And Breathe Me

 

“This is all just formalities,” Merlin rolled her eyes.

 

Gwen giggled. “How does it feel serving the Crown Prince of Camelot?”
 

“Arthur’s been the Crown Prince. They’re just making it official because he’s ‘come of age.’”

 

“But you’re proud of him.”

 

“I did a damn good job with his socks. ‘Course I’m proud. It has nothing to do with Arthur,” she smirked. “How old is he anyway?”

 

“He’s twenty-two.”

 

“Old geezer.”

 

Gwen giggled again, swatting at her arm. “And how old are you?”

 

“Seventeen.”

 

“He’s not that older than you,” Gwen laughed. “Just by five years.”

 

“Like I said, geezer.”

 

Their laughter was cut short when a black clad knight burst through the window, shattering it into pieces as he and his black horse slowly rode towards Arthur and Uther. Stopping short of them, the knight cast down his gauntlet. Arthur almost picked it up, but Sir Owain took it up instead. The dark knight’s head jerked towards him.

 

“Single combat, tomorrow at noon. To the death,” and he galloped out.

 

Though Gaius claimed not to recognize him, both the fright on his and Uther’s face made her think otherwise. Going to Uther, she hid in the shadows as Gaius grimly exited the throne room. Entering it, she saw the distraught figure of Uther sagging in his chair.

 

“Gaius says he doesn’t know him. If that’s true, then why did you and he look so frighten at the Black Knight’s appearance?” Merlin asked in the silence.

 

“The crest belongs to Tristan Dubois, a man dead nearly twenty years. I killed him.”

 

“Dead men do not return.”

 

He barked out laughter harshly. “Those are the exact words I spoke to Gaius just now. We are truly alike…”

 

“Uther…?”

 

“He was Ingraine’s brother. Tristan blamed me for her death and challenged me to a single combat duel to the death. He…cursed me and Camelot, stating he would return from the dead and fulfill his vengeance. I did not think it so literally, for I’ve already been haunted by the ghost of his memory.”

 

“Nimueh would be powerful enough for necromancy.”

 

“Does it look like I know your magical terms?” he asked sarcastically.

 

“The art of reanimating the dead. Gaius and I will look further into this and find out what we can.”

 

“Should I tell Arthur….about the circumstances of his birth? Gaius believes I should,” Uther uncertainly asked.

 

She hesitated. “…No, I don’t think you should,” she answered slowly.”Arthur will be devastated and become more emotional, thus clouding his thinking. He will make rash decisions. He is not yet ready to know the truth, nor is this the right time.”

 

Merlin sighed frustrated, going on. “Uther, Arthur will not look favorably upon you if you just tell him now. He will either see a hypocrite, a vengeful man, or even both. I hate to say this, but if you want to…manipulate Arthur into seeing you in a better light, then you should wait to tell him until you can look vulnerable. He will see a loving father, not a vengeful, bitter and angry King.”

 

“I understand,” Uther muttered, staring at her. He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. “Nimueh will not stop, and I fear she will come after me. I…must ask a favor of you.”

 

She waved her hand casually, “Go on then. Ask away.”

 

“Merlin…I know you have your duties to Arthur, but would you tail me for awhile? I will have someone else take on your duties for the time being, but…”

 

She smirked, “I thought my job was to shadow Arthur, not you.” Her smirk fell when she saw just how worried he was. “Of course I will. I don’t know how I will match up against Nimueh, but I’ll do my best to protect you. Still, she is older and more experienced.”

 

“But you are more powerful,” he determinedly stated.

 

Merlin blinked in surprise, “Glad to know you have such faith in me.”

 

“I do have faith in you. You have not failed me yet,” he looked at her seriously.

 

A smile tugged at her lips.

 

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She cringed and looked away as Sir Owain was killed. Uther held back Arthur as the Black Knight rasped out his challenge, and Sir Pellinore accepted it.

 

She had been sure Owain had struck a mortal blow, but the Black Knight had kept going. It only proved her right. Tristan Dubois had returned from the dead and was seeking his revenge.

 

“Why did you hold me back?!” she heard Arthur yell at his father from where she was hidden behind a pillar in shadows. She leaned back, feeling herself slump against the cold stone as she thumped her head lightly against it. Dragging one leg up, she folded it in and rested her foot against the pillar.

