|
Please remember to add a rating as there are people of all ages that come to this site.
| Merlin Season | post series | Rating
(Refer to main page) | M | Characters in the story
| traditional: Arthur, Uther, Merlin, Gwen
introduced: Lady Sariah Le Guin, Percival | Pairings
(if needed) | references to Arthur/Gwen , Uther / OC | Word Count
| 5045 | Disclaimer / Warning:
(if needed) | Characters listed as traditional are property of BBC.
brief het sexual references
This is entirely a work of fiction and as such reserves the right to be historically inaccurate whilst flouting the accepted rules of science and reason. |
| | |
|
Lady Sariah Le Guin of Borthgard sat manacled in the most isolated dungeon, hands clasped, apparently staring out the tiny window. For the moment her cheeks were dry, her mind empty of thought. Grief at the death of her daughter and guilt over what may lay ahead for her knights from Borthgard continued to weigh on her heart.
The straw smelled awful and prickled through her modest dress yet she had managed to sleep on it uninterrupted for almost twentyfour hours. Only one person had spoken to her since her return to the home of the Pendragons. A castle maid had been comforting and friendly when she brought the prisoner's daily meal. Sariah had only been able to stare blankly at the beautiful young woman, unwilling to communicate lest the pain reduced her once again to a sobbing mess huddled on the wretched straw covered floor. She regretted that now, and hoped the maid would come back so she could at least thank her and ask her name.
Masculine tread sounded on the stairs, bringing the prisoner out of her reverie as the guards came to attention. They had expected trouble from such a notorious captive. All she had done thus far was sleep or stare at the thoughts within her head, so they sat around talking of hunting, sweethearts and hunting sweethearts. Crown Prince Arthur greeted the guards by name with a respectful nod. Each man smiled in return with obvious pride at being noticed in such an amiable fashion by Camelot's heir.
"As you know, my father is still indisposed after the incident at Borthgard. I need to interview Lady Le Guin on his behalf. Privately." His tone was that of Prince Regent and would not be disobeyed, even if the men did murmur about the presence of his manservant as they left. If the Lady were indeed a powerful witch he'd need more than a lackey to protect him.
Arthur and Merlin each brought a chair to the cell door.
"Lady Sariah."
The Lady curtsied with what deference she could manage with stiffened joints and was surprised to discover her voice still worked as she responded.
"Your Highness. Emrys."
Her separate curtsey to his servant was not lost on Arthur, nor the young man himself who smiled warmly despite feeling awkward at such recognition. The name puzzled Arthur too, but those riddles could wait for now. The gentlemen sat and made no comment when the lady did not. Arthur began by putting her mind at ease.
"The King and his subjects infected by the stardaughters were brought to Camelot in carts from Borthgard soon after your own departure and currently reside in the infirmary under the careful eye of the court physician, Gaius. Exhaustion appears to be the main result of their entanglement, with only a few suffering dehydration and hunger. Del's,' he stammered slightly over her daughter's name, 'Adelheid's courage in relating her experiences ensured the patients' needs were addressed before they made the journey. You will be notified as more detailed diagnoses become available."
"Thank you Lord Prince."
Arthur began to wave away her earnest gratitude until he saw it reflected in Merlin's expression. It appeared he would have to grow accustomed to people being proud of him. Not for the first time he wondered how his mother would look upon his actions, if such gentle praise might have been reinforced with a maternal hug. Or were such luxuries only for peasants? As always there were more important questions requiring his attention. He looked enquiringly at Merlin then turned a regally stern gaze at his prisoner.
"First question: Why do you and the stardaughters call this man Emrys? His name is Merlin."
"I have not heard that name, Sire. The name Emrys however has been whispered through the earth and on the wind for generations, long before magic was considered evil. I was as surprised as he was to hear them use his True name."
"How did you know they meant me?" For once Arthur did not berate Merlin for interrupting.
"Growing up by the Faerie Mound makes you sensitive to the Daoine Sidhe who visit there. I can hear and feel the flow of magic even though I cannot use it."
Her eyes widened in horror as she realised she had just revealed Merlin's secret. Arthur however was not surprised by this revelation.
