Chapter 16 - Judgement Day

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The king gazes out the window in his chambers, staring down at the courtyard below. He can still see the images of Merlin tied to the stake, his uncle lightning the torch and tossing it towards the pyre. He hears the screams every night. The shouts and cries of anguish as the flames lick the sides of the boy's body haunt him as the day of the execution looms ever closer.

He tears his gaze from the window. He doubts he'll be able to watch Merlin's execution. Not again. Not a second time. He wonders if he can get away with sending Agravaine in his stead, feign some sort of illness perhaps. He could ask Gaius for help, that's if the old man even wants to speak to him ever again.

He turns to face back towards the window, sighing at the sight of the somber mood outside. The moon and stars are obscured by the clouds tonight, leaving hardly any light to fall down upon the Earth. He would even say a storm seemed to be brewing given the grey clouds overhead. He hopes it'll rain on the day of Merlin's execution. At least then he would have a little longer to live.

He quickly draws the curtains shut at the thought in his mind. Merlin has committed treason, whatever happens is no longer his concern. The boy is a sorcerer and does not deserve his pity. 

Arthur raises a hand to his face, rubbing the bridge of his nose in hopes of forgetting about the boy before he heads to sleep, but Merlin seems to always manage to sneak his way into his mind somehow. Whether it be the servant's smile or his betrayal the king can never seem to rid the idiot from his thoughts.

The king drops down onto his bed, not bothering to change out of his clothes before curling up in the sheets. He stares at the empty chair beside him, the seat Merlin hadn't bothered to put away after he stayed for the night. He can almost imagine his servant still sitting there, grinning at him lazily with his arms crossed underneath his head with a sleepy expression.

If he's honest with himself, he misses Merlin. He want's to see him, to talk to him, and, dare he think it, hold him. He's tempted to head down into the dungeons right now, in the middle of the night, just to catch a glimpse of the boy because he knows that this will probably be his last chance. Maybe he'll even say a few words to him, tell him that he wished things had been different. That they had met under different circumstances. Perhaps then... they could have had something more.

Arthur shoves his face down into the pillows, trying to bury the thoughts in his head. Merlin had betrayed him. He does not deserve any of his sympathy nor any of his love, and yet the 'what ifs' keep coming. What if Merlin hadn't been the one to plant the root? What if it was someone else? But what if he was? What if he really did plan on killing him? What if he's planning it now at this very moment?

Arthur pulls the edges of the pillow up over his ears. He wants the stupid argument in his head to stop. He wants the thoughts of Merlin to leave him alone. It's too late anyways. What's done is done. He has already made his choices. Whether they were right or wrong he'll only know when the time comes.

"...Arthur?"

The king clutches the pillow tighter around his head. Perfect. Now he's hearing things again. Why can't the world leave him alone, just for one night?

"Arthur, please... open the door."

Arthur turns over in his bed, trying to block out the voice as best he can.

A knock, one quiet and hesitant, echoes around the silent room. "Arthur? Please, I only need a moment."

The king remains quiet, trying to concentrate on his breathing as the voice in the hall continues to beg. Merlin isn't really there. It's all in his head...

First there's a click, then a creak from the hinges as the door is pushed open. There's a step followed by another as Merlin enters the room, letting the light from the hall stream inside. Arthur can see the servant's shadow on the wall, the edges distorting as the torches in the corridor flicker from the breeze. The door shuts, but remains unlocked. A sign that Arthur can leave at any moment he wished or shout for the guards if he so desires.

Merthur - The King and His Guardian AngelWhere stories live. Discover now