Part 25: link


    I can’t believe it. I can’t believe it. Merlin. Merlin, of all people. I trusted him with my life. Several times.
    I called him friend.
    Everyone I trust betrays me in some way. Morgana. Agravaine. Guinevere. Okay, not Guinevere. And now Merlin. My idiot servant is a wizard. A bloody wizard. And from the looks of things, a pretty powerful one.
    How dare he presume to place a ‘protective charm’ over my child! My son… I don’t want magic touching him!
    And how do I know that it was indeed a protective charm? How do I know that he didn’t turn my son into something terrifying, hoặc worse…
    I can’t even think of the ‘worse.’
    He’s been lying to me all these years, what’s one thêm lie? “I’ve put a protective charm on him,” he said, but what did he really do?
    He did save Guinevere. And he destroyed the rabbit. And the box, just to be safe. But he was gone when those things arrived. How do I know that he didn’t send them? How do I know what his motives are? How do I know he’s not been in league with Morgana all this time?
    He did save Guinevere.
    Betrayal. Lies. Deceit. I can’t abide these things. As king I cannot allow them.
    I trusted him. I thought of him almost as a brother.
    He had to hide it. My father surely would have killed him without a thought. I am not my father. But could I have kept his secret from Father, if he’d told me?
    Would I have kept his secret?
    Magic is evil. This is the mantra with which I was raised.
    Is Merlin evil?
    Is he?
    No.
    How can I reconcile what I’ve been told all my life, what’s been drilled into me since I was old enough to comprehend, with what I just saw with my own eyes?
    He. Saved. Guinevere.
    I don’t know what to do.
    My tim, trái tim is breaking in a way I never expected.
    “Arthur?” Gwen’s sleepy voice comes drifting over to him, snapping him out of his thoughts.
    “I’m here,” he calls back.
    “Where are you?”
    “By the window. Looking out at the courtyard.”
    “Come back to bed, Love.”
    “I can’t sleep. I don’t want to disrupt yours.”
    “You already are bởi not being here with me. Come here and let me hold you.”
    He sighs, closes the window and shuffles back to bed, climbing in, into his wife’s embrace. She holds him, presses his head gently down on her chest, stroking his hair.
    “I was—” he starts.
    “I know what bạn were doing. Shh.”


    Arthur’s sword slashes fiercely, attacking the practice dummy again and again. The poor wooden man doesn’t stand a chance against the agitated king’s assault.
    Merlin rounds the corner with a jug of water for the knights. He sees Arthur venting his aggression on the dummy. He freezes.
    Splinters fly; the dummy shudders under the relentless attack. Arthur glances up and sees Merlin standing there, watching.
    How many times did I not see?
    Gwaine approaches Merlin, takes the jug from the servant’s hands, gives him a friendly pat on the shoulder, and continues on.
    Something stirs in Arthur’s memory.
    Gwaine and Merlin. The quest into the Perilous Lands.
    Arthur’s face is set in an angry scowl, sweat beading on his brow as he strikes again and again.
    Grettir the bridgekeeper. He called me ‘Courage.’ đã đưa ý kiến I would need ‘Strength and Magic’ to complete my quest.
    The sword flashes and shaves a parchment-thin curl of wood from the dummy’s shoulder with the precision of a master butcher carving a joint of meat.
    “I don’t condone the use of magic,” I had said. “You’d be wise not to dismiss it so freely,” he had replied.
    The sword thrusts again and again.
    Gwaine and Merlin. Strength and Magic. How could I have not seen it?
    He spins, sword parallel to the ground, slashing through the air at a blinding speed. It makes contact with the dummy and its head is sliced clean off, tumbling to the ground.
    Merlin jumps, his eyes wide.
    Arthur bends and kicks out sideways, knocking the dummy off its support. It falls to the ground.
    A hawk shrieks, and Arthur looks skyward to see it soar across the practice field, wings outstretched, before swooping down a distance away to claim its prey.
    The great dragon. He đã đưa ý kiến I dealt it ‘a mortal blow.’
    Arthur steps to the tiếp theo dummy, eyes glancing in Merlin’s direction for the briefest of moments.
    Did I? I woke up and it was gone.
    He charges with his sword, hiển thị no thêm mercy to this dummy than he had to its recently-destroyed companion.
    Gone. No body. Surely if I had killed it, there would have been a bloody great dead dragon body lying there in the field. Wouldn’t there?
    Slash, thrust, his sword as nhanh, swift as the hawk that had just flown past.
    What. Slash. Did. Slash. He. Slash. Do?
    Arthur lunges forward, thrusting his sword into the torso of the wooden dummy. The blade sinks in halfway.
    He stops, releasing the sword, blinking in surprise, breathing heavily, watching it sway slightly, impaled in the wood.
    Merlin watches, rooted to the spot, as Arthur reaches up to pull the sword from the dummy.
    It’s stuck.
    Like the sword in that stone.
    He looks up at Merlin and their eyes lock.


