by GR Griffin
"You," Arthur, stood at the doorway, felt his resolution crumble at the voice. He remembered where he was standing, whose wrath was about to be unleashed. "dare defy me?"
The observers of the trial left the room quickly, establishing that this was becoming a personal matter that they had no right to impose on. Morgana's stance didn't falter, lips snarling. Swallowing-hard, Arthur opened his palm in a gesture of urgency. This was Gaius for crying out loud! A man of sixty-something who had tucked him into bed, cared for him, nursed Morgana, advised Uther on all decisions. Gaius was like an uncle to Arthur (a far better one than his actual Uncle Aggravaine – slimy traitor). Meeting Morgana's fearful gaze, he took a step forwards valiantly.
"Father please, I beg you to reconsider." Though Arthur knew they were too late. There was no changing his father's mind. Uther was resolute in the 'war against evil' as he called it.
"I will hear no more of this." Uther replied sitting down in his leather chair with feigned nonchalance.
Shaking his head, the young Pendragon continued gallantly. His father wasn't seeing clearly. There was no way Gaius would do anything like this.
"Gaius has always been a lifelong friend a trusted-" Arthur found himself compelled to silence as his father lifted his hand in the air. He pretended not to have seen the flames ignite Morgana's face; she'd always hated how loyal he was to his father.
"Gaius," Uther churned the name out fiercely. "has been secretly converging into my business with the purpose to report back to the druids in Albion."
The raven-haired beauty scoffed, eyes darkening demonically.
"You're wrong Uther. You're always wrong! So quick to turn your back on your friends. You, Uther Pendragon. (Arthur held a hand to the bridge of his nose, wishing he could become invisible. This wasn't helping Gaius.) You are full of hate." Uther locked his eyes on the woman. Any sane person would have taken this as a hint to stop talking.
"Full of evil. You are nothing but a mutated replica of humanity-"
Standing up suddenly, Uther strode towards her.
"ENOUGH." His voice boomed, and for a moment even the voices in the corridor stilled. Morgana bared her teeth resentfully, eyes smouldering.
"YOU ARE MY GODDAUGHTER." Turning away from her in outrage, he loomed over Arthur ferociously.
"And you are my son." The abrupt hushed tone didn't make his words any less startling. In fact, it made them even more foreboding.
Silenced, the pair of them watched as the figure retreated from their personal space and back towards his char. Lowering himself onto it, he spun around. Its long back faced them.
"Leave this room. Now."
Trudging away from the office, defeat plastered on his face, Arthur sighed. Gaius' fate had been sealed, and there was nothing he could do about it. Morgana didn't even look at him; she brushed past him wildly, taking the nearest possible turning, clearly to get away from him to avoid physically lashing out at him.
The next hour passed quickly and – to his relief – he was in solitude. He didn't take a break, ploughing through the stack of files on his desk. He feared getting out of sync with the efficient routine would draw his mind back to the events of the morning. Sitting in his own office, very much an imitation of his father's, Arthur gazed out through his window. It wasn't an inspiring sight; the immediate horizon was full of grey buildings. Workers walked briskly through the dampened streets, some stopped to exchange hellos and others were alone – but nonetheless content.
Camelot Enterprise offered a wide range of jobs. From marketing, sales, production, advertising, engineering…the list trundled on. It was sales and figures that were Arthur's forte, but often he would be found dabbling in other departments. Adjusting some recent projections of their next quarterly figures, and scrutinising his father's new proposals had kept him occupied.
Yet no matter how much he tried to keep his mind busy, lock his thoughts on corporate matters, a deep nausea spread inside his body. One name echoed constantly in the air. Gaius.
♦☼♦
Merlin always knew he was lucky to live in Ealdor. It was after all one of the largest druid clans in the whole of Albion, centred at the heart of the magnificent land, and home to the Crystal Cave. The large expanse of tunnels and sparkling crystals were said to be older than time herself, more sacred than the holy water of Avalon. The forest here was nothing but bold and beautiful, trees staggering high enough to hear the voices of those who had passed. They stood proud, tall and archaic, full of stories that only the rare few would have the privilege to hear. The lush layers of woodland were bursting with vibrant tropical plants, and berries that oozed sweet deliciousness. Not to mention the lake, Merlin called it beorhtne. The pure, blue water shimmered in the clearing of the forest, a large mount of rocks scattered around by the hands of nature, which were perfect spots to sit and relax.
