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rainbowvamp · 3 years

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A Series of Confessions

5k. Albion Party “The Blessed Ones” The Princess Bride AU on AO3

Warnings for mentions of trauma. Last Gwen&Merlin Chapter before we focus on Lancelot and Morgana again.

---

A servant comes down while Gwen and Merlin are eating dinner and tells them that the King wishes to see them. Merlin tells Gwen to stay as he takes the audience with the king and comes back with a look on his face that makes Gwen worry her bottom lip.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, and Merlin shook his head.

“I’m afraid we’ve been offered a position it will be hard to refuse.” He looks ups and bites the inside of his cheek, eyes hard and fist clenching at his side. Merlin doesn’t anger easily and Gwen is immediately worried, standing and taking his hand in hers, wordlessly begging him to confide in her.

“The messenger, that knight. Did he ever mention that the prize for healing Morgana was serving as court physician?”

Gwen’s eyes widened and she tightened her grip on Merlin’s hand. “No. He never said any such thing.”

“No. I didn’t think he had.”

Gwen swallows hard. “Is it too late to run away?” She asked with a short, nervous laugh. Merlin unclenched his fist and turned his hand to take hers, smoothing his thumb gently over the back of it.

“If you want to, we can. I just don’t know how far we’ll get. The king was very insistent. I tried to refuse and he… well, it didn’t sound like he was going to take no for an answer.”

“We have a whole life, a village that depends on us.” She said, but he shook his head.

“He promised the current physician would be sent to see to them. He’s also very pleased that you’re a midwife.” Merlin frowned, but he squeezed her hand when he felt it tense. “I’ve told him you’re very shy, but that I would pass along the compliment.”

She laughed. “You’ve made me look helpless.”

Merlin smiled wanly. “I was more worried about keeping you away from Uther than I was saving your face.”

She sighed, squeezed his hand back so he’d release it. “Thank you.”

“Of course.”

Merlin eats his supper while Gwen reads a book she’d brought with them. She was learning to mix herbs herself, and the book was proving more useful than Merlin, whose teachings were sporadic and often included lengthy tangents that were hard to follow. She’d already managed to impress him a few times with her recommendations.

“Elyan will hate this.” She says offhandedly when she’s finished the section on rosemary.

“I was thinking we shouldn’t tell him.” Merlin said with a slight shrug and Gwen made to protest, but found that she rather agreed with him.

“He’s due to visit soon.”

“And we have to go back and get our things eventually.”

She hated that his suggestion was actually very sensible. Damn it all.

“I suppose we do.”

—

The crown prince comes in and Gwen’s worst fears come true. She stays to the side while Arthur confronts Merlin, but it doesn’t go as badly as it could. In the end the prince says thank you, but Gwen still worries.

“Do you think he suspects?” She asked, but Merlin just shrugged.

“It doesn’t matter. He didn’t make accusations, and that’s good enough.”

—

Gwen finds she doesn’t hate being the court physicians assistance as much as she thought she might. Uther is never sick, so she never has to see him. While Merlin is often called away to tend nobility, visiting or local, Gwen is often left to attend the servants and to see to people in the lower town. Sometimes she has to call for Merlin, but often she is able to help without him. It’s not much different from working in the village, only she has less time to study because she has significantly more patients, and she isn’t by Merlin’s side quite so much. She finds it rather lonely.

One night when they’re having supper, Merlin addresses their separation.

“I didn’t realize how much I’d grown to depend on you.” Merlin said and Gwen titled her head in silent question. “I’ve let myself get sloppy. Took me nearly ten minutes to find what I needed in my bag this morning.”

“You’re a mess.” Gwen confirmed. “You were actually always a mess, but whatever terrible system you had in place, I made better. Now you’re out of practice.” She smiled teasingly at him and he rolled his eyes.

“Can never resist the urge to take me down a peg, can you?” He laughed, goodnatured.

“You’d get a big head otherwise. What would the court do if their physician floated away from an inflated ego?” She took a sip of her drink and he threw his napkin at her. It barely brushed her elbow, but they were both grinning, so no harm was done.

“I want you to come with me on my rounds tomorrow. There’s no need for us to be separated.”

“Hmm, no good. I’m seeing an expectant mother tomorrow for her mid pregnancy check. She’s been complaining about backpain and a few other aches.”

Merlin laughed. “Let me go with you then. Show me what you’ve learned.”

Gwen just shrugs and the next day they start to make rounds together, unless Merlin was attending a nobleman.

—

They’d been staying in Camelot for a year when Gwen had to see her first noble patient. Merlin had tried to get her out of it, but when it came down to it, he’d needed the help. There were 8 injured knights come back from a failed scouting mission, attacked by a band of what they claimed had to be fifty men. With only two casualties to speak of, Gwen was surprised they hadn’t been hurt worse.

Gwen tries to focus on making her hands move, and pulling the right potions and herbs and making poltices. She tries to not think about all the Camelot red and blood that reminds her too much of being 15 and helpless. She tries to keep her hands gentle even when they are shaking.

