Work Text:
Uther Pendragon had reason to worry. The future of Camelot was at stake. To the king's dismay, young prince Arthur was not meeting his expectations.
Uther first grew worried when he watched his lone heir lose challenge to 'a girl.' He later discovered that Arthur disobeyed his order and followed the 'girl,' Morgause, by climbing out his chambers' window, like a child. Afterwards, his son displayed treasonous poor judgment, by trying to kill him. The final straw, Uther watched the prince become enraged to tears then be manipulated and dissuaded, by a servant. Not the actions of a man fit to inherit his kingdom. The fate of Camelot compelled Uther to seek an extreme counsel.
Dungeon guards jumped to attention as the king whirled passed them and continued deep below. Uther then bellowed like a bull from the caverns' ledge. "I haven't suffered your existence these past twenty years for no reason! You swore that when my son becomes of age, you will reveal to me his destiny! That was the bargain in exchange for your life!"
"And so it was," the great dragon replied, in his slothful perch. He remained lazed to show his lack of respect for the current king of Camelot. Equally apathetic, he yawned out, "but that knowledge is all that keeps me alive."
"You will continue to live. And long after you've given me this information," Uther promised, and with a bit less antagonism in his tone.
The old dragon sighed at his words. "A promise from you, Uther Pendragon, is but dust in the wind."
"Then, let me reassure you," he bellowed, again. "With no food, you soon will become the same!" A promise that he surely would keep, he swirled around, now leaving.
"Wait." Kilgharrah rose quickly.
Uther stopped and nodded to himself, victorious. His back to the dragon, he demanded, "My son's destiny! Tell me! Will he be man enough to rule my kingdom or must I seek a successor, elsewhere?"
The mighty dragon glared down at the small and aging shoulders. One cynical snort from his nostrils could incinerate his archenemy. Instead, he cursed the day that Balinor commanded him to surrender. Killing the king, Kilgharrah knew, would bring retribution from his son. By the prince's command, he still would be starved to death. And dead, what freedom could any warlock accord him. Overly congenial, he asked, "let us strike another bargain?"
"No more bargains," Uther shouted as he turned again to face him. "Tell me! Or, I will make this cave your tomb!"
"Perhaps, the knowledge that sorcery resides in your very castle will extend my life," Kilgharrah offered, preparing to bargain Morgana, first.
Uther shrewdly countered his offer. "Do you mean my son's manservant," he asked, then he smiled that the old dragon's stunned eyes confirmed his suspicion. A mysterious sword, perfectly balanced and seemed to sing with magic left him wondering but the sword had disappeared as mysteriously as it had arrived. Disguising the fact that he had no evidence, Uther woofed, "I will suffer him as I have suffered you! There is nothing left to bargain! Tell me my son's destiny!"
Kilgharrah thought desperately on another way to extend his life. For one more year, anyway. By then, the bungling young warlock, if still alive, should have fulfilled his promise to free him. With his best bluff, he replied, "In pieces!" He gave his own ultimatum. "In pieces, I will reveal the information you seek! Take my offer or commence with my starvation and learn nothing from me!"
Uther stared at the trapped and chained creature while thinking how bold. He turned his back again to contemplate his situation. The future of Camelot, the Pendragon dynasty, his legacy, all, rested upon his decision. Concluding it imperative to know if his son was man enough to be king, he turned to face Kilgharrah, again. "Alright, dragon," he conceded. "In pieces. But you will tell me all!"
Their new bargain struck, Kilgharrah smiled then pressed his luck. "I believe this is cause for a feast," he said. "In addition to my usual scrawny pig and hay, I wish three plump cows and a couple of goats, today. Tomorrow, I will reveal to you your son's queen and his offspring."
"Very well, dragon. Tomorrow."
"You lie! Not Morgana's maidservant!" Uther shouted again at the large and scaly reptile. "My son will never marry that peasant! I will see her hanged, first!"
Kilgharrah smirked, amused to torment his captor. "If only that would solve your problem," he said.