The mornings were peaceful and sprinkled with the humming of the forest, the singing of the birds, the cries of animals unfortunate enough to have been chosen for death, and his favourite sound: the morning chants of his people. It was always the same chant, a morning grace perhaps the other world would have described it as. He was a druid with a free life, sheltered from the world of Pendragon's– he had heard the rumours of what happened out there. His best friend Will had seen it all for himself, hiding as a druid with the druidians for two years out in the world where towering metallic forests flocked with people, and strange contraptions like a 'key' that would let you into your own home existed. Merlin thought it was ridiculous, even more so the fact that they were incapable of living alongside nature. He never understood how Will had done it, or Gwenevere for that matter. His lips curved upwards at the name.
She was one of purest, most honest people he'd ever had the pleasure to meet, and to have discovered that she had sacrificed everything, even her freedom to help Will – a man she'd just met according to the retelling of the story - escape from the clutches of the Pendragon DC Team was a constant reminder of her courage. She was a rare exception to the rule: the rule that people from that world are to remain there and never enter Albion. Not that they could, because Albion was made invisible to their eyes, undetectable on satellites, protected by ancient magic. Apparently it was a bit like Hogwarts, Gwen had said when they first met, though Merlin wasn't sure why William found it funny, or what on earth a Hog-wart was.
Sitting down on the mossy tree root, he frowned a little. The sun was rising over the tips of the forest ahead, bursts of amber light streaking through and dancing with the air around. Merlin felt the warmth on his skin, but did not share in its rejoicing. The sun had set yesterday, and something was very, very wrong. It was one of those moments where he just knew something had happened. Like that very day Gwen and William had been on the run thousands of miles away in a completely different world, he sensed it in his gut. Only this time, it was worse. The twinge had kept him up most of night, tossing and turning restlessly. His heart had risen in pace, skin waxen. Clasping his hands together he sighed deeply, allowing himself this one moment to express his concern, knowing nobody else would be around to speculate it…or so he thought.
"Afara*," lifting his head at the gentle voice, his eyes met the face that was swathed in affection. Soft brown curls draped over her shoulders, seeping out from the messy bun. Sitting beside him, she reached for his hands and smiled lightly.
"You may have everybody else fooled, but don't think your own mother can't see that troubled glint in your eyes." Merlin spared a small smile at her teasing tone, it really was amazing how well she could read him, before morphing his face back into a stern expression.
Swallowing-hand, he ran a thumb over his mother's hands.
"Gaius." He choked, eyes favouring the rocky ground beneath the tree. "He didn't come back last night."
Caressing his hands soothingly, Hunith leant towards the raven-haired man. She knew Merlin's love for Gaius was almost on parallel to that for his own father and herself. Gaius had been a role model to
him, a man he could look up, the one who would tell him stories at night when Balinor could not. Her face was etched in calmness, in an attempt to pacify the young man; she could feel his pulse quickening through his wrists.
"I'm sure that he is safe Merlin-"
Turning to face her sharply, Merlin allowed the panic that had towered over him all night, whispered things into his ears, to enter his body and consume his entirety. Eyes wide, he breathed quickly at the revelation of his next words.
"He comes back every night since he left Ealdor, even before I was born I know he did."
It was a truth that could not be denied even by his mother. Without fail, Gaius would return from that world and back to Albion at night. Whether it was for a few hours or even a few minutes, he would make his own welfare and safety known to the clan. Merlin wondered if anybody else had noticed he didn't return. Pursing her lips together, Hunith reached for her son's face, flicking a strand of black hair off his forehead.
"I'm sure he's safe Merlin." She assured once more.
But it wasn't assuring at all. It was terrifying. Something was wrong- he knew it. He could feel it inside his magic, inside his soul. Yet nobody, not even his father, had seemed to understand that Gaius not coming back was a big deal; even possibly an indicator that he was in trouble. Images of what the truth may be flashed through his mind, and it was enough to make him stand up suddenly and pace back and forth agitatedly.