“I assume you’re not used to such gruesome scenes.” The knight she is tending tells her as she wraps a wound on his arm. It has already been stitched shut by Merlin, but he left the herbs and the poltuce making to her.

“I can’t say I am.” She says quietly, trying to focus on her work and not on him.

Was this one of the knights who stood by and watched her father be slain?

“I’m sorry you’re being tested this way. But if it’s any consolation, you’re doing as well as any battle field nurse I’ve ever known.”

“Thank you.” She says, because she can’t rebuff a compliment from a nobleman, no matter how much her hands are shaking.

“It’s Sir Leon.” He tells her, and she looks up at him again, for the first time since she’d started working on him.

“Oh, the messenger.” She says, recognizing his blue eyes and curling hair from that strange bow her first day in Camelot.

“I’m usually much more than that, but yes.” He smiled at her, and she went back to tending his wounds.

—

In the nearly three years she spends in Camelot, Gwen is content. No new friends made, but no fewer friends than she’d had after leaving her own village. She finds it easy to disappear into shadows when she isn’t working, and that’s probably why when Prince Arthur storms into the physician’s quarters, he doesn’t pay her any mind.

“What did you give Morgana?” He asks through gritted teeth, already seething and angry. Gwen tries to find something to occupy herself, turning her back to the prince to try and hide her own anxiety at the question.

Merlin has no need to hide though.

“What is this about? I haven’t seen the Lady Morgana in years.” Merlin doesn’t even look up from the book he’s studying to say this, as Gwen can so clearly see out of the corner of her eye. She’s never understood how Merlin can be so brazen to nobles.

“When you first came here, you gave her something. It made her better, but it also made her forget her fiancé, didn’t it? Or, she forgot that she loved him, or that she was hurting, or something!” Gwen flinches when Arthur raises his voice, hiding her face behind her hair, loosened after too long spent tied up had left her with a throbbing headache. It was actually rather improper that her hair be loose in front of him, but she hadn’t exactly had time to fix it or even put a cap on.

Merlin puts his book down. Gwen can hear the spine being placed on the table, and she dares not look at the exchange unfolding. “I gave a sick girl medicine and I helped her get better, My Lord. That’s my job.”

“How is it better to forget your love?!”

Gwen finds herself asking the same question.

Of course, Merlin has an answer. He always has an answer.

“She was dying for him, Arthur. Doesn’t your friend deserve a chance to live her life, free of pain?” Something about the way that Merlin says it, the tension in his voice like he’s holding something dangerous back, makes Gwen look back at them. She can only see the back of Merlin’s head, but something about the set of his shoulders worries her. It’s too tight. Merlin is never tense. She finds herself moving closer to them to try and get a better look at Merlin’s face.

“Life is full of pain. You can’t simply get rid of it. What sort of heartless bastard are you?” Arthur gnashes his teeth and Gwen sees the flash of gold in Merlin’s eyes that means he’s suppressing his magic. She moves forward, quickly, determinedly, when Merlin stands up like he means to confront the prince.

Now is not the time to be brave. Because they are in the wrong and the prince seems to know it.

Gwen makes up an appointment. She’s a terrible liar, but she acts like she’s sure, like they had just come back to the room for supplies so they could see to an earlier than expected birth, and the Prince seems to believe it, because he lets them go, Gwen barely having time to take a cap from the table while Merlin grabbed the wrong bag for delivering babies.

Gwen quickly braids her hair and tucks it away. It’s a terrible job and she’ll have to detangle it more than unbraid it, but it can’t be helped. They go to the stables to retrieve their horses, and Gwen doesn’t dare speak until they’re outside the castle gate and on the quiet streets of town.

“Is that true?” Is what she finally asks when they’re away from anyone who might here them, drowned out by the sounds of the night.

“What?” Merlin asks, but she can tell by the way he holds his shoulder’s tight that he knows exactly what she’s asking.

“Did you make her forget her fiancé? Is that why she’s so much better.”

“Guinevere, I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Don’t use my full name with me. I gave her that potion myself, trusting that you knew what you were doing. I have a right to know.” Gwen felt her own hackles rising, disturbed by Merlin’s reluctance to answer. She feared the worst.

Merlin runs his tongue over his teeth, keeping his eyes straight ahead as they continue to ride. “It is safer for you if you don’t know.”

“I don’t care. I deserve to know what I’ve done to that poor girl.”

“What I’ve done. You did nothing but give her the potion. I choose it. You don’t have any culpability here.”

“Yes, I do. I could’ve asked. Should’ve asked. I’d never seen you use it before, and I didn’t know what it did. I administer it to her myself, and I should’ve known what it did first. That’s on me.” Gwen stops her horse, forces Merlin to stop and look at her, not to focus on the road ahead. “Tell me, Merlin.”

“She didn’t forget her fiancé.” He finally said with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. His eyes were closed in the dark, and his skin looked paler than normal. Maybe it was just the moonlight. Maybe not. “I couldn’t have done something like that without a spell. It’s- The potion is harmless. I’ve used it before with no ill effects.”

