Where Legends Begin

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Merlin knows - she knows down to the depths of herself - that the Arthur who speaks now is HER Arthur. His eyes, the brown earth she loves so very much, are open to her again and the healer finds that a shudder of pure relief and tentative joy run through her very bones as she listens to the King speak, knowing he's not lost to her after all. It is the most heady of feelings, this freedom from fear and dread and Merlin sinks further to the ground, finally letting the tears roll down her face even though Arthur has told her not to cry.

These tear are good, though, a release and Merlin smiles through them to feel his touch, her skin raising in goosebumps in reaction, her breath stilling in her lungs from just that contact alone and she finds there are no words that will come to her. So Merlin uses none.

Her hands bring Arthur's head back up, tender and gentle, before her lips capture his in passion and happiness, love she does not wish to hide as she draws in his essence hungrily, but giving as much as she receives. His mouth is warm, inviting against her own, reassuring her once more and his scent, his taste overwhelm her senses so that Merlin's head swims.

She will tell him everything. About Mordred and Ceridron. About his sister's actions with his Knight friend, about what she has gone through, has learned and experienced. Merlin will swear herself to him again, will make sure he understands everything, will help her King through it as she has always done, will always do, but first....first there is this. There are no words good enough, no explanations to say. She forgives him with her lips alone and absolves him with her fingers in his gold hair.

Merlin tells him she loves him with everything she is in the warmth of her power alone as it flows through his limbs, curling within his chest, a caress she will always give him, as long as he allows.
 
"All I hope is that you can one day see my faults and forgive them, Merlin. My dear, sweet, Merlin. If only I weren't so easily swayed I could have saved you months of worry." He knows it feels that long since they've enjoyed one another's company. "And now I see that all I have done shouldn't be erased from our past. My foolishness and lack of foresight as King has failed me. But don't worry, no, don't worry," his hand strokes her cheek again as the tears come down, "I have learned that you are the most incredible being in this universe and it would take the gods themselves to sway you against me. Such idle--"

Merlin had enough of Arthur's blabbering, her lips eagerly catching his mid-phrase. The King doesn't mind, allowing Merlin the reward of his silence for a chance to express all the love he has left in his body for her. She is right, without saying a word, that a kiss can say what the mind blanks upon. How Arthur's heart swells at the eager acceptance of him and the forgiveness she signals him through it. If she had other thoughts, she would have spoken them instead of giving him such an act of passion. But a single breath of air from Merlin is not satisfactory to Arthur. He, in the depths of his being, feels her warmth seep into him, causing him to pull her as close as their mortal bodies allow them to be. His arms, littered with rivets of linked chain, are quick to respond and come around her to keep her close.

Although the thought of her being a spirit and having a dragon might linger in the King's mind at a later time, he captures this moment for as long as he can. The mighty bear of britain is helpless against her warm, welcoming motions against his lips. It's an ache that he has long wanted to remedy and now Merlin has given him the chance to. So his lips find their way between hers, his head nodding to the rhythm that Merlin accompanies him with. Words will always fail him, his mind drawing a blank only to focus on her taste or the way she breathes life into him. They breathe life into one another. She may have told him she was a spirit but her beating heart against his chest makes Arthur desire her even more. As long as she is in this form, he will love her.

When his lips feel dry, he slowly lets Merlin's lower lip go between his so that they may both take heavy winded breathers. "I love you Merlin," Arthur huffs out quickly before finding the skin of her neck, his teeth grazing her before taking in more of her salt streaked skin. His blond whiskers had mopped up most of her fallen ones but a few from before managed to make their path known right down to the collar of her shirt. "Will you stay with me tonight?" he questions quickly before her fingers may play more with his thick hair. "I want to hold you, kiss you, and hear you breathe after you've drifted off to sleep."
 
The kiss has driven all thought from her head, made her mind heavy and warm, and Merlin smiles softly to hear those four words leave his lips. A shallow gasp leaves hers feeling his hot breath and then teeth make contact with the column of her throat, his lips leaving a sparking trail of fire that cause her fingers to tighten in his blond mane of hair. Her eyes close at his words, breath hitching and then a giggle, soft and happy, escapes her as she dips her head just slightly to place a kiss to his crown, inhaling her King with a joy kindled in her heart.

"Nothing would make me happier." Merlin assures him quietly and in the back of her mind, a small voice questions how he could have thought her against him - how, when she is pure liquid in his hands after a few kisses. Men think it is women who hold the control over men with their wiles and charms, but if a woman's heart beats savagely for a man, his control over her is just as potent. And Merlin had never loved anyone as fiercely as she loved Arthur. That she knew even if she didn't remember her own past. If she had ever loved this way, she would not have loved again. No, Arthur is her first-love despite the number of lovers that might be in her past.

He holds a sway on her that he doesn't even seem to realize. But perhaps that is the way it is meant to be and Merlin doesn't give it much further thought as she trails her fingers back through Arthur's hair, nails lightly grazing his scalp and back towards his neck as she brings his head up again. Her lips find his in a caress far more tender and her dark blue eyes seek his brown.

"Arthur, my Pendragon, I love you." Merlin kisses him again, on his lips, on his nose, a smile curling her mouth. "And no matter what form I take or how long I live, I will always love you. I will never betray you. I never could."
 