"Nevertheless, your actions saved Borthgard, Camelot and by extension Albion. You took great risks, and payed expensively for your choices. I offer my thanks on behalf of my peo... my father's people.' Arthur had only been acting regent for three days, and while he bore the crown of authority comfortably he still appeared awkward as he turned his attention to Merlin. 'My own personal thanks are extended also to you...Emrys. Your own decisions put yourself in more danger than those you were willing to save. Probably not for the last time, certainly not the first."
Arthur placed a firm, comradely hand on Merlin's knee. This contact, more than those heartfelt words and using his secret name, convinced Merlin that Arthur understood exactly who and what his servant was and far from fleeing in panic would stand beside him whatever lay ahead; just as Merlin would do, had done for him. The warlock's grin made everything between them, not quite back to normal, but definitely more relaxed. Sariah dabbed at fresh tears with her sleeves.
"So like Ygraine!" she whispered to herself.
This was the third reason Arthur had demanded private audience; to learn more of his mother.
"Tell me about her."
His voice was filled with contradicting inflections: whispered, childish, hesitant; commanding, adult, yearning. Somehow Merlin and Sariah saw him as lost little boy, arrogant youth and compassionate man combined. Even if she had not been his captive, Sariah would never deny him this request. She spoke affectionately, honestly and the Prince hungrily leaned forward to devour it all.
* Arthur and Merlin's dungeon visits became routine. The Prince found someone else to muck out his stables and clean up after his, he admitted reluctantly, rather useless self. Arthur had Lady Le Guin's books on magic and letters from Ygraine Pendragon "confiscated" after learning of their existence and had them delivered directly into his own hands. Each day since their arrival Merlin would bring a book and Arthur a letter to study. The warlock usually read quietly, sitting slightly aside on the floor while the others read through the personal correspondence; Arthur craving explanation of some phrase or experience detailed therein. Gaius and Arthur had been made aware of each other's knowledge of Merlin's powers and conspired together to safely educate their mutual friend. Although from all others it must remain secret, Merlin had never felt so free or so accepted. Arthur often turned to him in childish glee to share something that particularly struck him and Merlin always comfortably grinned back. They had no secrets now, even joking about their former feelings for Morgana and current love interests. Some nasty gossip and quite a few jokes surfaced about the depth of their friendship, but their mutually unchecked laughter when confronted with these rumours proved just how ludicrous they were.
It had taken five days since returning to Camelot for Uther to regain enough strength to face his duties. It was not so much physical affliction that kept him to his bed, but moral and emotional torment. Some of the emotional strain had been relieved by the increasingly vibrant company of his son. The king had heard the servants' smutty murmurs and when he most seriously broached the subject of this notorious relationship, Arthur had given Uther a repeat performance of the confident manner in which he had publicly quashed the tales: at a banquet with the full court no less! Every evening was steadily bringing them closer as Arthur revealed more of his true self, causing Uther to do the same. Uther had not realised how much of his mother's nature lived on in his son, buried beneath his own. There had even been a rare tearful embrace as each apologised for being so, how had Arthur put it? So darned proper! Unfortunately the source of these changes only added to his ethical struggle.
Magic had been performed.
He passed Arthur on his way to the dungeons. The boy, man he corrected, was sans servant for a change.
"Don't tell me he's actually doing some work!" Uther quipped, bringing forth his son's rich laugh. The king berated himself once again for wasting a quarter of a century being a stranger to his greatest blessing.
Arthur knew what Uther was about and did not challenge his authority. Gone were the youthful tantrums that had threatened to persist into old age. He had proven himself most capable as regent and his father had rewarded him by sharing his regal burdens. He had had to accept that his son was a fully grown man - how old that made Uther feel! Arthur's mature perspective and continued assurance that both himself and Sariah understood that the law must be upheld proved it beyond doubt.
He felt even older as he approached the prisoner. Arthur's visits obviously brought the Lady pleasure yet not enough to lessen her grief. His own heart felt heavy as he greeted her. Her response was as always respectful. Uther replaced the chair Arthur had so recently vacated.
"No need to stand with me Lady Sariah. I've been sitting and laying down long enough. I need to walk just as much as we need to talk."
Sariah sat on clean straw, legs tucked aside beneath her humble skirt, hands clasped modestly in her lap.
"Such a demure pose for a hardened warrior!"
