Camelot Enterprise

by GR Griffin

  “So you came back then?”

  The words caused him to stop in his tracks. Closing his eyes, Arthur inhaled a deep breath. The voice was familiar, painfully so. Slowly, he turned around, and saw none other than Will. His face was splayed with dirt, dark eyes as foreboding and judgemental as ever. His lips were drawn into a stern line. Overall he looked defeated – and really Arthur refused to buy the wounded façade. It was time Will broke out of his mood once and for all, if not for Arthur, for his best friend.

  “We’re still playing this game then,” He chuckled in amusement, never breaking eye contact with the troubled man. Will opened his mouth, ready to fire more words his way; Arthur quickly continued. “Before you insult me again, tell me one thing, because I’m curious-”

  “-I still don’t trust you.” Will spat, not allowing him to finish. Funny, the more he heard Will say that, the less convinced Arthur was. “I never have and I never will. You may have found the White Dragon and made a flashy entrance, but that doesn’t change what you did.” Eyes lowering to the ground, Will swallowed-hard, uncomfortable with talking about that day.

  “You think I don’t look back on that day?” Taking a step forwards, Arthur offered Will a coy smile that was immediately rejected. This unleashed the rage boiling beneath Arthur’s skin. “If you think my actions were supposed to excuse what I’ve done, then you are mistaken. I’m not asking for forgiveness, I just want the People that I love to have hope again.”

  Narrowing his eyes, Will clenched his fists.

  “I know what you’re doing Arthur.”

  Raising his eyebrows, Arthur folded his arms across his chest, awaiting the stream of negativity to crash down over him. Nonetheless, he was surprised, because this had to be the first time that Will had called him by his name. It appeared Will was aware of his mistake too, what it implied. When he pursed his lips agitatedly, gazing away, Arthur found the only choice he had was to stoop to his level and antagonise the Druid. Will’s opinion was important; it deserved a voice. If he revealed he was willing to listen, perhaps then Will would have the courtesy to listen to him.

  “If there’s something you want to say to me,” he said, voice low and commanding; a small smirk unwillingly spread over his face. “By all means say it, don’t let me stop you.”

  That seemed to do the trick.

  “I can’t stand it. You,” Will pointed over towards him darkly, but his look was dark at all. Arthur saw right through it, stunned by what was lying underneath. “Acting all noble, trying to lead the Druids as if you’re a leader.” Disliking where this was going, Arthur gritted his teeth to stop himself from barking back fiercely. “You want to take over. You want to shove Merlin out of his place, and take the Druids for yourself. Just like your father, you are driven by power and the urge to control-”

  “-That’s not true. I am not my father and I never will be.” Arthur snarled, unable to ignore the bait. Aithusa’s words resonated within him, filling him with assurance and confidence. A peculiar pain spread over his body followed by the thousands of butterflies that had somehow found their way beneath his skin. “Merlin and I, we are equals.”

  At these words Will laughed, clearly furious by such a statement.

  “You are nothing compared to him! He is Emrys, the most powerful warlock of all time. And you-” flinching at the words, Arthur reluctantly took a step backwards, watching confidence and assurance flee the scene quicker then they had rushed to his side.

  “-Arthur,” another voice interrupted boldly.

  Both Will and Arthur devoted their focus to the figure who emerged from the darkness and stepped into the moonlight. He was dressed in a draping black cloak, alluring and striking against his skin and electric blue eyes. Arthur watched Will’s anger deteriorate. Lowering his hood, Merlin smiled at the two men before him. For a moment he stared at Will curiously, unable to mask the sad undertone to his smile. Will returned the sentiment, almost reticently. Then the Druid stood beside Arthur, loyally, faithfully. Merlin’s next words caused Arthur’s world to become increasingly disorientating, blurry. The stars in the sky became smears over a black canvas, the trees blended into one thick texture.

  “Arthur is destined to bring eternal peace to Albion, he is the one who will guide us into the Golden Age. Arthur,” Merlin gazed over to Arthur nervously. Despite the dizziness clouding him, Arthur saw what was embedded within those eyes. It was a confirmation, an admission. The unusual apprehension in Merlin’s aurarevealed what he was going to say. Clasping onto Merlin’s shoulder for support, Arthur clamped his eyes shut and waited for the words to wash over him.