    Arthur, exhausted but still agitated, stalks through the lâu đài corridors, searching, eyes darting, one purpose in mind. Guinevere.
    She’s not in the council chambers. Great hall is empty, as is their chambers. He didn’t see her in the courtyard.
    Kitchen. He heads down to the royal kitchens and finds her talking to the cook. He pauses in the doorway, unnoticed as he peels his gloves from his hand, tucking them into his belt. My Guinevere, he thinks, feeling a little better just seeing her. Seeing her there, talking to the cook, her warm smile and twinkling brown eyes. Her beautiful curls cascading down her back with a few naughty ones hanging loose, brushing her collarbones. The tops of her pregnant-heavy breasts taunting him from above her bodice…
    “Excuse me,” he says, snatching her hand and pulling her out of the phòng bếp, nhà bếp behind him.
    “Arthur!” she exclaims, jogging to keep up with him as he leads her through the castle.
    They reach their chambers, and he pulls her inside, locking the doors behind them. She stops, catching her breath, waiting, watching.
    “Talk to me, Arthur,” Gwen says softly.
    He stares at her, and she can read the emotions in his eyes. Pain. Confusion. Lust. Anger. Passion. Hurt. She takes a tentative step forward, then hesitates and stops. Waiting for him.
    Gloves, sword and thắt lưng, vành đai are thrown on the table, and Arthur yanks his chainmail off over his head.
    He turns back toward her and pulls her into his arms, kissing her fiercely, holding tightly, his tongue demanding entrance.
    Oh. I see, Gwen thinks. Slowly, almost tentatively, her arms creep up around his neck. “I’m here, Love,” she mutters against his lips between kisses.
    He backs her up against the wall, kissing down her neck.
    “Oh…” she breathes, his lips making the sensitive skin on her neck tingle hotly.
    He kisses down to the tops of her breasts as his hands reach down to her skirts. He starts pulling them up and her hands drop to the ties on his trousers.
    “Yes…” he gasps, moaning in the back of his throat when her hands touch him. He hurries to bring her skirts up out of his way.
    Arthur presses his hand against her, fingers slipping in, and she gasps with pleasure, head falling back against the wall.
    He lifts her, his hands under her rear, supporting her as he slides into her. She hangs on to his neck and wraps her legs around his waist, kissing him hungrily.
    He plants his feet and thrusts into her, holding her hips, bracing her against the tường as he drives, mindless of anything else. One hand comes up to grip her breast through the material of her dress, squeezing gently, as she places biting kisses on his neck.
    “Oh… Arthur…” she gasps into his neck. “Yes…” His anguish is transformed to passion with each powerful thrust that sends hot shivers down her spine, negating the cold contact of the stone pressed against her shoulders.
    He clings tightly to her, his face tucked into her neck, inhaling her scent, tasting the sweet saltiness of her skin on his tongue. Losing himself in her, allowing her goodness, her warmth to invade his soul.
    Suddenly he stills, tightening his grasp on her as he groans her name in release. A moment later he breathes again, trailing kisses back to her lips as he resumes his movements, determinedly bringing her to satisfaction as well.
    She sighs as he continues, leaning her forehead against him, whispering gentle words into his ear. He rains kisses on her throat, her neck, and finally her lips as Gwen’s hands come around to cup his face gently. She looks down into his eyes, trying to hold his gaze, her fingers gentle on his face, thumbs stroking his cheeks, fingertips teasing at his hair.
    Her eyes stay locked on his until she falls over the precipice of her own desire. Her eyes flutter closed and her lips part in a whimpering moan, the sensations spreading out to her toes. He claims her parted lips with his again, swallowing her moan as her legs tighten around him.