Sitting on the floor with Merlin, her fingers grazing through his hair, is all that Arthur could ever want. She kisses him and tells him sweet words that he knows are filled with a passionate love. His heartbeat feels light inside his chest as she makes her way from his mouth to his nose for he knows its his bodies sign of loving Merlin back. Every fiber has been waiting to feel her weight upon him again and hear her voice in his ear. Now she is here, Arthur proudly looking down at her before pulling her into his plated arms for a gentle embrace. The man fears about snapping her spine if he squeezed any harder. He wants to focus on just loving Merlin, talking sweet words into her ear and making her cheeks redden, but other thoughts flood his mind until he cannot hold them back any longer.

"Ceridron might not be happy with my decision to trust you, I know he won't be," Arthur starts, his duty not just to his kingdom but to their happiness now too slipping from his lips, "but he will never hold such power again. I was vulnerable and he saw it, he utilized it because he saw what he wanted to see. Just as I saw what I wanted to see." Separating the space between them completely, Arthur presses his forehead against Merlin's neck, her scent drugging him so that he fails to let go until Merlin brings his face up to hers again. "I am just happy you are safe, Merlin, and at the end of the day, that's all I have ever cared about. You, especially you, and Guinevere's safety."

"I know I shouldn't be talking about these things, no, I shouldn't be." He shakes his head, kissing the underside of her jaw before pulling his face away from her warmth. "But you understand that it needs to be resolved. You've only just arrived and now I see how foolish I was." Lifting his hands from her back, he runs them through her hair once before settling them on either side of her jaw. "Kisses won't make up for how sorry I am, Merlin. They'll numb the pain for a while but it will fester. I don't want us to fight. I never want us to fight. So lets resolve this now so that tonight we can sleep soundlessly without so much as a whisper of treason in the air. Ceridron was only trying to protect me. He mentioned something about a guild in my city who wishes to see my reign end. Something like that."
 
His gentleness was appreciated as Merlin's back was still healing, still tender, but she had no fear of Arthur and curled quite willingly into his arms, accepting his touch with a compliance she rarely showed to anyone. She knows he will speak even before he does because she knows Arthur. He is a like a dog with a bone, desiring to get all the marrow before he will give up his chewing in pursuit of other, lazier things. It is something she both admires and is often frustrated by, but there is no impatience in Merlin now for she knows that what he will speak of needs to be said.

She does not protest his words, nor his reasons for saying them as the healer knows his intentions are correct. If they do not talk of important matters, see each other clearly and the paths ahead of them plainly, then they will fall into the same traps, the same pits laid by their enemies once more.

No, communication here is good and Merlin smiles just slightly to know Arthur thinks the same.

Though, if he wants her mind working properly, she will have to insist he stop kissing her like that! She finds it slightly easier - only slightly - to focus when his hands cradle her face instead, though, Merlin does wish she had better words to give him than the ones that come from her lips, her blue eyes clouding with a seriousness that she can't hide.

"No, my King, he lied. There is no such guild unless it be one that he leads himself."

She knows those words will hit Arthur hard and one hand comes up, slender fingers wrapping gently around his wrist, hoping he does not pull away, wishing to comfort even as Merlin knows she's probably tearing a hole through his heart, not to mention his trust. For a King must trust, is forced to trust and to have such betrayed is a terrible thing.

Merlin puts her next words carefully, but not falsely. "I do not attempt to turn you against a friend merely for the sake of vengeance as he attempted to turn you against me. I only tell you the truth as I have seen it, Arthur. Ceridron is no longer your friend, if he ever was. He sleeps with your sister, Morgana, without seeking your approval or her hand first, and he poisons your mind for his own ends. He is no friend of Camelot, not any longer, and if he were a true friend to you, he would not have sought to exploit a weakness in you as an enemy might. He would have put a shield up against it, to protect not just your person or your Kingdom, but your heart, not prey on you. No true friend takes such advantages."

The healer takes a breath and shakes her head a bit, admitting to what the King will want to know next. "I have no proof. I will admit that freely, not hide it from you, but I speak in the confidence of what I do know regardless of how it sounds or whether I can show you I am right. That is how truth is meant to sound, not hiding behind excuses. I can't prove that Ceridron is not who you have thought, but I know you are wise, Arthur, and you will find the truth, the proof you need for yourself. Whatever you decide, I will not undermine you, but I WILL protect you no matter what that looks like."

No matter if he approves of her methods or not. That is something Merlin will never seek his permission or his thoughts on.
 
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King Arthur looks down to his knees when Merlin starts to speak the words he feared in his gut. Closing his eyes, he nods and nods and tries to listen as well as he can. Two voices collide in his mind though, one of anger towards Ceridron and the other sympathetic of his dear friend. At least, he thought Ceridron was his dear friend until today. "Of course he did," he mutters when Merlin first starts to speak. But her words gain weight and Arthur finds himself unable to let go of her jawline, his fingers stroking gently across the flawless skin. "Dammit." He should have been a good King but here he is, a faulty one.

He doesn't remove himself from her immediate presence for he needs it to survive. The only way he could deal and cope with these acidic words she is spilling on him is knowing that they're from Merlin. She swears to protect him and never, ever, undermine him. But her words about Ceridron and Morgana trouble the young King. It takes him a few moments to gather every word she speaks. "What evidence do you have, Merlin? How could you have seen all this and I missed it? I… I thought they were friends with one another, him and my sister. But now he beds her, obviously with her consent or else I would have seen his dead body curled up by the end of her bed. She is not a woman to be played. She has a bite and isn't afraid to clamp down and hold on tight."