His unexpectedly light observation brought a small smile to her lips, but not close enough to her eyes. Uther assumed his most ponderous stance: feet shoulders' breadth apart, hands clasped behind back as they unconsciously flicked his cloak of office, head slightly angled downward and to the side, eyes focused on his audience.
"I am not here to condemn today. Merely converse. You place me at a crossroads Sariah, and I do not like either path available to me. One leads me to put you to death for sorcery, the other to reward you for saving my self and my people. One may cost me my authority but the first may cost me my son, a price I am unwilling to pay."
"I understand my King and am willing to accept the consequences for my actions."
"I know you did not encourage my knights' insubordination, that they independently acted to preserve all that is dear to us. These men shall receive no punishment. They after all, did not use magic. Is that how you know about ...Arthur...Ygraine, through magical means?" He fumbled the question, hating that it needed to be asked and dreading her answer.
"No, Your Majesty. Banning the performance of magic may be likened to barring access to a river - you may not dip into it, but the current flows by regardless. The elements continually speak of the doings of mortal and immortal alike, and when something momentous occurs the stones resonate in song.' her voice was reverent, bordering on zealous. Her connection to this phenomenon was almost palpable. 'Arthur's birth was one of those times. We who live near the Mounds can't help but hear, no matter what song the stones sing. Nothing is ever truly secret."
Uther was thrown off by her answer. Such a simple simile to explain why his struggle against magic continued to fail. He changed the topic to mask his discomfort.
"What do you discuss with my son?"
"He has told you."
"I want to hear it from you."
"He talks about you, his past with Adelheid, the choices he makes, how I beat him in the tourney - now there's a sore point! I get the feeling there's a favourite girl he wants to talk about but he never quite gets there. I talk about Adelheid, the choices they made, how to improve his fighting technique, you and mostly his mother. Satisfied?"
"He didn't mention myself, Adelheid or this other girl but the rest he told me of. He also says you're willing to die."
"Why should I live?"
The answer struck Uther but he could not voice it: For Arthur. Sariah had introduced him to the mother he never knew. She knew Ygarine as only another woman could. Executing Sariah would be like killing her again. His spoken reply ignored these revelations but was nonetheless heartfelt.
"You have my deepest condolences Lady Sariah. Whilst prepared to sacrifice yourself to this deed, you strove to prevent other casualties. The loss of Lady Adelheid Le Guin is felt by many, not least by myself. I am aware that had Arthur's romance been allowed to continue, under stricter supervision of course, she may also have been my daughter at this time. Sir Iain and I intervened on behalf of Adelheid's honour as well as my son's. As the young couple did not persist, I harbour no regret."
This last was not entirely true, although it had been until he overheard part of a conversation between Arthur and his clown of a servant. The daimone had then drawn Uther's attention away by using the king's body to snuggle against the scrawny lad's back. He closed his eyes and shuddered mentally at the memory which still caused him to wake up retching. Horrible, horrible.
"Despite the methods employed you did release me from that' Uther's face twisted in distaste, '...thing, and you have my eternal gratitude. As with the last time we met, you have given me much to think about. As before, I cannot thank you for it.' He turned to leave, stopped and looked at her side on, hands still folded behind his back beneath the cloak. 'I will however thank you for bringing Ygraine back through her son, to her son."
Sariah curtsied deeply and he felt the emotion in her reply.
"My pleasure Your Majesty."
** In the morning the lovely dark-skinned maidservant brought breakfast, water to wash and clean clothing - all black to signify a Lady in mourning. They were left alone as Gwen told the guards she acted on Prince Arthur's orders. Sariah called her bluff after the knights disappeared upstairs.
"Well, no, he didn't but men never consider hygiene a priority for some reason."
Gwen passed on city gossip as Sariah bathed, giggling at the inferred romance between Prince and servant. Sariah balked at Gwen helping her dress, but the young woman was persistent. Gwen waited until Sariah had eaten then dashed off to her regular duties, sending the guards down with a cheerful smile.
*** "Stubborn." was Arthur's reply when Sariah mentioned Gwen's attentions during his regular afternoon visit.
There was, however a fire in his eye that led her to gently murmur ahh. Merlin grinned and Arthur looked away causing Sariah to exclaim "Aahh!" in a teasing tone. Arthur blushed furiously.
"Oh shut up!" he snapped. They just laughed at him until he confessed his affection for the dark-eyed beauty, then they meanly refused to mention her for the rest of the day.