The tiếp theo day

    Arthur knocks on the doors to Gaius’ quarters. He’s just seen Merlin heading to the lower town, undoubtedly gathering supplies for Gaius, so he decided to take the opportunity to talk to his trusted court physician.
    “Ah, I was wondering when you’d come calling,” Gaius says, opening the door. “Please,” he motions, bidding the king enter.
    Arthur sits heavily. He looks ragged.
    “You did not sleep, my lord?” Gaius asks, but he already knows the answer, and knows Merlin fared much the same.
    He looks up at the older man. “Did bạn know?” he asks simply.
    Gaius sits. He purses his lips, looks Arthur straight in the eye and says, “Yes.”
    “I see.”
    “I had to protect him. I made a promise to his mother.”
    Arthur nods very slightly.
    “He is my kin, Sire, did bạn know that? Hunith is my niece. As family, I was bound to protect him.”
    Arthur is quiet, staring at his boots. They need a polish, he thinks idly, distracting himself from thinking about what he should be thinking about. Finally he looks up. “I don’t know what to do, Gaius.”
    “What did Gwen say?”
    “Guinevere is grateful to Merlin for saving her and the baby, but she is conflicted as well. Her life has been harmed bởi magic as well.”
    “Of course, but bạn must know—”
    “I do know, Gaius. I know Merlin wouldn’t hurt a fly if he could help it. I understand his reasons for hiding it from me, and yours. I know all this in my head,” he says, pointing a finger at his temple. “It’s this,” he drops the finger to his heart, “that is having the difficulty right now. I’m trying not to feel betrayed bởi this.” He sighs heavily. “Guinevere thinks we should let him stay; still proceed with making him Royal Advisor. And seriously, seriously re-examine the laws against magic.”
    “If I may suggest, my lord, perhaps having someone with magic on our side might be beneficial in this re-examining,” Gaius says cautiously.
    “She đã đưa ý kiến the same thing.”
    “And what do you say, Arthur?”
    “I don’t know! I’m so… conflicted. My father would have had him on a pyre bởi now without a một giây thought. I… I can’t do that. Not to him.”
    “I know. Arthur,” Gaius starts, “I think it’s time bạn know something.”
    Arthur looks up.
    “Your father’s hatred of magic, his fear of magic, was born of his own folly.”
    “What?”
    “Do bạn remember when we first met Morgause? When she came and challenged bạn to single combat?”
    And I lost, he thinks sullenly. “Yes.”
    “The things she revealed to you, the things about your birth, your father, your mother. They were all true.”
    His eyes shoot up, meeting Gaius’ squinty gaze.
    “But colored bởi her own hatred,” he qualifies. “It is true that your father bargained with the witch Nimueh to get Ygraine to conceive a child. What was not fully explained to bạn was that Nimueh did explain the terms of the arrangement to Uther: Balance. A life for a life. Now, it is unclear as to whether Uther did not understand hoặc his desire for an heir clouded his judgment, but either way, neither Nimueh nor your father knew that your mother’s life was the one that was going to be taken. Do bạn understand that, Arthur?”
    Silent tears are rolling down Arthur’s cheeks as he listens to Gaius. He nods mutely.
    “His grief over your mother’s death was magnified tenfold because he knew deep down he was responsible for it, even if he couldn’t admit it to himself. He never blamed bạn for her death, Arthur, it is important that bạn know this. However, instead of taking responsibility for his mistake, he used his power to turn his error on those that practiced magic, twisting his own memory to the point where he believed his own lie. He condemned all those that used magic as evil, regardless of how they used it, their age, gender, hoặc status. It was a horrible, horrible time.”
    “I have suspected for quite some time now that not all magic is evil,” Arthur admits quietly.
    “Your suspicions are correct, Arthur. There are other people like Merlin out there. Hiding. Waiting. Hoping. Hoping that you will be the one to free them from their self-imposed prisons. Do not let your thoughts be colored bởi your father’s prejudices. bạn are a man; you are king.”
    “You have a good heart. Be true to it. Only then will bạn be the king bạn want to be,” Arthur whispers, almost to himself.
    “That’s good advice. Guinevere’s?”
    He nods. “A while back.”
    Gaius nods.
    Arthur looks up. “Does anyone else know? About Merlin?”
    Gaius thinks. “I do not believe so. No one yet living, anyway,” he chuckles.
    The young king’s face puzzles.
    “Often Merlin’s magic is the last discovery some people make. And those are usually people that are trying to kill you, my lord.”
    “So, all those times he’s claimed he’s saved my life…”
    Gaius nods.
    Arthur sighs. Damn. “Morgana doesn’t know?” he asks, suddenly realizing how catastrophic that would be.
    “No. This I can say for certain.”
    “Good,” Arthur says, standing. “Thank you, Gaius. You’ve been very helpful. I need to do some thêm thinking, but your counsel has not fallen on deaf ears.”
    “I’m glad.”
    He sighs. “Not a word to Merlin, please.”
    “Of course,” Gaius nods. Arthur needs to handle this himself.
    Arthur gives Gaius a friendly squeeze on the elbow then turns to leave.
    “Arthur?” Gaius calls after him.
    “Yes?”
    “You and Merlin, the two of bạn are brothers, bạn know. Two different sides of the same coin.”
    “I know,” Arthur says with a melancholy half smile.


