OMG I'm BACK! Officially this time :D And now, I have a Merlin fic! I'm soooooo siked! I nearly have it finished, so guess what that means?
There won't be a long wait between chapters! Woo!
Anywho, For the time setting of this story please read:
This is based after Season 4, only Arthur has not married Gwen...yet...and Agravaine has not died. Though he was granted clemency for his crimes. But for how long this will last...we'll find out MWahahahaha!
Merlin thought everything was going particularly well for the normal schedule he usually had to handle. He bounced up the street, feeling particularly amused that he had not gotten a long list of chores from his master that morning. Arthur had been too busy getting ready for a council meeting, and Merlin was already running late to help him.
Merlin was a skinny boy, with a tall lanky figure. He was so commonly known for wearing a tattered scarf; or neckerchief, that it was weird to see him without it. The young servant wore animal skin boots and a brown tan skin jacket as well. He always had a bounce in his step, and a shinning smile that could cheer up even the most depressing person.
Yet he had a dark secret, which could get him killed. The boy contained magic, which was outlawed on penalty of death, without hesitation.
He waved hello to the blacksmith who gave a smile and nod to him. Yes indeed, today was going to be perfection, superb.
In till he heard the warning bells go off in the distance with a terrifying loud gong. Its echoes traveled to Merlin's ears, causing him to drop Arthur's freshly cleaned laundry into a mud puddle. Cursing silently, the young warlock gingerly lifted up the soaked tunic with regret.
That was another ten minutes of his life wasted away on the prat king and not training his magic.
Deciding not to worry too much on the mud, Merlin turned and ran for the throne room in haste, his curiosity on what was happening taking over his thoughts.
Bursting into the room unceremoniously, Merlin found himself late and interrupting what appeared to be a very important event. Arthur, currently sitting on his throne, raised an eyebrow at Merlin, and narrowed upon the muddy tunic. His gaze said one thing; he was so going to have multiple chores when this was over.
Wading his way through the throng of people, attempting not to be rude but at the same time quickly getting to Arthur's side. It was at this moment that Merlin saw the small group of people standing in a pitiful state before the king.
Their clothes ripped to shreds, and barely hanging on their figures to cover them decently. Ugly wounds covered many of the men, and even to Merlin's disgust the women and children. They had their gazes all cast down to the floor. Except for a few inquiring souls whom wished to know his identity.
Indeed, Merlin could not shake the feeling that they looked similar.
"Now, explain to me Sir Bedivere, who are these people you bring before me?" Arthur asked, diplomacy becoming his new aurora.
"Citizens from a small village, we attacked the minute we knew they were there," An old knight supplied, his voice harsh and cold as he spoke. Arthur's face was filled with fury as he barked the reply,
"Are you telling me you attacked an innocent village?"
"No! Our laws are against them, those who killed your father, these villagers are druids,"
Merlin dropped Arthur's muddy tunic to the floor, resulting in a loud smack as the wet fabric impacted on the stone. One of the druid men, the leader by the look of it, chanced a glance towards him. Once more Merlin was greeted by another shock, for he did indeed know this man.
It was Iseldir, a leader of one of the druid camps, the one where Mordred had once lived. He had once aided Merlin in a quest to save a dragon egg from the hands of a man who would use it for power instead of good. A quick glance through the rest of the men, Merlin resulted in relief that Mordred was not one of them. Arthur next to him on his throne took in a sharp breath as well, as if he too knew him.
Though Merlin could not begin to fathom how Arthur would know a druid leader. Unless he threatened him before...maybe for the cup of life?
"I am not hearing anything wrong, or worthy of attack," Arthur strangled out, and he sounded like someone had their hands around his throat. Merlin looked among the Druids again, and noticed more of them were looking in his direction now.
Merlin wondered if they knew he was Emrys, he was sure that Iseldir did.
"They were smugglers as well Sire, we have proof,"
At this point, Iseldir stood forward. Wringing his old hands together in a surprisingly calm manner, he spoke,
"Sire, if you would let me ex-"At this point a guard knocked him to the floor. Merlin flinched, trying to avoid the gazes of the people that now seemed to think he was supposed to entertain them or something. He was tried to silence, didn't they know that?
"That will be enough, Merlin help that men and his wound whilst he speaks," Merlin grabbed a water basin from a nearby servant and Gaius came forward with a clean cloth. He accepted it in gratitude and stumbled to his knees to help his kinsman in magic.
"Sire, the luggage we have that looks like smuggled goods is just the villages supplies. We must live somehow. However I truly believe and I know you do as well, that your men did not attack because of that. We are not fooled, your men seek to kill us for magic, and use the smuggling as an excuse."
Arthur looked uncomfortable.
"If you needed someone to tell you more on magic, provide you with the knowledge that we only use it for good, I am aware there is someone in the room that can be of service," Merlin dropped the water basin, and the bowl cracked spreading water everywhere.
'Sorry Emrys,' Iseldir's voice rung inside Merlin's head.
"Merlin, this isn't the time for you to be a buffoon," Arthur snapped in frustration. A small druid boy stepped forward,
"You should treat him with more respect! He is a great and powerful man!" An older woman next to him, Merlin guessed to be a mother shushed him terrified. Pulling him back into the midst of their people.
Merlin felt the color rise in his cheeks as Arthur's gaze rest on him.
"Are you acquainted with these people Merlin?" Merlin gulped, every eye in the court turned on him. His silence and secrets forced him to look down ashamed as he lied to his king.
"No my lord,"
"This man you speak of, will he say something?" Arthur asked, turning his attention back to Iseldir.
The man in question turned and looked at Merlin for a very long time, than he sighed and turned back to the king. A look of defeat spread across his features.
"It appears he will not, his silence is too important to him,"
The king frowned, and he addressed to the air, pointed to the man that Iseldir spoke of.
"A coward then, if he can save his people and refuses with silence to save his own skin,"
The words stung Merlin like he had been whipped several times. It tortured him inside, to allow his people to be hurt and hunted by Camelot's men. The butt of jokes, the target practice of knights.
Will the fight ever end?
"Then to the dungeons in till further evidence shows itself, we can neither claim you guilty or innocent at the given standing,"
Merlin saw the small boy who had stood up for him turn and glare murderously at him. Another whiplash to add to the injury, a cruel pediment to the day.
This is the shortest chapter, sorry about that!
Anyways hope you liked it...Review? It will help me improve! ;D