Post by Arctura on Jul 15, 2014 20:03:44 GMT
Unlike the last fic, this AU is so extremely AU, it can't even really happen in the show. This is more like a worst case scenario in Merlin, but I like dark, angsty stuff. Don't worry though; the ending is hopeful and a bit open-ended. After all, good must prevail (at least, according to Julian Jones).
All the Laughter From Before
One story goes like this:
"There was an enemy sorcerer, whose son Uther had killed, and who was desperate to make Uther feel the same pain. And so the sorcerer wove a spell around Prince Arthur, and it killed him slowly over the course of a season. From May to August, Arthur had faded. And then Arthur's manservant, Merlin, realized that it was no ordinary illness, and he, being a great sorcerer himself, but good and kind, defended the prince, and saved his life.
But alas, King Uther could not abide magic of any kind, and Prince Arthur's protests and the physician's pleas and Merlin's explanations fell on deaf ears. Merlin was killed that very night- burned alive for saving the prince, and the prince was locked in the dungeons, where he could not help his friend."
Like all stories there are two sides, and this is the other:
"There was once boy called Merlin, who came to the court to ensnare the prince in his grasp, for he was an evil wizard, determined to destroy all of Albion. He baited his time, and made the prince believe he was his friend, someone to be trusted until two Augusts after his arrival, the good King Uther Pendragon recognized that his son's illness was related to the boy who never left his son's side for a moment. When the evil wizard Merlin was burned, Prince Arthur emerged from confinement healthy and strong again."
What really happened is a little less glamorous than either account.
***
Arthur has been sick for a few months. Gaius has tried every potion and tincture and salve he knows of, and though it seems to be a very minor ailment, Arthur is slowly losing his strength, and is almost as pale as Morgana.
Merlin teases the prince that he'll have to start wearing flowing gowns, and that if he loses any more weight the breeches that once fit so snugly will flow wide like skirts in any case.
Arthur usually gives Merlin a doleful look, and then hits him upside the head. Gaius always quickly hides his smiles, but they are funny together.
It turns out that it is magical, but not intentional- in May Arthur had gone with Merlin to Ealdor, to visit Hunith. Apparently, being Arthur and Merlin, they had not stayed upon the beaten path.
"I believe you passed through a fairy circle," Gaius explains. "It's fairly simple to cure- it's draining you of your strength, using your energy for the forest, but I think- "
"Arthur is strengthening trees?" Merlin demands, gleeful, shooting a look at Arthur.
"It's curable?" Arthur demands, reaching out and swatting at Merlin, who dances out of range. "Well?" he demands of Merlin, who rolls his eyes. "I can make it a royal command, Merlin," Arthur threatens with a smirk.
"Royal prat," Merlin snorts, and then his eyes go golden.
Arthur had informed Merlin that he was fully aware of his powers a full seven months ago, shouting at him for being uncommonly foolish (even for Merlin). In the months since, Merlin has become less skittish about using magic, and Gaius has found an unexpected ally in the prince. Arthur oscillated between wanting Merlin to train his powers and determinedly keeping the magic a secret.
"I thought I'd been- hiding it," Merlin had protested weakly, book lying on the floor by his bed and his bedsheets twisting themselves in agitated worry like a grandmother wringing her hands.
"Merlin, you are utter rubbish at everything," Arthur had informed him, batting away an anxious kerchief. "How you are still alive I have no idea."
Merlin had thrown himself at Arthur and Gaius had hastily shut his door and then gone to find something to do. In the other end of the castle.
Merlin reaches out now and wipes at the air in front of Arthur's face. The air sparks green around the gold of Merlin's hand, and they are all so absorbed watching it that nobody notices Uther until he is roaring,
"What is this treachery?"
Arthur startles and moves to turn, to try to defend, but Merlin grabs him and holds him in place, muttering, "I'm almost- "
"Merlin, you idiot," Arthur grinds out, the line of his back angry and his chin raised to full Pendragon stature, but he stays still. Merlin exhales slowly, and Gaius realizes Merlin's fear is that he will have somehow only given the fairy magic a foothold if he doesn't erase it all. Fairy magic is vindictive when irritated (they have learned that the hard way), and Merlin will not take that chance. Finally, ageless moments later, Arthur shimmers green and Merlin sparkles gold and then he steps back and his lips quirk inappropriately and he says,
"Well, if I'm going to die, I might as well save you one last time."