“Then what does it do? Explain it to me, Merlin, because I’m starting to feel like an accomplice to a terrible deed and I need to understand.”

“It… it’s like a painkiller for the heart. When I give someone a draught for pain the pain doesn’t go away, it just becomes more distant, harder to feel. The potion I gave her made it impossible for her to feel hopeless and sad because of the loss of her fiancé and parents. She still loves them, still misses them, but the pain has been numbed.”

“And what gave you the right to do that to her?” She couldn’t believe this. Couldn’t believe what Merlin had done.

“She was dying, Gwen!” Merlin is very rarely curt with her, but his outburst makes her sit back in her saddle, her horse trotting in place uneasily, held still only by Gwen’s firm hand on the reins. “She was dying, and I’m not sorry. I knew what the potion would do. I knew it would save her life, and the cost was just her pain. How is that wrong?”

“You didn’t ask her, didn’t even tell her. What must she think of herself, for just completely forgetting to mourn her family?”

Merlin shook his head. “You don’t understand. You’ve never been in love, never felt the loss of it. It’s devastating, Gwen, and I did what I did to save her life.”

“Don’t I? What, because I’ve never loved someone and lost them? Why am I here, Merlin? Why do I travel with you? I watched my father die, murdered in cold blood. But of course, I can’t understand how devastating it is to lose someone you love.” Gwen clicked her tongue and turned her horse, heading back to the castle. She couldn’t even look at Merlin, she was so hurt. She swallowed back the pain of it, willing her eyes to stay dry.

“I didn’t mean-“ behind her Gwen heard Merlin’s own horse turn around to follow her, and she urged her horse to speed up, just a little. She wasn’t going to run through the streets of Camelot in the middle of the night, but she was not above keeping a faster pace to stay ahead of Merlin. “Damn it all.” She hears Merlin mutter to himself, forcing his horse into a brief gallop to catch up with her. “Guinevere, that isn’t what I meant. Of course it’s not. It’s just- It’s very complicated.”

“Then uncomplicated it. Give me the beginners version, do something, Merlin, because insulting me is far from what I was expecting from you tonight.” Gwen didn’t look at him, keeping her gaze steady ahead of her.

He sighed, “Fine. When we get back. I’ll explain.”

“Good.”

They stable the horses, and Gwen leaves a lie with the stable hand that it had been a false alarm. No baby, just false contractions. If Arthur happens to enquire about why they’re back so early, that should suit him.

In their rooms, Merlin collapses onto the bench of their work/kitchen table immediately, head in his hands and palms rubbing at his eyes. Gwen puts away their supplies and waits for her answer.

“You’re not going to like this.” He tells her, and her lips thin.

“I already don’t like it. I would like to understand.”

Merlin laid his head down on the workbench, forehead against his folded arms, and said something that Gwen didn’t quite catch, speech muffled by the cage of his arms and the table.

“Come again?” She asked, taking her hair out of her cap and inspecting the damage.

Merlin lifts his head, resting his chin where his forehead had been, eyes closed like he was exhausted by the effort of speaking. “I said, I used it on myself.”

This gives Gwen pause from trying to detangle her curls with her fingers. “The potion you gave Morgana?”

“Yes.” His eyes stay closed for a few seconds, and then when he finally looks up at her, his expression is almost blank. “I know it’s safe, and I know what it takes and doesn’t take, because I’ve used it on myself.”

Gwen leaves her hair, tangled and forgotten to take a seat across from Merlin, her good friend of many years now. She feels like she should take his hand, or give some sort of reassurance, but his body is so tightly wound she’s afraid he’ll react badly to any attempt at comfort. “How long ago?”

“Long before we met. Before I met Elyan, even. I know it works, and it makes life manageable, bearable. The only way out of that sort of loss is through it, you know that. But you can’t make it through it if you’re dead.”

Merlin’s bright blue eyes are wet, but not yet crying. They shine with the pleas of a man who just needs to be told that someone understands. And Gwen does understand, but that doesn’t mean she thinks it’s right.

“She didn’t know what the potion would do. I don’t think it was right to give it to her without at least telling her what the effects would be.”

“There’s not way to explain the effects without including magic. It’s a matter of our safety that I didn’t. Nothing else would’ve worked, Gwen. I did what I had to do.”

Gwen swallowed, but held her ground. “How can you know that? You didn’t try anything else.”

“Not on her.” He muttered, darkly, and Gwen can feel an answering darkness forming inside of her.

Who had he lost? What had he tried? What had driven Merlin to such desperations?

“Who?” She asked, and he laughed, but it was bitter, cold. Not toward her, she didn’t think, but it was hard to tell. He was so rarely like this, and his intentions were hard to read.

“It doesn’t matter anymore. He’s been dead for a very long time. It’s been ages since I thought of him.”

“That’s terrible.” Gwen whispered, thinking about her own father, her mother, who she still thought of nearly every day, who she remembered fondly, if painfully, even in her darkest moments. “It must be hard to forget.”

“I didn’t forget him.” He repeats himself, and Gwen wonders if he’s saying that for her benefit or his own. “I just disconnected myself from the pain of remembering him.”