"What problem," he demanded, although wary and distressed to hear more.
"The maidservant, Guinevere, will be a strong and dutiful queen, adored by all her people, but her heart always will belong to the young knight whom you stripped of his honor and turned from your court. The warrior, Lancelot. She will bear your son no offspring."
"All the more reason to kill the wench!"
"The fault will not belong to her."
Guilt struck Uther like a sharp and sudden pain. If the fault belonged to Arthur, he would blame himself for the witchcraft used to conceive his son. He turned from the dragon to hide his fear and shame. Only with his back to Kilgharrah could he brave to hear the answer as he asked, "Do you imply that my son is incapable of siring an heir?"
Kilgharrah took exceptional delight in his answer. "Not with whom he will choose to share his bed."
Uther whirled and stared at the large aberration. "What are you saying, dragon," he demanded. "My son will marry this serving wench but be in love with someone else?"
"Indeed, he will," Kilgharrah answered then flew toward the cave's top. Laughing ecstatically, he answered, "It is the male witch. Merlin."
"Nooo!" The word echoed through the caverns and returned to Uther, tenfold.
Arthur tried not to make it a habit, like Merlin requested. However, their first true melding instigated by Kilgharrah only weeks before left Arthur craving the fantastic feel of his manservant. Searching for Merlin, Arthur entered his chambers and found him sitting on the floor while shining a row of his boots. "Ah, Merlin, there you are. I've been looking for you," he greeted, joyfully.
Far from joy, Merlin felt his soul in ruin. He had just held a Viking's funeral for the first love of his young life. Freya was dead. Forcing conversation, he replied, "Um, right, um, you're going to ask me to polish your armor and wash your clothes and clean your room."
Arthur grew alarmed to see him so devastated. He sat on the floor beside him. Far more than his manservant, now, Merlin had become his most cherished companion, and he asked, "Something has been upsetting you, hasn't it?" After a playful effort to lift Merlin's spirits including a lighthearted headlock, Arthur realized that he had failed. Rising, he repeated, "you need to polish my armor, wash my clothes and clean my room." He expected the chores to keep Merlin busy all evening. With Merlin occupied, he quickly left, seeking Gaius.
"This is disgusting."
"I'm sorry, Prince Arthur." Gaius apologized, although he continued to carry an incredulous smile along with a bucket of soapy water up the steps to Merlin's room. "But you did request yourself to be prepared."
"Still, it's humbling to think that Merlin has been enduring this for me," he admitted as his voice drifted from behind the support beam. Seated on a closestool while frowning, he asked, "Will I ever stop… excreting?"
"Eventually, sire. A thorough clyster tends to have that effect," Gaius answered while struggling not to laugh. He managed a straight face just seconds before he placed the bucket near the beam. "I brought you some water to wash up, afterward."
"Thank you, Gaius," he said, grateful for his professionalism. "You can rest assured that I now have a greater respect for all that Merlin does for me." However, he quickly added, "if you ever tell him I said that, I'll have you in the stocks. Oh, and Gaius, not a word of this to him, either. Simply say that I order him to undergo this same repulsive procedure." His hopes to cheer Merlin by allowing him a 'fantastic experience,' too, painted a portrait Arthur chose not to share with the old man. Besides, the enema, itself, was portrait enough.
Uther sat up in bed, unable to sleep. The first pieces of his son's destiny rendered him an angry wreck. He snarled, "I don't need a sleeping draft," as he smacked the vial from Gaius' hand and sent it flying across the room, broken into a thousand pieces on the concrete floor. "Since you claim ignorance of my son's whereabouts all evening and imply that my guards lie to me, fetch Arthur to my chambers."
"But sire," he protested, and in an innocent voice. "I'm sure that he's already retired for the night."
"I didn't ask you," Uther stopped mid-shout then shrewdly commanded, "In that case, send his manservant to me. Has he retired, as well?"
"Merlin," he asked, and he sought now to sound confused. "I left him snoring in his room when I came to tend you." He blatantly lied to the king.