  “Arthur Pendragon is the Once and Future.”

  Opening his eyes, Arthur’s eyes widened. Once and Future. There’s something special about you Arthur. Two Sides of the coin. Destiny. Fate. Mouth agape, he stared at Merlin, who refused to look him in the eyes, keeping his focus on Will. The Once and Future; the right-hand man of Emrys. He was not prepared to hear those words, the gravity of them. Will said something, clearly doubtful of Merlin’s words, but Arthur couldn’t hear him. The only thing he had the energy to hear was Merlin’s voice, viciously berating the words that had just been spoken by his old friend.

  “I saw it, with my own eyes.” He stated, evoking shock from both of the men. His voice was full of resolution and faith. “I saw it the first time I looked into the Crystals of Ealdor.” Arthur narrowed his eyes at the statement. He remembered Merlin telling him that he had looked into the Crystals. This had been many weeks before he had even arrived in Albion which had to mean all this time Merlin was fully aware of what he’d seen and what it meant. Arthur wasn’t sure how he was supposed to feel about this revelation, too shocked by the real revelation to react.

  “It’s not the Crystals I believe in,” turning to meet Arthur’s eyes, Merlin’s lips tugged upwards. This abruptly became a blinding, toothy smile that reached his eyes and crinkled his eyelids, accentuating his cheekbones. The look was so full of trust and other things that all Arthur could do was gape back in wonder. “It’s you I believe in.”

  “He…” Will’s words trailed off, gazing at Arthur with something other than rage. No. This couldn’t be true. How could one with such a great destiny be him? A sigh left his lips, a precarious question entering his mind.

  How could one with such a great destiny not be Arthur Pendragon? It made sense. The man was full of contradictions; constantly surprising Will with his actions that subverted what he assumed were a Pendragon’s. Assumed. Here lied the issue. Will had never given Arthur a chance, he had meticulously scrutinised his actions, praying for the blonde to fuck up and prove he was one of them. But when he did fuck everything up, well, it infuriated Will further because even that was unintentional and despite disliking Arthur Pendragon, he was finding it increasingly difficult to maintain this stance. He still held it though, clinging onto the final threads desperately.

  “What if he’s (Arthur rolled is eyes, was there no end Will’s insults?) leading us into a trap? If…if we follow him, we will die Merlin,” Will muttered bleakly.

  “-Why, why can’t you trust him?” Merlin whispered beseechingly, the upset in his voice touched Arthur. A dismal laugh escaped Merlin’s lips. For a moment the two men seemed to forget Arthur was standing in earshot of their conversation that had taken a more private turn.

  “We’ve been through this.”

  “Yes we have, and still I don’t understand Will.” Merlin took a step forwards, placing a hand on his shoulder. “He is the once and future, he-”

  “-Because you saw his face in some Crystals in a cave?” Will retorted bluntly, Merlin’s eyes darkened at the words.

  “Don’t speak of our sacred place in such a way.” He scolded, swallowing the lump in his throat. Will reached out and grabbed Merlin’s shoulder tightly. The action forced Merlin to look into his friend’s eyes.

  “Merlin, even Gaius has said many times that the Crystals have been wrong before. They can be inaccurate, for
etell false truths, manipulate your mind…”

  Merlin took this opportunity to gaze over at Arthur and was horrified at what he saw. Doubt. That stupid doubt that he thought he’d perished had resurfaced at Will’s words, resonating through his sapphire eyes, diminishing his composure. Arthur grimaced. Gaius had said this. Gaius was a wise man; he knew many things. Perhaps- No…yes. Merlin read Arthur’s mind effortlessly, without magic. It was obvious he was considering it.Releasing himself from Will’s grasp, Merlin practically growled, demanding both of their attention.

  “Arthur is the Once and Future!” He all but yelled viciously. His voice echoed throughout the clearing, so full of certainty it unsettled the blonde man. “I know he is.”

  “Well why is it then that you’ve only just told Arthur?” Will asked, fully aware his words were feeding the suspicions that Merlin was trying to counteract. Biting his lip, Merlin glowered at his friend; a cruel question, one probably that he knew needed answering. But not here, Merlin treaded carefully around the words, a little concerned by Arthur’s vacant expression.

