by GR Griffin
Uther Pendragon gazed up form his paperwork, expression stern and cold. It was really pathetic how one menacing look from his father had the power to break an alarming amount of his resolve. Studying his son, clearly unimpressed with his messy appearance and simple attire, Uther frowned. Then, he set his attention back to the documents on the table.
“You know what will happen if they don’t move Arthur,” he said absently, and for a moment it sounded as if Uther was talking about what to have for dinner as opposed to people’s lives. A little disgusted at his blasé tone, Arthur narrowed his eyes, but said nothing.
“You have three more months….I don’t want to have to open fire on the druids.” Sighing, Uther put down his pen, casting his son a glance. “It looks bad on the company and the human race-”
The words were enough to spark the rage boiling inside Arthur. How dare his father cheapen the value or their homes, their lives-
“-They’re human too you know.” He spat maliciously, eyes dangerously blazing with a burnishing fire; the flames of justice and righteousness danced between his irises. Voice level and just as firm as his father’s, Arthur continued.
“They are just as human as you, and I.”
Blinking, Uther slowly stood from his seat. He took a few steps towards Arthur, scrutinising his complexion and face meticulously.
“They have indoctrinated you with their magical ideologies.” He stated, and Arthur could hear the accusation before it had even been spoken.
“No they haven’t. I’m merely seeing sense.” Arthur replied fiercely, receiving a confused and angered look from his father.
“Magic is evil and those who practice it-“
“-Those who practice magic are no different to us.” Arthur interjected, jabbing a finger towards his father. “We should evaluate how a druid uses their magic, never just that they do use it.”
Raising his eyebrows, Uther scoffed. The dismissal, the refusal to even listen to a different point of view infuriated Arthur. Clenching his fists, he inhaled a deep breath to try and compose himself.
“And who told you such nonsense?”
“Merlin.” Arthur retorted with equal bitterness dripping from his voice., unaware of how his father’s eyes flashed with something foreign. “I believe him-“
“-Do I need to reassign you elsewhere?”
The notion of being removed from Ealdor genuinely terrified Arthur. Even more so did the thought of his father sending someone ruthless and heartless like Valiant in exchange of his place to ensure the job was done. Merlin wouldn’t stand a chance against a brute like him. Sure he had magic, but Valiant was strong and forceful. He would do whatever necessary to ensure the druid’s moved. He’d never see his friends again, never see Merlin. They wouldn’t be safe- not that they were safe now, but they were far safer under Arthur Pendragon’s watch than they’d ever be.
“-NO!”
Eyes wide, Arthur reached out to his father urgently, gripping him by the shoulder. He prayed this frenzy was interpreted as the desire to complete the mission and please his father as opposed to the fear of losing new friends.
“Father.” He cleared his throat to avoid letting too much emotion seep through, releasing his father’s arm abruptly. “I assure you, that won’t be necessary.”
For a moment there was excruciating silence, it hovered around the room. Uther turned his back on Arthur, sitting back down on his chair. Arthur hadn’t established that his whole body was shaking, his heart racing until his father had begun reading over the documents again. This sudden panic that he could very well be reassigned, and lose all chance of saving Ealdor and the clan was overpowering. Gritting his teeth in anticipation, Arthur shut his eyes from a moment. The air was thick, crammed with tension. Finally, his father spoke from the chair.
“Three months left Arthur,” he mused, not looking up from his papers. “Get them out.”
♦☼♦
“Arthur,” the firm grim clasped his arm, tugging him violently into one of the small alcoves of the building. Meeting those determined eyes, Arthur frowned and released his arm. Patiently he waited for her words, knowing they would be laced in trouble and anxiety. “I think I’m onto something,” Morgana hissed, voice low as if she feared being heard.
“I’ve been closely monitoring the ammunition-”
“-As you should it’s your department.” Arthur bluntly stated, still unmoved and apathetic due to the meeting with his father. He now comprehended Morgana’s rage to the way Camelot spoke of druid’s. His father’s comments were outrageous, and completely discriminative. The raven-haired woman scowled at him, hoisting a blue folder in her hands into his vision. Opening it carefully, pulling on her chunky black glasses, she frowned as her fingers skimmed over a page.