Uther sighed, "Very well." Somewhat relieved to hear that the two slept in separate quarters, he reclined for sleep. "Bring me a sleeping draft," he ordered.
Hours later and in a fitful slumber, Uther heard the clacking steel of his knights, training below his window. Unusual that he should sleep so late, he thought, and he rose to look out. Through ground clouds, he saw only glimpses of the men. In training formation, they now appeared to practice their parries and ripostes.
Where is Arthur, Uther asked himself, when suddenly he gaped. For some unearthly reason, a tall sandy-haired woman commanded the field. Dress in what could only be described as a pink tutu and pink pointe shoes, she pirouetted between the knights with her elegant outstretched arms waving to orchestrate the training rhythm. The ground clouds cleared enough to show her face.
Arthur!
Uther woke with a jolt so powerful that he tumbled out of bed.
Merlin slowly opened his eyes to the early dawn's light. Warm and cozy beneath the velvet duvet, he lingered a moment while smiling to remember the night. He felt that his spirits had been lifted considerably. Half-sprawled upon Arthur's back, he thought that Arthur had been right. Never would he tell Arthur, but his first true sexual experience had been absolutely fantastic. Not in his lifetime had he thought Arthur would give himself so freely and to his lowly manservant. Gingerly rising, Merlin sprayed tender kisses to his temple in gratitude. An unexpected wrestling maneuver landed him flat on his back. Before he had time to react, Arthur pinned his arms to the bed while straddling him. In his terse and authoritative voice, he teased, "I gave you no permission to leave."
"Sorry, my lord," he parried with his own subtle sarcasm.
"You will be," Arthur threatened through his laughter. Stronger and heavier, he physically manhandled Merlin. Not to be outdone, Merlin physically manhandled him, too. After a fierce but playful struggle to flow their adrenalin, Arthur ravenously took what Merlin savagely gave. Reciprocating with hands, between clenched buttocks and squeezed thighs until completely exhausting their youthful vigor, Merlin collapsed half-sprawled upon Arthur's back, again. They drifted, oblivious to the day's duties, chores and responsibilities.
Uther had not seen his son all day. After court council, he went in search of him. When he unlocked Arthur's door, he gaped again then quickly locked it back. He then stormed through his castle and down into the deep dungeons. From the ledge, he shouted, "That male witch has beguiled my son! I will not see Arthur behave as a woman! In a dream or otherwise! Will the spell be broken once I've chopped off that witch's head?"
Kilgharrah cautioned the king while concealing his panic. If Merlin died, so would his bargain for freedom. "There is no spell," he said. "Young Prince Arthur gives freely his love." He then warned Uther. "Kill the warlock and you destroy your son."
"Destroy my son," he demanded. "What madness, you speak?"
"Heed my words," Kilgharrah cautioned. "Kill the future dragon lord and Arthur will never succeed. Their destinies are entwined." Enough revealed, Kilgharrah flew from Uther, leaving him shouting toward the cave's top. "What destinies? Succeed? Entwined? DRAGON LORD?"
"In pieces, Uther Pendragon. In pieces," Kilgharrah said as he disappeared from sight.
Merlin began to wonder if his constant lies about his magic now played tricks on his mind. It seemed, each time that he found himself in the king's presence --at a banquet, a court council or to serve at the main dinner table-- Uther would gaze upon him as if lost deep in thought. So often, it started to worry Merlin.
Thinking it even stranger, Merlin furrowed to see the two guards posted just outside his door, one afternoon. His concerns were confirmed soon after he entered his door. However, other thoughts currently consumed his cheerful mind and he blushed as he said, "Gaius, Arthur wants you to teach me how to prepare clysters so that I can administer them in his chambers. He's concerned that coming here so often might arouse suspicion,"
"Merlin," he interrupted, somberly, while walking slowly toward him.
Obvious to Merlin, the old man's face bore him no good news. "What's wrong," he uttered.