** Uther came after dining with Arthur in the evening, also banishing the knights on duty upstairs. He and his prisoner would discuss their mutual past, his late wife Ygraine, her late husband Hector, Arthur, training regimes - everything except sorcery and Sariah's imprisonment.
Sariah soon became the most visited, least guarded prisoner in Albion's history as this routine carried on for a month. One evening she suddenly asked the only question never addressed.
"Uther, why am I still alive?" her gaze expressed nothing. Uther received no clue to her thoughts.
"You wish to be a martyr?' the Lady shook her head in the negative, 'then why do you ask?"
"Every time you come down those stairs I prepare myself to face death. Every day spent with your son makes that harder to do."
"You have developed feelings for Arthur?"
"No, not that sort. I have developed a love of life. I am no longer ready to die."
"You will not die - at least not by my order. Nor can you remain down here,' Uther shifted uncomfortably on his cushioned chair. 'Has Arthur mentioned his ideas on the subject?"
"No-o-o." the Lady replied warily. The Prince had possessed a streak of nasty humour as a boy and there was evidence suggesting he had not entirely put it aside. Uther had thought the same thing when Arthur introduced the idea some days ago, but his son had persisted in all seriousness. He couldn't help but chuckle at her reaction.
"I understand your trepidation, believe me. But Arthur is adamant that he has found an appropriate course of action." Darn that boy, he could have done this himself, or at least made it easier.
"Does it involve the stocks?" Uther's laughter answered in negative. From the jovial chatter of Camelot's young people, Sariah concluded Arthur had a strange obsession with the stocks.
"No, but you may wish it did,' Uther thought about what he was going to say next and flushed, squirming awkwardly on his seat. He had also heard some of those jocular remarks. 'Um, forget I said that...definitely NO stocks."
As the King laid out his son's plan Sariah understood and then shared his discomfort. The situation of her interment must pose dire consequences for Uther to even consider such an idea! Or for Arthur to propose it. That was the key word: propose.
"So he has given us the choice of your bed, or my head?"
"Not my bed exactly. It would be a travesty to the sanctity of marriage and the love we harbour for our departed spouses, not to mention...'
"...the fact I do not find you remotely attractive." Uther and Sariah completed the phrase in unison.
"Political marriage only?" Sariah wanted to be sure of the exact terms of her sentence.
"Definitely. A warrior Queen in these troubled times would give new hope to Camelot."
"Especially an expendable warrior queen.' Sariah thought for a moment, she liked the way that sounded actually. 'As Warrior Queen, will I outrank Arthur on the battlefield? Put myself at risk at the thick of things while Camelot's smarmy oh-too-clever heir stays safe at home?"
"Yes." Uther replied with growing concern until Sariah threw back her head and laughed joyously. The smile on her face when the mirth wound down was wickedly triumphant.
"I can't wait to tell him!"
**
Arthur's dreams had been a turmoil of nightmare, memory and anticipation since the incident at Borthgard. That was how he referred to it, never as Adelheid's death or Merlin's revelation. The first few weeks had focused on nightmare, always the same: Del climbing up the silver draped cage as adeptly as a squirrel, surrounded by a nimbus of energy linking her to a horrified Merlin; as he tried to break this connection lightning coursed through her and she ignited, somehow becoming both herself and Merlin bound at the stake as flames tore up to ravish him/her/them; Arthur tried to hurl himself into the conflagration to pull them free but his father forcibly held him back with this admonition "It's for your own good children."
Those were the words spoken with Royal authority that had ended the Pendragon/Le Guin romance. "It's for your own good children." Sir Iain and Uther had sat before Arthur and Adelheid. The young couple were too scared to even hold hands, these two who only minutes earlier had sworn to each other they would not be parted by anything. They were obedient, noble children however and readily believed the platitudes King and Knight drilled into them; marrying early to a partner of your choice was a luxury for peasantry, duty and protocol outweighing love and attraction in royal unions.
If they had been less obedient would these nightly visions be any different? Would Del have been as willing to die if she was his wife? These questions continued to haunt him during the day, long after the night terrors had been replaced by no less disturbing dreams.