"No." he murmured, biting one of his fingernails as it rested against his mouth.
He always came back, always.
"No." Merlin repeated more forcefully, spinning around to pace the other way. "Something's wrong. I can feel it. I just know-"
Hunith stood up, grabbing his shoulder.
"Merlin-" her voice was stern, eyes narrowed in a rather protective manner.
Despite knowing the worry that was going to consume her, the clan for that matter, he knew he had to fight her on this. There was no way he was going to stand by and let Gaius suffer. He felt a wave of nausea burst through him. What if they were torturing him? What if- Releasing himself from his mother's grasp, he took a few steps back from her.
"You know I'm right. I'm going to find him."
Flinging herself forwards, eyes wide, Hunith shook her head. Merlin took an extra step back, hand raised, palm outstretched.
"It's too dangerous Merlin please! You can't do this." Small tears threatened to escape her eyes.
"Watch me." Smiling sadly, Merlin inhaled a deep breath.
With that, his eyes became rimed in a rich Gold, shining belligerently. A bright light enveloped around him, trees shaking blithely against the force of wind blowing around.
"MERLIN NO!"
But it was too late. The moment Hunith's words sounded, they were echoing around an empty clearing. Merlin was now in a dangerous world, where death for a druid was theeasy option. Even worse, he was in the heart of all of this evil:
Camelot Enterprise.
Chapter 2
“I can’t believe you just stood there like a coward watching them drag him away-”
He didn’t even have to look in her direction to know her eyes were burnishing with that usual resolute fire. To be honest, he was surprised she had taken this long to make her appearance. Maybe she had spent the past hour planning some kind of ridiculous speech to deliver to him. It definitely seemed that way. Pressing a hand to his throbbing forehead, Arthur groaned.
“For the last time Morgana there was nothing I could do-”
Leaning across the desk, she slammed a hand down onto the wood.
“-There was everything you could do Arthur! Gaius has been in this company since before we were born! You could have saved him from the lab-“
Arthur scoffed, standing up and meeting her eyes. She was…blaming…him for this? He spiralled into a petulant response.
“-Once the allegation has been made you know there’s no changing his mind. You know the system-”
“-Perhaps no-one else could, but you could talk some sense into him.” There it was, that strange belief Morgana had that Arthur could just magically changethings. Her voice softened as she retreated from the desk. “Tell him that he doesn’t have to do this. It doesn’t have to be this way anymore-”
“-I’ve tried. I’ve tried countless times, he won’t listen to me.”
“Try harder.” Morgana snapped, folding her arms across her chest.
The subliminal message embedded within those words struck Arthur instantaneously. Shaking his head, he bit his lip cautiously.
“I can’t defy my father in such a way. You know that.” averting his gaze to study the carpet, he frowned.
Sharp daggers shot from her eyes, penetrating his skin.
“I can’t believe you’re just going to let this happen.”
Rolling his eyes, Arthur smiled in incredulity. She really wasn’t getting the picture.
“I have to! I have no choice.” Pause. “Even if I did have a choice, do you really think that going against my father would be the best idea?! I’m to inherit this company Morgana, and Camelot Enterprise more than just a business. It controls almost everything – you know this. It even owns part of the military for god’s sake. Energy is everything.” Narrowing his eyes, Arthur clenched a fist. “You have no idea how much rests upon my shoulders.”
“No Arthur Pendragon. I don’t know.” She agreed solemnly. “I don’t know how it feels to be the Prince of the earth. But I do know one thing; you’re just like your father.”
With that, Morgana left the room.
Furiously, Arthur tossed her words out of the door too. But they crept back in stubbornly, whispering in his ear, fiddling with his tie, crawling over his skin. Brushing them off, he sat down at his desk. A puff of air left his lips loudly as he reached for the blue fountain pen. Tapping it insistently against the table, Arthur hoped the noise would override the words circling around his head. After two minutes whole minutes of this, sitting with eyes wide and blankly staring, he dropped the pen onto the table. It was no good. The words didn’t leave. Swivelling his chair out towards the window, his eyes caught Morgana. She was walking determinedly down the street, lips pursed, eyes fierce. Turning away from the window, Arthur scoffed.