Letting go of her smooth skin, Arthur finds his own face, fingers rubbing his temples. What do I do? What evidence do I have? So he closes his eyes and tries to think of a solution. "I have to know… I have to see it for myself. But how. Him alone sleeping with my sister under such disgraceful terms." Licking his lips, he looks back to those stable blue eyes, questioning everything else his voice does not cover. "He used my speculations of you as hard evidence for turning me against you, Merlin. But they are just words. We need to trap him, Merlin. Catch him. Either with my sister or manipulating me. My dear…"

He presses his forehead to hers for a moment before speaking again, "I'll have to convince him that I still believe in his words. Keep your eyes open and ears even more so. I will do the same. If I can conjure up this evidence, then I can throw him from Camelot and he will no longer be a snake in my system."
 
He does not pull away, not immediately, and Merlin's heart stops galloping so fast within her chest as she understands she's not driven them apart again. It relieves her and she begins to breathe, her pounding pulse calming under his fingers even as Arthur begins to speak. She listens carefully, closely as he'd done for her to everything he says. When he questions her, she does not answer, not immediately as she waits, letting the King get his thoughts out as he would for she knows Arthur thinks best when he's not interrupted. It has taught her over the course of their time together to retain all that he's said so she can address it when he quiets.

And he does quiet, leaving a twisting coil of tension within her belly that she knows he's not put there on purpose. But reside there it does and Merlin is rather grateful that he's initiated contact again for it steadies her as she speaks once more, the healer's voice soft, but firm, for his ears alone though there is no one in the room with them.

"Then it would probably be wiser for me to not stay here the night, Arthur, lest we are seen on good terms and it is reported to him." she cautioned, hating the words, but knowing them true and Merlin sighs, her eyes closing for a moment as she collects her remaining thoughts and then finally utters them. She is logical, steady, truthful and yet offering solutions to him, supportive - just as any Queen should, though, she does not hold the title.

"You are wise to seek evidence, Arthur. As much as I wish my word was enough, I know that it can not be and I take no offense to it. A King must base his decisions upon clear and tangible proofs and I desire more than anything for you to be a good King." Merlin smiles at him, her fingers moving up to brush against his chin, to trace a thumb lovingly over his lower lip, telling him that she truly has no quarrel with him over this. "And you are a good King, even if you make mistakes. This situation was not one you could have predicted and it wasn't one I saw with mortal eyes either. It was my Sight that has seen such things, Arthur."

Merlin swallowed, looking down for she knows that such talk puzzled him and he does not like it, but such is the truth. "I know the word of a Seer can not be all a King goes on in convicting another person, but I would tell you the truth. It is my Sight that has shown me Ceridron's betrayal. It...I would caution you to handle this very carefully, Arthur."

Now Merlin does look up and her dark blue eyes show a trace of fear, genuine and unexpected for Merlin does not scare easily. But what she has seen scares her, nay it terrifies her, and she does not know how to fix it, stop it. All she can do is warn other, try to understand the signs around her, but she can not guarantee that will stop the future.

"I have seen Morgana's future. I...she will...there is a danger in her decisions and in the actions that follow. I have seen her take a path, do things that I pray will never come to pass, but I freely admit that I don't know how to stop this future for your sister. If we were friends, I might speak with her, but I fear we are not destined for such." Merlin takes a breath, focusing her mind once more. "I would only urge you to weigh every decision regarding her carefully, Arthur. As of now she is not your enemy, but that doesn't mean she never will be and I believe that whatever choice you make with Ceridron will have far-reaching effects with her."
 
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Arthur reluctantly nods at Merlin's decision not to stay with him for tonight. He knows in his heart that she is true but he, more than ever, wants her by his side so that he may not be tricked like this again. It had taken time for Ceridron to work his coils around the King and no time at all for Arthur to pry them off of himself. "I know you are right about not staying here, Merlin. You're going to have to sell it and I know you can. It won't be easy for your eyes sing to the world what your heart wants. Remember how you looked at me before, how you…" Arthur doesn't go on any further, her thumb distracting him to great extents. His hands drop into his own lap, eyes closing to the soft rhythm of her gentle strokes.

His stubble, well kept as he always assures it is, welcomes Merlin's thumb, the skin underneath shaking gently with her tickle. "And I did not believe in your magic powers for a very long time, Merlin. I saw you heal millions of men, yet doubted the validity of such an odd concept. Magic is something I will never get used to, my dear Merlin, but I can get used to you wielding it. You speak of betrayal and I will make your predictions what they will be. Some might be wrong, clouded, and others will be as clear as day." He bites his tongue, the thought of his sister sleeping with another man who she is not betrothed to causing his stomach to grow more acidic. Sure, a Prince was allowed to sleep around but a woman, a princess, must keep herself pure for her husband.

Arthur knows that it's a starting point for his investigations and with Merlin's full support on his side, Arthur is sure that the ends will tie together nicely. "There is not much I can decide until the evidence is before me, Merlin," Arthur whispers, knowing that not even his room is safe for such talk, "You say he sleeps with my sister and plans to overthrow my kingdom but I will deal with these crutches in time and when I have all of his plot, I will bring it to Camelot Law and thus decide the right course of action." Then Merlin speaks of Morgana, Arthur's brow rising.

"I know you two aren't close, even in the social realm you avoid each other like the plague." He shakes his head, taking Merlins hands by the wrists and pulling her off of him in one crisp movement. "She might have a grudge or dislike but she is my sister and I know her more than you do. Morgana might be grumpy at times but she loves me and Camelot. She would rather die than betray her brother." his voice grows gently but keeps underneath a cloud of hushed whispers, "I am certain of it. That's a false vision on your part, Merlin. I will beware, as you say, but until I see it with my own eyes…" Instead of boring her with a recap, Arthur brings her hands to his chest so that she may place her fingers on his chain. "Thank you for your orbs of wisdom, Merlin."