“Valiant has secretly been ordering more stock than we need, far more. It’s, it’s tenfold to the quota we were given.”
Arthur didn’t even bother looking at the paper full of numbers in her hands. He rolled his eyes, prepared to walk away. This news was highly disturbing, and with everything slowly coming into motion, all Arthur wanted to do was leave this wretched place and indulge selfishly in the peaceful world of Ealdor.
“So he’s not good with numbers, doesn’t surprise me-”
Gritting her teeth, Morgana pulled him back fiercely, expression hardening; a constant reminder that she was one person you simply should not meddle with. She was highly unimpressed with his sarcastic comment.
“We’re not talking about guns and puny weapons. We’re talking about missiles, grenades…”
She thrust the paper into his hands, drinking in the alarmed look on his face as he read over the figures. Shit. Morgana was right. The weapons listed herewere hardly the ones requested for protection in the Albion forests, or to keep the Base secure. These weapons were dangerous, hazardous and demonstrated the dark power of humanity. Swallowing-hard, he met Morgana’s eyes over the paper. Returning the troubled gaze, she continued.
“…these figures, the very weapons themselves – Arthur!” she exclaimed. “It suggests that we’re about to go to war.”
Abruptly, Arthur changed persona, changed character almost. The anxious cloud around him morphed into blithe ignorance. His eyes lost their light, his body slumped. If anyone had observed him at this time, they would have assumed he simply didn’t care about these implications. However, deep inside Arthur was panicking. He was scared, terrified at the knowledge that Camelot Enterprise were harbouring these weapons in Albion. It intertwined all too well with his father’s words, and with the secret agenda. He pushed the paper back into Morgana’s hands, heading back onto the corridor silently. He could hear her following in desperation.
“This isn’t something you can just walk away from!” she cried, catching up to him swiftly. He ignored her words. He wanted to walk away from this, he wished he could run back to Ealdor and magic this whole thing away forever.
“Something Clandestine is going one here. We’ve got to get to the bottom of it.”
But Arthur already knew what was at the bottom of this cover-up: himself, his father and the secret agenda. Smiling sadly at this notion, Arthur raked a hand through his hair and pulled out the teleporting device from his pocket. Noticing the device, and the fact that Arthur was refusing to respond in any way, Morgana glowered. Leaning towards him, she poked his chest angrily.
“Don’t you care about the welfare of the Druids?”
“Of course I do Morgana.” He snapped back automatically, so rapid that it almost aroused suspicion within the woman. Arthur continued quickly, covering his tracks.
“But we’re not here to make friends and learn magic tricks.” But here he was, making friends and learning magic- if morgana only knew how much of a fucking hypocritical twat he sounded right now….Sighing laboriously, Arthur cast her a neutral look.
“We’re here to mine.” The teleporting device began to flash, indicating it had charged enough to be used. “Destiny Calls.” He gazed dow
n at the small device.
“You’re leaving again?” Morgana asked beside him, her anger and fury evapourated from the scene. She was too stunned to fully acknowledge the word ‘destiny’ and mock him for it.
“I’ll be back Morgana, I promise.” He replied, pressing down the teleport button. The last thing he heard sprout from her lips evoked a rare, raw smile and a pang of guilt.
“You better be! I can’t stand working with a giant, boorish pig.”
♦☼♦
Arthur was surprised that when he arrived back in Ealdor, Merlin was no-where to be found. He assumed the druid had duties to attend to as future leader of the clan. Perhaps he was speaking with his father; Merlin tended to do that a lot. The rules and conditions of Arthur’s stay had relaxed heavily since his lessons with Merlin. A vast majority of the people seemed to accept him and his friends with ease now. Walking through the bustling area, full of druids beginning their daily activities, Arthur felt a smile touch his lips. One of the druid children bashfully manoeuvred around him, eyes never leaving his face. Offering the child a smile, Arthur watched as she abruptly sped off towards Gwenevere. The woman caught the child in her arms, laughing softly. Her eyes met Arthur’s across the clearing. Then she turned to Lancelot who was standing beside her. Arthur watched the pair talking knowingly shooting his friend an amused grin. It wasn’t hard to notice the sparks flying between those two.