    Arthur returns to his chambers, looking for Guinevere and her lap to rest his head on so he can do some thinking. He rounds a corner, and Peter intercepts him, finally returned, his arm in a sling.
    “My lord!” the young man calls, holding a piece of parchment towards the king.
    “Peter, what happened to you?” Arthur asks. He doesn’t look at the note; he knows Annis did not send the gift, so it can wait.
    “Something spooked my horse on the road to Caerleon, Sire,” he explains. “A… a shadow. Something. I’m not sure; I didn’t get a very good look at it,” the boy says. “I fell from my horse and broke my arm. Queen Annis had her physician fix me up and bade me rest before returning.”
    “Indeed,” Arthur says, now interested in the contents of the note.
    “She is a good queen, if I may say.”
    “You may. She is. Go see Gaius now, my boy,” Arthur says distractedly, ruffling the boy’s hair before turning back to head to his room, unrolling the parchment.

Arthur,
I regret to say that I have sent nothing, in keeping with my promise. My fears mirror yours, and I do hope there is nothing amiss.

I have dispatched parties of knights throughout my kingdom and recommend bạn do the same. Send word to Odin as well. We must leave no stone unturned.

Your messenger is bright and brave; I shall look phía trước, chuyển tiếp to his visits.

Your servant,
Annis

To Gwen: Thank bạn for the names. I have sent correspondence to both. Garret has just returned from Odin’s kingdom, where he met Princess Theode. Things bode well.

    Arthur reads the message twice. He knows Annis is being intentionally vague, and understands the reasoning. Agrees with it, in fact. The message to Gwen is a bit of a puzzle, though. Is my Guinevere playing matchmaker for the princes of Caerleon? What names did she give Annis?
    He looks around to see if Peter is still about. “Peter?” he calls. The boy jogs back around the corner.
    “My lord?”
    “I need another messenger to assign a kingdom. Any recommendations?”
    “I can do it!” the boy eagerly answers, walking back towards Arthur.
    “No, it needs to be someone else. Occasionally I’ll need to send both of bạn out at the same time.”
    “I see. My mate Clayton would be a good choice, then,” Peter recommends.
    “Send him up to my quarters. I will have a message for him to take to Odin.”
    “Odin?” Peter’s eyes grow large.
    “We are allies now, I will not be sending him into anything dangerous,” Arthur assures the boy.
    “Yes, Sire.”
    Arthur finally reaches his door, pushing it open. “Guinevere?” he calls. No answer. He sighs, and goes to the window overlooking the courtyard.
    Oh. There she is. Since she’s able to di chuyển around again, it seems all she wants to do is take walks. He watches her walk, smiling at the knights stationed around the courtyard. He nods approvingly as he notes that these knights are keeping a close watch on their queen, doing their instructed duty.
    Merlin, Arthur frowns slightly as the servant appears. Gwen walks to him, and Arthur can even hear her calling his name.
    She holds her arms out to Merlin and hugs him warmly. He looks surprised, Arthur notes. He watches as she talks to Merlin, taking his hand in hers. She’s thanking him again. Merlin nods and waves it off dismissively. He looks worried. I don’t blame him. I’m worried myself and I’m the one that has the power. Well, he has power, too, just a different kind…
    Merlin finally smiles, but sadly. She’s reassuring him. Why is she reassuring him? I haven’t even decided what I’m going to do yet! Of course, she often knows my mind before I do. Still. All right, I’m not going to kill him. I know that much.
    Gwen reaches to give Merlin another hug before she squeezes his elbow in support and lets Merlin continue on into the castle.

Part 27: link