Leaning in, he captures her lips with his again for a long embrace between them. "I mean every word. You've saved me again and now," he strokes her hair back with one hand, "I must thank you, hm? If I can't kiss you again tonight, then I ought to now. It's only fair, isn't it?" Tilting his head to the side like a boat caught on a perfect summer breeze, Arthur makes their noses touch again, "I think so… before we have to play 'angry at each other'."
 
Her Sight is not wrong. Merlin knows such a thing without doubt, but she says naught of it. Yes, sometimes her visions are not clear and clouded, Arthur is correct about that, but he is wrong to think they are not accurate. Subject to CHANGE, yes, but not less accurate for their ability to change for that change had to come from one who had seen the vision in the first place. No, Merlin knew what she had seen concerning Morgana, Ceridron, Mordred...all were true.

Whether they could be diverted and taken on another path...remained to be seen.

But Merlin did not venture on this subject as she listens to Arthur speak of his sister. She nearly bristles as he takes her wrist, manipulating her body as he sees fit, but it's an instinctive response to past abuse on Merlin's part and she knows that Arthur does not mean it as such. She forces her body to remain compliant to what he wants, but was far more relieved when he releases her. She takes in his words of his sister and Merlin sets her jaw against correcting him, arguing. She knows she can not convince him of anything for he sees through the eyes of a loving brother who wants to forgive his sister anything. He claims that Merlin doesn't see clearly, but the healer knows it is the King who is seeing through filtered vision. He sees the loving sister he WISHES Morgana would be, but not the manipulative, cold woman she actually is.

Merlin does not want to fight with Arthur, though, nor lose his trust in her by trying to convince him of what she knows Morgana to be. All she can do is protect Arthur and pick up the pieces if his sister betrays him as she has seen. But perhaps, maybe this future can be changed.

She says nothing of it, though, no matter how she wants to correct him and Merlin leaves the subject alone as his lips touch her own and she's swept up into his warmth again. The tension in her body leaves and her fingers curl against his chainmail, but find no purchase. Merlin doesn't care as her lips curl into a smile when their noses touch. "Hm, yes, I think I agree." she hums back to her King and her mouth finds his again, pulling him into a kiss slow and sensual as her arms rise and loop around his neck, pulling her closer to his body.

Merlin wishes they could stay this way forever, lost in the bliss of each other but even as she kisses Arthur, Merlin knows that she still has something to tell him and it niggles at the back of her mind, persistent and looming.
 
Now that they must play their charade of being distant at all costs, Arthur distrusting Merlin and her being heartbroken over it, Arthur takes as much time as he needs with his kisses. His senses are heightened because his eyes are closed. He no longer relies on his brain to tell him everything through his eyes but stops for a moment and lets himself breathe. In and out comes his breath between her lips, the scent of fresh wood and damp ground still tangled in her hair. He is stuck on her taste, whirling with untapped desires that he knows he cannot execute now. Arthur wants to hold her without the barriers of armor and cloth so that he may truly feel her heartbeat to know she is a part of him.

Letting go of her lips slowly, Arthur keeps his eyes shut and gives her a satisfied groan vibrating from his throat. "Do you know what you've just achieved, Merlin?" he questions, "You alone have just taken a man who could still be on the floor, panting, sweating, and gods know what else, and made him feel bubbles inside his chest. Warm ones that he can hardly," he kisses her again, "contain." Letting his smile shine, he opens one eye to gage her reaction, wanting more than anything to forget about work for just a few damn moments. "And you have turned this blubbering mess into a King. How do you do it? What's your secret? It must be that magic of yours because I see no other solution."

With one arm securely around her waist, Arthur opens both eyes and leans backwards slightly. "If I were a man who could scribe beautiful poems, Merlin, I would write you down like nothing this world had ever seen before. If I were a carpenter, I would build you your own house and make it all the things you love and need. The same goes for a shoemaker, blacksmith, and tailor. But, my dear, I am a King. Sure," he swoops his hand through the air, "I could buy you anything in the world but that wouldn't cut it." The King shakes his blond locks. "I don't know how to earn my confidence back with you, my dear Merlin. And I want to, more than anything in the world, for you to have something that I have crafted with my time, energy, and bare hands."

The King has no idea where these thoughts have come from but they flow as freely as water in his mind. It all makes so much sense, a gift must be presented to her as a plead for forgiveness. It could be flowers picked by someone else's hand, sure, or a delicacy bought at the market. But the true act would be complete only with an item of his own creation. "And it will be beautiful and only made with thoughts of you in mind." Arthur assures her before he starts another delicate rampage of kisses against her lips. This time, he holds each kiss longer than the previous ones, making sure Merlin receives all the attention her lips want before they're separated.
 
Merlin laughs, soft and happy to his words, his jest, and then she goes silent, listening as he seems to pour out his heart. It is more than enough for the healer, but the silly man, he insists on a gift and she can do naught but shake her head, knowing she will not be able to dissuade him. Arthur is pigheadedly stubborn about such things she has learned and so Merlin simply doesn't truly answer the question of what she might want. That's the point....she desires nothing; nothing by the man before her, his arms around her waist, his lips upon her own, his breath in her lungs and his heartbeat matching her rhythm. She could ask for nothing more and she has it in this moment.

She is content.