It all goes rather chaotic from there.
Uther grabs Arthur by the back of his shirt and throws him back at the knights behind him, who hold fast to their prince but do not look at Arthur, faces a careful blank as he staggers for his footing and strains against them.
"You have bewitched my son," Uther snarls, and Gaius thinks that that's the most laughable conclusion anyone has ever reached (or would be, if it didn't mean death).
"I saved him," Merlin snaps back, face flushing angrily.
"Merlin, shut up!" Arthur shouts.
"Take my son to the dungeons, lock him up- he is not in his right mind," Uther instructs.
It takes four knights to wrestle Arthur out of the room, even in his weakened state.
"Sire- " Gaius begins, chest tight with fear because he knows what comes now: he has had twenty two years of experience with this.
He knows that Uther does not believe Arthur to be bewitched: they have both seen enough people entranced to recognize the signs, and Arthur is Uther's son, and it has been two years since Merlin entered their lives. But Arthur willingly, deliberately, and knowingly shielded and protected Merlin, a sorcerer: such a crime is punishable by death. It is tantamount to treason.
But Arthur is the Crown Prince, and he is also Uther's son- but he is also Igraine's son, which Gaius thinks today may be more important. Uther cannot kill his last link to his lost wife.
"You have nothing to say to me," Uther warns, and oh, Gaius has quite a bit he will say, but suddenly he is without words. He stares at Merlin, who smiles a little apologetically.
Merlin, who never learned how to disappear because he couldn't see the point. This is the bloody point! To escape!
Uther grabs Merlin by the back of his neck and shoves his dagger under Merlin's throat, and Gaius cannot understand why the boy does not fight back, but Merlin seems- paralyzed.
Terrified, and… of course. He is protecting Gaius by not allowing Gaius to speak, but it would have been Arthur here, defending Merlin, and Arthur is gone. And this is the worst- this is what he and Arthur and even Hunith have been nagging Merlin about: do not let Uther catch you.
Uther drags him down the stairs, bellowing for a pyre and a fire and stake, and Morgana flies out of a hallway, Guinevere close on her heels, both of them horrified.
"Uther- you cannot!"
"Restrain her!" Uther barks, and knights advance on Morgana, who stops shouting and starts shrieking as only she can, vicious and unyeilding even as she is dragged to her chambers, and Gaius takes a moment to be terrified of her. If she should someday become what she promises to be, Morgana will be awesome in her power.
Guinevere follows, taking his hand and they stand at the top of the steps as Uther bellows about evils of sorcery, and false allies. Gaius wonders if he knows that he seems mad, but then Merlin is lashed to the stake and doused in cooking oils, and he stares at Uther hard. Gaius tries to see if his eyes are golden- prays for his eyes to be golden. Gaius tightens his hand around Guinevere's and she sobs drily. Neither look away as the fire surges up from the kindling towards Merlin, who starts coughing and hacking and then screaming as he vanishes from sight.
"Merlin, Merlin, oh my God, Merlin," Guinevere chants in horror, but Gaius, though he can speak now (and does not want to consider why), stays silent.
He wishes the damn fool would do something, but of course not- Merlin will die to protect Arthur- if he vanishes, Uther might be angry enough to do something rash. Merlin will not risk it.
When the fire dies away there is a collapsed skeleton, and Gaius closes his eyes and tries not to vomit.
…
A week after the manservant Merlin is burnt, Arthur is let out of the dungeons.
He is pronounced "cured" by the physician, but he is still slight from his illness.
This morning is the first time they've seen him in nearly a month.
Ywain has seen the expression on Arthur's face before- he has trained with Arthur for near a decade. It never bodes well when Arthur enters a fight looking like a harbinger of death.
The knights all do their best at morning practice, fearing retribution, fearing wrath. For the first time, fearing the prince. Ywain wonders if they expect Uther to surface in Arthur.
