Merlyn's Fate

The Witchfinder P2

Arthur unlocked Merlyn's cell, watching her squint as her eyes adjusted to the light.

"You're free to go." he sighed, holding out his hand to help her off the stone floor of the dungeons. He registered her brief expression of surprise, but ignored it, assuming he'd misplaced the emotion.

He followed her out of the small room, cursing as he saw two figures walking towards them. He'd hoped that he would get Merlyn out before her mentor was brought into the stinking cells, prayed that he would have time to explain to her what was happening.

"Gaius?" His servant exclaimed as they neared the physician, held unnecessarily tightly by one of the Prince's guards. "What's happening?"

The old man eyed her wearily, knowingly. He knew just as well as Gaius that Merlyn wouldn't take this lying down. She'd seen her mentor dragged to the dungeons; there was no way she would just let him rot there.

"Say nothing, Merlyn. Do nothing. Promise me!" Gaius shouted as he passed, before being tugged around a corner and out of sight.

∆

When Merlyn returned to the physician's chambers, she closed the door. With a deep breath, she opened her eyes, aware that they were glowing bright gold and lifted her arms, directing the papers littering the floor back to their rightful places. The smashed, glass bottles were drawn together, their contents replaced. The furniture was righted, the herbs replenished and grains returned to a large barrel in the corner. She breathed deeply, glad to have put her anger into something useful, before collapsing on the floor of the newly cleaned room, sobbing loudly.

∆

Arthur was bored. When his father had asked him to dine with himself and Aredian, Morgana having declined with the excuse of a sudden illness, he had imagined tales of them fighting together against evil sorcerers, near death experiences or at least something remotely interesting. Instead, they'd spent most of the meal in silence. He'd given Merlyn the night off to clean her rooms, knowing for a fact that, no matter how messy his own chambers were, hers were significantly worse. He'd have leant her a hand, but he wasn't sure if that categorised as overly friendly in Uther's books.

"Gaius has served me with unfailing dedication. Without his knowledge, his wisdom, I would not be sitting here today." The King finally broke the silence, taking a large gulp of wine as he did so.

"You show great faith in him sire." The witchfinder scoffed, almost as if Uther was weak for trusting the physician. "Especially considering that he was known to practise sorcery."

Arthur knew this, fairly certain that Gaius himself had told him many years ago. He'd long dismissed it as a false memory, but the physician's eyes flashing gold, causing a small dragon to fly up from a flame, swooping around the young prince before vanishing into thin air was ingrained into his mind. He'd kept it a secret from his father, knowing what could happen to the old man if he ever mentioned it, but he'd never forget it, the moment of weakness where the kindly man had shown him something good in what he'd always seen as pure evil.

"I'm well aware of his past, but I have every reason to believe that he's turned his back on sorcery." His father was resolute, likely resenting the idea that the physician had managed to trick him for so long.

Aredian smirked. "Until now."

"We don't know that. This amulet you found, it could be a stupid mistake." Uther suggested, probably just as sickened with the idea of sending Gaius to his death as Arthur was.

The witchfinder didn't look convinced, but then, he didn't seem like the kind of person who particularly cared about proof. "Or maybe he has fallen back into old habits." he suggested, causing Arthur to subtly roll his eyes.