So instead Merlin chuckles and merely kisses Arthur back, savoring each touch, the flavor of him, seemingly different every time. She lets her mind forget everything for a time and the world fades away, leaving her with Arthur and only him. Merlin ends up curled in his lap after awhile, her ear against his chest, simply listening to his heart beat, a soothing song that resonates deep within her, bringing with it a peace.

Finally, though, she knows that it's getting dark outside and they have been in here, together, for much too long. If anyone was watching, it would seem suspicious for her to stay much longer, perhaps it already did seem too suspicious, but that couldn't be helped. Before Merlin goes though, she knows she must speak with Arthur what nearly a month of events has prevented her from saying.

Her dark blue eyes meet his brown and Merlin bites her lip for a moment before she speaks. "Arthur, I've had a Vision, several, of Mordred coming here. He is using his dark power to cloak himself, hence why you've had no word from your scouts. He is only three weeks out from Camelot itself."
 
"Then, my dear Merlin," Arthur kisses her cheek once, twice, and a third time, keeping his lips on her longer with each passing kiss, "we will definitely have to make sure that we get rid of our first little problem before we deal with the second bigger problem." His words walk from his mouth like a cat in the night. Bringing her close again, Arthur shuts his eyes tight. As much as he knows he needs to not let his defenses down, that name, that spitfire spawn from hell, catches his root and rips it from his chest completely. "I will not let that man destroy my kingdom." He takes deep breathes, his chest tight with anger and fury. It's amazing how turbulent his emotions can change, windswept in storms that come and go as they please.

"He killed my father. That man killed my father. Now he is making his way into my kingdom, past my guards." Instead of pushing Merlin away, as he usually does, Arthur tightens his grip around her, his face pressing into her collarbone and neck. "I will kill him if he shows his face in my castle. He dares tread on my ground with his wickedness." He shakes his head, inhaling all he can of her before he brings his head back up to eye level. It's when he looks into those bright eyes of hers, blue with flecks of gold, that he remembers her powers. Then Mordred's too. He sighs helplessly, a long breath that he cannot stop from happening. "You must leave. This leaves me in the perfect… mood for nothing to be suspected."

It's true that Arthur's spirit has been stomped on and it doesn't matter how many sweet kisses Merlin might give him. The man who killed his father, poisoned him and had been riding miles away when he passed, is now making his way to Camelot. This, now, along with the entire Ceridron situation is making Arthur's veins pop from his head. He holds in a breath until he fears his face might turn purple. "Merlin I…" he starts, wanting to apologize for his comment that seems like eons ago. She has still be patient with him, stroking her hands through his hair as he processes all that is going on. "I'm sorry we have to keep our distance from one another. You should go. It's safer that way for you." Bringing her in for one, last, long, kiss, he holds back every fiber of feeling he has left for her before standing and bringing up Merlin with him.

"Why haven't you left already, Merlin?" he questions loudly, eyes looking towards the door. "The conversation has ended. We're done here. You're dismissed. Yet you stand there with that… that look on your face. Do you expect me to welcome you home with open arms after all you've done? No. Get out. Get!" He stomps towards the door, footsteps heavy and meaning to be thus. With his hand on the handle, he traces his hand over her cheek as if writing his name for her tongue to speak later. "I love you." he mouths before opening up the door and pushing her out. But he doesn't shut it until she gives him one of her fiery comebacks that, under normal circumstances, will sting and twist into his humanity. Most of all, it's Merlin's words that stay with him and make him see all his mistakes.
 
Well, his reaction had been better than she was expecting, but no less than she could have anticipated. It was only natural that Arthur would want to kill Mordred, but though Merlin held her tongue for the moment - she was getting better about that, wasn't she? - she knew she'd have to speak to him of such a course of actions before the Dark King arrived. Right now she merely lets her King pull her close and she plays with the hair at the nape of his neck, nodding with a sigh of her own to his words of her leaving.

Yes, she knows she must, but she doesn't WANT to. She hardly gets to do what she wants anymore, though, does she? Not for many years now it would seem. Not since she'd gotten swept up into this world, into Camelot and Arthur. Oh, she wasn't complaining, not really, but it was true....though, a further truth would be that she'd always planned to be here.

She wasn't human after all and it would probably be good not to forget that.

The healer doesn't correct him about her leaving and when he stands, she finds her feet as well and then has to hold back a grin at his sudden bellowing. He is quite comical when he does such in the way they are now, but Merlin fights the smile from her face as they get closer to the door and she catches his retreating hand in a glancing kiss of understanding, her eyes shining their own love for him before he opens the door and like that, Merlin's demeanor changes, becoming hard and cold faster than one could blink. If Arthur was worried she'd give them away so soon into the ruse, he was sadly mistaken as she whirls around after he pushes her out the door, her tongue as filled with fire as a dragon's breath.

"I told you years ago, Arthur Pendragon, I'm not one of your dogs that I can be summoned and shooed by your whim alone! I have done nothing but tell you the truth and yet you will not see it! When have I ever lied to you? What I have I done that is so horrible you won't even listen to me fairly anymore?!"

At his lack of answer, she gives a sound of disgust,"You foolish King!" and storms away.

But unbeknownst to everyone else, all those heads peeking around corners only to scurry back again in fear of getting caught listening, a warmth spreads through Arthur, Merlin's power touching him, reassuring him that she means none of her words.
 
"Oh but you forget, Merlin," he shouts down the hallway, "I am KING! I have ultimate reign over this kingdom and EVERYONE in it! Just because you… you have magic doesn't mean you are excluded! I …" but he grumbles the last part through barred teeth, turning on his heel and slamming the door behind him. Closing his eyes on the other side of the threshold, he feels her warmth, a smile keeping his heart on due course. Their ploy, no doubts in his mind, has worked. He explained the momentary silence in his room and their words tell the rest of the story. He is pleased with himself, despite the angry rage he should find himself in, to have pulled such a trick. Now all they have to do is maintain it.