Arthur stood hesitantly in front of the entrance to a small alcove in one of the large trees. Dangling over the hollow were hand-made delicate beaded drapes, clearly to give the area privacy. He stepped through the drapes, leading him into the dimly lit area. The woman sitting on the floor looked up at him, a surprised smile on her face. Averting his eyes, Arthur cleared his throat.
“I’m sorry to bother you my lady,” he bowed courteously.
Reaching out her hands, Hunith responded in her soft, assuring voice.
“Come take a seat.”
Obediently, Arthur sat opposite her. He studied her warm face, meeting her eyes for a moment. Part of him was beginning to regret coming here to talk to Merlin’s mother. However, another part of him was bursting with anxiety, just wanting to talk to someone who wouldn’t be subjective towards his words. Titling her head, Hunith frowned.
“What is troubling you Arthur?”
Her voice was so reassuring, so mellow that Arthur would have spilt all of his secrets there and then if it weren’t for the small resolve still wavering inside of him. Sighing, he tried to form his words. Yes, Merlin had spoken to him about this before. But still, he felt something was not right here.
“I am able to practice magic.” He stated, lowering his gaze. “Yet nobody else from my world seems to.”
“In normal circumstances, one who doesn’t have magic in their blood does not have the ability to perform magic.” She replied rather vaguely.
“Then why is it that I can learn spells?” Arthur urgently asked, desperate for a precise answer.
Leaning over to hold one of his hands, she smiled gently. Instantly her actions soothed the building annoyance and fear inside of him. It all melted away into a void. No wonder Hunith was asked for so frequently by the druids- she really did have a special ability of compassion towards others, effortlessly consoling those who came for help or counsel.
“You are not a normal circumstance Arthur Pendragon.” She said, her smile bearing less kindness and more confusion. “You were destined for greatness, as is Merlin. You’re like two sides of the same coin.”
Two sides of the same coin.
If anybody other than Hunith had told him this, Arthur was sure he would have burst into laughter, mocking them instantly. Instead, these words spread through his body bringing with it curiosity and greater confusion than before. The druids did enjoy speaking in riddles. The atmosphere was so calm, so collected that Arthur felt this was the perfect opportunity to tell someone of the voice at night. Perhaps gaining another perspective would put his mind to rest. Drawing his eyebrows together, Arthur released her hand.
“I hear a voice at night, a woman’s voice. She calls my name. Last night I saw her but only in the distance of my mind. It’s like she’s…she’s trying to tell me something.” Absurd as he thought this sounded, Hunith’s startled and anxious expression suggested that this voice was more than a hallucination. She leant towards him.
“Have you told anybody about this?”
Shaking his head, Arthur grimaced.
“No. I just thought they were dreams.”
Raising her eyebrows at his words, she nodded in understanding. For a moment, both of them remained silent. Then, Hunith sighed in a fashion rather unlike her usual character, and spoke.
“You are in a sacred land Arthur Pendragon. The very ground on which we sit upon is full of magic and the thoughts of our ancestors.”
Processing her words slowly, Arthur narrowed his eyes. Was she implying that his woman was somehow part of his past? Part of him?
“I…It feels like someone I know, or once knew a long time ago.” He admitted, unable to describe the strange emotions that surfaced each time the woman had spoken in his mind. Hunith offered him a knowing smile.
“-Then Arthur-”
The drapes rustled violently and a figure traipsed in dramatically.
“-Mother I have had it up to here with William at the moment!” Merlin exclaimed, flailing his arms about in exasperation, clearly infuriated. “He’s gone chasing after a Wildren beast again. As usual, I’m going to have to be the one to get him and whoever he’s dragged along out of trou-” stopping abruptly mid-sentence, Merlin averted is gaze to the man sitting opposite his mother. Arthur seemed partly amused, partly distressed by Merlin’s sudden entrance. Sheepishly, Merlin lowered his arms from their dramatic pose, studying the man curiously.
