Merlin Headcanons

Trustworthy

Gaius was constantly amazed by the Pendragon obliviousness. Not Arthur's, but Uther's. The man took potions from him without a hint of suspicion, even when Merlin was awaiting the pyre.

The potion had been perfectly innocuous. Merlin was probably breaking free even as he turned it over to him.
But it planted the seed of an idea.

. . . .

The air still smelled of smoke a week later. He might have thought it was his imagination, had it not been only one of many strange occurrences that week. No wonder the stench still hung in the air. Not when the air hung so heavy and still, whispers running through it instead of a breeze.

Emrys. Emrys is dead. Magic is dead.

The whole world hung still in the shock of it. The druids' whispers grew till even he could hear. They rustled like leaves moved by an army through a forest. Fitting.

The druids were coming.

Merlin!

The dragon had roared only once, but the beat of his wings, slow and steady, pulsed throughout all Albion.

The cobblestones were rosy pink. Lancelot's blood had dyed them, but unnaturally so. Magic's tribute to the fallen knight.

Emrys was dead, and he was not coming back. Gaius could feel the world slowly admitting it.

He knew what would come next.

The torches went out. Every fire in Albion, in the whole world, went out, a week too late.

He stepped into the council room smoothly. Uther had not yet had the Round Table removed.

Three chairs were empty. Lancelot had no further need of his. Nor did Gwaine, though the others didn't know it yet.

Gwaine had gone gently, wrapped in dreams so much sweeter than reality. A sleeping potion, Gaius had told him. To ease the pain.

It will help?

So desperate. So innocent.

It will cure all your ills.

It had.

"Sire, there is little time. A curse approaches. I have brewed a preventative measure, but you all must drink it now."

The king had been expecting something of the sort. He waved his permission quickly, and Gaius passed out the bottles, careful not to confuse anyone's.

Leon had sided with the king. He got an orange bottle.

Percival had tried to help but hadn't done enough. He got blue.

"You too, Gwen," he said gently. She stood by the wall, staring blankly ahead. Her chair too was empty. A maidservant once more. She hadn't spoken to Arthur since Merlin -

She got a purple bottle.

"What exactly is the nature of this curse, Gaius?" Uther demanded.

Uther. Uther had started the Great Purge. Uther had driven Alice away. Uther had burned his beautiful boy at the stake.

He got black.

"It forces a person to feel every bit of pain, physical or otherwise, they have ever caused another person." At least it will in your case.

Leon would burn. Percival's heart would quietly stop. Gwen would go the way of Gwaine.

Arthur barely seemed to notice him. He took the clear bottle without protest. Gaius took the last one for himself.

"Drink it all," he instructed.

They did.

Their screams were music to his ancient ears.

Arthur, for the first time in days, took action, lurching to his feet, trying to help. "It didn't work! Help them!"

He'd gone to Gwen, not his father, despite the other's proximity, so Gaius allowed him an explanation. "They already have all the help they deserve."

Arthur paled. He understood much quicker than Gaius had expected. "Gwen - "

"Would not want to live with everyone around her dead."

"What was in mine?" he asked, his voice barely audible over the chaos. The guards pounded on the door Gaius had locked with a bit of magic.

"Water."

"What?" he demanded.

Gaius moved to the window. The earth was heaving, the sky darkening with thick clouds that threatened something far more deadly than rain. Already he could hear the shrieking of the beasts as they moved ever closer to Camelot. Griffins, wyverns, a dragon . . . And those were just the ones Arthur would recognize. The ones anyone would have a prayer of defeating.

He looked at Arthur. He looked shattered. Broken. He had ever since Merlin had first started screaming on that pyre.

Gaius felt his own poison start to take affect. "As I said. The help that each deserves."

Gaius fell.

Most of the others' screams fell silent. The ones in the city had just begun.

Arthur fell to his knees.

Alone.

A/N: So . . . that was cheerful! And, yes, I got the spell from Christopher Paolini's Inheritance. Whatever you think of the series, you have to admit, that spell on Uther would have been agonizing.