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1.
Even after all this time, Arthur hadn't expected sorcery.
His father saw sorcery in every corner. Arthur saw honourable opponents. If that were a reflection on each man's dealings in the world, Arthur tried not to consider it too carefully.
He woke that morning (was it morning? Difficult to say in his windowless cell) to the sound of dripping water. Drip. Drip. Drip. He'd been ready to call for Merlin to come fix that damned leak when he noticed the throbbing in his head. When he opened his eyes, he knew right away he was not in Camelot.
"Good morning, Prince Arthur," he heard, even as he struggled to keep his eyes open against the pain in his temples. A face swam before him; he did not recognise it.
"Who are you?" Arthur pulled himself to a seated position. He was on a low bunk in a windowless, dank room. The drips that woke him came from a corner in the low ceiling, running watery trails down rough-hewed stone into a puddle.
The man before him was older than Arthur, but not as old as his father. A crown of strange metal lay upon on his dark head, and his cloth was fine over his broad-shouldered frame.
"I am Rience," the man said, sketching a bow.
Arthur groaned. Rience ruled over a large kingdom and many isles in the North. He was long a threat to Camelot and her allies.
"It was very good of you," Rience continued, "to veer so far off course during your patrol."
Arthur rubbed his hand over his eyes. He and his knights had not left Camelot's borders, but they had got closer to the border of Alined's kingdom than was their norm. They had been pursuing...something. Arthur couldn't remember what.
"Mind you," Rience added. "It was also good of you to live up to your reputation, to pursue the beast that had been troubling your outlying villages."
Oh yes. An image of a gruesome, hoofed creature materialized behind his eyes. They had met a villager on the road, a baby on each hip. Her torn bodice had dripped blood. The babies had been screaming; the woman, mute from shock. Of course Arthur had pursued the monster. It was what he did.
"How did you know?" Arthur asked.
Rience smiled. "I sent it, of course."
7.
Arthur was grateful for one thing: that Merlin hadn't been with him on patrol. Uther's manservant was down with an ague, and Uther had commanded Merlin to attend him until he recovered. When Arthur rode out from Camelot, he had seen Merlin's nervous, miserable expression from an open window atop the courtyard. But a nervous, miserable Merlin was preferable to a dead one, which he would have been had Merlin been with them when Rience's beast had attacked.
As much as it pained Arthur to admit it, he couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to Merlin because of him. The knights with him came into his service knowing they may well die for him. Merlin had no such obligation, no matter how much he seemed determined to take it on anyway.
They had been lucky so far, but for how long could luck hold out when magic was so devious and Merlin so hapless?
2.
Rience had not been invited to the Summit of the Five Kings held last midsummer in Camelot. It was commonly held that Rience supported sorcery, and Uther Pendragon would not have his kind within Camelot's walls. No matter how lucrative his offerings, nor how strategic his kingdom's geography.
"My father does not ally himself with friends of sorcerers, Rience," Arthur pointed out that evening as they dined. Prisoner or not, Arthur was Crown Prince. He had been brought a bath, and fresh clothing. He sat in a place of honour at Rience's table. "Using sorcery in revenge will hardly endear you to him."
"I do not wish to be endeared to your father, little Prince," Rience replied. "And were he so against sorcerers, I wonder how it was that Alined and his jester were welcomed to Camelot's court?"
"Trickler? He was hardly a sorcerer," Arthur scoffed. "Sleight of hand and illusions. Certainly nothing like conjuring a beast to terrorise Camelot's villages."
"Indeed."
"Will be ransom, then, Rience? How much do you wager a Crown Prince is worth?"
"5,000 gold bars," Rience drawled. "But that is little enough compared to what I will be getting, of course."
"Which is?"
5.
Two guards had brought Arthur to dinner that evening, but it took four to return him to his cell once he had heard Rience's plans.
3.
"They'll never see what kills them," Rience drawled, gesturing widely with his goblet. "Sorcery is so useful in that way."
Arthur's blood became ice in his veins.
"Fortunately," Rience continued, "we'll be able to witness the whole thing. Gwydion, attend me!"
4.
Gwydion was Rience's sorcerer, and a powerful one from what Arthur could tell. He had conjured the horrible, hoofed beast for the sole purpose of killing his knights and trapping Arthur.