 

“You should allow the Knights of Camelot to a chance to prove themselves,” Uther lied. “You are not to blame for any of this, Arthur.”

 

Arthur stormed off and Merlin slid into view. “Ah, children. Rebellious cretins, aren’t they?” she teased.

 

That drew a small smile from him.

 

“Yes, you all give me quite the headaches,” he said. She gaped and he froze. He’d…included her in that statement, as if he’d considered her a daughter.

 

She coughed embarrassedly before speaking news, “I saw the Black Knight be hit with a mortal blow. He lives still. He should be dead, and Gaius suggests he already is. Tonight, Gaius and I will go to Tristan Dubois’ crypt.”

 

“You will report to me afterwards?”

 

She nodded, “Yes. I’ll be by to report our findings.”

 

“Good. I’ll be seeing you,” he nervously said.

 

She sighed and reached out to squeeze his shoulder reassuringly. “I will be back soon.”

 

This was going to be probably the first time she had left his side, after trailing him as his shadow since the appearance of Tristan’s physical ghost. It made him nervous, she could see.

 

He nodded slowly and she left to find Gaius. Best to get it over with so she could hurry up and do her current job.

 

Finding the broken sarcophagus did wonders for her stomach, as did the research she and Gaius did in finding out what it was. A wraith.

 

“As a wraith, it cannot be killed with any mortal weapon. It will not stop until it receives its revenge,” Merlin said, disquieting Uther with the information.

 

“Using magic to harness Tristan’s grief and rage against me…she will stop at nothing, will she?” Uther growled.

 

Merlin pursed her lips and lightly slapped his shoulder, “Do not start tormenting yourself over this. Pull yourself together. You mustn’t let Nimueh distress you like this. You need to be calm and calculating if you want to fight against her.”

 

“I know. I’m sorry,” Uther apologized in slight embarrassment.

 

“Good. Now I’m going to go back and catch some sleep.”

 

Uther panicked, “Don’t go.”

 

“Nimueh isn’t going to kill you in your sleep. If she was going to, then she had plenty of times before this to do so,” Merlin bit out, irritated.

 

“Just don’t go.”

 

She sighed in aggravation and let him get ready for bed, sitting herself on a chair and plopping her feet up on the table. Uther went to sleep and she resigned herself to staying awake and keeping watch.

 

When morning came, she dragged her feet to follow after Uther stealthily to the stadium, tired from no rest. Uther glanced back once in worry, but continued to stride confidently when Arthur joined him and she had to slip more into the shadows. Sliding into position beside Gaius, she waited for the match to begin.

 

As regretfully expected Pellinore didn’t stand a chance and was killed by Tristan. The Black Knight went again to throw down his challenge and Uther tried to stop his son. Only, Arthur didn’t get up to get ready to pick up Tristan’s gauntlet. He got up to throw his own down and challenge the wraith.

 

Both Uther and Merlin grimaced and narrowed their eyes. After Tristan’s wraith accepted, Uther confronted Arthur in the throne room, with Merlin listening in from her usual spot.

 

“I revoke the challenge.”

 

“You can’t. It’s against the rules and I have to do this if I am to prove I am worthy of the throne.”

 

“You do not.”

 

“I do.”

 

“You will surely die,” Uther insisted, slightly on the edge of desperation. Though, probably only Merlin would notice something like that.

 

“What little faith you have in me, Father,” Arthur bitterly said before walking out on him.

 

“Ugh,” Uther growled in aggravation.

 

“He will come around,” Merlin said, but she didn’t move from her spot. Still, he took comfort in that she was there.

 

When Gaius entered that night, she slipped out of the room and wondered if she could use magic to destroy the wraith. Well, that idea went out the window when she cast fire at it and the fire didn’t do anything. The bloody bastard just stood there. And when the fire went out, his head snapped towards her and freaked her out, making her run away.

 

Going to Arthur, she anxiously told him not to fight.

 

“Not you too, Merlin,” Arthur glared at her.

 

“You will die against him, Arthur,” she pleaded.

 

“What is it with all of you? Do none of you have faith in me?”

 

“It is not faith we lack…it is hope,” she softly said cryptically.

 

Arthur stared at her, taken aback. “What is that supposed to mean?”

