“How?” They all sit on the front of the wagon. Claire is addressing her uncle.
“I should have tried earlier. The stories were hard to believe.” He cannot believe he is sitting beside this grown woman, his niece. The little girl he remembers is still there, under the adult. He thanks God that she found someone to care for her. Still, it should've been and could've been him.
“I never thought I would see you again. This is a miracle. Don't feel bad that you are just now arriving.” The sense of unrealness she feels is slowly fading. Wonder and awe is replacing it.
“To see you grown and married,” he looks at Jamie, who is still in a state of shock, “I cannot believe this is real.”
“I wonder,” Jamie slowly says, “if it was our plan that drew you here?”
“Oh,” her eyes get huge and she brings her hand to her mouth, “ you may be right.”
“What plan?” Lamb asks.
“We are heading to my family home to leave a message for my mam. We were going to leave one for you, as well. A way to let you guys know we are alright.”
“That decision influenced mine?” He frowns, “ an interesting theory. Whatever it was, I am just glad we are together again.”
His niece hugs him. “Me too.”
“You are welcome to come to Lallybroch with us but we need a story about where you have been.”
“Right, because they know Claire and who has been raising her?”
“They do. Don't be jealous. I don't know where I would be without them.”
“I am not, sweet lamb. I am thankful. For them and for your husband.”
“We will figure out a story on the way.” Jamie says.
They all three start off again. The journey will give Claire and Lamb plenty of time to catch up.
It was the following day, though he, Gaius, and Jada were once again in Gaius’ quarters, each busying themselves with their own tasks while Merlin’s thoughts buzzed around and around his head.
But now Jada’s music stopped, and Gaius looked up at him in surprised from where he’d been counting stock.
“Sorry?” Gaius asked.
Merlin cleared his throat before trying again. “Uther. Do you think he’s good for the kingdom?”
Gaius thought for a moment. “Yes. Yes, I do.”
Jada made a sound that was somewhere between a scoff and a snort, but ducked her head away from Gaius’ sharp glance.
“In the light of recent events,” he continued, returning to his counting, “You may find that hard to believe.”
Gaius turned to regard him for a moment, then set his work aside. “Merlin-”
“Everyone hates him,” Merlin blurted.
Gaius studied him some more, then rose from his seat. “It is not Uther’s job to be liked,” he explained sagely. “It is his job to protect the kingdom. Most of his methods are right. Sometimes he may go too far.”
Merlin couldn’t keep his bitterness from bursting out. “Really? You mean like executing anyone who even passes a sorcerer on the street?”
Gaius bowed his head for a moment, then rounded the table to sit opposite Merlin. As he passed in front of Jada, Merlin noticed her watching intently.
“Yes,” Gaius admitted. “But despite Uther’s failings, he has brought peace and prosperity to this kingdom.”
“But at what cost?” Merlin demanded. “At the cost of women and children, fathers and sons! When will it end?”
Gaius’ voice remained even. “It will end when Arthur is King.”
Merlin leant forwards, his expression intense. “Then why not let that time be now? Why not let Arthur be King?”
“Arthur’s not ready. The responsibility would be too great. Brave though he may be, he lacks experience, he lacks judgment.”
With a sigh, Merlin shut his eyes, shaking his head in frustration. It was all too much; too much for one person to figure out alone.
He turned his face away, but Gaius rose to his feet again, moving to try and make Merlin meet his gaze. “Is there anything you want to tell me?” he asked.
Merlin couldn’t look at him. It was too much for him to figure out alone, but alone he had to be. There was too much at stake. “I can’t!” he answered, his voice hopeless. “I just… No, I can’t. You’ve just got to trust me.” He looked up at Gaius now, meeting his mentor’s steady gaze. “Gaius, it’s something I’ve got to work out for myself.”
Gaius was silent for only a second before he nodded. “I do trust you, Merlin. Whatever it is, I know you’ll make the right decision.”
He stepped back, shuffling over to continue his counting, and now that he was no longer taking up all of Merlin’s vision, Merlin found himself meeting Jada’s gaze. She was staring directly at him, something unreadable in her expression, but her eyes were far too knowing for his liking.
Merlin dropped his eyes.
