Memory Jar

chapter 10

"We are here to celebrate the peace treatment that my son managed to get for us. Mercia and Camelot will live in peace! We shall rejoice in this feast. In our future lies hope. Hope for a better kingdom and freedom for us all.", Uther Pendragon was standing in the middle of the throne room. He had his goblet in his hand. Raised for a toast that would never come.
Arthur was standing next to him, clapping fiercely. The rest of the room was cheerful though. Only few figures acted quite bored or annoyed. Others looked very pleased, others worried.

Morgana was clapping too, but her eyes didn't look too happy.
Since Morgouse had died during the incident when the entire Castle was asleep – Morgana had been very distressed. No wonder there – she had almost died that day. Poisoned. Someone had poisoned her. Probably Morgouse. Arthur hoped it was Morgouse. If not – then there was a traitor among them. If there was – Arthur would do anything in his power to kill that person.

"To my son, Arthur – who made this feast possible.", Uther nodded in Arthur's direction.

.....

Arthur's shot up in his bed. Well, not his bed. His and Merlin's bed. He was breathing heavily. And sweating. His head turned to find his husband sleeping soundly.
How long it had taken for Merlin to settle down enough to sleep without nightmares. Arthur couldn't remember. It had been a bloody long time since he himself had a nightmare such as this.
Thank god it was only Arthur who had dreamed this.
His eyes shot back to the memory Jar, that stood on the shelf on the other side of the room – where Merlin collected his books about herbs. Should he write it down? Maybe not this time. He knew Merlin liked to read some of the scrolls. This – Arthur knew instantly – wasn't a memory Merlin should know about.

It had been a while since Arthur's head had hurt from such a heavy memory.
He could see the flower within the memory Jar glowing. That in itself was nothing new. But it was glowing brighter than before. The glow fading slowly.

'I am the prince.', Arthur realized with a start. 'Uther Pendragon was my father.'
It wasn't as surprising as it once would have been. After all – they had their suspicions already. What panicked Arthur was – that he now KNEW about it.

Two days, Freya had said. And truly – the sun had just begun to rise after those two days had passed. Arthur's calm life would be over now. He WAS the prince. He had the responsibility over Camelot. A destiny. And he had neglected it for three years.
Was it too late to pretend he hadn't seen it? Was it too late to pretend it was just a dream?

Arthur buried his face in his hands. "Fuck.", he muttered. Merlin stirred next to him. But he barely turned around. It was too early to wake up anyway.
But Arthur would never be able to sleep again. At least not this morning. Quietly he grabbed his shirt. He considered for a second. Then he reached for the Jar and took out the flower. The forgetmenot. Something about this flower was strange, Arthur decided. Not just for the first time. Freya had told him to keep the flower close. Morgana had told him to keep the flower as well. Katie had told him the flower was meant for him.
Then the strange glowing this morning. Maybe there really was something about this flower. Somehow it was connected to his memories.
Maybe he should get rid of it. Whatever it was – it was connected to his destiny at least. And Arthur had long decided not to follow that destiny, whatever it may cost. He should have gotten rid of this flower a long time ago. Because if his assumption was right – it might be what made Merlin remember things as well.
And Arthur really couldn't have that now.

He put the flower in his pocket and went down the magically crafted stairs.
He would go outside to wash himself at the lake – he decided.

'I can pretend I've never seen the memory.', he thought, thinking of Merlin. 'It'll be fine – as long as Merlin doesn't know.'
Because only if Merlin believes he is the prince – only then will hell break loose.
Arthur had messed up. He had broken his promise to Merlin. He had never meant to remember.
But it was too late now.