Chapter Text
Merlin had concluded it was just something that happened because of his Magic. He had grown up with strange whispers in his ear, people telling him that he had been born with a gift that was dangerous. Occasionally, he could see those people, no more than grey wisps of smoke than hung in the air before vanishing. Most were sorcerers, creatures of Magic that spoke of the Purge in a way that supported what his Mother had said.
He was special, yes, but he was in great danger. Each person he spoke to had died in a horrible way, burned or beheaded or chased from their homes, from the oldest men to the youngest of children. The great Uther Pendragon, they told him, deserved death.
In Camelot, there were a lot more spirits. They clung to the dungeons, wandered around the markets and through the training grounds, looking rather lost. Merlin, by this point, had long learned that it was best not to admit he could see them. His Uncle wasn’t sure Camelot was a very safe place for a man that could see the ghosts of the Purge, but when he was appointed Arthur’s manservant, it became clear that he had to stay.
Ghosts avoided Arthur. He didn’t know why, but it was a pattern he picked up on quickly enough. They would see him, and the wisps of energy would vanish, retreating off to the far corners of the Castle or to stalk Uther. Merlin, for the most part, never bothered to acknowledge that he could see them. Sometimes, it was harder than he expected. Whenever a person was dragged in and accused of sorcery, it was Merlin that had to watch them burn, then watch as they stepped out of their body and looked around.
Sometimes, he’d even dare to meet their eye.
The thing about the victims of the Purge, was that they had knowledge. A couple were able to confirm the rumours of Morgana’s heritage, some spoke to him of the fact that Nimueh had been Uther’s friend, his Court Sorcerer. Merlin listened to the stories with interest, even managed to befriend a few of the ghosts that stayed in Camelot.
The ones that he met outside the walls of the Castle were less friendly. They didn’t trust him, not when he had betrayed his own kind to serve the son of their murderer. Some even tried to attack, but they could never touch him, even if he lost a lot of sleep because of Ghosts lingering in his room.
The first person he told, Gaius and his Mum aside, was Morgana. The Witch was discovering her powers, and so he admitted that he had Magic, and that he could see the people that died during the Purge. Anybody accused of sorcery, not just those who actually had the gift. The Witch was horrified, spent days listening to Merlin’s stories.
When she asked if he felt their pain, the Warlock had teared up. Of course he felt their pain, had to explain to children why they were stuck wandering the earth. He also showed her how he tried to send them on, giving them a nudge back towards the place they were supposed to stay.
They bonded quickly, and the ghosts seemed to find this amusing. They would follow them as they snuck out to practice Magic, or would watch Merlin as he waited on the dinner table of the Royal Pendragons. Morgana, for her part, never pushed too far.
It proved useful, to have the ability to speak to the dead. He could talk to them about what they had learned, about the spells they had used and the methods they adopted to practice their gift. He began to write down their teachings, into a grimoire that both him and Morgana could use. They wrote in the old language, occasionally in Latin, dipping into other languages that the ghosts could speak.
Most of them were ordinary people, but some were more intriguing. A couple from the continent, some from the furthest stretches of Albion, and Merlin listened to the stories while doing his chores or cleaning out the stables.
Lancelot was the second person he told, and the Knight looked horrified. It didn’t help that Merlin had been struggling for a couple of days with a particularly stubborn ghost that was trying to tempt him to kill the King of Camelot.
Arthur remained a repellent to the ghosts, driving them away as he moved around the Castle. As he grew into the role of Prince, Merlin encouraged him to learn about some of the old practices. It was subtle things, but Arthur was always responsive to learning, even if he would try and deny it.
The night that Uther Pendragon had a heart attack, Merlin finally found out why Arthur wasn’t haunted by ghosts. The King had been declared dead, found by his son, and the Prince had locked himself into his Chambers. Merlin propped himself up outside of the door, smiled to those that passed. The Round Table Knights, the ones that Uther never approved of, stayed for a while. Gwaine told him lewd stories about the Taverns, Percival whispered about the Druids that Merlin wanted to know more of. Elyan and Gwen were tucked side by side, Lancelot sat beside Morgana.
Leon was supposed to be sorting the household, but even he came to sit with them as they sat outside the Prince’s Chambers. When night fell, they eventually began to depart, and Merlin was left in the corridor by himself.
It had to be the middle of the night when he woke, felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle up in warning of the arrival of a ghost. None of them came close to the Prince, but perhaps now that he was a King, they would attack? Merlin prepared, went as far as to light the torch opposite him with his Magic, illuminating the corridor in front.