Gwydion was a strange man. He clearly served Rience, that much was apparent, but he didn't show the great king any reverence that Arthur could see. He supposed a king like Rience didn't inspire loyalty, even from a sorcerer. He wondered if sorcerers were even capable of loyalty to a sovereign, or if they were simply a law unto themselves. What would a sorcerer's reverence, his loyalty, look like? Was it ridiculous, a jester chained behind a horse? Or was it sneering, and changing with the wind?
Gwydion also had in his possession a crystal. On Rience's command, he drew it from the folds of his robes. It was large and rough but for one smoothly polished surface.
"I rather thought you would be impressed, Prince Arthur," Rience taunted. "Does Camelot not possess one of these beauties itself?"
"We do," Arthur said, shortly. He did not add that its mysteries eluded Camelot's king.
"So few of them remain," Rience said, affecting an air of sadness. "There were once hundreds of these, you know, used throughout Albion to guide the decisions of kings and kingmakers. They were said to come from a great cave paved with crystals."
Arthur feigned indifference.
"Even fewer still know how to use them," Rience added. "Fortunately for us, Gwydion can. Would you like to see?"
9.
Arthur saw two things in the crystal that evening.
First, he saw that his father had indeed sent some fifty knights and five hundred foot soldiers a day behind the ransom bearers, all of whom were walking into Rience's trap.
Second, he saw that Merlin was a complete idiot.
8.
Rience had laughed when he had seen the ransom party.
"Two knights, and a buffoon! Your servant, is he not?" He chortled and chucked Arthur under the chin. "It's a good thing we've been able to see the full measure of your father's affection for you in that army he sends, otherwise, I might be temped to find a better use for you here with me."
Arthur kept his features stoic, but inside he was fuming. Of course Merlin would have to involve himself. Why could he not stay in Camelot and weave rushes or muck out stables like any decent servant? Instead, there he was, riding even with his knights and a horse carrying a prince's ransom in gold. He didn't even have a sword.
11.
Arthur spent the second full day of his captivity alone in his cell. He had stopped pacing when he saw how it amused the guards. Instead, he sat with his back to them while he churned over the danger Camelot was in, and Merlin's stupidity on insisting he accompany the ransom party. He harboured no illusions that Merlin's attendance had been anyone else's idea. Leon would certainly never have suggested it, nor Gawain.
10.
"Your ransom may be a bit late, I fear," Rience announced when Arthur was brought to dine once more.
Arthur didn't reply.
"Show him, Gwydion," Rience said.
Gwydion's gnarled hands shoved the crystal beneath his nose. Another hand, stronger than it should have been, rested in his hair, preventing him from turning away.
Arthur watched as Gawain was hit with arrows from an unseen crossbow. He flinched as blood seeped from the wounds, as Gawain bravely tried to remain upright. He saw Merlin arguing with Leon, gesturing first to Leon's horse, then to the south. Scrying offered no sound, but Arthur could hear Merlin's arguments in his mind. He was surely telling Leon to take Gawain and join the army so that Gawain could be borne back to Camelot and to Gaius. Merlin would stay with the ransom and wait for Leon to return.
"It seems your servant is all alone, now." Rience's chair scraped as he pushed it back from the table. "How long do you think he will last?"
Arthur wished for something much stronger than ale.
12.
A few hours later, Arthur was forced to watch three of Rience's knights close in around Merlin as he sat silently by his fire. He closed his eyes, a wild grief forming within him, when Rience's angry cry had him looking again.
Within the crystal, Merlin's eyes flashed gold. Rience's knights flew into the trees, bodies crumpling to the ground. No one had touched them.
The table fell silent.
"Well, this is unexpected." Rience said, finally.
Arthur didn't answer. He could barely breathe, his relief warring with betrayal. Merlin, a sorcerer? He had seen it with his own eyes within the crystal. Unless, of course...
"You think you can manipulate me?" Arthur spoke for the first time in hours. "By showing me things that are not real?"
"Oh, it was real enough, Arthur, I promise you that." Rience bit into a grape, still on the vine. Juice ran down his chin. "At least your father won't have to worry about a trial and an execution. He won't make it back alive from here, anyway, even if you do."
"I don't know about that. It appears your men are no threat to my...to Merlin," Arthur stated, flatly. He was about to say my manservant, but he couldn't call Merlin that. Not after what he had seen.
Arthur found that a great deal of things surrounding Merlin suddenly made sense. There were days, before the dragon, where Arthur had wished to know what secrets Merlin kept. Had tried to prise them out of him, with insult and barb, with affection and wheedling and manhandling. Had thought he'd made some progress; had wondered more than once why he even cared.
Now, he wished he didn't.
