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~*~
Merlin froze, the action catching the attention of everyone gathered in Arthur’s chambers.
“What is it?” Arthur asked.
Without answering, Merlin went to the window and looked out. He frowned at the sight of the mostly empty courtyard.
“There’s someone here,” Merlin said quietly. “Someone I haven’t…why would he come…”
Arthur joined him at the window.
“Who?” Arthur asked, nudging Merlin in the shoulder.
Hesitantly, Merlin looked at the others in the room. His eyes lingered on Gwen, the only other person who’d been there. The others did know the story, but none of them, not even Arthur and Gwen, knew the parts Merlin did.
“Mordred,” Merlin whispered, voice low enough only Arthur heard the name.
Arthur physically startled in surprise. Leon was on his feet immediately, instantly on guard against a threat.
“Trouble?” Leon asked, as if he was fully back to normal and not still dealing with the lingering effects of his injuries.
After a number of months and magical intervention, he was fully healed physically but his fitness was another matter. He was improving daily but he was still not at his best.
Arthur’s lips quirked into a smile. “I hope not. I don’t think I’ve given Mordred a reason to cause trouble?”
Merlin slumped even as Gwen drew in a surprised breath.
“I wish I could say for certain,” Merlin admitted.
Leon raised a brow. “How do you know he’s here?”
Merlin turned to face Leon.
“I can sense him,” Merlin explained. “And he me. Most people with magic seem to be able to sense me…sense Emrys, anyway,” He shook his head. “And most can communicate with me. He didn’t actively try to speak to me, but he also isn’t trying to hide that he’s here.”
Gwaine stood slowly from the table. “Maybe he’s here for an audience? Arthur will be meeting with any petitioners who come to him today.”
It was why they were all gathered in Arthur's chambers, after all. It was their new custom on petition days, to meet and plan for the upcoming session.
Biting his lip, Merlin considered that for a long moment.
“It’s possible,” Merlin allowed.
Percival and Elyan shared a look before rising from the table.
“We’ll alert the guards to be…careful,” Elyan said as the pair moved to leave. “Just tell them to keep an extra close eye for trouble.”
Gwen frowned. “But we helped him.”
All eyes turned to her. Percival and Elyan paused at the door to listen to what she had to say.
Straightening where she still sat at the table, Gwen reminded them all of what had happened. “We helped Mordred escape Uther. Mordred was a child.” She paused, closed her eyes for a moment before taking a breath. “Morgana helped him.”
Arthur nodded sadly and slumped against the window frame.
“And convinced me to do the same,” Arthur admitted. “Because magic or not, Mordred was a child. And I could not…I could not allow him to be captured and executed.” Shaking his head, he repeated, “He was a child.”
Leon caught Arthur’s eye and held it for a long moment. Pain and regret flickered through both of them. How many children had been killed because of the ban? How many had they not protected? Arthur would never forget the first patrol he'd commanded, the Druid camp, the slaughter he’d failed to stop.
“And that was the only time you saw him?” Leon prodded gently.
Arthur nodded. “It was.”
Bowing his head, Merlin replied, “No, it wasn’t.”
Arthur turned to Merlin.
“When?” Arthur demanded.
Merlin ran a hand over his face.
“Twice more,” Merlin admitted.
He told the story of the druid camp, of Morgana running away for help, and Uther thinking she’d been kidnapped.
“I remember,” Arthur said quietly. “Father was sure she’d been kidnapped because there had just been that fire in her chambers.”
Leon nodded. “I remember that too.” Grimacing, he added, “And what followed.”
Another raid on a druid camp. Destruction and death when the druids done nothing wrong.
Merlin swallowed. “Then I saw him one more time, a few months later. You remember when the Crystal of Neahtid disappeared? He was involved in that. And by the end, well. He said he’d never forgive me.”
Arthur stared at Merlin.
“There’s something important you’re not telling us,” Arthur insisted. “What made him say that? He was just a child.”
Merlin returned to the table and collapsed into a chair. The others followed his lead.