Arthur is deliberative, graceful, and chivalrous. He is weaker than they are used to, but pushing himself as hard as he would push them. He does not win every fight, but he wins enough to gain the respect of the knight-hopefuls.
Ywain looks around at his brethren; those who have known Arthur for years, and sees what he feels reflected on their faces: He is still their leader, their champion.
"He's different, though," Idris comments quietly as he and Ywain come back from practice a month later. Arthur is nearly back in peak condition, and merrily thrashing them all. "I should not want to be the King."
"He was merely a manservant," Caindrith protests in a hushed tone, as though perhaps Arthur will hear them. Last week Sir Kenton dismissed Merlin and Arthur's hand had clenched around his wine goblet and Lady Morgana had thrown her knife at him.
It had embedded in his shoulder, and the feast had ended in chaos, but everyone now fears that Lady Morgana's temper, and knows not to dismiss Merlin, not even in death.
"He saved Arthur's life," Idris replies, as though that is all that matters.
There are two stories. The one that Uther clearly is trying to spread, and the other that Lady Morgana's maid, Gwen, is quietly spreading. Gwen's story is far more successful at capturing the people of Camelot's imaginations.
Little things change. Arthur says "my people" when speaking of state affairs. It is still "our land", though. Ywain never noticed that- that Arthur includes the landed and unlanded knights in ownership of Albion. That Arthur seems to think the king is merely a stewardship- that the land belongs to those who live upon it.
Uther seems to fade as Arthur grows stronger, and Ywain wonders if he never saw this coming: if Uther never thought one day Arthur would cease to be merely a prince and start being a king in waiting.
He became a knight to protect the realm. He never expected to serve a king whom he would gladly die for: now he looks forward to the day that he does.
…
"For the pain," Gaius says quietly, handing Uther the potion for his shoulder.
"They're all just waiting for me to die," Uther remarks, taking it and looking out the window.
"Yes," Gaius agrees.
"I never meant- "
"He has become what you made him," Gaius interrupts, watching the prince direct a royal guard, Gawain of Orkney at his side. He takes in the plaza, watches Guinevere place a bouquet of wildflowers down in the spot where Merlin's pyre was constructed, Morgana's hand curve over her shoulder and the two women turn to look at Arthur, who has stopped and is staring hard at the flowers, Gawain's hand firm on his shoulder. "He will be a good king, Sire. His people love him."
"His people," Uther repeats, and then nods almost to himself. "It is a terrible thing, to have one's child usurp one."
"It is a worse thing to see one's child burn," Gaius retorts, and leaves without asking for dismissal.
...
"He's going to die," she says bluntly. "He's going to die, his heart will fail him, and you'll be king. There was snow outside, and he didn't look much older than he is now."
Arthur's mouth works and Gwen lays a hand on his arm comfortingly.
"Arthur," Morgana prompts.
"All right," he acknowledges, before turning on his heel and leaving.
"What was that?" Morgana demands of Gwen.
"I haven't any idea. Maybe he needs time. Uther is his father, after all."
Morgana nods faintly. He needs to get ready. He doesn't have Merlin, and she doesn't think she's strong enough to deal with everything she dreams of.
...
This is what happened: the Old Religion demanded the life of Uther Pendragon in order to even the cosmic balance. And the Old Magic waited for a long time, until its vessel had matured.
And then the vessel had refused to take the life of Uther Pendragon, despite prompting, and yet the debt of life had to be satisfied.
And Old Magic and Uther Pendragon could not coexist, not in any functional manner, and so Merlin Emrys had died.
And yet the Old Magic had scooped him up, plucked him from the fire and placed the bones of another in the fire.
He had lain in Avalon, asleep and waiting for the moment he could return: the moment Uther Pendragon passed from this world to the next.
Uther Pendragon's last breath woke Merlin Emrys from his slumber, and as the dead man's skin cooled, the warlock found himself in Camelot. Specifically, in front of the dragon, who was getting quite weary of destiny, to be perfectly honest.
"Look, this makes no sense," the young warlock insists.
"You should listen to me," the dragon retorts. "And find clothes. The young Pendragon- ah, no, the only Pendragon, now- is going to be very dubious about this, and obstinate."
