Chapter Text
“What have you done?” Heartbreak laced Arthur’s voice.
What had he done? Merlin stared down at the king, at his still chest and pale skin. He had done everything right. Maybe he was terrible at healing magic, but he was sure he had used the correct spell.
“This was not supposed to happen.” Merlin made the mistake of looking up at Arthur.
His eyes were wide and filled red with tears. Pain. Heartache. Betrayal. Hatred. All swirling through him. “You gave me your word.”
Now tears were pressing against Merlin’s eyes. He hadn’t meant to break his promise. It should have worked. Why hadn’t his magic worked!
“You…you have killed him.” Pure rage erupted from Arthur.
Merlin tried to form the word no, but now even his voice betrayed him because Arthur was right. He had killed him. His magic had caused Uther’s death. He had failed Arthur, their destiny.
“You killed him!” Arthur was rounding the bed. His sword already drawn. “You’ll die for what you have done.”
For a moment, his magic forced time to slow. Instinct had Merlin summoning a spell to defend himself. He imagined running through the castle. Escaping until he could find somewhere safe to transform back into himself. But even if he got away, eventually he would have to face what he had done. He would have to face Arthur. The thought of facing Arthur again after what he had done was unacceptable.
For years he had naively believed that one day Arthur would see his magic as a force of good. He had hoped to show that magic wasn’t the evil Uther claimed it to be. Now he saw that it was he who had been wrong. Merlin had killed. He had destroyed lives. Hurt others all in some noble attempt to save magic. Worst of all, he had hurt Arthur with his lies and mistakes. What good had he truly ever done?
Merlin watched the sword slowly barreling towards him and lowered his hand.
He was a monster. The same as every beast Arthur had slain. No amount of good intension could change his sins. This was his true destiny. The only punishment fit for his crimes.
With a deep breath, Merlin closed his eyes and released time. He waited for death with a whisper in his heart. I am so sorry, Arthur. Only the sword never touched him.
Arthur couldn’t control his shaking limbs. Nor could he quiet the raging thoughts in his head. He had trusted Dragoon to heal his father. He had trusted magic to belay his grief. Now it had betrayed him like everyone else.
Anger had forced him to draw his sword and swing at his enemy. Then he had seen something in the man’s eyes. It was there only a moment and yet Arthur could have spent a lifetime trying to decipher it’s meaning.
He looked almost more grieved than Arthur. The wiry spark was gone replaced by submission and acceptance of his fate. Still there was more, so much more.
Arthur’s arm froze a breath away from beheading the wizard.
No matter how hard he tried to force himself to finish, to avenge his father, something screamed in his mind that this was wrong. It was all wrong. Vengeance would not sooth his grief. But maybe justice would.
Arthur lowered his sword.
At the sound of metal hitting the floor, the wizard opened his eyes in shock. He appeared confused why he was still alive. Then just as suddenly frantic. “Well, what are you waiting for? Kill me.”
“What?” So, he’d been right. The wizard wanted to die.
“I killed your father. The man you love. You have to right this wrong, so kill me.” The old man begged.
Arthur looked down at his sword and realized he didn’t have the strength to lift it even if he wanted to. “No. Not like this.” Trying to set aside his overwhelming grief and anger he forced the wizard with as much nobility as he could. “Unlike you, I am no murder. You will be tried and punished for your crimes.”
The wizard shook his head. “There is no need for a trail. I am guilty of killing the king. Kill me and end this.”
A thought crossed his mind, and Arthur narrowed his eyes. “Was this your plan all along?”
“What?”
“To betray my trust and kill my father so I would murder you?” At least that answer made a sick sort of sense. “If death is your wish, I shall not be your weapon.”
“Please,” the old man sunk to his knees. “I will submit to your will for my crimes, but please…” he choked, “please don’t burn me. Don’t drag this out, kill me now before I hurt anyone else.”
It was the sincerity of his request that surprised him. He had never had any criminal beg for death before. Arthur didn’t know what to do. He was King. This man was a sorcerer. He had killed his father. He had confessed. He wanted to die. Protocol was clear and yet his heart screamed against this. How was he supposed to know what to do?