"No, indeed. It seems he will storm this very fortress with little more than the cloth upon his back. But I was referring to you, Prince Arthur. I can't imagine you'll let him live even if he should manage to rescue you, eh, Gwydion?"
Gwydion, seated to the king's left, merely grunted a few words of gibberish over the crystal, and handed it to Arthur. Arthur didn't take it.
"Come, Prince Arthur," Rience cajoled. "It will be another long, sleepless night for you, I imagine. Take it. It will keep you entertained."
14.
Arthur curled in on himself, pressed against his cell wall. Behind his closed eyelids, Merlin died a hundred times over. His head rolled across the courtyard again and again. Sometimes Arthur wielded the axe himself. Other times, it was fire, Merlin shrieking as his flesh was singed. Other times still, it was cleaner: a hangman's noose, or a throat slit with a sword Arthur recognised too well.
It was all so vivid that more than once Arthur actually reached out to stop it, but each time he was too late.
13.
The sun was not yet peeking over the mountains when Arthur's resolve crumbled and he peered into the crystal again. It responded to him in a way no magic artefact had any business so doing. Another gift of the strange Gwydion, he supposed, as the mists swirled and took shape.
Merlin sat again beside a fire, as sleepless and alone as Arthur himself. A blue ball of light hovered over his right hand; the Crystal of Neahtid gripped in his left. On its smooth surface, Arthur saw himself, holding his own crystal, watching Merlin watching him.
Merlin's gaze met Arthur's in the crystal, and Arthur's shock was mirrored in Merlin's eyes before the scene misted over. The jolt of connection, across many miles, had felt real enough. Arthur expected to see Merlin flee, away from the place where Arthur was imprisoned, away from the army of Camelot's knights and foot soldiers, each one sworn to stamp out Merlin's kind.
Instead, Arthur saw himself. He saw himself following a blue light to an unwatched passage. He watched as he slid from the unlocked--how?--cell, watched as he made his way from his prison and into the cool night air. He watched as he began sprinting south towards his father's army, toward freedom, toward Merlin's death.
On the surface of the crystal, the familiar ball of light drew Arthur ever closer to safety. He reached the army's encampment, where he stopped to retrieve a sword from the smithy's tent. Armed, he crept out into the woods until at last he stood before Merlin, a blue ball of light in his own hand that faded as Arthur approached.
Arthur held his breath as he watched. He was in his cell, so was this the future? Or a trick? What would his crystal self do when confronted with undeniable evidence that Merlin-- surprising, daft, lazy, loyal Merlin-- was the one thing Arthur was obligated to destroy?
The air in the cell felt oppressive, but Arthur could not bring himself to set aside the crystal. Instead, he watched as Merlin extended a shaking hand toward Arthur. Arthur didn't wait to discover if the hand meant to help or hinder. He twisted Merlin's arm tight into his back, had Merlin on his knees and grimacing against the sword at his throat.
The scene gave way to his father's face, and Arthur knew the expression. His father had just sentenced Merlin to death. He watched as flames started to lick at the pyre piled around Merlin's feet. He saw Gwen's cold stare, Gaius's despair, his father's righteous fury all swim before him, even as he watched Merlin's flesh blacken and curl away from his bones. Merlin never struggled.
Arthur hurled the crystal across his cell. He slid off his bunk onto his knees, and tried not to vomit.
16.
Arthur must have slept, because he woke to Gwydion looming over him.
"What do you want?" Arthur croaked.
Gwydion held the crystal out, again, towards Arthur. Arthur made no move to take it. He never wanted to see it again.
"Suit yourself," Gwydion said with a shrug. "But there is more you should see."
Arthur frowned. "I've seen quite enough."
Gwydion laughed, and for the first time Arthur looked at his face closely. He was a strange man, to be sure, but his eyes reminded him of Gaius'. Odd. "I think you haven't seen nearly enough."
"Stop speaking in riddles and tell me what you're on about."
"These crystals are powerful. More powerful than your father or you realised, else you would have destroyed it rather than lock it away. More powerful than Rience knows. After all, look what it can do in the wrong hands."
Arthur said nothing.
"It can show you anything, and you never know if what it shows you is the truth, for there is no truth yet written. Only possibilities, something which Rience never understood and I stopped trying to teach him. Your servant may be a sorcerer, or he may not be. You may arrange for his death, or you might not. The crystal doesn't know. It is not a living thing. It can only reflect."
Again, Arthur made no response. He wished Gwydion would arrive at his point.
