Sister Act

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur had taken a few steps forward but stopped when Merlin spoke. He still believed it too dangerous to send Merlin out on his own, but deep down, Arthur also knew that he would not prove to be very useful if he could not even walk without a limp if they did indeed come across the immortal army. He wondered if this was some sort of subconscious suicide. Was he searching for death? Had he weakened that much that this seemed like the only way to escape this pain and fear his heart was consumed with? He did not know how to cope with it. He could allow tears to fall; he could sit in the corner for days; he could distract himself with actions . . . but it seemed that none of these were good enough. It seemed that everything was crumbling. Falling apart. And he was totally helpless to aid anyone. How many people were dying in Camelot? Was his father dead? Guinevère? The knights? The citizens?

His thoughts were once again only slightly distracted when Merlin told him to sit down. It was clear that the two of them were stubborn when it came to certain things . . . such as this. Arthur was not going to comply. He was not going to just sit down and let Merlin go off on his own, even if Gwaine and Elyan were there. It was not just about that. It was about Arthur's inability to just sit here. Yet, it was contradicting for he felt as if he couldn't do anything else but just sit around. Waiting. Unsure what he was waiting for.

Arthur just stood there, keeping his back turned to Merlin for a few more moments before he slowly turned his head, not fully looking at him as it was only turned to the side rather than all the way behind him. "I . . . " He controlled his voice, somehow miraculously keeping it composed enough to speak without it cracking or him needing to catch his breath in between. "Need to do something." He then just gave Merlin a quick glance before averting his eyes to the ground. He hoped Merlin understood what he meant by that. That he needed to keep himself busy. That he needed to do something. Even if it was just attempting to catch food. He did not wait for his response. He just paused for a few additional seconds before turning his head back to look ahead of him, and continued to walk forward. He had a feeling Merlin would follow . . . but Arthur would not ask him to.

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[em]

He could Arthur’s mind was running ten to the dozen right now. He wouldn’t be surprised if the prince suffered a massive overload from thinking too much – causing smoke to come out of his ears. Should the situation have been different, Merlin would have laughed at this image. In a situation like this? Nothing was funny.
Morgana had betrayed them all. Uther, Arthur, Gwen, the knights and him. He knew he should have just listened to the dragon and allowed her to die when he had the chance. This was something that he’d now regret and even though it sounded harsh, he wished that he had just left her lying there at the bottom on the stairwell.

"I . . . " Arthur had his back to him – obviously not wanting Merlin to see how upset he was. Merlin knew that the prince wasn’t about to cry in front of him, but he could tell that he wanted to. Merlin wanted to cry himself – cry with anger, frustration, hurt, misery and pain. Arthur had once told him that no man was worth his tears – no woman should be either, and Morgana certainly wasn’t worth them. "Need to do something."

He glanced back to Arthur who was looking at him and then headed for the opening. He knew that Arthur wanted time on his own, but with Morgana’s men out and about – he could protect the prince far better when he was with him, rather than just Arthur alone. He knew the prince wouldn’t stand a chance should anyone attack him. No – he needed to go too.

Following Arthur out of the cave, Merlin quickly told Elyan where they were going and to keep a lookout for anything or anyone suspicious. When they were a little further away, Merlin caught up with Arthur.

“Im coming with you – I wouldn’t want that armour getting too dented now” he gave him a weak smile laced with some sadness to it.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur heard Merlin follow him out of the cave, and then briefly tell Elyan that they were going to get food. At least it saved Arthur from having to do it . . . for truth be told, he wouldn't have even bothered. He would have just gone right ahead, which was what he was doing right now. They didn't have a crossbow or many weapons accurate for hunting . . . other than their swords. But it would have to make do. Of all the things they didn't have right now, a weapon was not on top of the list of most missed. "I'm coming with you – I wouldn’t want that armor getting too dented now." Arthur gave an equally faint and weak smile upon his words. It was very forced; as he was appreciating what Merlin was trying to do . . . even if no words could subside the pain that any of them were feeling right now.