There was a small voice in the back of his head, Merlin’s voice, “trust your instincts Arthur, so long as you follow your heart you will be a great king.”
“I will consider your request. But I will not kill a man without a trial. The people deserve to know what has happened here, to see the murderer of their king. You will be taken to the dungeons and on the morrow, you will be judged.”
Resigned the old man nodded as Arthur called for the guards. Before he left the old man turned with teared filled eyes. “I know you will never believe me, but I am truly sorry, Arthur. I seek no forgiveness, but I hope one day you will find peace.”
Arthur stared after him, unable to comprehend all that had happened. He forced himself to turn away and look to his father. His father who had died, who had given his life for his son, who had yet to grieve. Hot tears rolled down his cheeks, but behind them a knock on the door forced him to hold him back.
He was more than regent now. With his father’s death all would be turning to him. Yet, he couldn’t seem to force his body to move.
The person at the door waited only a few moments before entering without an invitation. Arthur recognized Gaius’s warm hand immediately at his shoulder. “Sire? Can you hear me?”
“He’s gone.” Arthur said quietly.
Gaius looked at the bed and signed. “I know, Arthur. Magic can do many things, but even magic cannot change what must be. I am sorry that the sorcerer was unable to heal your father.”
At the mention of the sorcerer, Arthur’s gaze turned hot. “He did not fail. He killed him! I promised him a world where magic would be free if he only healed my father, but he could not set aside his hatred to heal an old man.” He had meant the words to be biting, yet they shook on his tongue.
Gaius seemed to stagger away from him. “That doesn’t make any sense. He would not…he would never…” Suddenly he was back in Arthur’s face. “Sire, where is the sorcerer? What have you done with him?”
“I had him sent to the dungeon to be tried for his crimes.” Arthur explained, puzzled as to why the physician was so interested.
That answer seemed to relax him. “Sire, may I have your permission to examine the late king?”
“Why? We know what killed him.” Arthur demanded.
“Perhaps, but it is my duty as court physician to officially declare the cause of death for the trial.”
There was no reason to deny him his own duty. Yet, Arthur suspected that there was more to his request that he was saying. “Yes, of course.”
Arthur watched as Gaius approached his father. He looked over his body as Arthur expected, but it was almost as if he were also checking around the bed.
“What are you looking for?” Arthur demanded after his frantic motions failed to hide his intension.
“I am not sure, but…” his voice trailed off as he stared at the king’s chest. He reached out and lifted a pendant around his father’s neck. “Arthur, where did this come from?”
He had never seen his father wear anything like it before. He hadn’t even noticed it until now, but he was certain his father hadn’t been wearing it that morning. “I don’t know.”
Gaius unclasped the necklace and brought it closer to the candlelight. He examined it before turning to Arthur with heavy eyes. “The sorcerer did not kill your father.”
That had been the last thing he expected Gaius to say. “What are you talking about? I was there, Gaius. I saw him cast a spell and my father died. He confessed. I don’t believe it gets more straightforward than that.”
“Confessed?” He thought he heard Gaius mumble ‘foolish boy’ before he thrust the necklace into Arthur’s face. “This necklace is enchanted to reverse any spell cast on the wearer.”
“Reverse? What are you saying?”
“The sorcerer was trying to heal your father. He used a healing spell, but this necklace twisted the magic into a spell of death. It may have been the sorcerers magic, but it was the one who placed this necklace on your father who is the real cause of his death.”
None of this was making any sense. “Maybe someone had intended to reverse any healing magic cast on him. But the sorcerer admitted he was the one who killed Uther. He must have been trying to kill him for his own purposes.”
“This is a reversal of any magic. If he had tried to kill your father, it would have healed him. The king’s death means that he intended to fulfill his promise to heal your father. It is doubtful the sorcerer even knows how his spell went wrong in the first place. The fool may believe something went wrong and blame himself for someone else’s crime.”