“We’ve all discussed the prophecies of the Once and Future King. Of Arthur’s role in them. Of mine,” Merlin started haltingly. “But there’s more. Morgana has a role. Mordred true. From the first time I met Mordred, Kilgharrah tried to get me to kill him. The dragon has not been any kinder towards Morgana, always referring to her as The Witch.” Merlin took a breath to steady himself. “Kilgharrah advocated for their deaths from the start because of the prophecy and what it says they will do. And given what happened with Alvarr…I let Kilgharrah sway me for just a moment. In the chaos at the camp that second time, I tried to kill Mordred. I hated myself for even considering it but everything Kilgharrah had been telling me was proving true. I tried. I failed because Mordred realized what I’d tried to do. He said he’d never forgive me for it. And I don’t really blame him.”
A heavy silence fell over the group as they took all of that in.
Leon ran a weary hand over his face.
“Which of them can kill Arthur and prevent the Golden Age of Albion?” Leon asked.
That wasn’t the question Merlin had expected given what he’d just revealed, but Leon was a practical man. Dwelling on something years past would get them nowhere, but they needed to understand if there was a threat now.
With a wet laugh, Merlin replied, “Of course you figured it out.”
Returning the laugh with a wry smile, Leon replied, “Nothing else would be so dire as to make you attempt such a thing, Merlin. Let me guess. Mordred can do so with Morgana’s support?”
Merlin nodded.
Gwaine shared a look with Percival and Elyan.
“Seems to me then that the best thing we can do is keep Mordred away from Morgana,” Gwaine pointed out. “Because I don’t think any of us are alright with killing him for something some overgrown lizard says he could do.”
Merlin sputtered.
“Kilgharrah is not…Gwaine!” Merlin squawked.
Gwaine grinned. “Am I truly wrong, Merlin?”
Leon and Arthur shared a look, rolling their eyes at the antics.
“We most certainly are not killing anyone because of a prophecy!” Gwen said firmly in a quiet but steady voice demanding attention. “To hold someone accountable for their actions, for their choices, is one thing. To blame them for what they might do? That’s wrong. And that’s not who we want to be, what we want Camelot to be.”
Arthur looked at her with great fondness.
“Guinevere is right. That is not the Camelot we wish to build,” Arthur agreed. “Let Mordred come to me, if that’s what he intends. I refuse to believe that path is set in stone.”
Leon turned to Merlin once more.
“In the prophecy, did it say anything about magic being illegal in Camelot? Or legal?” Leon asked.
Merlin stared at him for a heartbeat. “Kilgharrah always emphasized the uniting Albion and bringing peace bits and how Morgana and Mordred were a threat to that.”
Gwaine nodded, catching what Leon was asking.
“Is it possible that Arthur legalizing magic could change things?” Gwaine asked.
Understanding dawned on Merlin’s face.
“I don’t know,” Merlin admitted. “Maybe? With magic being legal, with Mordred not having to hide…maybe that will mean Morgana has nothing to entice him with?”
Arthur considered that for a long moment.
“Even more reason to let him come if he’s coming peacefully. I don’t want him to come here in good faith only to be pushed into my enemy’s arms because I distrusted him unfairly,” Arthur stated firmly. “You’ll be there, Merlin. If he tries to hurt me, you can stop him. But if he doesn’t, you have to let me handle it as I see fit.”
With great difficulty, Merlin made himself nod. “Alright. Just be careful, you prat.”
~*~
Percival and Elyan made quick work of doubling the guards on duty without making it obvious they’d done so. Leon watched in quiet approval as guards and knights carefully moved around the edges of the crowd of petitioners. Either Elyan or Percival always had the throne in their sightline even as they circulated the room. Bedivere and Kay stood to either side of the door. It would be the work of an instant to signal the four of them if something went wrong. Already seated on his throne, Leon watched as Arthur also tracked the movement of his knights. Good, he needed to know who to expect where, just in case.
Leon’s eyes flickered to Merlin on the other side of Arthur’s throne. Anyone who looked could see the tension in Merlin’s body. Leon desperately hoped there was no need for it. Beside Merlin, Gwen waited patiently. She often aided Arthur on petition days despite it not technically being part of her duties as chatelaine. Her presence soothed many who found approaching the king intimidating.
Gwaine hovered near Leon, his habit in the aftermath of Leon’s injury. Leon surprisingly didn’t mind it so much. He’d grown rather fond of Gwaine’s near constant presence at his side.
