Of Friends and Destiny

“Arthur.” A pause, waiting, and Merlin sighed softly when he realised getting the attention of his younger friend would not be so easy. Bunching his cloak closer around him to ward off the chill of the evening, he left the warmth of the tent and made his way to the still figure of Arthur. He frowned thoughtfully at the far away expression on the younger mans face, before deciding not to question him; instead he took a seat beside him and followed the blank gaze out across the rolling hills and rivers, knowing that Arthur’s vision was turned inwards and he was not seeing the beauty the evening sun wrought on the land.

It did not take long for the cold to seep through the thick cloak and into Merlin’s skin; the others jested about his fragile resistance to the elements, but none of them could ever truly understand just what he had given up for his power, once upon a time such coldness would not have bothered him. He shivered a little, but made no move to leave his place by Arthur’s side.

“You should go back inside.” Arthur’s voice cut the quiet around them, an authority in his tone that bespoke of the king he was destined to be.

“As should you.” Merlin rebuked.

Arthur turned his head, gaze focusing completely on Merlin, considering him, studying him. Merlin did not know what he was seeking, but he did know what crossed his mind as he looked. Merlin was different from how he once been; he had changed from the boy Arthur had grown up with, and though months had passed from the change Arthur still had not become completely comfortable with his appearance.

Finally Arthur sighed and turned away. “Why did you do it?” he asked, and Merlin knew what he was asking. He was silent as he considered his words, remembering back to that time.

~*~

“You are weak little wizard.” She whispered, but the sound was clear as a bell in Merlin’s ears, and he felt the shame of it weakening him. Behind him he could hear Arthur calling for him, with such desperation, such fear, that he could not stand it. He closed his eyes, dropping his head into a nod, accepting her words.

Her hand brushed against his cheek, a soothing touch, like a lovers. “I can give you the power you need child. I can give you the power to protect him.” Her lips were close to his ear now, and he made no move to pull away. Though he did not respond he knew she could feel the way his heart leapt at the thought. He opened his eyes as she pulled back, the sounds of Arthur fading away as she smiled at him.

“Do you wish me to give you this power?” she asked him.

His mind flashed for an instant to the past, to all the times when his magic had not been enough. Yes, he needed this power.

“The Sacrifice is great.” She told him, her eyes looking past him and to the bars that held Arthur. Merlin opened his mouth, eyes widening, but no sound was uttered as her finger came to rest on his lips. “Not him.” She leaned closer, her breath brushing his cheek, to stare into his eyes. “You. Your body shall become weaker, more fragile, more easily broken. But in return your mind shall be sharper, your magic stronger, and your power limitless.”

There was no hesitation. For Arthur. He nodded once.

She smiled at him, a smile that should have put him off this plan of action, should have made him back off, go back to Arthur and continue on as they had before. But he knew, had always known, that he needed to reach untapped levels of his magic to protect Arthur, to ensure he became king, and he could not reach it alone.

Arthur’s yells were becoming louder, and yet Merlin could not hear a word of them. He was startled by the press of lips against his own, but the startlement faded quickly and his eyes drifted shut. All sound ceased save for the rushing of blood in his ears, and a surge that seemed to spread out from some unnamed part of himself. His skin burned, and he gasped, his eyes opening, only to find nothing there.

His body felt so weak, like he had not eaten in days, his arms shook uncontrollably as he struggled to push himself up from the floor, confused as to how he had gotten there. His whole concentration was focused on getting upright, that until he was on his knee’s, panting with the effort, he did not notice Arthur calling to him, worry clear in his voice. His turned his head in the direction of the voice, blinking until he could make out Arthurs figure, kneeling in the cell, fingers white as they clutched the bars, as if by strength alone he could rip them from the ground.

“Arthur?” he asked.

Though his grip on the bars never eased, a look of relief flashed across Arthur’s face. “Merlin! Are you all right?” he demanded to know, his fingers tightened on the bars, and Merlin knew he wished to be out of there immediately. Without truly meaning to Merlin felt his magic surge in response to Arthurs wish, and the bars disappeared. Arthur was staggered, and actually pulled back further into the cell in response, and Merlin wondered if perhaps his need to protect Arthur would drive his friend from him.

But before this worry could fully take root Arthur surged forward, kneeling beside him, his hands hovering just out of touching distance, his face twisted into an expression of concern. Merlin did not know what he looked like, only that he felt as weak as a newborn kitten in body, but his mind was strong.

“Arthur.” He began.

Arthur moved suddenly, slipping his hands around Merlin’s shoulders, and with little effort he brought them both to a standing position. He did not look at Merlin; instead his eyes searched the room for his sword. Merlin did not speak, finding the act impossible with how tired he suddenly was, he allowed Arthur to move him where he would. Finally Arthur made his way towards the exit to the room. “Come on Merlin, let’s get you somewhere safe.”

Merlin looked at him, and saw by the determined and angry set to his jaw, that Arthur would be having words with him once they were both safe and rested. Merlin understood, his friend believed he should not have allowed what had happened to occur, but he also knew that even knowing that this would be the result, he would still make the same choice.

For Arthur.

~*~

“Why Merlin?” Arthur asked again, alerting Merlin that his silence had lasted too long, and that he had caused some concern once again.