Gwen hears “him” over and over, and wonders if she wasn’t so far off when she asked if Merlin preferred the company of men. But he didn’t offer the information, and she wouldn’t pry.

“Is the potion why you said you couldn’t love?”

Merlin closes his eyes, inhales slowly before looking at her again. “Yes. It’s not why I don’t love you, but it is why I can’t love.”

“So you’ve taken any ability Morgana might have had to love again as well.”

Merlin shook his head, another dark, sad huff of laughter passing through his lips. “She would never have loved again. Not like that.”

“How can you know-“

“I’m tired.” Merlin stands up and brings the conversation to a sudden halt. “I’m going to bed. I don’t feel like answering any more questions.”

Gwen is left at the table, mouth open and head swimming with questions. She is all at once angry at Merlin, and sorry for him, and aching, painfully aching, for him.

She wipes at her eyes, even though no tears have fallen, but finally gets up and gets ready for bed. She sleeps in the back room that they’re meant to share, but have found better for their sanity that they don’t. She hears Merlin putting his cot out, but the clanking and clattering is far louder than it usually is.

It’s a long night, filled with anxiety and fear. She wonders if she should tell the Lady Morgana, if it would betray Merlin’s confidence if she did. She dismisses the thought rather quickly, since Merlin was right and Magic would be the most likely culprit for what had been done to her. She was angry with Merlin, and thought what he did was wrong, but she didn’t want to see him strung up and made an example of. She didn’t want to see him burned or beheaded.

So, late in the night, despite her fears, she decided that she would keep her mouth shut, and simply say nothing.

Time goes by and Gwen becomes more skilled. She and Merlin go back to separating their duties, Merlin staying on call in the castle while Gwen attended to the inhabitants of the lower town.

They don’t see much of each other outside of the mornings and the evenings. Even the castle staff takes notice and a few of the maids ask her if things are alright with her husband. She smiles, nods, gives as little of an answer as she can manage, but never dares confide in any of them. [ 8/15/21, 4:39 PM Leon notices this, and hears whispers that the physician and his wife have had a falling out. He knows her name from the servants, Guinevere, and it is like a prayer to him. He loves her so dearly. The other knights rib him for being so obviously infatuated with a married woman, but Leon is stuck. She’s beautiful, and kind and he hears nothing but good things from the people in the lower town who she sees to. She’s a competent healer and Leon is smitten. He’s sorry that she’s fallen out with her husband, but he wonders if maybe it means there’s a chance.

Of course there isn’t as soon as he gets up the courage to ask her a simple question he notices that she and Merlin are on the ups again, and he loses his nerve. ]

With time the gossip dies, moving on to the next interesting thing, and Gwen’s life calms down. She and Merlin return to some semblance of normal, but she and Merlin maintain their separate rounds.

This peace doesn’t last long before she comes home from a round in the lower town and finds Merlin packing.

“Where are you going?” She asked, setting her bag down and examining the chaos of their rooms.

“I’ve been fired.” Merlin said while shoving clothes into a travel bag that had been put away since they’re first moved their things to Camelot.

“What? Why?” Gwen goes to Merlin, trying to catch his eyes, and she gasps when she sees the bruise forming on his cheek. “Oh, Merlin,” She reaches out to touch his cheek just beside the bruise, but he pulls his head away, snapping at her, “Don’t.”

“Let me put some salve on it, at least. Who did this to you?” She went back to her bag to get the salve, despite his protests.

“His royal pratness, the crown prince, takes issue with my medicine. He came here and demanded that I reverse Morgana’s mind sickness, make her ill again.” He scoffed. “He doesn’t understand. None of you do. I can’t- I can’t even describe the difference in my demeanor before and after I took that potion, Gwen. The only thing I could think about before was how much I missed him and how much I wanted to join him in the afterlife.” Merlin swallows hard, like it might hurt him to remember, but he blinks and the pain is gone again. “I did what was best for her, and I don’t regret it, no matter how many people frown at my methods.”

Gwen has fought this battle with him too many times. She just sighed and went to her room to start packing her things.

It takes him a few minutes to realize that’s what she’s doing, apparently, because when he calls to her, he sounds surprised. “What are you doing?”

This, to Gwen, seems like a silly question. “I’m packing. You said we were fired.”

“I said I was fired. He never even mentioned you. You could stay if you wanted.”

Gwen popped her head around the door to look at him with raised eyebrows and an apprehensive smile. “And what part of working for the man who murdered my father do you think is most appealing to me, exactly? The fact that he doesn’t know my name, or the fact that he still carries my father’s stolen sword around like a trophy?” She keeps her tone light, but she really can’t believe he even suggested that she might want to stay. “Don’t pack your medicine, I’ll do it. You always do a bad job.”

“I do not!” He protested, but she could hear the smile in his voice even after she moved away from the door.

Back home it was.

—

The ride is actually very peaceful. Some things will be sent after them[ Leon offers to be on the one to go with their things, only to find Gwen is out on rounds when he arrives. ], but they’re gone by the next morning. A weight Gwen hadn’t realized had been pressing down on her suddenly felt relieved, and she sat a little taller on her horse when they exited the castle gates for the last time.