He’d thought that would be the end of it, that the discussion was finished and he would be left in peace to come to a decision, but Jada seemed to think otherwise. She waited until he was about to head off to work again, just as he was picking his jacket up from by the door, then stepped in close enough to make his breathing stutter as her fingers closed gently around his wrist.
He mirrored her wary glance towards Gaius, but he was fully engrossed in his own work on the other side of the room and showed no signs of hearing her lowered voice.
“Hey, this isn’t about what I said, is it?” she asked. “About Nimueh’s offer?”
“What do you mean?” Merlin tried, but that only served to make her look more worried.
“Look, you don’t have to tell me,” she murmured with another glance back, “But I just need to know you’re not in trouble, and that you’re not gonna do anything stupid for my sake.”
He regarded her with soft eyes, then gave a small smile. “You don’t have to worry. I’m not going to do anything.”
Was that his decision, then? To stand by and let Morgana and Tauren do what they wished? It wasn’t as though it was his fault, he decided. After all, he was just a servant. It wasn’t his place to involve himself in the affairs of his betters. Arthur had told him as much himself.
He forced his smile wider to hide the guilt.
Jada studied his face, then finally nodded and stepped back, releasing his arm. “All right. I believe you.”
His smile was more genuine now as he reached for the door.
“Be careful,” she said.
Merlin responded, “I will.”
He wasn’t going to do anything, he told himself over and over again. He wasn’t going to do anything. And yet when he’d spotted Morgana sneaking out of the castle, he hadn’t been able to stop himself from following her out into the streets.
Merlin hid himself atop one of the battlements, looking down into the street as a darkened figured appeared to meet her.
“So, my lady, what news?” Tauren asked.
“Uther has fallen for the bait,” Morgana replied. “We ride out in the morning for the old cairn on the hill.”
“Are you sure you’re committed to this?”
Morgana’s voice darkened. “More than ever, I want Uther dead. As much as you, as much as anyone in this rotten kingdom of his.”
She spat the latter with such venom that Merlin was taken aback. He could understand the anger and bitterness towards Uther, of course—but what had any of the rest of them done to deserve such hatred?
“Then the deed is as good as done,” Tauren assured.
The two of them parted, and Morgana turned to head back towards the castle as Merlin ducked behind a pillar. As soon as he was sure they had all gone, he slid down the wall to sit on the floor.
They were going to kill Uther at the cairn. Morgana was really going to go through with it. Arthur would be heartbroken.
But Gwen would get her retribution, and Jada might be able to convince Nimueh to help her get home. The dragon would be pleased. Magic would be freed.
Gaius would be horrified.
But, in the long run, wouldn’t Camelot be better for it? Arthur could fulfil his destiny, unite the kingdoms, and create a land where everyone lived in peace and prosperity. Merlin could finally tell him who he really was.
Uther was all that stood between Camelot and the future they’d been promised. But did that make it right to kill him?
No, Merlin thought, shaking his head to himself. Not that. Not for a promise.
But for certainty. For certainty that the Great Purge would finally come to a complete end. For certainty that the slaughter would stop, that there would be no more needless killings. For the certainty that men and women and children could live in peace, that no more families would have to be torn apart, that he’d never have to witness another execution of an innocent person.
For the certainty of a better world.
He was going to do nothing.
He watched them ride out the following morning from the window in Arthur’s chambers. He wondered how Morgana could look the King in the eye, how she could smile at him like that, knowing what she was about to do.
Merlin didn’t think he’d have been quite so cheerful, no matter how justified he was.
How would they announce it, when the escort returned? Would Morgana ride back in, tears in her eyes, and tell them how Tauren had finally managed to murder Uther? No-one would have expected her to be able to stop it, of course. They all underestimated her. Even Merlin did—repeatedly—but he hoped that this experience would remain as a stark reminder to never do so again.
He wondered if she’d be able to look Arthur in the face.
“Merlin?”
He looked up to find Gwen behind him, apparently having slipped in through the open door.
“Gwen,” he greeted, his voice soft. “How are you doing?”
“I was about to ask you the same question,” she replied.