“Prince of the earth.” He mocked her words to himself in an attempt to shoo them away, what a silly thing to say.
The words didn’t leave. No matter how hard he tried.
Even when he left his office, they trailed behind him tauntingly.
♦☼♦
Panting heavily, Merlin pressed himself against the wall behind him, eyes clamped shut and head still spinning slightly. He had caught a snippet of his mother’s cries as he left; they had woven around him in the vortex of blinding colours and warping patterns. Part of him prayed his magic hadn’t been foolish enough to teleport him to a clearing full of people who witnessed his arrival. That ridiculous self-sacrificial part of him prayed for the opposite, as that would possibly lead him straight to Gaius…or it could not and would take him to his own doom. To die here, that was a fate not deserved for anyone, even for the people that lived here. Slowly, he opened his eyes, not sure what exactly he was expecting to see. As the world seeped back into focus, and colours and shapes reformed, his mouth dropped open in awe. It was…beautiful. Strangely beautiful. Not in a way that he could describe or matching in the natural beauty of his own world.
The room was relatively empty, thank god. Those that occupied the side closer to Merlin were in extremely uncomfortable clothing, eyes glued to some sort of personal screen which conjured up a thing you could write your words onto. Fascinated, he leant forward from where he was hiding behind the large pillar, inspecting the room closer. There appeared to be glass windows framing the room, and the walls around were painted white. Further down the room, were a small group of people standing together. Gazing up, he stared at the ceiling above. Intricate patterns were engraved into the white stone. Despite how high up it was, everything seemed to ra
diate grandeur, his magic was able to decipher a dragon and a lion. Hearing voices emerge from behind him, Merlin quickly sauntered past the collection of screen-people, and desperately gazed around for some kind of door.
Gaius! He hissed in his head, his own voice dominating. Where are you?
No response. It was then Merlin knew things had to be worse than he had first imagined. If only he could find a door. Gazing around, he noticed there were a handful of interesting silver boxes attached to the walls, but there appeared to be no sign of a door. Confusion made itself apparent on his face, and he hoped the passer-by to his right didn’t put two and two together and sound the druid-alarm. To say he felt a little out of place in his simple cotton shirt and brown trousers would be an understatement. A sound from behind him, the silver box was opening, jerked Merlin’s attention to the sight. Watching the metallic doors open in front of him, Merlin began to understand the structure of this building.
He remembered Will telling him humans sometimes over-complicated their methods of transport. This must be that portal he had mentioned once. Walking quickly towards it, he smiled in relief. This portal would take him down to wherever Gaius was. He stepped reluctantly into the enclosed box and realised at this moment that he was not alone. His eyes drifted subtly over to the tall handsome blonde stood on the other side. His stare became less and less subtle, but he didn’t think it mattered – the other man seemed to be lost in thought anyway. Eyes widening, Merlin deduced this was one stunning specimen of a human being. The face was sculpted symmetrically, bright striking blue eyes, naturally pouting lips. His sleek blonde hair gleamed; the mirrors on each side of the box reflected his profile and the defined, but smooth, nose. Eventually blinking, Merlin quickly chucked his vision elsewhere, realising the blonde had noticed his presence.
Arthur Pendragon groaned melodramatically as his eyes flickered up and down the dark-haired man’s lanky body. At first a flutter of laughter escaped his chest, sounding almost forced. Surely, this had to be some kind of sick joke. Rolling his eyes, he huffed in frustration. Morgana. Now she had taken it too far. The first thing that caught his attention was that ridiculous mound of black hair on his head, styled chaotically. Then, he spotted those ears clumsily sticking out of the head- a little out of proportion. Lowering his gaze, he scoffed a little at the sight. The upper part of the man’s body was clothed in a red neckerchief –who wore neckerchiefs?! -a dirty bronze-coloured jacket,and a blue cheap cotton shirt underneath. The bottom half a little less ridiculous: muddy brown trousers and boots. He spared a look of distress for the man, but it faded instantaneously. Christ- he really did look like one of them.