The woman was not a wisp of grey, but a figure of blue light, with a gown that reached the floor. A warm smile, eyes softening when she spotted Merlin, and the Warlock didn’t need to ask to know who she was.
‘Your Majesty.’ He murmured, slowly bending his back into a bow as he stared at Arthur’s Mother. Ygraine took another step towards him, lips curling up at the corners.
‘Please, you may call me Ygraine, Emrys.’
‘You keep the other ghosts away.’ Ygraine had not been a victim of the Purge, but Merlin supposed she had been killed because of Magic. By the disrupted balance of life, which actually made sense now that he thought about it.
The Queen laughed, a beautiful sound that rang out down the corridor, before she glanced down at him.
‘Your love for my son knows no bounds, Merlin.’ He blushed, mostly because he was talking to Arthur’s Mother, partly because he hadn't acknowledged those feelings anyway. It was ridiculous, to think that anything could come of his loyalty to the now-King of Camelot.
‘My Lady, I…’ He was cut off by footsteps, quickly returned to sitting with his back to the wall, vanishing the light as quickly as it came. Ygraine remained, glowing in the darkness as a Knight came walking past, nodding down to Merlin as he went.
‘One day, he’ll know of all you’ve done for him.’
**
Being Court Sorcerer to the King was a pain. Mostly because Arthur would summon him at the most random of times, demanding his assistance with something that could easily be done by hand. The Round Table Knights found it amusing, as did Gwen and Morgana, telling him that it was because Arthur was fascinated with his Magic.
Arthur, of course, would never admit such a thing. He grew into the role of King, with a strong leadership yet a kind heart, one that had all the people of Camelot swooning.
Today was no different, heading out of the Castle and towards the woods, in search of an object that could, if legend was correct, bring back the dead. Merlin and Gaius had picked up on the rumours that came to Camelot with a visiting noble, and had advised the King that the object be destroyed.
So, the King had organised the trip, leading the Round Table Knights and Lady Morgana on the path of this object, while Guinevere stayed to organise the Council. She may not be Queen, but she held Morgana and Arthur’s respect, and was the sister of a Knight, which made her eligible to be in charge for the brief departure of the King.
From the moment they left Camelot, Merlin had a bad feeling about their quest.
Sure, it appeared the same from the outside. Gwaine’s awful jokes, Lancelot trying to maintain a calm expression despite the fact he was being driven insane. Elyan occasionally throwing his own quips, while Leon reminded them they were on a mission. Morgana’s personality rubbed against Arthur’s in a way that had the King demanding her shut up, while Percival’s silence suited him. Merlin tried to join in, shoving down the terror that settled in his bones, but it wasn’t helped by the way his Magic sparked up.
‘These are dangerous lands, keep your eyes open.’ Arthur followed his words by clicking his tongue, heels digging into the side of his mare and entering the Valley. Merlin allowed Leon and Morgana to follow, before urging his own horse in succession.
‘Druidic lands, you meant.’ Morgana muttered, eyes darting back to Merlin. He could feel it too, but it wasn’t Druids, the Magic was darker. The mist crept in quicker than he expected, the plants in the valley looking unnatural.
‘I don’t like this.’ Gwaine’s hand reached to his sword, which Merlin could understand.
‘Merlin? Any bad vibes?’ Arthur called, right around the time that Merlin spotted the first ghost. Stronger than expected, almost on the levels of the Queen, which was worrying. Drawing from the bad energy in the Valley.
‘Now you take me seriously?’ Merlin shot back, tracking the movement of the ghost. These ghosts weren’t kept away by the vibe that Ygraine’s spirit left on Arthur, nor did they seem friendly.
‘You’re my Court Sorcerer for a reason, you idiot.’ Merlin didn’t want to admit he blushed at the thought of being Arthur’s, and from the way Morgana caught his gaze, she’d picked up on it. He cleared his throat, shuddered as he tried to get his mind back on the quest.
‘Prat. And something bad happened here. Magic-wise.’ Another ghost, standing closer. Moving towards Merlin, until Arthur’s head snapped towards him.
‘Am I the only one seeing that?’ Merlin almost toppled from his horse, watching in shock as the others spotted the ghost. There was no doubt it was a spirit, Merlin had long-since gotten used to them.
‘Merlin?’ Morgana sounded wary, staring at the approaching wisps of energy.
‘I never thought… this is bad.’ Arthur, the clotpole, was drawing his sword like it could cut a ghost. The others were dismounting, so Merlin copied, studying the ghosts as they were drawn in.
When he stumbled, Merlin realised that something bad was happening.