He smiled at Arthur, who was looking at him once more, frowning. “Because I had to.” He replied softly. Drawing the cloak tighter around him, in a vain effort to keep some warmth inside. He had quickly grown used to being thinner, frailer, knowing there was no point in dwelling on what he had lost. Better to think on what he had gained.

“You had to?” Arthur asked.

Merlin nodded, meeting his friend’s confused gaze squarely. “For you.”

“Me?” Arthur looked away, his tone bitter. “You did this for me? To what end Merlin? You gave up part of yourself that you did not have to. I would never have asked you to give anything up for me. Never.”

Merlin couldn’t help the small laugh that left him; it was just like Arthur, to believe that he had some control over the outcome of everything. “Arthur, you never have to ask anything of me. It was my choice, and one that had to be made. The end result is all that matters.”

Arthur made a sound close to a snort of disbelief. “And just what will be the end result? You, struck down by some soldiers sword while you perform some higher magic?”

“You safe, alive and on the throne.” Merlin responded quietly, earning a shocked look from Arthur. “Rest assured that until that time, I shall remain alive and out of the way of soldier’s swords.” He knew as soon as the words were out that he should perhaps not have made the situation into one of jest, for Arthur’s expression had darkened, and his temper, normally buried so deep that nothing could stir it, was nearing the surface rapidly.

“I don’t think so Merlin.” Arthur said, his tone angry, but quiet. “I will not have my life valued above yours, especially above yours.”

Merlin knew he had to tread lightly now. For all his superior intellect, he still could not predict Arthur’s moods, nor where his reasoning would lead him. Surely Arthur knew that everyone in this camp was dedicated to putting him on the throne, and would each and every one of them die for him to see the cause realised, none more so than Merlin himself. He studied Arthur carefully, noting the way his jaw was clenched, in anger, and the way he was now staring stonily out into the darkening night. “Arthur,” he began, softly, soothingly. “You are to be the future king of this land; you are to bring a peace here that has not been seen in many years. This is unshakeable truth my friend, and if I need to die to ensure this will become fact, then I will, without hesitation, and without regret. I became this, Arthur, for you, so that you could become the King this land so desperately needs. To protect and guide you down the right path. That is my destiny.”

Arthur was silent, waging a silent war with his emotions. Merlin watched him, hoping his friend would not give in to his anger, and would realise that for Merlin, this destiny was all he truly wished, to guide Arthur, to help him fulfil everything that was ever prophesied for him, and to help him find happiness. Merlin knew this happiness was tied up in the claiming of the throne and becoming King, and so he would do all within his power to see it come to pass.

“If your destiny leads to your death while twining with mine, then I do not want it. If you were to die Merlin then becoming King would lose all meaning for me.” Arthur said, not looking at Merlin as he spoke, but the emotion was deep.

Merlin frowned at him. “But... why Arthur? Why me and not anyone else? All here would lay their lives down for you. Would becoming King be so worthless then?” he asked, genuinely confused now.

Arthur sighed, and a hint of exasperation bled into his expression as he turned back. “I love them all dearly Merlin, but I knew when they joined us that deaths among them would be likely, I have accepted this. But you Merlin, you have been my friend from childhood. You are my most trusted ally, the only one I know I can turn to despite any situation and have consul that will help me, not lead me astray. To hear you speak so plainly about sacrificing yourself for me... it is painful Merlin, and I never want it to come to that. I know that you gave up your physical strength to better your magic. I know that with a cut of a sword I could lose you, a cut that had you been as you were months ago would have meant nothing. I know that your magic is strong, and can protect you, but Merlin, what if something is immune to it? What if I am not there to keep you safe?” He held Merlin’s gaze and was silent for a long moment. Merlin waited, knowing more was to come, and knowing he would be unable to speak if he tried.

“Promise me Merlin; promise me that you will not sacrifice yourself, and that you shall remain by my side always.”

“So that you may protect me?” Merlin whispered, he had not realised that Arthur valued his safety as he valued Arthur’s, though thinking back over their time together it should have been obvious; how many times had Arthur gallantly come to his rescue if he was struggling in battle? Yes, he understood now. “And I may protect you.”

Arthur smiled, and got to his feet, stretching out. Merlin’s gaze left his friend and drifted back towards the camp, noting that a fire had been lit in the centre of the tents, faint sounds of conversation drifted to him. The feeling of a warm weight settling round his shoulders and back made him acutely aware of just how cold he was, he looked up at Arthur who merely held a hand down to help him up.

“Come, let’s get you to the fire, I’d rather you not have a cold for the rest of the journey.”

The teasing tone made Merlin smile. He gathered Arthur’s warm cloak around him, and accepted the hand up. “Well, if I do end up with a cold, then you only have yourself to blame. Sitting outside, without a fire, in the cold season, looking so broodingly distressed, and ignoring me when I call you inside where it is warm.” He went no further in his teasing, as Arthur gave a short laugh of amusement before ushering him towards the fire and their companions.

Lancelot greeted them as they joined those gathered by the fire, formal as always. Talk soon turned to the next day’s plans, and the route they would be taking, Merlin ignored the conversation, intent on soaking up the warmth of the fire and mulling over his talk with Arthur. He had always believed his destiny was to get Arthur onto the throne and unite the land, but was it possible that there was something more to come after that that had not been revealed to him? Was his destiny so entwined with Arthur’s that his death could have some effect he had not foreseen?

Of friends and destiny, it seemed nothing was certain.

The End

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Tag der Veröffentlichung: 30.12.2009

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