"For it to show you what you saw, you must have already known."
Arthur shook his head against the sorcerer's words. He lied, just as Merlin lied.
"Look at the crystal again, Arthur Pendragon. Look into it as many times as you must." Gwydion left the crystal on Arthur's bunk before leaving his cell.
15.
Not long ago, Arthur had left Merlin alone to guard a crystal much like the one that mocked him from across his cell. Had thought nothing of it as he took his well-earned rest. When he had woken, Merlin's face had been wan and his eyes despondent. Arthur had thought that his displeasure over the crystal's theft had upset Merlin; he cursed himself for that vanity now.
Arthur wondered the crystal had shown Merlin to put that expression on his face. It was guilt, and horror, and Arthur knew of many things a sorcerer might do to warrant those emotions. Arthur cast his mind back to the many misfortunes that had befallen Camelot since Merlin's arrival. Which did Merlin cause? Which should Arthur blame himself for, for not realising what Merlin was?
17.
He didn't look at it again that morning. Arthur recalled Gwydion's words throughout a silent luncheon, in which Rience tried to goad him about having harboured a sorcerer in his own household. With every hour Arthur passed trapped in this castle, he grew more concerned. Even if the fate of a sorcerer--of Merlin did not concern him (and if he were truthful with himself, of course it did), he worried for the knights and soldiers readying for battle in his wake.
He didn't think Merlin would harm them. Really, the thought of Merlin harming anyone alone was so preposterous that half the time, Arthur was able to convince himself it was all a trick of the crystal. Rience, though, had ordered his army to muster, once he had seen that his attempts to kill the ransom party, make off with the gold and send a magical beast after Camelot's army would likely not work.
His alternate plan, it seemed, was to ride out to meet Camelot in war, rather than lay in wait for them here. While Camelot had greater numbers, Rience would have the advantage of surprise. The fact that he could use the crystal to make Arthur watch it happen seemed to cheer him all the more.
20.
Arthur was on his seventeenth recitation of the Knight's Code when his cell suddenly took on an eerie, bluish cast.
A blue ball of light was floating in the middle of his cell. It drifted away, through the bars of the door and down the corridor, pausing as if waiting for Arthur.
When Arthur reflexively went to pull at the door, it opened as easily as he'd known it would. Even though he'd watched the guards lock it himself. Arthur was free to follow the light through the castle, to the unguarded gate, into the open air. He met no resistance.
Arthur knew this light. It had saved him before. He had wondered at its source, back then, but hadn't questioned help where he could find it. It seemed his younger self had more wisdom than he had known. Now, this light would help him save not only himself, but Camelot's men, if Arthur could get there in time to warn them.
He sprinted through the woods as he'd seen himself do in the crystal, detouring around the valley where he knew Rience's men rested in advance of their ambush. Arthur gave thanks for Rience's loose tongue as he darted around tree after tree until, at last, he stumbled upon Sir Bors and Sir Caradoc standing watch. They greeted him with loud shouts and great joy, but Arthur paid it no mind. He bade them to spread word of Rience's impending ambush, and rushed into the camp. He took a sword from the smithy's pile before heading toward the woods where he knew Merlin was hiding. Waiting.
18.
That night, Gwydion again left the crystal. If he was fortunate, the sorcerer told Arthur, he might get to witness Rience's massacre of Camelot's army as it happened.
"Or not," he added. "You know how crystals are."
Arthur could not help himself from using the crystal again. If nothing else, he hoped he might see Merlin kill one of Camelot's soldiers, or aid an enemy, or do something, anything, that would make it easier for Arthur to condemn him to the pyre. He gripped the crystal firmly, ignoring the tremor in his hand, and took a deep breath.
When it came, the scene began much as the previous one had. Arthur saw himself again flee his cell, following a blue ball of light. He saw himself reach the army's encampment, again picking up a sword before slipping back into the woods. He saw himself find Merlin, alone in the clearing, a ball of blue light hovering before him, and a crystal at his feet. His face was wet, and again, he extended a shaking hand toward Arthur.
The scene seemed frozen for long minutes, while Arthur and Merlin stared at each other in silence.
Arthur must have said something, for Merlin frowned in confusion. Arthur held his breath as he saw himself grab Merlin's outstretched hand and use it to pull Merlin close. He pressed his face against Merlin's hair, and whispered something that made Merlin struggle until Arthur grinned and pulled on one of Merlin's ears. Suddenly Merlin was crying--of course he was, he was no knight--crying but also hiccuping with laughter, while Arthur cradled Merlin's head down against his shoulder and rubbed his bare hand over Merlin's back.