"Shock me," the warlock snorts. The newly-awakened are always very obnoxious.
"Go on, fulfill your destiny," the dragon sighs.
All the Laughter From Before
One story goes like this:
"There was an enemy sorcerer, whose son Uther had killed, and who was desperate to make Uther feel the same pain. And so the sorcerer wove a spell around Prince Arthur, and it killed him slowly over the course of a season. From May to August, Arthur had faded. And then Arthur's manservant, Merlin, realized that it was no ordinary illness, and he, being a great sorcerer himself, but good and kind, defended the prince, and saved his life.
But alas, King Uther could not abide magic of any kind, and Prince Arthur's protests and the physician's pleas and Merlin's explanations fell on deaf ears. Merlin was killed that very night- burned alive for saving the prince, and the prince was locked in the dungeons, where he could not help his friend."
Like all stories there are two sides, and this is the other:
"There was once boy called Merlin, who came to the court to ensnare the prince in his grasp, for he was an evil wizard, determined to destroy all of Albion. He baited his time, and made the prince believe he was his friend, someone to be trusted until two Augusts after his arrival, the good King Uther Pendragon recognized that his son's illness was related to the boy who never left his son's side for a moment. When the evil wizard Merlin was burned, Prince Arthur emerged from confinement healthy and strong again."
What really happened is a little less glamorous than either account.
***
Arthur has been sick for a few months. Gaius has tried every potion and tincture and salve he knows of, and though it seems to be a very minor ailment, Arthur is slowly losing his strength, and is almost as pale as Morgana.
Merlin teases the prince that he'll have to start wearing flowing gowns, and that if he loses any more weight the breeches that once fit so snugly will flow wide like skirts in any case.
Arthur usually gives Merlin a doleful look, and then hits him upside the head. Gaius always quickly hides his smiles, but they are funny together.
It turns out that it is magical, but not intentional- in May Arthur had gone with Merlin to Ealdor, to visit Hunith. Apparently, being Arthur and Merlin, they had not stayed upon the beaten path.
"I believe you passed through a fairy circle," Gaius explains. "It's fairly simple to cure- it's draining you of your strength, using your energy for the forest, but I think- "
"Arthur is strengthening trees?" Merlin demands, gleeful, shooting a look at Arthur.
"It's curable?" Arthur demands, reaching out and swatting at Merlin, who dances out of range. "Well?" he demands of Merlin, who rolls his eyes. "I can make it a royal command, Merlin," Arthur threatens with a smirk.
"Royal prat," Merlin snorts, and then his eyes go golden.
Arthur had informed Merlin that he was fully aware of his powers a full seven months ago, shouting at him for being uncommonly foolish (even for Merlin). In the months since, Merlin has become less skittish about using magic, and Gaius has found an unexpected ally in the prince. Arthur oscillated between wanting Merlin to train his powers and determinedly keeping the magic a secret.
"I thought I'd been- hiding it," Merlin had protested weakly, book lying on the floor by his bed and his bedsheets twisting themselves in agitated worry like a grandmother wringing her hands.
"Merlin, you are utter rubbish at everything," Arthur had informed him, batting away an anxious kerchief. "How you are still alive I have no idea."
Merlin had thrown himself at Arthur and Gaius had hastily shut his door and then gone to find something to do. In the other end of the castle.
Merlin reaches out now and wipes at the air in front of Arthur's face. The air sparks green around the gold of Merlin's hand, and they are all so absorbed watching it that nobody notices Uther until he is roaring,
"What is this treachery?"
Arthur startles and moves to turn, to try to defend, but Merlin grabs him and holds him in place, muttering, "I'm almost- "
"Merlin, you idiot," Arthur grinds out, the line of his back angry and his chin raised to full Pendragon stature, but he stays still. Merlin exhales slowly, and Gaius realizes Merlin's fear is that he will have somehow only given the fairy magic a foothold if he doesn't erase it all. Fairy magic is vindictive when irritated (they have learned that the hard way), and Merlin will not take that chance. Finally, ageless moments later, Arthur shimmers green and Merlin sparkles gold and then he steps back and his lips quirk inappropriately and he says,
"Well, if I'm going to die, I might as well save you one last time."