“We’ll never come back here.” He promised her, and she grinned.

“Good. I hate the king.”

“With good reason.” Merlin’s bruise had only gotten worse, and she was fairly certain he hadn’t put any salve on it. Silly man. She shook her head and they rode in silence.

After years of living in the castle, Gwen had forgotten what life on the road was like. It was more uncomfortable than she remembered, but she’d grown very used to sleeping in the same bed in a fairly warm castle every night, and was no longer used to the hard ground or the chilly nights.

Merlin puts their bed rolls together and lets her share his blanket and body heat the day before they reach their village. A few years ago, this might have made her blush, but Merlin was her friend, and he had seen her in so many varieties of undress that it didn’t really bother her to lay beside him in her shift.

Like that first night beside him, so many nights ago, she finds herself turning to the stars for comfort. It’s autumn, and the constellations have changed. She finds once again that she doesn’t recognize any of them, but an occasional cloud moves over the moon to cover the sky and she finds more joy in watching them pass than she would have in trying to count the stars.

“He used to love the stars.” Merlin said quietly, when Gwen was nearly asleep. She makes a soft noise of acknowledgement, turning her face in his direction without really opening her eyes. “All the constellations I know, I learned from him.”

“The one who you took the potion for?” Her words run together, but she’s slowly coming back to. He strokes her hair away from her forehead with gentle fingers and she finds it harder to want to rouse herself.

“Yes.”

“What was his name?” She asked, not to be nosy, but because she thought everyone deserved to talk about the people they loved. Merlin had certainly listened to enough of her stories about Elyan and her mother and father. It only seemed fitting she returned the favor.

“Gwaine.” Merlin said, and Gwen smiled at the sound. It was Merlin’s own tone that made her do it, the happiness of it infectious. “He was a drunkard, and a tavern brawler. Couldn’t stay out of trouble to save his own life, not that it ever needed saving. He was one of the most skilled swordsman I’d ever seen. Wonderful hair.” He laughed and Gwen found herself laughing with him.

“He sounds wonderful.” She can’t tell if she’s being sincere or not, but it doesn’t seem to matter to Merlin.

“He was.” He strokes her shoulder with his thumb absently, and when she finally manages to pry her eyes open, he’s not looking at her, eyes focused on the sky. “He was everything to me. When he left, he promised me he’d be back in six months, richer than anything, and we’d settle down somewhere.” His eyes become glazed, almost blank when he spoke again. “But he never came back. When I heard he’d been killed, I couldn’t move for days. A local village woman came to ask for help for her son, and she found me lying in my own filth, wasting away. She made me get up, wash, and see to her child. For a while, that was enough. Knowing I was needed and I had to go on kept me going.

“But every day that passed and left me without him became more and more unbearable. I’d read about the remedy in a book years before, and it was only when I started contemplating taking my own life that I finally managed to make myself find the brew and make it. It was the first time in months that I hadn’t felt the crushing weight on me. The side effects mean that I can’t love that way again, but I never would’ve. He was it for me. He was all I’d ever wanted. Without him, I was as good as dead.”

“So you forgot.”

“So I forgot.”

Gwen scoots forward and wraps her arms around him as well as she can, laying her head on his chest and giving him the best hug she can muster. “I’m sorry.” She whispered against his chest. “No one should have to go through that.”

“No,” He nodded, kissing the top of her head. “They shouldn’t.”

She keeps her arms wrapped around him until she’s sure the worst of it has passed, and then settles back on her own bedroll.

“Do you still hate me for what I did?” The question is trying to be light hearted, but Merlin won’t look at her.

“No. I never hated you.” She leaned her head against his and he closed his eyes, just breathing softly together for a few quiet moment. “I could never hate you.”

“You’re a better friend than I’ve ever deserved, Guinevere.”

“Nonsense.” She smiled and stroked her thumb over his cheek, pulling back so she could look him in they eyes. “There’s no such thing as deserves. Life threw us together and we made the best of it. I’d say we did fairly well for ourselves.”

His answering smile is soft, not disingenuous, but not entirely real either. “I’d say I came out with the better bargain. You keep me sane.”

“I try my best. You don’t make it easy.” She laughed and was pleased when he managed a real laugh of his own along side it.

“I haven’t told anyone about him in over ten years.” He said with a shake of his head. “I don’t think I could’ve chosen a better person to share with.”

“I’m honored.” She touched his chest and his eyes met hers, steel blue in the moonlight and on the very brink of tears. “Get some sleep. We have a long ride in the morning.”

He nods, and they don’t separate as far as they normally would. The gap between them is not entirely proper, but their friendship ran deeper than propriety. “Good night, Gwen.”

“Good night, Merlin.”

