Merlyn's Final Truth

Lancelot du Lac P3

Arthur slammed his chamber's door shut, collapsing back onto the wooden frame. He was exhausted, consumed by the collision of notions he couldn't quite grasp. Anger deserted him, replaced quickly by a thick shade of loneliness. Everything he'd ever known, everything he had always believed, was battling against what he hoped to be true.

Perhaps he'd always known. Deep down, Arthur felt that he had never fully trusted Merlyn, had ignored her in ways that had nearly cost him his kingdom. He owed his life to her, had wanted to marry her, even feeling that she was holding something back. She disappeared so often, lied to him so easily, and for what? He hadn't asked, hadn't wanted to know. Which of his achievements were his own? Had the whole of Camelot been laughing behind his back as his father declared that his beloved son had saved each and every day? If his father was alive, he'd have responded differently; he hated himself for not knowing which side of the line he'd have fallen. No. She should have trusted him. He wondered if he could ever be the man Merlyn thought he would become.

"Sire?" Agravaine cleared his throat, acting embarrassed to have caught the king in a private moment of weaknesses. "Is anything the matter?"

"It is none of your concern, uncle." Arthur managed a weak smile, cursing his lack of observance. Agravaine was in the far shadows of his room, undetectable in his current state.

"My lord, there are rumours surrounding the location of your servant." Agravaine paused, trying to be delicate. "The people wish to know how such a... trusted woman has offended you. They wish to know what kind of punishment she will face."

Arthur felt the sudden urge to be sick. To sentence Merlyn to... He couldn't think about it, couldn't reflect on the feeling of his own sword at her throat, what he would've done if he hadn't found her hopeful eyes. She had surrendered herself to him completely, would have let herself die if he so chose. Whether Merlyn would remain in Camelot remained to be seen, but even as he'd watched that beautiful dragon flutter into the sky, he'd known death had never been in her cards.

"This is a private issue." Arthur said shortly, cursing himself for failing to question Merlyn further on her distrust of his uncle. "It is not the people's - or yours for that matter- concern. I will deal with this myself."

"Very well, sire." Agravaine nodded, stepping past him towards the door. He paused, turning to Arthur with a thoughtful look in his eye. "You are becoming a fine, young man, Arthur. Without her flawed presence beside you, I hope you will flourish into the king you ought to be."

When he heard the door close, Arthur flopped onto his bed, staring up at nothing in particular. He'd seen some papers on his desk, but they could be discovered later. For now, he refused to move, turning over Merlyn's pleas in his mind, trying to decide whether he could ever truly trust her word.

~

The sky was beginning to darken by the time Gwen made her way to Gaius' chambers. It was eerily quiet, especially after the whispers that had followed her that day. People assumed she knew what had happened to Merlyn, but few had dared to approach her. Then again, few spoke to her much anymore. She was in a strange limbo, no longer a servant nor a noblewoman. She had no husband, no true rank and yet here she was. A lady. Her old friends didn't know where they stood with her; the noblewomen had no interest in a woman without their sacred blood. Merlyn, she supposed, shared her purgatory. Perhaps that's why she so often sought her company. But Merlyn had Arthur. She had always had Arthur. Oddly, it occurred to her that now she and Merlyn were probably more alike than they ever had been.

Gwaine sat at one of Gaius' benches staring vacantly into the middle distance. She wasn't sure when he'd escaped from the dungeons, but doubted Arthur would care. Besides, Gwaine didn't look in any position to start another fight. He'd been drinking. She could smell it.