Merthur Oneshots

Are you a saint, or a sinner?

(A/N)

If you like Gwen as queen, please don't read this.

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"I hereby declare you banished from Camelot and all its allied kingdoms for the crimes of practicing sorcery, treason, and murder."

Merlin gaped in shock at the woman sitting on the throne, unable to recognise her.

Gwen, sweet sweet Gwen was banishing him from Camelot, his home , for something he didn't do.

"But I didn't do it!" He pleaded, even though he knew it was a lost cause. He could see it in her eyes. Cold as flint and steel, with none of the warm he had associated with her for the past decade.

"So, are you saying that you didn't practice sorcery?"

"No, I did, but-"

"You didn't practice sorcery in Camelot, knowing full well that that it was illegal and the only penalty was death?"

"I did, but-"

"You also were responsible for the murder of Agravaine de Bois, who was killed by a dragon that you were responsible for?"

"Agravaine was a traitor! You saw it yourself!"

"Nevertheless he was a member of the royal family. More than I can say for you." Gwen's was cold, hard, and bitter.

Merlin couldn't believe this was happening to him. He had just lost his best friend, just after he had won a battle, one that he had been dreading about for weeks. He had just lost the only man he had ever loved, brighter than the sun and more sharp than a sword.

"So you are banishing me?" Merlin whispered, disbelief still fogging his mind. This all had to be a bad dream, and he was going to wake up any second to sunlight streaming through his window and Gaius leaning over him.

"You should be killed, according to the law. Be thankful that all you are getting is banished."

At this moment, Merlin realised that this couldn't be a nightmare. Guinevere wouldn't have told him to be thankful about banishment in any version of his imagination. This was real.

The disbelief melted away from his mind, being replaced with hot, unbidden anger.

He had spent all these years chasing a future that would never come now, downtrodden and ridiculed, while he had to face unimaginable horrors. All while keeping his magic a secret, because it would get him killed.

But now it was out in the open, he was being subjected to a worse fate.

He was Emrys , dammit. He was supposed to have a happy ending. Not this.

Never this.

He glared at Gwen, his fists clenched and anger written on every inch of his face. The rest of the court glared at him, hostility sharp in the air. All these people he had known for over a decade, and yet they had turned on him, like he meant nothing at all.

Even Leon was glaring at him.

He couldn't take it.

Albion, the shining future he had envisioned would never come now. Arthur was gone, and Gwen was as good as.

All right.

Fuck Albion.

His magic flared inside him, hot as fire and yet cold as ice. It had always been instinctual, and Merlin had never been more thankful for it.

It was warm, comforting....

....And a force to be reckoned with.

He stood glaring at Gwen, sitting coolly on the throne with the golden crown perched on her head. Something else flared up at him at the sight, something he had kept repressed for years. Jealousy.

It was him who was supposed to be on the throne, him beside Arthur, making sure that his destiny was fulfilled and building Albion. But instead there was Gwen , watching him as he was nothing, just another filthy sorcerer.

No, he was Emrys .

His magic lashed out, breaking the windows of the throne room and speeding outside, free for the first time in his whole life.

His vision turned red, and he screamed. In pain, anger or grief, he didn't know. All he knew that he had to take revenge. For everything that had happened to him.

He had nothing to lose.

Massive explosions erupted outside, and screaming pierced through the air.

The land was burnt, crops destroyed. The air was thick with smoke. Bright flares lit up the sky, the energy shooting towards the Earth.

As he watched, the throne room burst into chaos, people screaming and running around. Dimly he saw knights reaching for him, but as soon as their skin touched his, their flesh was burnt.

As soon as it had started, it was over. The air was choked with fear and smoke, people watching him in horror. Gwen had stumbled off the throne, and was now kneeling at the foot of it, her crimson gown dirty and ripped, her hair tangled and dusted with dirt, and the crown fallen in front of her.

Merlin stepped forward, and picked it up. Gwen looked at him, her eyes wide in terror. Such a contrast from just a minute before. The raven placed the crown on his head, all while staring down Gwen who was kneeling at his feet.

"It was supposed to be mine anyway." He told her, before whipping around and stalking out of the room.