They started in memory, different innocuous memories each night which unerringly lead to the same place: Del's determined eyes as she grasped his tousled hair and pulled him into the kiss that would lead to their ruin. He knew that look, craved it. If he crossed her now and didn't give her exactly what she wanted there would be hell to pay. He saw again his face reflected in her eyes, wearing the same expression. They were of one mind and would soon become one body. They had both grown up surrounded by loose-tongued knights and their sometimes bawdy stories of romance, so expected there to be some discomfort if not pain during this, their first time, but Del was irresistibly adamant. He would not deny her - eternal hell seemed a small price to pay for this brief time in heaven together! As the remembrance of her startled gasp aroused more than the dream-Arthur's concern his eyes caught hers, telling her he would stop if need be. Del's lust husky voice whispered "Don't you dare!" as she again kissed him hungrily. Then she would gradually phase into Gwen. He was no longer an adolescent but he still had to master restraint. Duty and protocol labelled even this second chance at happiness as forbidden fruit.
He awoke from this dream in an agony of physical and emotional torment. If Uther had since arranged a suitable marriage for his son, Arthur would have been spared this indignity at least. Arthur crossed to his wash stand with difficulty and tipped the cooling water into his lap to extinguish the desire blazing there. Once he was rational again he bellowed out for his servant.
"Merlin!" but Merlin was not his servant anymore, thanks to Arthur he now had more important duties in the King's schola. His much younger replacement appeared instantly.
"Yes Sire?"
"The darn basin toppled. Fetch me fresh, hot water and dry clothes."
"Yes Sire."
Merlin had been a rather gormless servant, but Arthur missed the repartee. Stripping down he ran through how that exchange would have gone if Merlin had come running, well, more like plodding when he'd called.
"Merlin! Mer-lin! MERLIN!"
Enter Merlin: plod, plod, plod "What now?"
"That darn basin sloshed all over me."
"Again?" smirk.
"Fetch my clothes and bring some more water up here. Hot this time."
"Good thing I filled it with cold first, you know just in case you spilled it again.' smirk ''That's the third time this week isn't it? And you reckon I'm clumsy!"
"Merlin?' pause to throw boot at his goofy head as he turns back 'Shut up."
The new boy, Percival was back already. How old was he? Fourteen? No way the Prince could have that kind of friendship with this servant, no matter how efficient the boy was.
"The King and Queen are sitting to breakfast Sire, and insist that you join them. Will you require anything else my Lord?"
"Clean those wet things, mop the floor, muck out my stables, urm and you know, general tidy up of my rooms - preferably before the stables. Your father will be released from the stocks at midday I believe. You and your brother may take him some lunch before reporting back to me. His gambling debts were extensive and I'm afraid I require your services for a while longer until they are repaid."
"Yes Sire."
Arthur made his way to the King's chambers, following the sound of raised voices as his father and stepmother argued over breakfast. He wondered what the problem was now. Last week it had been the uniforms of Camelot's knights:
"I'm sure the style had significance once and while very pretty they're too long to be practical." Sariah stated.
"Pretty?" Uther repeated. The conversation deteriorated rapidly and Arthur had found it's degeneration hilarious.
The topic up for discussion during the first "family" meal immediately after Sariah's release from the dungeon had been which rooms she would inhabit once they were married:
"I am not using Ygraine's suite."
"Well you are certainly not moving into mine!"
"Hah! We agree there at least. What has happened to Morgana's rooms?"
"Nothing, but,"
"She's not coming back is she?"
"Not with her head on." Arthur had muttered into his goblet, causing Merlin to snort ridiculously then affect that overly serious aspect he wore after being a complete clot-pole.
"They're hardly fit for a Queen, Sariah."
"They'll do for a token queen. Ygraine's rooms should be left for Arthur's wife to use when he becomes king."
"He doesn't have a wife. Unless you are hatching another cunning plan?" Uther turned to Arthur.
"No, not today." Arthur had pulled an unusual frowning fish face causing Merlin to snort again, drawing Uther's attention.
"You have something to contribute?" Again Merlin donned that nonsensically solemn expression.
"No Sire."
"I think Morgana's rooms will suit perfectly, and that lovely maidservant who tended to my needs in the dungeon - what was her name again Arthur?"
"Guinevere, ah, Gwen." Arthur had the feeling Sariah was privately laughing at him.
"That's right! I would like the delightful Gwen as my personal attendant."