In the morning, she finds herself curled up against Merlin’s chest, with one of Merlin’s arms tucked around her. It’s the first time she’s ever woken up in a man’s arms, and she thinks it should feel different, strange, but it doesn’t really. It just feels like being near to Merlin. She wakes him and reminds him that they need to set off. He grumbles about wanting to sleep some more, but it’s half hearted. Neither of them speak about how they woke up. It doesn’t feel particularly necessary. They pack their things and set off, only a half day’s ride from home, now.

#pbau #pbau proper #lysa's pbau #albionparty21 #gwen #merlin #fic

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cupcakezys · 5 years

Text

The Sins of the Father (and how to right them).

Read on AO3.

Pairings: None.

Summary: Basically how season 2 episode 8 should have gone, because I can’t stop thinking how Merlin had the perfect chance here, and I like to imagine what could have been. Written at midnight after I got possessed by the Writing SpiritTM, so I hope there aren’t too many mistakes. Enjoy.

Merlin’s heart pounded a mile a minute as he tore up the stairway. All he could think of was Arthur Arthur Arthur, and the silent fury that had been simmering just beneath the surface ever since his mother had told him the true nature of his birth. A man could kill hundreds with such fury, but Merlin knew Arthur. There was only one man the prince would kill tonight, and it was the one man he knew Arthur would never forgive himself for killing, no matter how much Uther might deserve it.

Every breath burned as he scrambled down the corridor, the council chamber’s door finally in sight. Leon stood guard outside, and Merlin cursed under his breath. Leon looked up in surprise as he came hurtling towards him, and Merlin almost thought it was enough to get him inside without any trouble. Unfortunately, Leon shoved him back as he made to reach out for the door, and grabbed him went he went to try again.

He pushed him against the wall, gently enough that he didn’t hit his head, and shook him a little. “The King has forbidden anyone to enter!”

Merlin growled, struggling in his hold. Sir Leon, however, was First Knight for a reason, and Merlin was no match for his strength. He wiggled and pushed at Leon’s chest, eyes slipping back to the door. The sound of steel meeting steel sent another shot of panic through his heart.

“They’re going to kill each other!” He shouted desperately.

Leon’s eyes widened in shock, and only widened further as he too heard the sounds of a fight from within the chamber. He glanced at the door, conflicted. Merlin saw worry, and then genuine fear flash through Leon’s eyes as the crashing of swords suddenly came to a halt, leaving a dead silence in its wake. His grip on Merlin slackened.

Merlin immediately pushed him away, the knight stumbling back in his shock, and ducked under his arm. He lunged for the doors, heart pounding loudly in his ears as he prayed to all the gods he knew to please, please don’t let him be too late, let him be in time, let him save Arthur this fate-

Relief flooded through him when he saw Arthur towering over a chair, his father unarmed and pressed back into the seat as far as he could go. Arthur was holding his sword to the King’s chest, shoulders tense and breathing harsh, but Merlin could hardly make himself care because Uther was alive and that meant he could still stop Arthur from making a decision that would cripple him for the rest of his life. He just had to be quick, and convincing.

“Arthur! Don’t!” He yelled, still breathing hard as he took a few steps towards his prince. “I know you don’t want to do this.”

Arthur didn’t even bother glancing at him. “My mother is dead because of him!”

Merlin thought of the blonde woman that had looked so much like Arthur, how she had told them the King’s dirtiest secret, and gulped.

“Killing your father won’t bring her back.” He said, taking another step forward. “You’ve lost one parent. Do you really want to lose another?”

Arthur cocked his head, and Merlin knew he was listening. Something in him relaxed. He wasn’t too far lost in his fury that he wouldn’t listen to reason, listen to Merlin.

He almost thought that would be enough.

Then Uther ruined it.

“Listen to him Arthur.” He urged, and just like that Arthur’s rage was back in full force.

His eyes focused back on his father and he tightened his grip on his sword. It pressed dangerously close to Uther’s chest, and Merlin had seen him fight enough bandits to know what would come next. Fresh panic ripped through him.

He took two more desperate steps towards Arthur, begging. “Arthur, please, put the sword down.”

Arthur’s eyes didn’t leave his father’s as he seethed. “You heard what my mother said! After everything he has done, do you believe he deserves to live?! He executes those who use magic, and yet he has used it himself!” He stopped talking to Merlin, pressed the sword even closer to Uther’s heart. “You have caused so much suffering and pain! I will put an end to that!”

Merlin felt like he’d been punched in the gut. Everything he’d ever wanted to hear Arthur say, all he’d been hoping to hear since the dragon told him of their shared destiny, and it was only happening as things were about to go so horribly wrong. He had to stop this.

For a second, he considered lying. Considered telling Arthur that Morgause was a liar, that she had summoned an illusion to whisper the words she knew would turn Arthur away from his father. He almost did, the words heavy on his tongue.

Then he looked at Uther.

He’d never seen the King so afraid, so distraught. He was staring at Arthur like his whole world had just been shattered, and some small part of him revelled in the man’s suffering. What loyalty did he owe him, this mad tyrant that had killed so many of his kind because he couldn’t bare the weight of his own guilt? What did he owe Uther, when no matter what he did, if he were to find out about the magic Merlin had been born with, he would immediately call for his execution? Nothing, he realised.