“Why does this feel like we’re waiting for a sword to swing at us,” Gwaine muttered.
Wincing, Leon replied, “I think I’d prefer it if we were awaiting a sword.”
Arthur raised a hand, catching everyone’s attention and officially bringing the petition session to order.
Leon only hoped that Merlin’s fears were misplaced. Surely Mordred wouldn’t approach openly if he meant Arthur harm?
~*~
Normally, Arthur didn’t mind petition days. One of the few things he still admired about his father was that he was always willing to hear petitions from the people. He didn’t always do anything. But he listened. And when he could do something to assuage a concern, even if it meant sending Arthur on a seemingly trivial errand like checking on the ruins of Idirsholas to reassure concerned farmers, he did it. Arthur wanted to be better, to help more, and he could only do that by listening to his people.
Still, today the session seemed endless. He knew he wasn’t the only one growing impatient. The look the scribe taking notes for the day kept sending Arthur also told him it was noticeable. Arthur resolved to do better. The people coming to him deserved his full attention.
“It makes sense he’d wait until the end,” Merlin muttered as he leaned down to offer Arthur something to drink.
Accepting gratefully, Arthur murmured a quiet reply hidden by his goblet. “That’s what I’m expecting.”
Finally, the waiting crowd thinned, and the last petitioners came forward. Merlin scanned the crowd.
“He’s here,” Merlin said quietly. “He’s…I think he’s nervous.”
While Arthur couldn’t blame Mordred, it wasn’t exactly encouraging. He wanted the boy to feel welcome. To feel safe. Magic was legal now. If Mordred meant no harm, he had no need to fear.
Arthur frowned. “Tell him it’s alright.”
Merlin started to say something but stopped as a figure stepped out of the crowd.
“I know I’m late, sire, but if you would grant me a moment of your time,” the figure spoke.
It was the voice of a boy just on the edge of becoming young man.
Arthur didn’t need Merlin to say a word to confirm this was Mordred. His tense posture said it all.
“Come forward,” Arthur beckoned.
Mordred approached the throne.
Then he shocked them all by taking a knee and bowing before Arthur.
“Thank you, King Arthur, for legalizing magic,” Mordred said. “When I was a child, and you yet a prince, you saved my life at great risk to yourself. I hoped then that it meant that we only had to wait until you became king and my people would be safe. And that day has come.”
Arthur rose to his feet, feeling every eye in the throne room on him.
“Hello, Mordred,” Arthur greeted warmly. “I’m glad you came.”
Mordred looked up in surprise.
“Get up,” Arthur said, keeping his tone gentle so Mordred wouldn’t think it a dismissal. “I want to greet you properly.”
Looking confused, Mordred let Arthur pull him to his feet.
“Sire,” Mordred said, tone heavy with confusion.
Arthur smiled as he clasped Mordred on the shoulder.
“You were a child. I did what was right,” Arthur asserted. “I have never regretted it. I’m pleased to see you, Mordred. I’ve often wondered what became of you.”
Mordred ducked his head.
“I came as soon as I heard you’d legalized magic. I was…away from here,” Mordred admitted. “But I knew I had to come. I’ve heard stories about the Camelot you’re building, sire, and I want to be a part of it. I want to serve you. I want to be a knight, if you will have me.”
Arthur ignored Merlin’s fidgeting behind him and focused entirely on Mordred. Maybe this was how they changed fate. Maybe Arthur just had to take a leap of faith, just like he had when he chose to legalize magic.
“I’m honored,” Arthur replied. “And very, very glad to have you.”
Mordred looked up with a smile. “Thank you.”
Arthur let his hand fall away from Mordred’s shoulder, hoping he’d put the boy at ease. While the boy…well. Was he still a boy? Arthur wasn’t actually sure. Probably best to ask. They also needed to know if he had any actual training.
“Mordred, how old are you now?” Arthur asked gently. “It’s been some time, but you were rather young when we met.”
~*~
Merlin bit his lip to keep his silence. He didn’t like this, but Arthur was right. Maybe, with magic now legal, this would be ok. He tried not to let his fears show. He didn’t want to be the reason Mordred turned against Arthur. Not if there was a chance of escaping that horrible fate for all of them. Especially not when Mordred looked at Arthur with eyes full of such hope and respect.