"At least you won't have to worry about tending to my armor anytime soon," Arthur said, having tried to make an equally joking comment, but the implications behind the words just seemed to suck the jest out of them. It implied that . . . that they could die in the very near future. Or that they would never return home. Nor have a home to return to. It could mean a lot of things. Which only made it increasingly difficult to stay optimistic under the current circumstances. Arthur didn't want to talk about it, and yet he had so many questions . . . ones that he couldn't even expect Merlin to know for this was news to everyone. All the people were equally shocked by her betrayal. The only one who would have answers was Morgana, and Arthur doubted he was capable of having a conversation with her right now.

[em]

Arthur had headed out of the cave faster than Merlin had ever known the Prince’s legs to carry him. He had to keep a close eye on him, not only were Morgana’s men out there but Arthur wasn’t exactly in the right state of mind, nor did they have that many weapons for both hunting and defence. It was like Arthur had a death wish or something.
"At least you won't have to worry about tending to my armor anytime soon," Arthur, ever the optimist, was now mentioning. Merlin stopped, watching the Prince walk on ahead in front of him.

“You don’t think we have a chance do you?”

He knew that Arthur was thinking that they had a chance as slim as Merlin being crowned a king, than managing to beat Morgana’s army. Merlin himself knew that they were all hanging on by a thread, but there had to be a way to stop them. “Just say it” he carried on, “You might as well”.

Silence.

Merlin caught up with Arthur. “Im not going to let you die today” he told him sternly, “Im not going to let Morgana destroy your Camelot”. Over his dead body! Merlin didn’t care if he died whilst the others lived, as long as he knew that he’d tried and with any hope succeeded. “There are people back there – people who need our help – Gwen, Lucan, the King – they all need us, so we need to start thinking positive, even if the chances don’t look like that at all”.

[Arthur Pendragon]

"You don’t think we have a chance do you?" Merlin knew him better than most. He could read him, even if Arthur displayed no emotions on his face, nor spoke any words that were telling. He knew exactly what he was thinking, and he asked him a question that he could not quite answer. Because, he was right. Arthur did not believe they had a chance. He did not know any way of returning to Camelot, and it made him feel worse because he knew the people were suffering. That he'd left loved ones back there, and . . . Morgana. How could she do this. "Just say it." Arthur remained silent. "You might as well." Silence once more. He was so used to giving speeches of morale on the even of battle; of encouraging his men and giving them that hope and courage that they needed when entering a fight, or facing a dangerous situation. But right now, he himself had not morale. He felt his spirit was broken. That this depth of despair he was in was too deep and too wounding to find the hope that he needed to snap out of it. He just kept walking, but froze when Merlin spoke again.

"I'm not going to let you die today. I'm not going to let Morgana destroy your Camelot." Merlin's words of not allowing him to die, provided some comfort. He did not doubt Merlin's capabilities. Even if he was not as skilled with a sword as some knights, he had a strength of heart and determination that Arthur had seen in no other man. He closed his eyes for a moment, when Merlin began to bring up those who were back there. His father. Guinevère. Lucan and the other knights. He was terrified for them all. What if . . . they weren't alive? Would Morgana kill the king right away? Would she try to eradicate all those she knew would remain loyal to him, like the knight and . . . Guinevère. Arthur tried to compose himself, holding back tears but the sadness of all this only increasing. He opened his eyes once more, slowly turning his head to the side. Not fully looking at Merlin but the back of his head no longer being faced towards him. "What would you have me do?" He asked him, looking at him. A defeated look in his moist eyes. For he had never felt so helpless; so defenseless. How could he fight someone that he once called his sister?

How could he bring down an enemy that he'd spent his whole life loving and protecting. "I can't . . . " He paused, feeling his breath choke for a moment. His gaze fell to the ground. "How do we defeat an immortal army." How could fight this? "How can I fight . . . Morgana." He was not like her; he could not just suddenly want to kill everyone in sight who had once loved her. . . for whatever reason. He knew that Merlin was trying to be encouraging and hopeful. But Arthur felt there was too much darkness right now. He appreciated his friend's words, more than he was capable of expressing right now. And he hoped that Merlin knew that. That even without his ability to do anything; to feel like he could do anything . . . that he was grateful to his brother of heart. "What if." Arthur could barley get the words out as he began to say them, his voice coming out as a harsh whisper. "We're too late. What if they were they're already dead. He felt his body numbed with the pain of losing his father . . . of losing Guinevère. He would never recover from that loss. He would die even more than he felt right now. What if . . . she had harmed them?