As long as Ceridron has pinned himself to Arthur, showing up at his chambers at the most inconvenient times, he knows that Merlin and him cannot secretly meet. When they pass each other in the hallway, the once happy couple either narrows their eyes or looks away entirely. Sometimes, if enough people are around, they will find roundabout ways to get to their destination. Arthur fears that a servant might see or sense a small glimmer of what truly is between them and run to his right hand man in a fit of hysteria. Okay, maybe the King is overreacting but being safe is better than sorry. Plus, he assumes that it's what he would usually do if they were really fighting. He is King and an actor now, and how degrading it feels to be the fool.

But every night, when the torches are burning and blackening the stone walls, Arthur sneaks from his room. Going to see Merlin would be foolish so he can only muster walking past her door, if his walks pass by. If he knows he is completely alone with no eyes upon him, he slips a note underneath the door. It would not be stamped with his red wax seal but a simple folded paper. Every night it's signed by someone different, its content skewed to how Arthur felt that day through the eyes of someone else. Perhaps someone from Merlin's past or townsfolk who need her assistance. He knows that she must burn those letters after receiving them, or at least he hopes she finds the strength to throw them in the yellow flames.

What he does for the rest of those walks is try and hunt down Ceridron and catch him either making shady deals, plotting against him in alleyways, or removing himself from his own chambers to find a bed with more feathers and company. But night after night, the snake inside his walls slips through his watch, the King unable to find even traces of what Ceridron is doing. He wants to ask around, using his Kingly rights to coax the truth out of the servants and staff. But then word would get back to him if Arthur questions the wrong maid, cook, or stableboy. So he retires himself for the night, writing a letter to Merlin.

Her most gracious Merlin of Camelot,

I, Sandrin Gother, son of Lord Gother of Plox, write to your ladyship on behalf of Robert Kettle, a farmer of southern Camelot lands about matters concerning a rodent in mister Kettle's grain supplies. Although he has never seen such a beast chew the grain, there are holes in the sacks. Each day that this creature is not dealt with, mister Kettle loses a third, or more, of his supply. He fears that, under the proper conditions, this beast will soon produce more of its kind and therefore take more grain from mister Kettle's supply. Our apothecary burned down half a year ago and therefore we do not hone the supplies necessary to rid ourselves of the beast. The roads are far too dangerous and travelers hardly come through our little hamlet. I write to you with the hopes that you may be able to advise mister Kettle on how to rid his supply of these vermin. They do not show themselves often, it's as if they don't exist but evidence shows otherwise.

Your humble servant,

Sandrin Gother and Robert Kettle
 
Merlin reads the letter with solemn, thoughtful eyes.

The last week had worn on her. Oh, Merlin was a good actress, but she'd come back to Camelot hoping to find peace, to be once more in Arthur's presence where she feels strongest and most alive, to heal and feel like she was at home again. She has found none of it, though, the only solace being that she knows Arthur does not hate her, believes her, loves her. It doesn't help her sleep, though, and without proper sleep - and more work than she should be doing since she IS Merlin and never can stay still - her back is not healing as well as it should, though, she's in no danger of infection or collapse. It's simply more tender, more achy than it should be. The healer hardly cares, though, her mind on far more important things even as she works.

Healing and slowly fixing the damage she'd done to Camelot with her storm - her power comes in handy when fixing stone, Merlin has learned - only keep her mind partially busy. Fixing her own room takes up a bit more time, but truly it is subtly planning for Mordred's arrival, keeping an eye on the Dark King, watching over Arthur even if he doesn't realize it, and keeping tabs on Ceridron and Morgana - though, she's been unable to contact Arthur when she knows Ceridron is conspiring - that consume Merlin. It exhausts her most days, but it keeps her from thinking about the King she loves too much.

Or at least she wishes it did.

Having to pretend she is so angry and disgusted with him is one of the hardest things she's had to do and Merlin prays for when it will be over. In the meantime, though, she reads the letter and frowns, biting her lip as she thinks carefully about how to respond - for she must respond to this even though she's not done it for the other letters - and how to get it to Arthur without anyone knowing. Actually, that last part is rather easy.

After some time and contemplation, the healer puts her quill to ink and ink to paper.

Bait Ceridron. Say you've found a husband for Morgana, tell him with all the excitement of a brother who's accomplished a great feat, one your father would approve of. Tell him as you would a trusted friend. It will send him right to Morgana, to warn her. If you find he slips your watch once more, do not worry about it. He will not slip mine and I will alert you this time. There is risk of our discovery in it, but this might be our only chance.

Mordred is coming, Arthur, and while Ceridron is important, the Dark King is much more so. We hardly want the two joining forces, but Mordred is the greater priority. He is two weeks out. You must prepare Camelot for his arrival as one King would to another. I know you wish to kill him, but for now the alliance with the North still stands and Camelot cannot afford another war so soon. Keep the peace, false as it is, for as long as you might and prepare for Mordred. Do not let him humiliate Camelot or its King by taking you by surprise.

I will help you as I can, as you bid me.

I love you.

Merlin didn't sign it, but she didn't need to. All she had to do was get it to Arthur.

--

It was pathetically easy to pass the note.