 

“That thing out there is no man. It doesn’t eat, sleep, nor rest. You are flesh and blood. That thing out there is not human.”

 

“What am I to do?” he asked in frustration. “I cannot run away and be a coward.”

 

“You are not a coward,” she said fiercely, surprising him again. “I will not lose my King to death.” Echoing the her of the supposed future, already referring to Arthur as her King.

 

“Your…King?” Arthur asked in shock.

 

“You will not die tomorrow, Arthur Pendragon. I will not let you die,” Merlin looked him in the eye, before leaving in the usual heated Pendragon way, a way familiar to Arthur when he saw it.

 

She left because she knew it would be fruitless to keep trying to convince Arthur. But she was determined to find some way to at least help him.

 

Merlin slipped back into the throne room, watching as Gaius left with a stony expression.

 

“You were gone,” Uther immediately noted.

 

“You’re that in tune with my presence?” she lightly joked.

 

“Yes.”

 

She only blinked in surprise, but a small smile formed on her face anyway.

 

“What was Gaius doing here?”

 

Uther snorted, “Telling me what you’ve already told me. And trying to convince me to tell Arthur the truth. I remembered your words and told him no. Where did you go?”

 

“I tried to destroy the wraith with magic. Didn’t and got a heart attack for it. Then I went to Arthur to try to convince him not to fight. That didn’t work either. He refused.”

 

Both of them rolled their eyes at their stubborn friends and grinned at each other in shared exasperation.

 

“Are you going to skulk here in the dark for awhile, like a vampire?” Merlin smirked.

 

“A what now?” Uther furrowed his eyebrows.

 

“…A creature of the night that feeds off the blood of human beings.”

 

“…What strange animals that are part of your world…”

 

She laughed, “Don’t call them that to their face. They’ll kill you faster than anything else, I’m sure. Now, like I said, are you going to stay here in the dark?”

 

Uther looked hesitant, “Something is telling me to stay here.”

 

“Then I will stay here as well.”

 

She moved to her usual spot, further hiding in the shadows as she, too, felt like something was going to happen that night.

 

And happen it did.

 

Nimueh appeared, startling Uther and putting her on edge. But Merlin didn’t reveal herself just yet.

 

“How does it feel, Uther, having that which you cherish the most in peril? Your son will surely die and it will be your fault. This is my revenge, Uther Pendragon. For banishing me and murdering so many of my kind,” the beautiful sorceress glided closer, smirking cruelly.

 

Merlin tensed, jaw clenching.

 

“You killed Ingraine,” Uther hissed angrily, glaring heatedly at her with a fury Merlin had never quite witnessed from him before.

 

“I had no choice,” Nimueh coldly returned. “I did as you asked. But for a life, a life must be taken. I was your friend, Uther. But she had to die to preserve the balance. If I had known the depths of your vengeance, I would never have helped you.”

 

“I wish you hadn’t,” Uther emotionally admitted, chest heaving with the heavy breaths he was taking from rage.

 

“You wish you hadn’t a son?” Nimueh asked in slight shock. Then she laughed lightly in cruel amusement, “Then you will get your wish soon enough. Arthur will die tomorrow. So many I’ve loved have died at your hands, Pendragon. Now you will know the same pain.”

 

Uther looked away and sat heavily on his throne, but when he glanced back up Nimueh was gone. He heard the almost silent footsteps of Merlin move towards him from her hiding pace, and he turned to her for comfort. Instead, he saw a cold sorceress, glaring at him with icy eyes that condemned him on the spot, much like the condemning looks he’d sent her in the beginning.

 

“I thought you cherished Arthur, that you would do anything for him?” her voice had a frosty quality to it that made him flinch. He averted his eyes. “You regret your decision so much that you would regret Arthur’s existence?!” her voice rose dramatically.

 

He didn’t answer, knowing that Merlin would go on regardless.

 

But he heard the underlining meaning, even without her having to say it next.

 

“Without Arthur, I have no destiny. Without him, I have no existence. I am nothing with Arthur. There would be no meaning to my life without his existence in it. If you regret your own son, then you regret me. Does no one but Ingraine hold a place in your heart?”

 

“I will not let you speak to me like that,” he half-heartedly ordered.

 

She pursed her lips and then turned sharply on her heel to leave, and he realized how many Pendragon traits the sorceress had picked up and habitually started using as her own.