‘I don’t want to worry you, but I think they’re stealing my Magic.’ That drew Arthur’s gasp, the Knights looking at him in terror. Magic was still a thing they didn’t understand, a skill they viewed as a last resort. The fact it was already beginning to falter…
‘Morgana!’ Lancelot caught her as she fell, Elyan grabbing her sword as it fell from her fingers.
‘We need to move, now!’ They were drawing ranks around the Witch, while Merlin saw the approaching ghosts.
More of them. Too many of them, all trying to draw Merlin’s power. He tried to follow the Knights as they withdrew to what looked to be a cave, but his knees wobbled from the strain of holding himself up, and he tripped before he could stop it. His hands stopped his face from breaking the fall, heard Arthur shout his name as the spirits tried to close around him.
All this time, Merlin had viewed his skill as a burden. The ability to see ghosts, it did nothing but draw attention. Now, with spirits trying to drain his Magic in return for walking the earth, he decided to risk it with a bigger move.
‘Ygraine!’ He shouted, muffled under the sounds of the ghosts trying to attack him and the Knights as they tried to push them back.
Just as the first spirit reached for him, the noise around fell silent, the air cooling rapidly and a light drawing Merlin’s attention.
‘Step away from my sons.’ Ygraine looked furious, radiating the blue light that hung to her form. The ghosts, just for the moment, looked startled enough for Merlin to push through them, vaguely trying to reach the woman that had protected Arthur for so long.
‘Merlin, Merlin look at me! We have to get to Arthur!’ Soft fingers closed around his wrist, tugging him in the direction of the Knights. He managed to grab the sword that had fallen, the one Elyan had grabbed, and handed it across to the Queen as she shouted at Arthur to head for the cave.
He wished he could say it was a dignified retreat, but it mostly consisted of Ygraine wielding the weapon dangerously, whilst Merlin stumbled over his own feet. The cave provided a funnelling point for the Spirits, which would slow them down, but it wouldn’t be enough to…
‘Merlin, use your Magic.’ Ygraine prompted, pointing to the roof of the Cave. He realised what she meant a moment later, stretched his hand out and commanded the rocks to move. They tumbled down, a cloud of dust covering the group while Ygraine turned to her son.
‘Mother.’ Arthur looked… hurt. Morgana was standing up on her own now, came straight to Merlin’s side to help him up.
‘Arthur, my boy, look at you… All grown up.’ She reached out, but the effort of keeping her solid was beginning to drain Merlin, and he flinched.
Ygraine’s hand dropped, eyes darting across to him.
‘Forgive me, Merlin, that was…’
‘It’s okay, I can… I can hold it for a little longer.’ The Queen smiled, then turned back to the King, who was still staring at her with his eyes wide.
‘C’mon, we should give them a moment.’ Morgana stated, the Knights turning to move further into the cave, but Merlin knew he couldn’t move too far. He settled for leaning against the cave wall, allowing them a sense of privacy whilst close enough to maintain the connection.
‘How is this…’
‘Merlin can see the dead, the ones harmed by the Purge. We met the night your Father passed, though I’ve been watching you both for a long time.’ Her fingers traced along his cheek, delicate yet affectionate in a way only a Mother could imitate, and it made Merlin long for his own Mum. Was that how Arthur felt, when he went to Ealdor and met Hunith?
‘All this time, you’ve been watching?’
‘I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Arthur. My son, my brave Prince, and now my handsome King.’ His eyes fluttered shut, tilting into the touch while she caught the stray tear.
‘I have to go, Arthur. I can’t stay connected for long, but what you’re looking for is ahead, down this pathway.’ Merlin turned away guiltily as he listened to Arthur’s protest, to the fact he had to deal with his Mum vanishing just moments after she’d arrived. If only he hadn't been drained earlier, then the power of the Valley might have given Ygraine longer. Time to tell Arthur all she’d done for him, the fact she protected him from spirits.
Then the Queen ducked her head to speak to her son, to murmur something into his ear that had Arthur blushing, gaze darting across to Merlin. Whatever she’d said… it could be bad, but Arthur then chuckled.
When Ygraine stepped back, her attention turned to him.
‘I’ll see them off, hurry now my boys, my power can’t last long.’ Arthur was by Merlin’s side in a heartbeat, wrapping an arm around him and hoisting him up.
‘Ah, you should just go on…’
‘And replace my Court Sorcerer? That would mean I have to deal with Morgana.’ His nose wrinkled, but the smile was genuine, and Merlin couldn’t help but smile back.
‘Later, we’re going to have strong words about why my Mum likes you that much.’ Arthur added, before he bent down and scooped Merlin up, despite his protests.
‘I can walk!’ Arthur laughed, but continued down into the darkness after the Knights.
‘You make a good damsel in distress.’