  “I had my reasons,” Merlin’s voice became brusquely severe. “None of which concern you, William.”

  The pair maintained an intense stare, locking eyes hazardously. Seconds later, Arthur found it was all too much to handle. The once and future, Will’s words, Merlin’s words…everyone’s words. So many words, so many things now began to make sense in context…holding a hand to his throbbing head, he turned away and began to walk through the bioluminescent forest. Merlin averted his attention, watching as Arthur faded into the distance. Wildly he turned back to Will, eyes instinctively flashing gold. Will raised his hands in defence; despite knowing his oldest friend would never bring harm to him. Lowering his hands as Merlin’s eyes retained their usual colour, Will studied the hurt expression on his face.

  “You’ve gone too far this time.” Merlin admitted, tears staining his eyes, threatening to fall down his face. Swiftly Will’s expression shifted to a mix of bewilderment and distress.

  “From that start you’ve made it your personal mission to drag him down. He’s a good man Will.” Wiping his eyes, Merlin choked on his upset, stumbling clumsily over his words. “Arthur has tried to make amends with you, more times than I can say, and you have failed to overlook your own selfish intentions.” Unable to stop the tears falling from his eyes, he shook his head. “I don’t think you understand what you’ve just done. But if you’re going to continue acting like a little child then you give me no choice.”

  Will suddenly leant towards his friend.

  “Shit, Merlin I’m sorry I…I.” He stammered, panic consuming him when Merlin refused to meet his eyes. “You know me. I don’t like change-”

  “-You’re fine with change,” Merlin snapped, not believing Will was trying to lie to him. He knew him better than anyone. Lying was futile, pointless. “You just don’t like Arthur-”

  “-I’m trying.” Will muttered sadly, ashamed he had done this to his oldest friend. Merlin scoffed.

  “You’re not trying. You haven’t tried at anything for weeks!” he exclaimed, unimpressed with Will’s behaviour. It was exhausting. Will remained silent, unsure what exactly to say. Yes, he had been a lousy friend, wallowing in his own misery for too long. He had neglected the people who needed him the most. Sighing, Merlin turned from him.

  “When you’ve decided to get your act together and grow up,” he began, a sharp bite to his tone that worried Will. Merlin was never this angry with him. They’d had fights but usually it was Will doing the shouting, Merlin doing the pacifying. Oh, he had royally screwed up this time. “Then we can talk.”

  With that, Merlin swiftly left Will’s presence, intent on finding Arthur. If he heard Will’s subsequent and genuine apology, he made no note of showing it.

  ♦☼♦

  “Why didn’t you say anything?” Arthur asked slowly as he heard the approaching footsteps from behind him. The arms of Monðwære-ferð were glowing radiantly, adding an ethereal hue to his skin. Eyes shut, he continued to focus on his breathing. The battle was days away; he could feel it. They needed to be ready, and he needed to clear his mind. Freezing in his tracks, the Druid frowned. Arthur was certainly taking it better than he’d expected. Taking another step closer, Merlin crouched down beside Arthur underneath the tree. He reached for Arthur’s hands tentatively.

  “Knowing your future is not something I would wish upon anybody.” It wasn’t enough of an explanation, he knew this much.

  “It is dangerous.” Arthur regurgitated Merlin’s words, opening his eyes gently. Meeting Merlin’s sapphire eyes, he frowned. “Is this why you have been so…distant?”

  “Yes…” swallowing-hard, Merlin adjusted himself on the ground, studying the soil before plucking up the courage to meet the blonde’s eyes again. “I found out that I was Emrys when I was very young. My parents tried to protect me from the legends, but it wasn’t enough. One day a woman came to our clan, requiring help for my mother,” listening intently, Arthur squeezed his hand, gesturing for him to continue. “The woman saw me and pointed at me like I was a monster. She started screaming this name at me.”

  Emrys, Merlin didn’t have to say it for Arthur to understand.