[em]

What would he have him do? What would he have him do! Merlin gave the prince a small smirk. “Well for a start, you can get off of your lazy ass and help me take back Camelot? Or you could sit here all day eating some stale bread and allowing Morgana to think that you’re not strong enough to win back what is rightfully yours?” harsh it sounded, but it was true. Arthur needed to come out of his weak and defeated depressive daze – he needed to be who he was going to become.

We. They. Them. All of them would fight the army – even if it seemed impossible. “Even villains have their weaknesses too” Merlin told him. He knew what he must do, but how to go about doing it? Well…he had no idea. “You need to do whatever it takes. Eradicate the source of her power or something” Merlin shrugged as though he had no idea what he was talking about himself. “We can’t do it in just this small group – we need to get inside that castle and down to the dungeon’s where they are holding the knights. You know what Lucan’s like – one whiff of rebellion and he’s the first in line, and I’m pretty sure that Leon wants to see Morgana’s crown knocked off as much as anyone else here does.”
Merlin had to make Arthur see that his Knights were loyal to him and Uther. And only them.

Then there came the ‘what if’s’. “Don’t think like that” Merlin shook his head, “Gwen’s strong enough to look after herself and the others…” he trailed off. Morgana may have just got to some of the Knights already, but Merlin pushed these thoughts to the back of his mind. “…they are just as strong, besides – they wouldn’t have gone down without a fight and we would know about by now.”

[Arthur Pendragon]

"Well for a start, you can get off of your lazy ass and help me take back Camelot?" Usually Arthur could hold some appreciation for Merlin's mockery and sense of humor. But not right now; not when he was calling him a 'lazy ass' because he'd been numb with shock and hurt over his sister's recent actions. His father lied to him for his entire life. Morgana was his sister who possessed magic, and sided with a woman who was his mortal enemy. The woman he loved was back in Camelot, possibly . . . harmed. No. With all these thoughts that made him feel entitled to be shocked and hurt to the point of numb, made Arthur entirely unappreciative of this term. So he remained silent, knowing it would not be the end of Merlin's remarks. He knew that the ultimate message of needing to return was what he was trying to convey to him, but already being emotionally -- and physically -- weak was not increasing his sense of humor. He did not want to hear of how he was weak, incapable, submissive . . . when he did not even know where to go from here to begin with. It was easy to talk about, but more difficult to actually go. Not without a solid plan. And Arthur's mind could still not wrap itself around what had just happened.

He did not even have the strength to lash out against Merlin, speaking aloud how uncalled for, his insult was. "Even villains have their weaknesses too." He wondered if Merlin understood what he meant when he said he couldn't fight Morgana. It was not because she didn't have a weakness; it was because she was his weakness. "I can't, harm her," he said in a low voice. It was a strange thing to admit, but he hoped Merlin would know what he meant by that. That he could not hurt a woman he had grown to love and care about . . . no matter how easy it was for her to do it to him and his father, and all the others who cared about her. It just made him fear even more for his father . . . for Guinevère. The source of her power. And what was that? Morgause. He knew what that sorceress was capable of, but he also knew that he could not just go up to her and kill her. She was powerful. As was Morgana apparently. "You make it sound so easy Merlin," Arthur said, unsure of how to do all this.