It all goes rather chaotic from there.
Uther grabs Arthur by the back of his shirt and throws him back at the knights behind him, who hold fast to their prince but do not look at Arthur, faces a careful blank as he staggers for his footing and strains against them.
"You have bewitched my son," Uther snarls, and Gaius thinks that that's the most laughable conclusion anyone has ever reached (or would be, if it didn't mean death).
"I saved him," Merlin snaps back, face flushing angrily.
"Merlin, shut up!" Arthur shouts.
"Take my son to the dungeons, lock him up- he is not in his right mind," Uther instructs.
It takes four knights to wrestle Arthur out of the room, even in his weakened state.
"Sire- " Gaius begins, chest tight with fear because he knows what comes now: he has had twenty two years of experience with this.
He knows that Uther does not believe Arthur to be bewitched: they have both seen enough people entranced to recognize the signs, and Arthur is Uther's son, and it has been two years since Merlin entered their lives. But Arthur willingly, deliberately, and knowingly shielded and protected Merlin, a sorcerer: such a crime is punishable by death. It is tantamount to treason.
But Arthur is the Crown Prince, and he is also Uther's son- but he is also Igraine's son, which Gaius thinks today may be more important. Uther cannot kill his last link to his lost wife.
"You have nothing to say to me," Uther warns, and oh, Gaius has quite a bit he will say, but suddenly he is without words. He stares at Merlin, who smiles a little apologetically.
Merlin, who never learned how to disappear because he couldn't see the point. This is the bloody point! To escape!
Uther grabs Merlin by the back of his neck and shoves his dagger under Merlin's throat, and Gaius cannot understand why the boy does not fight back, but Merlin seems- paralyzed.
Terrified, and… of course. He is protecting Gaius by not allowing Gaius to speak, but it would have been Arthur here, defending Merlin, and Arthur is gone. And this is the worst- this is what he and Arthur and even Hunith have been nagging Merlin about: do not let Uther catch you.
Uther drags him down the stairs, bellowing for a pyre and a fire and stake, and Morgana flies out of a hallway, Guinevere close on her heels, both of them horrified.
"Uther- you cannot!"
"Restrain her!" Uther barks, and knights advance on Morgana, who stops shouting and starts shrieking as only she can, vicious and unyeilding even as she is dragged to her chambers, and Gaius takes a moment to be terrified of her. If she should someday become what she promises to be, Morgana will be awesome in her power.
Guinevere follows, taking his hand and they stand at the top of the steps as Uther bellows about evils of sorcery, and false allies. Gaius wonders if he knows that he seems mad, but then Merlin is lashed to the stake and doused in cooking oils, and he stares at Uther hard. Gaius tries to see if his eyes are golden- prays for his eyes to be golden. Gaius tightens his hand around Guinevere's and she sobs drily. Neither look away as the fire surges up from the kindling towards Merlin, who starts coughing and hacking and then screaming as he vanishes from sight.
"Merlin, Merlin, oh my God, Merlin," Guinevere chants in horror, but Gaius, though he can speak now (and does not want to consider why), stays silent.
He wishes the damn fool would do something, but of course not- Merlin will die to protect Arthur- if he vanishes, Uther might be angry enough to do something rash. Merlin will not risk it.
When the fire dies away there is a collapsed skeleton, and Gaius closes his eyes and tries not to vomit.
…
A week after the manservant Merlin is burnt, Arthur is let out of the dungeons.
He is pronounced "cured" by the physician, but he is still slight from his illness.
This morning is the first time they've seen him in nearly a month.
Ywain has seen the expression on Arthur's face before- he has trained with Arthur for near a decade. It never bodes well when Arthur enters a fight looking like a harbinger of death.
The knights all do their best at morning practice, fearing retribution, fearing wrath. For the first time, fearing the prince. Ywain wonders if they expect Uther to surface in Arthur.
Arthur is deliberative, graceful, and chivalrous. He is weaker than they are used to, but pushing himself as hard as he would push them. He does not win every fight, but he wins enough to gain the respect of the knight-hopefuls.