All Merlin had to do was appear in thought, hurried and run straight into Arthur - literally - when she knew they'd cross paths. Faking a stumble, she grabbed on to him 'instinctively', slipping the note into his hand and then looked up. Upon seeing who it was, she jerked away as if burned, eyes hardening into dark blue storms of anger as she stiffly gathered her composer and offered a clipped, perfuctionary bow.

"Your Highness."

No apology for running into him, nothing more than those two somehow scathing words before she walked away, never once looking back, head held high and her body radiating tension that she dropped as soon as she was out of sight.

Merlin let the smallest hint a smile come to her lips behind her hair before she continued on her way.
 
That night Arthur flipped through the fraying pages of the royalty, or nobles, that surround his dear Camelot. It would matter a great deal, he knew, to his sister and Ceridron who the lucky pick was going to be. They would have to be convinced that Arthur really means his decision. Morgana has wrung lies out of Arthur and he is sure that she will be able to do it again within a heartbeat. Perhaps its her vibrant stare that clenches onto the truth because of her mouth cannot speak it often enough. Whatever the reasons, Arthur finds a suitable prince, one who is wealthy and owns lots of land. If Morgana is to be married off, she would be removed from the castle and therefore she knows that Arthur would want her to have as much comfort as possible even if the passion of love is lacking.

Arranged marriages, he knows, are tricky but both parties know what is at stake. Maybe I should just marry her off to Mordred. Comes a quick thought but Arthur quickly chuckles at it. No. He would use my own sister as blackmail. Who knows what else she would endure in the hands of that monster. His small smile fades when he remembers his own father's words that night in the gold and red tent when the treaty was being discussed between north and south. They'll never stop fighting us even if we have the shroud of peace over our eyes. He remembers his own father's voice agreeing to the arrangements of Merlin's betrothal. Arthur closes his eyes. When Mordred comes, he will still want Arthur's half heart. Arthur knows he will stop at nothing to obtain what he wants.

Looking back down at the maps of bloodline inked pages, Arthur heaves a sigh. That monster is coming into his home and soiling it with hate and contempt. Arthur, being King, must smile and laugh but never let his guard down. Rubbing his hand against his temple, Arthur leans one arm on the side of his desk, feeling the smooth, stained, wood. It comforts him to know that he has such wonders. But will Morgana believe that she will be obtaining the same here as in the kingdom he places her in. Is it right for him to decide her future for her? Another sigh escapes his lips, fingers now playing through the blond hairs across his temple. He has picked his suitor for his sister, now he has to make himself believe it.

The next day, Arthur and Ceridron pursue their usual route through the valley, across the narrowest point of the stream, and circling around the forest that lies there. The wind whips and gallops in their direction, Arthur pretending to have a good time. But his mind, feeling dense in his skull, worries about how he will reveal his information to Ceridron in a manner he will accept well.

"We must talk," Arthur orders when they slow their steeds and dismount so that they can have a fresh lick of the mountain water, "about my sister Morgana and her status." Arthur doesn't waste time waiting for an answer from his friend. "You've been an ally to me in the darkest of times, my own brain even turning against me, let alone Merlin and Guinevere." At such talk, he looks down, setting the right cards on the table for his next move. He is solemn, reserved, but pensive and dedicated to what he is about to say. "I love my sister more than anything else, Cer. I want to see her happy and I think I have found the perfect match to make her just that. Camelot can only be her home for so long. It's about time she got married and started settling down."
 
Merlin, atop the battlement wall, smiles faintly at Arthur's words. He will never realize she's heard them, but the healer's eyes glow the faintest gold as she casts her power out, watching and listening both as she has constantly done in the past. Ceridron might escape Arthur's net today, but he will have no chance of escaping hers. He was sly and smart, but he seemed not to know at all just who he was lying about and what Merlin could do. She knew that made her sound arrogant, even in her own mind, but the truth sometimes sounded that way. She'd kept Arthur safe from every threat until this day, from things much worse than Ceridron and his petty schemes.

This man would not beat her, not when she had much bigger problems to worry about. He was naught but a pesky fly to be swatted away at a whim. He just didn't realize it yet.

He'd find out today, though.

For now, however, there was little for Merlin to do but watch and so that she did, but her focus divided itself as she cast her power out further, ignoring the small twinge of warning within her that said she was overstepping her bounds. Her body could only take so much before it started turning on her again. She needed to work up to things like this. Unfortunately, the dark-haired healer knew she didn't have the time to. Never the time.

Mordred was coming and it was him she sought, taking care to make sure he didn't sense her while gaining tabs on his whereabouts. She nearly cursed when she did, gold eyes narrowing in anger and frustration. He'd picked up the pace. He was a day closer than she'd expected him to be and he was far more alert now.

Merlin pulled back quickly when she felt green strands of his power coming toward her and then winced, rubbing her temples with her fingertips before she fled the wall, in search of Guinevere. They had to hurry their preparation along.
 
As King, Arthur knows that his authority may overpower Ceridron, no matter how convincing his argument against his words might be. He watches, amused in his own mind, when Ceridron immediately plants his eyes to the ground, trying to hide the anger that is there. As if Arthur could see the wheels turning in his head, trying to conjure up something to combat his words, Ceridron smiles and surprisingly agrees to the king's words. Trying not to seem too shocked, Arthur lifts his head up to the blue, cloud spotted, sky. Breathing in a long breath, he tries to remember the last time Ceridron actually agreed with him. Of course, since Merlin has returned, Arthur has agreed with Ceridron to keep the status quo.