"I am so sorry, Merlin. You've been like a son to me. If there were any godly way that I could change what I must tell you, I would."
"Gaius, please," he whispered in efforts to rein back the fear in his voice.
"Merlin," he sadly sighed. "The king has banished you from Camelot."
Eyes widening to comprehend, Merlin stared at him with his thoughts racing to find a reason. Suddenly, he grew angry, and he demanded, "this is about Arthur, isn't it! Uther is banishing me for getting too close to his son!"
"Merlin, please, I know you're upset,"
"Damn the nobility with their accepted practices," he cursed them while trying not to shout. Angered by the love loss, he cursed them, again. "Damn them! They think it's alright to bed the lowly manservant but never develop feelings for him!"
Gaius raised his voice to get his attention. "Merlin," he shouted. Then, bluntly he said, "Uther knows about your magic."
The blunt statement worked. It sent Merlin off-balance, and he stepped backward in his shock. Turning a ghostly shade of pale, he uttered, "How?"
"I don't know," Gaius admitted but then surmised, "I've often warned you of your carelessness. Uther came to see me, today. He said, normally he'd have your head, but it would be a strange contradiction in you to save the prince from a flying dagger yet be a threat. So, he's banishing you from his kingdom, never to return."
Merlin started to pace while shaking his head. "No, no, no. That doesn't sound like Uther. He'd never tolerate magic. Something else must be keeping me alive. Or someone." Abruptly, he turned toward the door, ready to rush out as he proclaimed, "Arthur!"
Gaius grabbed him by his arm. "Merlin, no," he insisted. "Arthur knows nothing of your magic. Uther demands that you keep it that way in exchange for your life or he'll appear weak concerning sorcery."
"But Gaius, I must speak to him," he pleaded while trying to pull away.
Gaius tightened his grip. "You can't," he said. "Guards have already been posted. If you step one foot off this hallway again, unaccompanied, Uther will rescind his clemency."
Merlin's eyes welled as he swayed in indecision. Finally, he uttered, "this is about Arthur, after all." He then went to the nearest chair and slumped into it. "I'm not allowed to see him again, or even say goodbye." Fighting tears, he begged to understand. "But why not just kill me to keep us apart? Why am I allowed to live? And what life is there, without Arthur in it?"
Gaius went to him and tenderly held his head against his aged, fatherly chest. "Take what Uther offers, my son. Save yourself. Ealdor and your mother will be happy to welcome you home. As for Arthur, I'm now certain that destiny will converge your paths, again." Fighting tears, too, Gaius kissed his hair.
"Is my manservant ill?"
Arthur asked the nervous young squire who fetched his breakfast and now helped dress him into his armor. The boy managed to speak through his jitters. "I don't know, my lord," he said. "I was told simply to report to you, this morning."
"Very well," he replied and with a gracious head nod to help calm the jittery boy's fears. He knew the young squire held no other information.
During training, Arthur often looked about for Merlin, then, at court council. As the council adjourned, Uther leaned in his chair toward Arthur and casually mentioned, "Gaius informed me that he no longer requires an assistant and that your manservant will be leaving Camelot, today. I've taken the liberty to select you another. Oswald has been a loyal subject in Camelot's court for over forty years, now. He's well aware of your needs."
Arthur held his tongue, choosing to say little until he had an opportunity to speak with Merlin. "I see," he said, while slowly standing. "Well, Merlin has been a faithful servant," he added and with pretense to accept his father's decision. "If he hasn't gone already, perhaps I should say a few words of goodbye."
In his father's eyes, Arthur failed miserably in his pretense at a casual and unhurried stride to leave the court.
Two guards that Arthur had not posted outside the physician's door caused him to raise a curious brow. He then rushed inside but saw only Gaius. "Where's Merlin," he demanded in his anxiety.
Gaius remained in his chambers most of the day, saying his goodbyes to Merlin while expecting Arthur to come. "Sire," he said calmly, with efforts to calm Arthur, as well. "I'm sure that you've been told that I no longer require an assistant. However, I won't lie to you. Merlin has been banished from the kingdom."