This was his nightmare, the demon that haunted his every waking hour, and Merlin owed him not one single thing. And with that realisation, his decision was made.

He would spare Arthur the pain of losing his father, but he would not spare Uther the pain of losing his son.

Distantly, he heard Gaius enter the room. He didn’t even glance at his mentor, instead choosing to focus his gaze on Arthur. The prince hadn’t moved. He was waiting for Merlin’s answer, he knew. He wanted to do what was right, but he didn’t want to kill his father. He was looking for a way out.

Merlin would give him one, but it would not be the way out he was hoping for.

“I know what your mother said.” He spoke gently, trying to sooth Arthur as he slowly crept forward. “And I know what he has done.”

“Then you agree he has to die.” Arthur’s voice was hard, anger giving it an edge sharper than steel.

Yes, Merlin though, though he couldn’t say it. Not when he knew what the consequences would be.

“I agree he deserves to face justice.” Merlin said, trying and failing to catch Arthur’s eye. “I believe that everything your mother told us was the truth, and that any crimes he has committed should be repaid in full.” He hesitated, took three more quick steps until he reached Arthur’s side. “But I also think you should put the sword down. This isn’t how this should be done Arthur, and you know it.”

Finally, finally, Arthur looked at him. It was easy to see the fury in his eyes. What was harder to see was the heartbreak, the sting of betrayal, but Merlin knew Arthur well. He couldn’t hide anything from him, not anymore.

“He killed her. He betrayed both of us.” Arthur said weakly, and even though there wasn’t a trace of wetness in his eyes, Merlin could hear the tears in his voice.

“I know.” Merlin swallowed thickly, and gently pushed the sword away from Uther’s chest. “But I know you. No matter how angry you are, no matter how much he deserves it, you would never want to kill you father.” He stepped fully between father and son, his hand gripping Arthur’s arm tight. “You would never forgive yourself.”

Arthur shook his head, but it was weak, barely a protest at all, and Merlin knew he had almost done it. He squeezed Arthur’s arm, then ran his hand down till he could tug at the sword hilt still clutched loosely in Arthur’s hand.

“Remember what your mother said.” He murmured gently, tugging again. “Don’t let this information change you Arthur. She wouldn’t want you to do this.”

Arthur sucked in a ragged breath, then another, and then his hand opened, and Merlin was able to take the sword from him. Arthur turned away, fists clenching and unclenching by his side for a moment as everyone in the room held their breath.

“Do you deny it?” Arthur asked, quiet and cold. Merlin shivered under the force of it. “Do you deny that you were responsible for my mother’s death? That I was born of magic?”

“I swear on my life.” Uther began hoarsely, and Merlin wondered how deluded he was in his own lies to continue believing he was innocent of all blame. “That I loved your mother. There isn't a day passes that I don't wish that she were still alive. I could never have done anything to hurt her.”

“But you would have done anything for an heir.” Arthur said, and was met with silence. The prince snorted, a dark and ugly sound. “It doesn’t matter anymore. I am not your son- you are not my father. Not anymore.”

Arthur strode for the door, and for a moment Merlin was too frozen to follow. Arthur passed Gaius and Leon, and only stopped when Uther spoke up again.

“You would turn your back on your father and your crown based on the words of a sorceress?”

Merlin stiffened, and he wondered for a second if he would succumb to his own anger and use Arthur’s sword to end the tyrant king once and for all. But no, he couldn’t do that, wouldn’t do that. Not to Arthur. Never to Arthur.

Arthur turned his head to the side and spat. “I would believe the words of my mother over those of a hypocrite and a murderer.”

Merlin saw Uther flinch out of the corner of his eye. He felt that small part of his rise up again, a dark kind of joy at seeing his personal monster look so broken. But then Arthur was moving out of the room again, and Merlin was no longer frozen, so he threw the sword on the council table and ran after his friend.

Gaius, he was sure, sent him some kind of look as he passed. Leon may have as well. He didn’t pay attention to either of them. They weren’t important right now. There was only one person that was, and he was striding away faster than Merlin could walk.

Merlin only caught up to Arthur after he had slammed the door to his chambers shut. Merlin winced, and wondered if the wood might give out one day soon after another one of those slams. Then he shook the thought from his head and pushed forward, not bothering to knock. He never did.

Arthur was standing by the fire pit, peering into the unlit fire. Merlin could see the shaking of his shoulders from the door, knew as he got closer he would see tears of pain and betrayal in his friends’ eyes. It made his own heart hurt, to see his friend hurt in such a way.

He closed and locked the door behind him, not wanting to risk anyone disturbing them. Not right now. He moved forward, for once gliding across the ground with grace, not a single clumsy step in his movements. His magic buzzed through him, and Merlin wished he could use it to stop the hurt somehow.

“My whole life has been a lie.” Arthur whispered quietly, and Merlin’s heart broke all over again.

“Come on Arthur.” He murmured, resting a hand on Arthur’s arm. “Let’s get you out of that armour.”