 

“Please…don’t go,” he muttered. “I have lost so much…Ingraine…I know I am losing Arthur, and I’m not sure I ever truly had Morgana. I don’t want to lose you as well.”

 

He looked down and curled in on himself.

 

And then he felt a slim hand rest itself on his head and he slowly looked up. Merlin stood there, still with a cold look on her face, but her eyes were reluctantly soft.

 

“I understand,” she murmured grudgingly.

 

He stayed silent.

 

“I hate that I do and I hate your reason, but I know your reason still. Ingraine was the love of your life and losing her cut deep. It’s not really Arthur you regret, it’s that you had to lose Ingraine in the process. You’ll never really regret Arthur, it’s regretting making a decision that cost you her. Try to make due with the rest of us, alright? We’re here and we still care.”

 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered unevenly.

 

Her hand left his head, and he sharply glanced up to see her turning and walking away.

 

“Where are you going?”

 

Merlin half-turned to face him, a blank look on her face. “I am still angry at you, and regardless that you didn’t mean not regretting Arthur, it was still said. Even if it was in the heat of the moment. Think back and reflect, will you? I must go and find a way to kill that wraith.”

 

He said nothing and she left him.

 

After finding out about fabled swords, Merlin was off to make her own. Getting the best sword from Gwen’s father, she hurried to meet the Great Dragon, hoping to finish before tomorrow came.

 

“Why should I?” the dragon barely looked at her, huffing. “You should just let Uther die. Let the wraith take his revenge.”

 

Merlin gritted her teeth, “Because Arthur will be fighting tomorrow and he will die. Then I have no destiny to speak of.”

 

“Oh, very well. But only Arthur may wield it. You don’t understand the great power the sword will be granted from me.”

 

“I’m sure,” she muttered.

 

“I am very serious, Sorceress. The sword will be extremely powerful and so must only be used by Arthur. In the wrong hands, it will be used for terrible evil. You must promise me no other than Arthur will use it.”

 

“I promise.”

 

He blessed it and Merlin triumphantly received it, rewrapping it in a scarlet cloth.

 

“Heed my words. The sword was forged for Arthur and him alone.”

 

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The golden crafted sword beautifully rested in her hands, and she admired it in the slim show of daylight through the window. Holding it up, the light glinted against the gold carvings.

 

“That’s a fine blade,” Uther’s voiced held a tinge of sorrow.

 

Glancing at him coolly, she gently placed the sword back on the cloth, not yet wrapping it.

 

“It’s for Arthur,” she stated without inflection in her voice.

 

He winced. Gazing at the sword in wonder, he asked, “Something to fight against the wraith?”

 

“Yes.”

 

The short answers were purposeful and they both knew it.

 

“He won’t be needing it today.”

 

“Why not?” she asked in surprise, not being able to help it.

 

“I will be taking Arthur’s place,” Uther revealed solemnly.

 

She stood up abruptly, coming over to his side. “You mustn’t.”

 

“Of course I must. He is my son. I will not sacrifice him. May I use the sword?”

 

“It was forged for Arthur. It cannot be used by anyone else,” she grimaced.

 

He nodded understandingly, “I see. Fit me for battle.”

 

“I don’t have your armor, Uther,” Merlin said, face completely crumpling and showing her worry.

 

“That’ll do. It will likely to make little difference.”

 

She hit his shoulder, “Quiet you. Don’t say such morbid things.”

 

“There is no hope to get rid of Tristan other than my death. And so I must. His grievance is with me. The fight is mine.”

 

Frustrated, Merlin began fixing armor on him harshly. Her hands fumbling with the clasps, she stopped and took a breather, leaning her forehead against his chest plate.

 

“Use the sword.”

 

She could feel him stiffen.

 

“Did you not say it was made for Arthur? Will there not be consequences if I used it?”

 

“You won’t defeat the wraith without it. Arthur is not ready to be King…and I won’t let you die,” she muttered painfully. “I will take responsibility for breaking my promise.”

 

“You’ve always had such extraordinary loyalty,” he said fondly.

 

“It’s my duty,” she laughed weakly.

 

“Beyond the line of duty. And for that, I am grateful. Take care of him, will you?”

 

“You won’t die, Uther. This sword and I will not let that happen. You will not abandon Arthur in death. You will not fail me,” she insisted, echoing his own sentiments of her to him.