Ywain looks around at his brethren; those who have known Arthur for years, and sees what he feels reflected on their faces: He is still their leader, their champion.
"He's different, though," Idris comments quietly as he and Ywain come back from practice a month later. Arthur is nearly back in peak condition, and merrily thrashing them all. "I should not want to be the King."
"He was merely a manservant," Caindrith protests in a hushed tone, as though perhaps Arthur will hear them. Last week Sir Kenton dismissed Merlin and Arthur's hand had clenched around his wine goblet and Lady Morgana had thrown her knife at him.
It had embedded in his shoulder, and the feast had ended in chaos, but everyone now fears that Lady Morgana's temper, and knows not to dismiss Merlin, not even in death.
"He saved Arthur's life," Idris replies, as though that is all that matters.
There are two stories. The one that Uther clearly is trying to spread, and the other that Lady Morgana's maid, Gwen, is quietly spreading. Gwen's story is far more successful at capturing the people of Camelot's imaginations.
Little things change. Arthur says "my people" when speaking of state affairs. It is still "our land", though. Ywain never noticed that- that Arthur includes the landed and unlanded knights in ownership of Albion. That Arthur seems to think the king is merely a stewardship- that the land belongs to those who live upon it.
Uther seems to fade as Arthur grows stronger, and Ywain wonders if he never saw this coming: if Uther never thought one day Arthur would cease to be merely a prince and start being a king in waiting.
He became a knight to protect the realm. He never expected to serve a king whom he would gladly die for: now he looks forward to the day that he does.
…
"For the pain," Gaius says quietly, handing Uther the potion for his shoulder.
"They're all just waiting for me to die," Uther remarks, taking it and looking out the window.
"Yes," Gaius agrees.
"I never meant- "
"He has become what you made him," Gaius interrupts, watching the prince direct a royal guard, Gawain of Orkney at his side. He takes in the plaza, watches Guinevere place a bouquet of wildflowers down in the spot where Merlin's pyre was constructed, Morgana's hand curve over her shoulder and the two women turn to look at Arthur, who has stopped and is staring hard at the flowers, Gawain's hand firm on his shoulder. "He will be a good king, Sire. His people love him."
"His people," Uther repeats, and then nods almost to himself. "It is a terrible thing, to have one's child usurp one."
"It is a worse thing to see one's child burn," Gaius retorts, and leaves without asking for dismissal.
...
"He's going to die," she says bluntly. "He's going to die, his heart will fail him, and you'll be king. There was snow outside, and he didn't look much older than he is now."
Arthur's mouth works and Gwen lays a hand on his arm comfortingly.
"Arthur," Morgana prompts.
"All right," he acknowledges, before turning on his heel and leaving.
"What was that?" Morgana demands of Gwen.
"I haven't any idea. Maybe he needs time. Uther is his father, after all."
Morgana nods faintly. He needs to get ready. He doesn't have Merlin, and she doesn't think she's strong enough to deal with everything she dreams of.
...
This is what happened: the Old Religion demanded the life of Uther Pendragon in order to even the cosmic balance. And the Old Magic waited for a long time, until its vessel had matured.
And then the vessel had refused to take the life of Uther Pendragon, despite prompting, and yet the debt of life had to be satisfied.
And Old Magic and Uther Pendragon could not coexist, not in any functional manner, and so Merlin Emrys had died.
And yet the Old Magic had scooped him up, plucked him from the fire and placed the bones of another in the fire.
He had lain in Avalon, asleep and waiting for the moment he could return: the moment Uther Pendragon passed from this world to the next.
Uther Pendragon's last breath woke Merlin Emrys from his slumber, and as the dead man's skin cooled, the warlock found himself in Camelot. Specifically, in front of the dragon, who was getting quite weary of destiny, to be perfectly honest.
"Look, this makes no sense," the young warlock insists.
"You should listen to me," the dragon retorts. "And find clothes. The young Pendragon- ah, no, the only Pendragon, now- is going to be very dubious about this, and obstinate."
"Shock me," the warlock snorts. The newly-awakened are always very obnoxious.
"Go on, fulfill your destiny," the dragon sighs.