  “I was five years old.” A sad laugh escaped his lips. “Growing up, that name haunted me, cast over me like a shadow.” Pause. “It was difficult. To be known to so many as someone you’re not, to have a whole new identity you’re not even sure exists.” Arthur faintly traced patterns on Merlin’s palms, watching as the raven-haired man gazed into his eyes once more. “Knowing how it felt at times, I…I didn’t want you to feel overwhelmed or trapped.”

  Eyes softening, Arthur kissed Merlin’s forehead affectionately, silently gesturing his gratitude. He was gratefulfor this. Although perhaps it had been withheld for too long, Arthur hardly doubted he would have coped or believed this six months ago, or even two months ago. He already had so much on his mind, learning the ways of the People, looking for acceptance and belonging, searching for answers his father never gave him. With the secret agenda, being told he was equal to the greatest warlock in all history….well- that would not have gone smoothly with his past self. In fact, he was certain he would have just laughed it off or mocked it. Smiling proudly, Merlin fiddled with their entwined fingers.

  “It made no difference that you didn’t know. You’ve proven yourself to be more than the Crystals predicated, more than the prophecies foretold.”

  Unlacing their fingers, Arthur’s fingers trailed over the beautiful sparkling leaves of Monðwære-ferð before resting over his knees.

  “William is right though.” At these words Merlin rolled his eyes in frustration, biting his lip to stop himself from retaliating. “These aren’t my people Merlin, they’re yours.”

  “No.” Merlin replied firmly, because he was not allowing this to happen again. Damn the gorgeous man and his insecurities. Raking a hand through his dark hair, Merlin gazed over Iaonem. Most of the Druids were sound asleep, a few embers on the horizon still burning. “Arthur, these are our people. We will bring about the new age. You and I, we will rule this land, together.”

  “We can’t defeat my father Merlin,” Arthur murmured morosely, recalling what he had seen in the Camelot warehouse with a shudder. “I know what he’s capable of. He will not rest until Magic no longer breathes.” Merlin pondered on these words, Uther had lost all he ever cared about to magic; Igraine, Morgana, Gaius and Arthur. But this had all been his own doing. Uther Pendragon had chosen to trade his wife’s life for Arthur’s. Uther Pendragon had chosen to conceal Morgana’s birth; he had chosen to send Gaius to the labs despite being nothing but a loyal companion. He was lost, blinded by this hatred and immeasurable loss. Camelot Enterprise was all Uther had left to fight for, his legacy.

  “We should disjoin the resistance, they’re too strong-”

  Breaking from his thoughts, Merlin shook his head belligerently.

  “-Now is not the time
to talk like this Arthur!” he cried in shock. People looked up to Arthur, if anyone heard him say this, the resistance may as well be over. “We have less than two days before they arrive. Thousands of Druids came to Iaonem because you asked them to fight with you Arthur. They came to help you fight for what is right and all that is just in this world. This is the chance to win back our freedom, forever. People believe in you can’t you see?”

  Bowing his head, Arthur’s lips morphed into a grimace.

  “No, they believe in Emrys.”

  Adamant on snapping Arthur back into his senses, Merlin immediately responded with vigour and passion.

  “Emrys is nothing without the Once and future.” Smiling fondly, he muttered a spell, eyes a magnificent golden hue. In a flash a familiar book landed in his hands. Opening it he turned to Arthur and cleared his throat. “In the time of exile and condemnation, where man is full of greed and bitterness, one heart will reveal itself to be a dark daemon, blacker than the night.” Recognising the ancient verse, Arthur lifted his head curiously, eyes resting on the book as Merlin spoke. “And another will step forth into the light and reveal that it is in fact a Dragon.” He recited, pausing for dramatic effect. Putting the ancient book down, Merlin leant towards Arthur and pressed his hand gently against his shoulder.

  “The man the prophets speak of, it’s you. I believe in you Arthur. I always have. From the day I first met you I knew you had a great journey ahead of you. I have watched you grow into the man you were destined to become. Albion has chosen you to be her guardian; she has been waiting for thousands of years for this day to come, for you and I to rescue her from this deadly foe.” The statement was bold, overpowering. Surely there were greater candidates for the ‘Once and Future’, Druids with awesome power and revered skills. Why Arthur, son of the man who had the blood of hundreds of Druids on his hands? Getting to his feet, Arthur offered the man a final smile, evidently still cynical and doubtful.