Disclaimer: I do not own BCC Merlin nor do I own Disney’s Frozen.
His golden head bobbed in place as his eyes kept drooping down to close. His blue eyes flashed open as he heard the noise of his cupboard opening in the bed chamber. “Sorry, sire,” the servant, George, said as he realized he had shut the door a bit too hard and had woken the monarch. Arthur waved his hand into the air and yawned as he arched his back against the chair. Three days now of endless storms, rain, and sometimes just a mist that settled over the land. Three days now of him reading every inch of both of the journals. He had them now practically memorized. Merlin’s was the hardest, at first, to understand. The boy had written it starting from a young age and almost as an afterthought to the day. They were short logs of his musing, anger at being locked up, and then later his fear of Arthur finding out about him and killing him. He had almost felt like crying to read the scribble saying how Merlin had actually feared lighting candles for a week after the first sorceress had been burned in the court yard. The biggest thing, though, was the shock that went through him to find out that Merlin had never studied before he was locked away.
Then the anger came over him as he read that Gaius taught Merlin the words of the incantations needed to try and get the boy to control the wild side of his magic. Merlin, according to Gaius’ journal, wasn’t a sorcerer, but rather he was a warlock. A child who could do magic, powerful magic, from a very young age, and Merlin was even more special in that he could do his magic from birth. Merlin, in his journal, had thought he must have been cursed, but Gaius’ journal told that it hadn’t been a curse that the boy had been born with.
The sorrow filled pages of the physician countered the fear filled pages of the boy’s. Arthur had read both of them as if he could hear their voices in their writings. Gaius calling the child a gift and Merlin calling himself a monster was hard for the king to read.
He read in Gaius’ journal about his mother’s death and the time his father had enacted the law against magic. The account had continued and Arthur was sure that his own memories must have been erased at some point during his childhood. He saw in the journal that Arthur and Merlin had been best friends, he remembered that much, but he couldn’t figure out how the untrained magic user had not let magic slip during the time he was young. Arthur had gripped his head at that point and tried to remember if he could of any time where Merlin had used magic. He couldn’t though, and the storm raged outside letting him know his friend was certainly very powerful.
Council meetings had happened two and three times a day. Refuges were coming from all corners of Albion. They were trying to evade the storm that had now covered all of the kingdoms. Crops were drowned, live stock had been drowned, some villages had been buried in landslides, and new lakes were emerging where people had once dwelled. The lords were begging for the kings to do things in every corner of the lands. Arthur had sent messages to the other monarchs asking if they knew what they could do. So far the only thing he had received back was to get people to higher ground and pray to God to let the storm end soon. Two of the magic using kings had even sent that, even though they knew Arthur’s stance on magic, no sorcerer could end this plague. He knew, though, that what they had written was a lie. There was a sorcerer, or rather a warlock, who could end this terrible storm.
Arthur stood from his desk and popped his back in a few places with a good stretch. His servant quickly darted from making the bed to where Arthur was going to behind his dressing screen. He needed to dress quickly now since he had taken the small little nap at his desk over Merlin’s last entry.
At last he was on his way to the council for their morning meeting. They had too many deaths now from the torrential downpour. He walked through the large double doors and into the room where everyone was sitting on either side of the long table. He took his place at the end of the table in the larger chair, the throne room type chair, and nodded the meeting to start.
The lords started to clamor all at once about the state of Camelot and the kingdom. They had too many refugees and not enough rations. Wood was now scarce to keep people warm since the rain and mist had seeped through to make everything too wet for burning. A cold, cough, and pneumonia had begun in the people as their lungs were being filled with the moisture of the air and their bodies trembled from the perpetual cold. If drowning and starvation didn’t kill the people than the new sickness would surely do the final job of it.
Arthur looked over to his uncle at his right, “What do you suggest we do?” He needed guidance. This was not how he had thought his first week of reining would be like. He had imagined his best friend where his uncle now sat, but obviously that was not how fate had deemed his sovereignty to be.
The man looked troubled for a second being asked and then said slowly, “We need to finish this storm any way we can.” Arthur sighed and looked at the grain in the table in front of him. The smooth sanding job had brought out the knots and patches of perfection. He nodded to his thoughts; he needed to sand and smooth his friend into letting the storm go.
“I will end this storm,” he said definitely. “I will go out and find the one who created this storm and force its completion…”
“You cannot go alone, sire. It is too dangerous to approach the sorcerer,” his uncle protested. He leaned forward and put a hand onto the king’s shoulder, “Maybe I should go in your stead…”
“No!” Arthur said forcefully. He said in a softer tone, “No, Agravaine, I cannot allow anyone else to approach him.” His uncle looked liked he had been slapped and Arthur continued, “I know you want to keep me safe, but I did cause his outburst.” The older man nodded his understanding as he withdrew his hand from the shoulder. The other lords agreed with their king but insisted he bring alone someone else to keep him safe.
“I have a knight in mind and I think as long as it is only the two of us, then Merlin will listen to reason and release this curse,” he said as he stood up and dismissed the council. He would leave at dawn the next day and try and find what the scouts they had out for the three days now hadn’t. He knew he would be able to find the scared boy who had been forced to run from the citadel and he needed to tell him that he was sorry for his father’s transgressions.