He knew he was right to an extent, that they needed to get down there . . . to save the king at the very least. He did not know about the fate of the knights. He knew they were loyal to him and his father, but he also knew it would come at a cost. A lot of it would fall on Sir Leon. He was second in command, and Arthur's brother in heart. He was well aware of the pressures that would fall on him, for the others would follow his lead. He feared for him; for the man who had fought alongside every battle with him, the man he'd grown up with and easily called friend and brother. "They are going to be kept under heavy guard. It will be nearly impossible to get in there with four men." And that was assuming that the others would come with him. He did not doubt their loyalty, but he knew that it was a suicide mission. Arthur knew the castle like the back of his hand. It was one advantage he had over Morgana. But that did not mean he was going to underestimate them. They would have guards -- their immortal, undefeatable guards -- everywhere. And the King and Leon would be kept under a strong lock and key.

"Don’t think like that." Right. Merlin was right. He needed to stay positive . . . but that was where it seemed so impossible. "Gwen’s strong enough to look after herself and the others. . . " Arthur slightly shook his head. Guinevère was the strongest person he knew, but this was not about how much strength a person had. "She is close to Morgana." No longer in heart, but in proximity. He did not doubt Guinevère's loyalty, and that was something he feared more than anything else . . . what could happen to her. Morgana had already used her to weaken Arthur; how many times had she been in harm's way because of how he felt about her? "Morgana knows. She knows Merlin that . . . Guinevère means more to me than anything." Or anyone. What if she used that? Or what if she didn't need that? This was why Arthur was afraid, and why he wished he had not left in the first place. "They are just as strong, besides – they wouldn’t have gone down without a fight and we would know about by now."

There was so much at stake, and Arthur had never felt quite as helpless as he did now. He knew Merlin was trying to help by offering him hope, and saying that they needed to storm back in . . . but he could not be as optimistic, not with this frame of mind. "We wouldn't know. She could be eliminating one person at a time." What about the people? Not just the knights, but the civilians. The nobles. The servants. The citizens . . . what if they were all getting harmed? And he was all the way out here, unable to do anything to stop it. "How could I have not seen this?" He suddenly asked, questioning himself aloud rather than expecting Merlin to answer. "I thought I knew her so well. And yet . . . had not seen any signs." He was angry with himself for having been so oblivious. Did no one know about this? No one had any idea it seemed. He knew there had been unanswered questions -- especially on their mission to save Elyan -- but . . . never in a million years had he thought, or even considered the possibility, that Morgana was the traitor.

[em]

He could see that Arthur was in no mood for his little jokes. Merlin kicked himself mentally for being so insensitive. He had no idea how Arthur was feeling right now and he knew he should have just kept his big fat mouth shut.
“I'm sorry…I didn’t mean to…well, I didn’t mean to say that – you know I can’t keep my mouth shut in times of crisis” his eyes then widened when he realised what he’d now said, “Not that this is a crisis, I mean…well it is but not like a big one…as such…” he looked at Arthur. “I’ll shut up now.”

Merlin crouched down to Arthur’s level. “And we can’t do this without you”. It was almost like a plea. "You make it sound so easy Merlin,”
Merlin looked at him with some sadness to his eyes. “I know I know nothing, of what it’s like to be a prince, or how to run a kingdom – but I do know a fair few things about duty – most of which I’ve learnt from you. If we don’t do something about this – more people will be hurt than they have been already. We don’t know about your father, or Gwen unless we try – if we stay here…then we’ll never know, and that will hurt you more than it does now.” His words were gentle, “We can do this Arthur – even if it seems like we have no hope, we can do this.”. there was silence. "Morgana knows. She knows Merlin that . . . Guinevère means more to me than anything." Merlin shrugged, “and Gwen does too, which is why she has faith that you’ll help her in any way that you can.” He knew that Gwen would be waiting for Arthur to come – just like the Knights and Uther.

"How could I have not seen this?" Merlin looked up wondering whether Arthur was asking himself a question or whether he was directing it to him. Merlin shook his head. “None of us could’ve seen this.” Merlin had. The crystal cave had told him full well what was to come, and right now he felt like he’d let Arthur and everyone else down for not preventing it when he had the chance to. "I thought I knew her so well. And yet . . . had not seen any signs." Merlin looked to him; he had no idea what to say to that. “She was always good at hiding her feelings” he began, “signs or not, we couldn’t have stopped this. But we can now.” If Arthur chose to finally see that Camelot was in need of his help more than ever.