He felt his brows furrow in his confusion, but tried to cover it with a reassuring smile. “I’m fine.” He hoped she didn’t notice the way the smile fell as soon as he looked back out of the window. “Fine.”
Morgana and Uther were just disappearing through the gates to the courtyard, Uther’s final journey already underway.
Gwen must have followed his gaze. “Morgana’s been amazing these last few days,” she said.
“I think you’ve been amazing, after… after all that’s happened…” He couldn’t bring himself to look at her. “Getting your life back together.”
“It’s better than sitting in an empty house, waiting for my father to walk through the door.”
Merlin looked up at her now, but her gaze was somewhere far away. She turned away from him, taking a few steps from the window, but when she spoke again her voice was rough. “The thing that I find hardest to bear is that people will always think he was guilty because he tried to escape.”
Merlin pushed himself off the wall to stand behind her. “I know he was innocent.”
“I think he tried to escape because he knew that whatever he said or did, he’d be killed,” Gwen continued, her voice clearer now. “Uther had already made up his mind. That’s the kind of man he is.”
He nodded, a deep frown furrowing his brows. “I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted him dead.”
She was silent for a long moment, then turned to face him. “If Uther died, I’d feel nothing. He means nothing to me.”
So it was true, then. Even Gwen, the most kind-hearted person he’d ever met, wouldn’t mourn Uther.
“But if you had… you know… the choice,” he pressed, “What would you do?”
He could see the hesitation in her eyes; what he was speaking was treason, but Merlin needed her answer. He needed to know the decision he’d made was right. “If you had the power of life and death over Uther, would you kill him… for what he did?”
Gwen frowned, and though her silence was probably only a few seconds, to Merlin it felt an age. At long last, in a voice that was surprisingly firm, she replied, “No.”
Merlin felt his stomach drop. “No?”
“What would that solve?” she countered. “That would make me a murderer. That would make me as bad as him.”
He shook his head, wanting to deny her words but unable to stop them from burrowing into his consciousness. “You’re right,” he realised. He looked out the window again, but Morgana and Uther were already out of sight. “Of course you’re right,” he said, turning back to Gwen.
With no other plan, Merlin bolted for the door. He had to stop Morgana, before it was too late.
“Is anything wrong?!” Gwen called after him, clearly panicked.
“No, no,” Merlin lied, barely slowing enough to look back at her. “See you later!”
He raced along the corridors, down the stairs, and towards his and Gaius’ quarters with no thought for the confused faces he passed. Morgana and Uther were already ahead of him—and they were on horseback—so he didn’t have a single second to spare.
The door to his chambers nearly fell off its hinges as he burst through it, then dropped to his knees beside his dresser to shove a chest out of his way. Underneath it was a loose floorboard, which Merlin lifted and deposited swiftly at his side before pulling his magic book out of the hole.
If he was going to face Tauren with an instrument as powerful as the Mage Stone, Merlin was going to need all the help he could get. Gaius had said the stone was ancient, so he could only imagine what he might be up against should Tauren know how to use it properly.
If only he had some ancient tool of his own to equal the odds.
The realisation hit him only a moment later, and he looked to where the staff he’d stolen from Sophia lay wrapped in cloth under his bed. In the next instant, he’d stuffed the book back into its hole, re-covered the floorboard, and seized the staff, sprinting off through the castle once more.
His lungs were burning as he raced through the countryside, but he knew he couldn’t slow up yet. If the escort had walked to the cairn, there was a chance he could catch up to them, but if Morgana had urged them to go faster at any point, Merlin wasn’t sure he’d be able to make it in time. He had to keep running.
He found the horses tied up at the foot of the hill, but he was certain at least one guard should have been left to watch them. He could see none, so he clambered across the stream that ran down from the hill for a closer look.
The horses grew flighty as he approached, their eyes wide enough to show the whites, and as Merlin drew closer he spotted flashes of red cloth and silver mail in the grass. The guards lay on their backs unmoving, though whether they were dead or merely unconscious, Merlin didn’t have the time to wonder. The attack was already underway.
He turned to look up towards the cairn, still out of breath from his run, only to spot several of Tauren’s men sneaking their way up the hill just a few feet away. Adrenaline surged through him as he realised that they were right there, completely unaware of his arrival, and he clutched the staff tighter as he began to make his way after them.