Arthur felt his anxiety spiraling downward into anger. "This is all my father's doing," he declared, in his angry spiral. "He's discovered my affection!"
"But you must let Merlin go or cause his death."
"Then, Merlin is still here," he deduced from his statement.
Gaius nodded toward the closed door above the steps, but Arthur already was rushing toward them.
Merlin had his few belongings laid out on his bed. He sorted through what he could carry and what he must leave. He heard his door open but he never looked around as he spoke, "I heard you talking to Gaius, outside."
Arthur could hear the tremble in his voice and he knew that it accompanied tears. He walked up behind Merlin and wrapped his arms around his waist. Heeding Gaius' warning to let him go, he forced a smile for them both as he said, "Ealdor isn't so far."
"But if the king should discover," he asked the logic of his reasoning.
Arthur would not be dissuaded. "Then, I'll set you up, elsewhere," he insisted. "In Olaf's court! And come to you, there!"
"With an occasional visit to relieve your stress," he uttered.
Arthur cringed from the sting. "I know you say these words to hurt me, that I not risk my father's retribution upon your village, you or even myself." He gripped Merlin tighter and rested his forehead against his hair. "If that is your wish, I will try to honor it. But please, find no fault in me, if I can't."
"Always the prat," he replied with a familiar joke to ease their agony.
Arthur retorted through another forced laugh. "And you, forever insolent." He stood a moment longer, holding Merlin close and breathing him in. Finally, he said, "well," in efforts to regroup. "A fire burns in the citadel of Idirsholas. I've been ordered to gather the knights and investigate." Still seeking some measure of continuance, he suggested, "Finish your packing and ride with us. If the fire proves nothing, I'll accompany you home. That should afford us more time together, to decide. Father can't justifiably reproach me for escorting an exile from his kingdom."
Uther woke from the sleeping curse crippling Camelot just in time to watch Morgause whisk Morgana away in a cloud of sorcerous debris. In their wake, Merlin stood, somehow to blame. Filled with grief, fear and anger, Uther stormed through his castle and back into the dungeons. Again, he bellowed from the ledge. "I heeded your words to spare this warlock and I cast him from my kingdom! But he comes back, like vomit! What destiny does my son share with this insidious sorcerer?"
"As we agreed," Kilgharrah nodded, now anxious to give Uther the information that he sought. He knew that Merlin was coming to free him in a matter of hours. "I will uphold our bargain and retain my honor, unlike you, Uther Pendragon, who has whored yours more than the lowest wench."
"Careful, dragon."
Kilgharrah threw all caution to the wind. Rising tall to tower over Uther, he spewed twenty years of hate and anger. "Your legacy is but pain, death and destruction to all those who possess magic," he snarled. "Yet, you have an heir by what you condemn. That is the guilt that maddens you, along with your sacrificed wife!"
"I've warned you!"
"But Ygraine's sacrifice will not be in vain. Her son will far surpass the worthless father. King Arthur will nullify your legacy and restore magic to your kingdom! With the dragonlord at his side to protect him, he will unite and rule all of Albion. The lands will flourish under his reign.
All the while, Uther staggered backward, stumbling, and landed on his buttocks from the riled dragon.
Kilgharrah continued his forceful words as if they, alone, could incinerate him. "Man enough to rule your kingdom, you ask! Centuries after his death, Arthur still will be proclaimed the greatest king of all the lands!" The mighty dragon then flew from his adversary, ready to take his vengeance the moment that Merlin freed him.
Uther stood in his chambers' window and watched as Arthur and Merlin returned from battling the great dragon. Seeing them walk in together, side-by-side, then seeing Guinevere rush toward Arthur, he turned away and closed his window. Like any parent, he knew that he had to let his son live his life and make what mistakes he would in his love, his marriage and in securing an heir, like he had done. Uther prayed the best for Arthur while silently accepting his son's destiny.