 

“I will wield it with honor and do my best to defeat Tristan,” he promised.

 

“Laestan Uther Pendragon aet geweald galdorcraeft,” she sung, placing her hands on either side of his head and leaning up to pull him closer, resting her forehead against his. He glowed gold and then she stepped back, watching him upsettingly.

 

He looked at her in astonishment, “What did you do?”

 

“I didn’t curse you or anything,” she glared half-heartedly.

 

“I know that…but what was that?”

 

“I blessed you with protection with magic,” she admitted.

 

“I will go in confidence and hope. I will not fail Arthur…or you.”

 

She handed him the blade carefully and he experimentally swung it.

 

“It has almost perfect balance,” he commented, staring at it.

 

“Take care of it,” she muttered.

 

“I will. Don’t…worry.”

 

“I’m trying,” she sighed.

 

“Will you not come watch me fight?” he asked apprehensively.

 

“In a moment,” she glanced at him. “I don’t know how calm I am.”

 

“It will grant me much courage if you were to walk me out.”

 

And she couldn’t refuse that.

 

They walked out together until she had to go in hiding, and he continued to walk by himself, surprising the crowd with his appearance. She saw Gaius and slipped in next to him, drawing a curious glance from him before he returned to watching the King worriedly.

 

“You can have what you came for. The father, not the son,” Uther stared down the wraith, and her gut clenched horribly.

 

And soon the fight began. She remembered shooting forward, gripping the wooden barrier in front of her so forcefully that it almost splintered, her knuckles turning white. She watched in fear and anxiety, and wondered where Arthur was and how the hell did Uther managed to coerce him into letting the King take his place.

 

Right now, she felt like she needed Arthur’s soothing presence to calm her down.

 

Uther managed to knock off Tristan’s helm, revealing the head of a decayed and decrepit corpse. It roared horrifically, startling the crowd and shocking Uther, and it charged towards Uther with a terrible force. Before they had been well-matched, but now the wraith of Tristan surged forward with rage and more power, almost overpowering him.

 

Uther was knocked to the ground, his sword clattering to the ground beside him, and the wraith swung his sword over and over at him, slamming against the King’s shield. One particular blow was so powerful it had pushed the shield up to Uther’s chest, only an almost invisible golden glow had emanated from Uther and pushed it away. Merlin was sure only she and Uther had seen that.

 

The wraith’s sword caught on Uther’s shield, and he took it off, letting the wraith struggle to remove his sword from the shield. Quickly rolling and grabbing his sword, Uther got up and pierced the wraith. He ran it through the creature and it screamed, bursting in an explosion of light and fire, black cloth pieces scattering around them.

 

Uther stood up unsteadily, yanking his helm off and the crowd burst into applause for him. Merlin breathed a sigh of relief and sagged with exhausted joy.

 

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Uther groaned, “I thought you said a wraith couldn't be killed.”

 

Merlin silently snorted, knowing Uther knew there had been a slim chance as long as he had that sword.

“Yes, it was remarkable. Is that a new sword, Sire?” she flinched at Gaius’ question.

 

“It's the best I've ever fought with.” She proudly smirked at that.

“May I have a look?”

“I was intrigued by those markings.” So was she, while they’re at it.

Gaius examined the sword curiously. “On one side, it says 'take me up'. On the other, 'cast me away'.”

“What does that mean?” She wanted to know that too.

“May I ask who made it, Sire?” She pouted by the obvious dodge from Gaius, but continued listening.

“Merlin gave it to me. It was forged for Arthur.”

 

Arthur burst through the door, and Gaius made a quick exit.

 

“Well, that should heal pretty quickly. I’ll be back to redress it tomorrow.”

 

“Thank you, Gaius. Thank you for everything.”

 

“You had Gaius drug me! I was meant to fight him!” Arthur yelled once Gaius had made his escape.

“No, you weren't,” Uther firmly stated.

“But the knight's code...”

Uther interrupted, “Be damned. I believed you would die, and that was a risk I could not take. You are too precious to me. You mean more to me than anything I know. More than this entire kingdom and certainly more than my own life.”

Arthur looked shocked, “I always thought that...”

“What?” Uther asked upset, having somewhat of an idea of what his son was implying.