"Would this be the same Gwen who attended Morgana?"
"I believe so." Arthur somehow managed to keep his voice disinterested and Merlin masked his chortle with a cough.
"So she already knows the ways of your court then Uther? How serendipitous!"
"Beg yours?" Arthur asked.
"Destined to be." Merlin explained.
Today's argument appeared to be related to this earlier one as he heard Gwen's name mentioned before he entered the room. He decided to pretend ignorance for now and then jump into the fray should an opportunity arise.
"Good morning Father, dear Ma'ma." Sariah touched his cheek affectionately as he gave her a sonly kiss. He had thought up this nickname for her once he had cajoled Uther into marrying her.
"You're going to take her side. I see how it is! My own son conspiring against me!" there was affectionate humour behind this serious and somewhat flustered observation.
"I only take her side when she's right. Are you right dear Ma'ma?"
"She thinks so. As always."
Arthur thought to himself which makes her different from you, how exactly? "Shall I mediate? I promise to hear both sides before venturing an opinion." He grabbed a piece of toast and munched on a properly crunchy corner. He certainly didn't miss the soggy masses Merlin used to serve up. How can you mess up toast?? He didn't even have to cook it, just carry it up the stairs. Arthur lost all interest in toast after he suddenly developed the suspicion that Merlin may have spat on it in the past. Hmm, perhaps some fruit instead.
"Pre-eminent husband first." Sariah indicated. Arthur saw disturbingly familiar facets to her expression which reminded him of Adelheid and knew his father had already lost this argument, the King just didn't know it yet.
"She wants her maid to be her Lady-in-Waiting."
"Guinevere's not nobility." Arthur stated the obvious, gesturing to Sariah with a fuzzy peach. Maybe Uther would win this one. Sariah's glare sharpened. Perhaps not.
"Your stepmother thinks she should be."
"Why?" Arthur was not incredulous because he thought it was a stupid idea as his father supposed, but because if Sariah succeeded then all opposition to Arthur's goal of marrying Gwen disappeared. Uther had been right, as of this moment his son conspired against him.
"Noble birth does not guarantee a noble life. Arthur has a man in the stocks,'
This phrase still caused Uther some pain as it had been the punchline of a lewd joke originating with the misinterpretation of the relationship between Crown Prince and his former manservant. It didn't help that Sariah favoured this particular jape and often used the phrase in Arthur's hearing, complete with naughty inflection. Uther had soon discovered his son's sense of humour to be as depraved as his wife's since Arthur always tittered right along with her. Some days he wished for the more distant parent-child relationship of the past.
"Yes I have."
More tittering. Uther wished the daimone was still in his head. He shuddered as he remembered her obsession with Merlin's back and rapidly changed his mind.
"A nobly born Knight of Camelot, arrested for excessive gambling and wenching. His debts were so large that Arthur bought them out and put his sons to work in the palace. There is a large sum still owing I believe."
Arthur nodded as he finished the peach and reached for some cheese.
"His eldest Percival is an excellent valet. I'm considering hiring him permanently once the debt is cleared."
"I remember, this began before the notorious tourney that made this family the marvel it is today.' Uther's tone indicated he was not entirely impressed with the arrangement. 'He's due for release today is he not?"
"Yes, and I've warned him that if he even goes near a house of ill repute, it's off to the dungeon with him, and Beggar's Lane for his boys." Arthur expounded.
"Case in point: a noble birth but hardly a respectable life. Now my Guinevere: humble birth, a servant yet, honest, dedicated. Gwen has even been wrongly accused of using sorcery to poison Camelot's water supply; you had her innocent father killed, yet she still serves Camelot loyally, without question and at times at great personal risk. I dare you to find one knight or retainer who does not respect this woman, or who would honourably begrudge her advancement."
There was silence. Uther looked from his wife to his son. Arthur's expression was even more exultant than Sariah's. He was sure the boy had lured him into another trap. He sometimes felt like he was the newcomer to the family rather than his wife.
"Very well. I shall put her name forward at court." he flapped his napkin down onto the table and left the room muttering about conspiracies, ingratitude and the apparent attractions of a hermit's existence.
Sariah winked cheekily at Arthur who beamed triumphantly back and wondered how soon he could propose.
| | | | | |
Share this