"A marriage would benefit the Kingdom financially, strategically, and you giving up your sister to the right suitor has been long awaited in these walls." How good of a lair Ceridron has become, his smile, however fake Arthur notes it for, may be witnessed as genuine to any other eyes if they should look upon him. His eyes, however, are slow to move back up to him, his smile fading there. "Well, let's hear who you have chosen, maybe pick a whole line of blood so that she may have a choice. You know how she gets when she feels she has been backed into a corner."

"I cannot waste idle time waiting for her to choose someone, Ceridron," Arthur decides quickly, "I fear that our ties with Cheshire, a kingdom overlooking the irish sea, has long been fraying. The King there, who goes by the name of Korness Barimr, has a son, Alfray. I remember meeting him once at a tournament in Devon. He is a good lad, or at least was when I jousted him. He is honorable, a bit soft hearted, and knows his duties well. Perhaps in contrast to Morgana, they will be a good match to one another. She may order him around all she likes and I doubt the boy will have any qualms against it. He will give her a home, a good home, children, and a name. Especially a name. She will marry Alfray and be Queen of Cheshire once King Korness passes on."

"You shouldn't be telling me all of this," Ceridron starts but Arthur raises his hand, the black leather glove silencing any more words from his mouth.

"I am telling you this because you know Alfray better than I do."

"We knew each other as children, that was such a long time ago. He came and stayed in my castle for three years as part of his path to knighthood."

Arthur nods and Ceridron feels the pit grow in his stomach, a jealous anger that he could not ignore. But he had to, at least right now in front of the King. So that cheap smile lights up his face again. "As you wish it, M'lord. You are, after all, King of Camelot and if you think it's a good match--"

"You're missing the point," Arthur interrupts with a shake of his head and stern words. "Do you think that Alfray is a good match for my sister?"

Ceridron hesitates, "Yes," he finally breathes, Arthur knowing he feels the ultimate defeat but can only show happiness for the marriage that has been arranged. "Yes, I think that Alfray Barimr is a fine choice for Lady Morgana. She will be cared after very well in Cheshire."
 
-----

Merlin has felt like a hummingbird all day long; flitting from place to place, task to task, never still, never present for long, working, arranging, organizing. It helps that everyone in the palace knows her...and well, that she has one of Arthur's signet rings to use on things that would need his approval. When ask about it, she simply replies that she's had it for a while and is now making use of it, and even those who knew she and Arthur were 'not getting along' could only assume that he'd given it to her at some point in the past when they were closer, friends.

Why she's using it now and what the consequence will be...well, that is for the King to decide and most don't want to see Merlin get in trouble anyway. Most in Camelot respect her even if they don't like her and many like her even if they don't love her - and there are a good many who do indeed adore her. They use their own judgement, therefore, and determine that the things she requests and seals with the King's ring are not going to harm the King or the Kingdom and they put the orders, through.

It does help, too, that the Lady Guinevere is often seen following after Merlin's trail, even when the healer has long gone and giving her own approval to the tasks.

If people didn't know better, they'd think they were making preparations for some grand visiting royalty, but that would be absurd! They would have had much more warning if something like that were to occur. But still, who are they to questions a Lady like Guinevere? No, they do as she wants, as Merlin who has her blessing, wants.

And by the end of the day, Merlin is dead on her feet, but she doesn't let herself collapse into much needed sleep just yet, keeping her gift active, extended to Ceridron, Morgana and Arthur, waiting and watching for when the sly snake will make his move. When he does, she will fly like a faithful bird to the roost that is Arthur and this time, neither Ceridron or Morgana will escape capture.
 
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"My Lord," Ceridron interrupts the King as they walk their way to the southern staircase that leads away to guest chambers, "there is something I wish to bring to your attention this evening. You see, Merlin and Guinevere have been… making certain preparations that I find will be most disruptive towards your reign. That guild master seems to be making plans that he assumes will not fail. You've fallen out in favor with Merlin, this is good, but you've not taken her power away from her."

Arthur has to bite his tongue at what is being said, his hand twitching by his side not to give the man a good whack of sense in his temple. Never-the-less, he nods his head, placing his hands in front of his chest and rubbing them as if he were in deep thought about the issue. "So you're saying that I must take her power away from her? Ceridron, my friend," he lays a hand on the man's shoulder, "you cannot simply take that away from her so easily."

"You must send her away from Camelot, Arthur."

"She is no longer poisoning my mind. All she is doing is helping--"

Ceridron shakes his head, stopping to look outwards towards the courtyard, "Arthur, you still don't understand. She, outwardly, is helping in the medical wings, yes. But what is she doing when nightfall comes?"

"Sleeping?" Arthur questions stupidly, shrugging his shoulders.

"Plotting against you and your Kingdom. She is using your ring, the one you gave her many long moons ago. Guinevere and her both are starting to spread their influence over the people," Arthur stares down at the ground, his brows knitted together at this information but Ceridron keeps talking, "you have to do something to stop them. Now." He hovers by the staircase that separates his room in the other side of the castle and the pathways that lead, eventually, to where Morgana resides. Arthur notices him hesitate to ascend, the desire of his lions filling his eyes. Arthur's face involuntarily hardens at such a thought.

"I will speak with her and ask for her to give me by ring back. How does that sound? You are dismissed Ceridron, I shall see you in the morning to look over the schematics we briefly glanced at tonight." Nodding his head, Arthur, dismisses his friend with a wave and stomps towards Merlin's room. Without knocking, he enters in a gust of fury, slamming the door behind him. The maid who had just exited, carrying clothes that needed to be washed and hemmed or patched, just in ear range to hear Arthur start yelling, that is, if Merlin is there.
 
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