It wasn't the terror of a man condemned. It was relief, and it was mixed with Arthur's own as he saw himself press a kiss to Merlin's forehead. Merlin pulled away at that, as far as Arthur would let him so he could look Arthur in the eyes. He looked both indignant and ecstatic, in a way only Merlin could, and Arthur responded by bring his hands to rest on Merlin's shoulders. When their lips finally met, Arthur had already known it would happen. For a moment, he wondered if there were ever a time he hadn't known it would happen.
He didn't need the crystal to show him what happened next, to show him all the ways Merlin's body could be fitted to his own. He had imagination enough for that. He didn't need the crystal to show him the loyalty in Merlin's eyes when he left a lingering kiss on Arthur's ring. His earlier question was answered: a sorcerer's reverence for a sovereign gleamed golden at the edges. It looked like well-polished armour, and gently mocking smiles. It made lightning dance into the encampment where Rience's men lay in wait for Camelot's army.
The mists swirled over the surface of the crystal again. Arthur saw himself as King, Guinevere and Merlin sat on either side, each as the sun and the moon to Arthur's land, each as vital to Camelot--to him--as the other.
He saw Merlin stick his tongue out at Arthur in full view of the court. It made Sir Leon laugh, and Sir Bors scowl, and Arthur realised they all sat together at a table as round as the bulls-eyes he made Merlin set up for target practise. Sir Gawain was there, as well, and Lancelot, and if Merlin were an evil sorcerer, surely they would have all been dead at his hand by now?
He watched himself glare at Merlin and Merlin roll his eyes in response. He watched as Guinevere stifled a laugh, as she gazed at them both with an easy, indulgent sort of affection Arthur had never seen on her face before.
Arthur stared into the crystal long after it lay dormant, willing it to show him more, to help him understand.
19.
"Your servant is quite determined, is he not?" Rience asked him the following night, as they dined.
"How do you mean?" Arthur replied, around a mouthful of stringy boar. It aggravated him, breaking bread with his captors, but he knew he needed to maintain his energy.
"He defeated two enchantments, three more knights, and a cyclops. Oh, and he found your armour where we left it on the road. Repaired the dents and broken clasps himself. With magic, of course," Rience pointed out with a sneer.
Arthur took a sip of his wine and shrugged in what he hoped was a convincing lack of concern. "He does care a lot about my armour," he maintained.
Rience huffed. "He must look forward to being able to place it on you again. A pity he'll last see it from afar when you preside over his execution."
Rience went on to regale him with everything from the position of his army to the many gruesome ways one might kill a sorcerer, but Arthur kept his silence for the remainder of the meal.
After Rience retired, Gwydion accompanied the guards that took Arthur back to his cell.
"I won't leave the crystal tonight," he said, following Arthur into the musty little room. "The king requires it this evening, in order to plan his attack on Camelot's army."
Arthur glared.
"You have no more need of it anyway. You already know what you need to know."
"And Rience doesn't?" Arthur bit out the question.
Gwydion's gaze was knowing. "No, Prince Arthur, Rience knows nothing that he needs to know."
"If that's the case, I doubt the crystal will help him," Arthur said.
A smile tugged at the corner of Gwydion's mouth. "Indeed."
Gwydion glided out of the cell, and looked back at Arthur through the bars of the door. "Farewell, Prince Arthur," he saluted him with the crystal. "I grow anxious to watch your choice."
With that, the strange Gwydion vanished.
6.
Arthur paced the length of his small cell several hundred times that evening, angry and not a small bit terrified for the knights and soldiers Uther would surely send behind the ransom-bearer. There was no way he would allow Rience to go unpunished for his actions. Forgiveness was not in his nature.
His father and Rience held that in common, apparently.
Arthur wondered if revenge was worth the deaths of good men. He wondered if wondering that made him weak.
21.
Merlin looked up as Arthur entered the clearing. A ball of blue light hovered before him, the Crystal of Neahtid lay at his feet. He looked at Arthur for a long moment, but made no move to explain.
"Arthur?" Merlin asked, carefully, extending a shaking hand. His eyes were wary, his jaw set with something heartbreaking and familiar now that Arthur knew to look for it. He had watched this scene play out already. He had to decide which one was true.
Arthur looked down at Merlin's hand, then at his borrowed sword. He couldn't grasp them both at once.
The sword fell from Arthur's grip, replaced by Merlin's hand in his.