Arthur let him pull him away from the fire, let him strip him of the heavy metal of his armour. Merlin worked quickly, fingers confident and sure with the knowledge that he had done this hundreds of times. By the time he was finished Arthur was shaking even harder. Merlin recognized the confusing mix of anger and sadness in Arthur’s eyes, knew it was something only time could ever hope to heal.

“Come sit.” He said, tugging on Arthur’s arm again until he sat in a chair in front of the fireplace. “I’ll get a fire going.”

He was crouched down with flint and steel in hand when Arthur spoke again.

“So many people are dead. So many innocent people, dead, because of his lies.” Arthur made a sound of pain, deep in his throat. “I’ve killed so many in his name Merlin. Hundreds, maybe even thousands, and I-“

Merlin cursed and his eyes flashed as he quickly spelled a fire into existence and turned to Arthur. He crouched in front of his friend, cradling his hands in his own. It was horrible, watching Arthur fall apart like this.

“Hey, Arthur, look at me.” Arthur refused to meet his gaze, but Merlin made him, tilting his head until he was staring into tearful blue eyes. “You are not to blame for any of that.”

Arthur shook his head and tried to shake his hands off him, but Merlin held on tight. “How can you say that- how can you possibly- I should have known Merlin-“

“No!” Merlin yelled, with more force than he had meant. Arthur fell quiet. “No.” He repeated, gentler this time. “You were doing what you thought was right. What you’d been taught was right. You couldn’t have known Arthur, please, don’t blame yourself for your fathers lies.”

“He’s not my father.” Arthur growled. Merlin knew he meant it. “I can’t see him as my father, not anymore.”

Merlin nodded. “Alright. The King, then.”

“I’m not so sure he should be that either.” Arthur muttered. “All my life I’ve been taught that to be a king is to be honorable and noble. It means you have a duty to protect those that you rule, to keep them from harm.” He sighed, shoulders slumped. “He’s done none of that.”

Merlin’s throat closed up. He wasn’t sure what to say, wasn’t sure what he could say. Uther was, in Merlin’s humble opinion, the worst king to ever exist. If asked, there was only one thing he had ever done right, and he was sitting right in front of him. No matter how he had been conceived, Merlin was selfishly grateful Arthur had been born. He’d stopped being able to imagine a life without him for a long time now.

“You won’t make his mistakes.” Merlin breathed, gaining Arthur’s attention again. “You’ll be the greatest king to ever rule, and I promise I will always be by your side.”

Arthur laughed, though it was a small and disbelieving sound. “You’ll be my servant until the day you die?”

Merlin smiled, sincere. “Gladly.”

Arthur shook his head and finally pulled his hands away. “How can you still believe in me?” He asked, and Merlin hated how broken it sounded. “I’ve done so much wrong Merlin. More than even you know.”

Merlin sighed and sat down on the floor properly. “We’ve all done wrong Arthur.” This earned him a questioning look that he ignored. “What matters is how we try and right those wrongs. And I know you. You’ll do whatever you can to right a wrong, even if it wasn’t your own.”

Quiet descended upon the room as Arthur digested all that Merlin has said. Merlin left him to it, moving around the room quietly. There were several pairs of socks thrown about the room, and Arthur would be needing a bath before bed tonight. He grabbed Arthur’s sleeping tunic from his wardrobe and laid it out on the bed, glancing at Arthur as he did.

He hadn’t moved from his chair. Merlin stopped for a moment, just watching. Arthur was staring into the fire. He couldn’t see the look on his face from where he was, but from the back he was the picture of lonely misery. It made Merlin’s feet move back towards him before he was even aware of what he was doing.

He stopped next to Arthur’s chair, surprised when Arthur looked up at him, eyes dry and determined.

“I am indebted to you, Merlin.” He said, shocking him further. “It is clear to me now that those who practice magic aren’t inherently evil or dangerous. And that is thanks to you.”

Merlin’s breath caught. “Glad I could help.” He breathed out slowly, heartbeat loud in his ears. “Do you really mean that?”

“Of course.” Arthur frowned slightly. “How can I not, after all I have learned today?”

Merlin could have cried. Now was, perhaps, not the time to reveal his secret. Now was probably a horrible time to reveal his secret. It might just confuse Arthur more. He could take Merlin’s lies and see them as a betrayal, and he wasn’t sure Arthur could handle another betrayal so soon.

But his whole being was practically singing with happiness. He’d never really, truly dared to hope to hear those words from Arthur. Even with the dragon telling him all about the future, about their destiny, Merlin never really let himself wonder what it might be like. That road had always led to madness, something he had learned as a young child.

“I need to tell you something.” He blurted, before he could stop himself.

Arthur raised an eyebrow tiredly. “What?”

There was no playful ridicule in his tone, no banter for Merlin the fall back on. Merlin was glad. He wouldn’t be able to do this if Arthur wasn’t prepared to take him seriously. He breathed deep, and met Arthur’s eyes with just as much determination as Arthur had. It was the determination to right the wrongs of the world, to protect the innocent and weak.

It was the determination to bring magic and peace to the whole of Albion.

Merlin opened his mouth.

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