“Arthur? What are you doing here?” he cast a look between his mother and Arthur suspiciously.
“I. I…” panic flared through Arthur. He couldn’t exactly tell Merlin he’d come to seek his mother’s help because he could do magic and was hearing voices in his head. This was a private, delicate matter, one he wasn’t prepared to share with anybody yet. “I…E-H-”
“-I wished to speak with him.” Hunith finished bluntly with confidence, and Arthur was unsure if he imagined the wink or not in his direction.
Gazing over to Arthur, who was unable to meet his eyes, Merlin frowned.
“What for?” he asked. It was unusual for his mother to request people; usually they requested her presence for guidance or help.
“It doesn’t concern you Merlin.” She said distantly, voice beginning to lack its usual steadiness.
Taking the hint, Merlin studied Arthur. His mother was lying, he knew that much. Whatever this was about, Arthur wasn’t ready to share it yet. The least he could do was respect his wishes and not mention this. Shrugging, Merlin felt the tension in the air clear as he changed the subject.
“Okay. Well I’m going to go and find where Will’s led his poor followers off to.” He retreated to the doorway, then turned around instinctively.
“Coming?”
Without hesitation, Arthur leapt to his feet, heart racing at the prospect of a new adventure. The pair of them shared a grin, and Arthur nodded. Perhaps gallivanting around the forest with Merlin would take his mind of his troubles. Merlin usually seemed to be the only thing able to ease his worry, allow him to live without constraints. As the left the small room, neither of them noticed Hunith’s inquisitive smile, or the way her eyes flickered with something the pair of them were unable to detect. If they had been less engaged with each other, and more attuned to their surroundings, perhaps they would have heard her quiet, hopeful mumblings.
“Two sides…Once and Future….Destiny.”
Chapter 22
Arthur was becoming increasingly uncomfortable with the part of the forest Merlin had led them to. The trees were much smaller, enclosed by the majestic giants that conquered the horizon. Moss covered
almost everything. The rocks were green; the trees were green; the river was green. For a second, Arthur had to stop and try to adjust his focus because his eyes had started to merge everything together into one mesh of giant green. Blinking in confusion, he turned to Merlin in the dingy, dull light and frowned. Why on earth were they here? This hardly screamed adventure; in fact it didn’t scream anything other than boring and horrible. It was apparent that Merlin was displeased with the area also. He crinkled his nose a little at the smell overcoming his senses. Meeting Arthur’s eyes, Merlin mirrored the blonde’s expression.
“We’re getting close to the caves now.” Arthur didn’t like his tone one bit, it was bordering apprehension.
“I’m guessing that’s where the Wildren are?” he asked, groaning as he gazed down to discover he had stepped into a dark sludge.
Merlin put his urgency on hold for a moment, grinning in amusement at Arthur’s shoes. When Arthur glanced up, he had just missed this amusement. Now Merlin was bearing a stern expression, gesturing for them to continue forwards through the web of tangled tree branches. It looked ominous, to say the least. The tree branches had almost been trampled into place with much effort, creating a coiling, twisting mechanism ahead that seemed impossible to break through. Merlin went first, ducking under the branch above his head, crouching in an awkward position.
“Why are they like this?” Arthur enquired curiously, following the druid cautiously.
Unable to turn his head back due to the restricted space, Merlin manoeuvred his way through two more coils, body twisting flexibly. Arthur heard his voice once the initial shock of Merlin’s dexterity had worn off.
“The druids made them like this.”
Pushing through the branches was futile, they were too thick to move or use force on. Climbing and weaving between them was the only way. With a sigh, Arthur curled his back, squeezing through two of the branches in his way. Merlin was metres ahead already. For a reason he couldn’t understand, he felt a little unnerved to raise his voice and shout. Instead he focused his mind on the druid, interlacing through another set of branches with less ease.