A/N: Surprise!
Okay, so apparently I had an ambiguous ending last chapter. This story was actually supposed to be only a one-shot, but I guess I could extend it. This is the aftermath of Merlin’s “Trial”.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Merlin. I also don’t have enough money to buy Merlin, unless 15 American dollars is enough to buy an entire TV show.
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Arthur sat in his room, head in his hands. This was torment. Merlin was his friend. He wasn’t supposed to be anything other than the clumsy idiot who somehow wormed his way into his life. Arthur thought back on all the strange occurrences in his life.
Whenever they fought bandits and he was about to be killed, a well-timed bough always fell directly onto the robber’s head. When he was in that cave, the light he had followed wasn’t there before. Was that Merlin?
Arthur let out a frustrated sigh and threw his boots against the wall. Why was this so hard?! He knew his father would never change his mind. The best he could do was tell Merlin to leave, and never come back. Banishment was preferable to watching his best friend die.
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Merlin was curled up in the corner of his tiny cell. He hadn’t been counting on the guards beating him senseless before tossing him in here… He was covered in bruises, and he was pretty sure his arm was broken. He had tried healing himself, but something about this cell drained his energy. He sighed and resigned himself to death.
A guard opened the door and dragged Merlin out by his broken arm. He yelped in pain, but didn’t fight. The guard shackled him roughly, using cold iron. The metal burned his skin. The guard led him up to the surface, and outside. The entire town was gathered next to the pyre.
It was sick! All these people, gathered to watch him die. He recognized a lot of faces in the crowd, faces that had always been kind to him. Those same faces were twisted in scorn and disgust. He felt tears in his eyes, but refused to let them see him cry. He was tied to the mast with strong rope, the shackles never taken off.
“People of Camelot, we are gathered here today to witness the public execution of this sorcerer. You think you knew him, but it was all a lie. A dirty nasty trick. This man, Merlin, betrayed us all. Guards! Light the fire!” Uther roared. The crowd cheered and hollered. It was horrible. Merlin held his head high.
“I’d like to say one thing before I burn.” Merlin said. Uther looked at him in disgust, but nodded. “I am the same man you were friends with. I have always had magic, since the day I was born. I learned to hide it, terrified of who I was. I came to Camelot to serve a greater purpose. I may be a warlock, but I am also your friend. I am Emrys, and death cannot stop me.” Merlin said firmly, his voice ringing out over the silent crowd. The flames licked at his waist.
Merlin could feel the heat now. A bottle smashed against his face, and he felt the stinging sensation of alcohol running into his eyes. The wine caught fire, melting his flesh. He did not scream, though it took a gargantuan effort. He was an inferno. He was nothing, and everything. He was infinite, and smaller than a grain of sand. He was Emrys.
And now he was dead.
A/N: Yeaaaahhh….. I’m just gonna leave this here. As you can probably tell, this wasn’t written in one sitting. I actually wrote half one month, and the next half several months later. My writing style has changed a lot since then.
Ciao.
~Tai