Trying his best to appear confident, Mordred replied, “Seventeen. I’ll be eighteen in a few months, sire.”
Merlin resolutely did not think about how young that meant Mordred had been when he’d…no. Not thinking about it.
“Do you have any training suitable for knighthood?” Arthur asked carefully.
Merlin didn’t think Arthur was going to refuse Mordred, but if the teenager didn’t actually have training then someone was going to have to be responsible for him. Biting back a smile of fond exasperation, Merlin realized exactly what was going to happen.
Arthur really was such a predictable prat sometimes.
~*~
“No, sire,” Mordred admitted reluctantly. “I can fight to protect myself but compared to what your knights must know…”
Arthur smiled softly and rested a hand on Mordred’s shoulder once more. “I am very pleased to have you in my service, but young as you are and untrained, I cannot yet make you a knight.” Mordred slumped a little where he stood, but Arthur wasn’t finished. Hoping to bolster the teen, he continued, “I can however, make you a squire. You will serve and train with my inner circle. Something tells me you will prove yourself ready for knighthood swiftly and you will learn from the best Camelot has to offer.”
If Mordred had claimed skills, Arthur would have assessed him as he did all potential knights. By admitting what he lacked, Mordred gave Arthur the opportunity to offering training and teaching without either of them being saddled with ill feelings caused by an assessment that potentially made Mordred look bad.
Mordred straightened, beaming at the news.
“I won’t let you down, sire,” Mordred assured.
Arthur clapped him on the shoulder and stepped back just a little.
“I know you won’t,” Arthur assured. “And more, in the future you can set an example of what it means to be a magic user and a knight in service to Camelot.”
Mordred stared at him in wonder. Arthur let himself hope.
Leon stepped up to Arthur’s side.
“Welcome, Mordred,” Leon greeted. “As soon as Arthur is finished here, we’ll get you settled in.”
Mordred smiled tentatively at Leon. His smile grew at Gwen’s approach.
“Lovely to see you, Mordred,” Gwen offered kindly. “All grown up too.”
Flushing, Mordred replied, “Gwen. It’s good to see you too.”
Arthur watched as Leon and Gwen ushered Mordred off to the side, speaking to him in hushed tones. He’d leave his chatelaine and his First Knight to sort out what all Mordred needed. They were better with such practicalities.
~*~
A few hours later, Merlin knocked at Mordred’s door. Normally, a squire wouldn’t have his own room, but given the situation, he’d been given a small room in the knight’s quarters near Percival, Elyan, and Gwaine.
Mordred opened the door, reluctance plastered all across his face.
“Emrys,” Mordred greeted.
Merlin sighed. “My name is Merlin.”
Stepping back into his quarter, Mordred shrugged.
“Come in, Merlin. I suppose it's best to have this over with sooner rather than later,” Mordred said.
Merlin very pointedly did not let himself acknowledge how sad Mordred sounded at that.
“I will tolerate your presence here but the first time you so much as look at Arthur in a way I don’t like, you will answer to me for it. Threaten him, and I will kill you. Do you understand?” Merlin asked.
Mordred startled.
“Why would I threaten King Arthur? He legalized magic. He’s letting our people live freely! No. He’s welcoming magic back to Camelot, not just allowing it. Why would I do anything to threaten or hurt him?” Mordred asked. “I’m honored that he’s allowing me to serve him.”
Merlin swallowed hard and pushed Kilgharrah’s words away. He forced himself to focus on Arthur’s own words from hours earlier.
I don’t want him to come here in good faith only to be pushed into my enemy’s arms because I distrusted him unfairly.
“As long as it stays that way, Mordred, then we have nothing to worry about,” Merlin said.
Mordred hesitated. “Do you blame me for Morgana? Is that why you think I’m a threat to King Arthur?”
That was a whole wagonload of issues that Merlin was absolutely not prepared to touch. Not yet. But there was a connected truth he could give.
“I fear you following her path,” Merlin offered instead. “She loved Arthur once too, and now she’s his worst enemy. She embraced all the worst parts of magic. I do not want the same for you. For any of our sakes.”
Sad understanding flickered across Mordred’s face.
“It won’t happen, Merlin. I swear it,” Mordred vowed earnestly.
Merlin could only hope that held true.
~*~