Then the sorcerer wasn’t guilty? If he was innocent, why hadn’t he said anything. Then Arthur remembered what the sorcerer had said the moment he realized his father was dead. “This was not supposed to happen.” Arthur had been so enraged he hadn’t listened before.
If the sorcerer was truly innocent, then his father’s true murder was out there somewhere. It had to be someone able to get close enough to the king to plant the necklace. There were few who had been allowed into the room.
Gaius of course, but he would have no reason to reveal the necklace’s true purpose if he had been the one to place it.
Gwen had been tending to his father. She had had her difficulties with Uther many times before, but she would never do such a thing. Their relationship may not have been what they both once thought it might become, but there was no way she would hurt Arthur or Camelot.
Then there was Merlin, but Merlin had only ever been there with him. Not that Merlin would be capable of killing anyone, even Uther.
That only left one person. Agravaine. More than anything Arthur didn’t want to believe his uncle could be capable of such a thing. But he was the most likely culprit from the small list.
If he had been the one to place the necklace on his father, Arthur would make sure he paid family or not. Although it would take a great amount of evidence to prove his betrayal. Evidence that would start with finding what had truly happened with the sorcerer.
“Gaius, would you please take care of the arrangements for my father. I am going to the dungeon to speak with the sorcerer.”
“Yes, your majesty.” Gaius said.
Arthur hurried to the dungeon. The news of the king’s death had yet to spread through the castle. He ignored anyone who tried to stop him to ask how the king faired. There would be time to deal with the masses later. Now, he needed to know the truth, all of it, and he intended to find out.
The guard at the dungeon’s entrance startled at the sight of Arthur. “Sire, how can I assist you?”
“I wish to speak to the sorcerer who was brought down here.”
The guard lifted a brow at that. “But, there is no sorcerer here.”
“Of course, I must have sent him to the other dungeon. Two guards escorted him here less than an hour ago. A rude old man with a long white beard, he’s very memorable.”
“Sire, no one fitting that description has been brought here. No one has entered the dungeons since this evening’s meals were brought.”
Then where the hell was the sorcerer.
Merlin allowed himself to be dragged along the corridors. His mind was adrift trying to let himself be lulled by the blur of shadows that they passed. He didn’t want to think anymore. If he let his mind settle on even a single thought, he would have to face his guilt.
The guilt of never being enough, of failing everyone he loved, of becoming a monster.
Despite the blur of everything around him, Merlin knew the castle well enough to realize they weren’t heading for the dungeon. The guards had taken him down one of the servant’s passageways that led outside the castle.
“Where—” Merlin began to ask before the guard slapped his face.
“Silence!” It was only now that Merlin truly looked at the guards that held him. He had spent enough time with Arthur on the training fields that he recognized every guard. Neither of these men were from Camelot.
On any other day, that would have been enough incentive for Merlin to fight back. But his heart couldn’t raise up the will to even struggle. They had locked him in iron so there was no way he could overpower them. He was lucky his transformation spell had held against the searing pain of having his magic bound.
These men were not taking him to the dungeon. It wasn’t difficult to guess their intent based off the murderous glares they shot him. Merlin allowed himself to sag further into their grip.
Destiny had fucked him up before. It had dangled a hope that he could mean something, that he could do something good. Then it had ripped it all away to prove once and for all he was the same useless, worthless, evil monster the world had labeled him as.
If this was to be his end, who was he to deny destiny.
They dragged him beyond the castle walls far out into the dark woods. It was where he had seen Agravaine sneak off to a dozen times before. The men finally stopped throwing him on the ground. Merlin didn’t move, nor turn to look at them.
“Man, when he said he needed someone to take care of a sorcerer, I thought this would be at least a little more fun. Don’t understand why he’s scared of this old man.” One said.
“Doesn’t matter. Point is we get paid to get rid of him however we wish. No one is going to come looking for him until morning so we can take as much time as we please.” The other added.
Maybe in a way this was a kindness from the universe. At least he wouldn’t have to face Arthur tomorrow for the trail. At least he wouldn’t burn.
Merlin closed his eyes and prayed they finished him off quickly.