“Well, that, I was a big disappointment to you,” Arthur answered in a daze.

“Well, that is my fault and not yours. You are my only son. And I wouldn’t wish for another,” the King told him sorrowfully.

 

Arthur was quiet, looking bewildered but happy.

 

“I heard you fought pretty well,” he looked at his father, slightly smirking and gathering his wits.

 

Uther’s lips turned up slightly, “Thanks.”

 

“You should join us for training. Sort out your footwork,” Arthur teased, even with his face looking serious.

 

Uther laughed lightly amusement. “I’ll show you footwork.”

 

He got up quickly and chased Arthur, aiming a kick at his son’s bottom as Arthur ran away with a small grin.

 

Uther was still grinning slightly, before an edge of weariness started to show.

 

Merlin stepped out from her hiding place, watching with him with wide, watery eyes and a trembling lower lip.

 

“What’s wrong?” Uther’s eyes widened with confusion.

 

“That…was so sweet,” and she burst into tears. He awkwardly patted her back in comfort.

 

“It’s okay. It was just…me trying to tell Arthur some truth,” he muttered.

 

“But –father and son moment! It was so cute,” she sniffled.

 

He coughed embarrassedly.

 

Calming down, she held out her hand for the sword. He delicately placed it in her hand, and she wrapped it up in the scarlet cloth.

 

“I have a feeling he won’t be very happy I let you use it,” Merlin sighed. “He was very specific on that Arthur was the only one to ever wield this sword, and in the wrong hands it would cause great evil. I really think he included you in that.”

 

“The dragon then? He’s the one who furnished the sword and the one you go to for advice?”

 

She raised an eyebrow.

 

“There’s no one else like you that can offer you the valuable advice and information that you seem to be able to come up with. I’m assuming he’s waiting for me to croak already, and my son to become King.”

 

“It does feel like that at times,” she admitted with a wince. “I think he’ll ask me to get rid of it. He’ll be terribly angry.”

 

“You will get rid of the sword then?”

 

“Yes, after I meet him tonight. No doubt he’ll call then.”

 

Uther nodded, “Wait with me until then?”

 

They sat together quietly that night, and then the Great Dragon called. Merlin winced, sending a look towards Uther before standing up and leaving. He hesitated, thinking to join her, but instead stayed and thought on something else.

 

That night was the same night that Merlin realized the true depth of the dragon’s power, and witnessed the terrifying sight of the full force of its wrath. She left quickly to dispatch of the sword in a place no one would ever be able to find it or use its power, into the depths of a lake.

 

And as she finished casting the sword into the lake, Uther trudged down to the bowels of the castle, gently holding a cerulean cloth-covered object.

 

The dragon roared when it saw him, breathing fire heavily towards him, but Uther stared stoically back at it, undisturbed.

 

“Uther Pendragon,” it growled as it settled down.

 

“Dragon,” Uther’s monotone was back in full force.

 

“What can I do for you?” the dragon asked sarcastically.

 

“You furnished the sword that was for Arthur. I need you to bless this sword as well,” and Uther pulled the cerulean cloth away, revealing a sword made completely of glass. It was an ornate gift, made just for decoration from Nimueh to Ingraine. It wasn’t magical, except for the protective enchantments etched into the handle.

 

“It is perfect for defense for its protective enchantments, but if you bless it it will also be just as useful in attacking.”

 

The Great Dragon laughed raucously, “And why should I do this for you? Why should I gift you with such power?”

 

Uther sneered, “It is not for me, you fool. It is for Merlin.”

 

The dragon eyed him quietly. “So the sorceress has made an ally out of you. How interesting.”

 

“I will die soon enough and Arthur will be King. But I am in no hurry for death. I won’t die just yet,” Uther said coldly.

 

“We will see about that,” the dragon smiled widely, showing rows of sharp teeth.

 

It magically floated the sword to him and breathed fire on it, and soon enough it was like looking at an almost twin of Arthur’s sword. It had silver crafting that mirrored the golden craft on Arthur’s sword, embedded into the glass. The glass handle had a silver cord crisscrossing around it, like the gold cord of Arthur’s. But this one also had an added tassel that Nimueh had weaved to tie around the base of the handle, serving as an added protective charm.

 

Uther took it and rewrapped it, leaving without another word. The dragon’s eyes bored into his back intensely.