The first he managed to catch by surprise, following him up the stream until he was close enough to strike. Merlin halted, raising his staff and pointing it at the man’s back. “Ackwele!” he commanded, and the lightning sprang forth, striking the man down. Merlin was relieved he didn’t explode like the Sidhe had.
He hadn’t realised the man wasn’t alone, but his companion simply looked around them in confusion for a moment. When he spotted Merlin he drew his sword, but Merlin’s staff was already raised towards him before he could take a step.
He flew a few feet backwards as the lightning struck him, then lay still.
Now Merlin pressed on, certain that neither of the two men had been Tauren. Defeating them meant nothing if he still didn’t make it to the cairn in time.
He picked his way through the steep incline, but it wasn’t until he happened to glance upwards that he noticed Tauren already watching him from higher up the bank. He raised his staff instinctively, but Tauren was already prepared for his attack. Merlin watched in horror as the Mage Stone absorbed his lightning, then reflected it back towards him. It struck him square in the chest, and the next thing he knew he was flat on his back staring up at the sky, every nerve in his body on fire.
He sucked in a breath, but that only seemed to feed the fire, and for a horrible moment all his brain could register through the fog was pain and up. He didn’t understand the urgency, but then he remembered Tauren looking down on him, and up began to win out in his mind over the screaming of his body.
He hauled himself to a sitting position, finding that he was now at the bottom of the slope he thought he remembered climbing, but there was no sign of Tauren anywhere. Had Merlin blacked out? He couldn’t have gotten away that quickly, surely. But then how long had he been out?
Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to his feet, before struggling to pull himself back up the hill. He had to find Uther, he reminded himself. He had to stop Morgana.
He slipped and landed on his belly, the grass he’d been pulling himself up by uprooting itself traitorously. His chest sent out a flash of pain as it hit the ground, a hiss escaping between his teeth, but he dug his fingers into the soil and hauled himself up again.
Had to find Uther. Had to stop Morgana. Had to… had to…
The ground evened out slightly once he’d dragged himself over the top of the slope, allowing his muscles some respite as he pressed on. He didn’t know what kind of threat he posed to Tauren like this, only that if he didn’t try, if he didn’t stop them, he would never be able to look Arthur in the face again. He had to stop them. He had to.
“No! No!”
That was Morgana’s voice. He might have been dazed, and the blood pounding in his ears may have distorted it slightly, but Merlin was sure of it. She must have been just over the next rise, just a little further…
He could hear the sounds of struggling now. Frustrated tears stung in his eyes as he pushed himself harder, despite the protests of his body. He needed to be faster.
The grunts and yells abruptly cut off.
No. No. He couldn’t be too late, couldn’t have failed. What about Arthur? What about Gaius, and everyone who’d ever expected anything of him? He couldn’t-
Merlin rounded the hill to see Morgana in Uther’s embrace, their cloaks intertwining as they billowed in the wind. On the ground at their feet lay Tauren.
He was- Uther was alive. He was alive, and Morgana was hugging him, and it had all happened without Merlin’s intervention. Uther was alive.
Merlin breathed the biggest sigh of relief, wanting to collapse onto the ground right then and there. But he’d never be able to explain what he was doing if they came back and found him, armed with a Sidhe staff no less, so he had to move off.
Moving slowly and gently, Merlin headed back to Camelot.
The pain in his limbs had mostly subsided by the time he reached the castle, though they were definitely feeling weak and shaky now. His chest was still tender, however, so after he’d returned the staff to its spot under his bed, he carefully lifted his tunic to examine it.
His skin was beginning to blister in the centre—presumably where the lightning had first made contact with him—but forking out from there were several jagged blue lines that zigzagged across the width of his chest. They faded away at the ends, but the stark contrast of them against his pale skin was impossible to ignore.
Fortunately, even the highest reaching fork was covered by his shirt, so hiding them wouldn’t be too much of a problem. He’d just make sure to keep his scarf on, for extra assurance.
He winced as he settled his tunic back into place, the fabric brushing the blisters slightly, before heading back to Arthur’s chambers.
