Down a Different Road

Summary: Magic has always lived in the heart of Camelot, but no one even knows it. And what if the very person was supposed to not have it? And he knows about the prophecies surrounding himself and another warlock: Emrys. No Slash. AU. Set between S2-4

~…~

A thirteen-year-old golden haired boy ran after his tutor, calling out his name desperately. The tutor looked over at the young boy and smiled sadly as he was dragged down the halls. He knew what was going to happen, and so did the boy. But the tutor did not regret it.

“Tom!” The boy yelled trying to reach him. Two girls joined him, one with black hair, the other brown. Their cries mixed with the boy’s. The black haired one stormed up to the gray haired man, her green eyes flashing in anger.

“He’s Arthur’s tutor! And he’s Gwen’s father!” She half shouted trying to hold him back. “What crime does he have for being a druid?”

The man glared at the girl coldly. “The druid was teaching Arthur about legends. Legends involving the dark arts. When you are older Morgana you will understand.”

Morgana glared at him. “No.” She growled through clenched teeth, “I will never understand.” She turned and stalked away her head held high.

Uther glared at her for a moment then raised his voice. “Guards,” he shouted, “Take the prince and my ward away.”

The golden haired boy and Morgana glared at him as the guards surrounded them. “No,” the prince said firmly his head held high. “I will not be taken against my will.” And with that, the prince and ward, both of them mirroring each other stalked through the doors, neither one of them caring for the consequences as they were followed by the guards.

~…~

The prince watched as the Lady Morgana paced his chambers. He was having a difficult time controlling his magic, and it wasn't getting any easier for his anger at his father was building.

It was so unfair. Why would Uther kill Tom? Why did he fear magic so much? For his own son had it himself.  The prince looked up as the door opened and the brown-haired girl came in.

“Gwen.” Morgana murmured and Gwen looked up.

“He’s going to kill me…” She mumbled her fear filled eyes looking at the ground. “He knows my Father is a druid and he’ll kill me.”

The prince stood up abruptly and walked over to her. “No he’s not.” He said firmly. “Guinevere, I will make sure that my Father will not kill you.” He gently lifted her chin up and she stared at him, her eyes afraid.

“Please, can’t you do anything?”

Arthur paused and bit his lip. “I can try.” He whispered, and he watched as a few tears leaked from her eyes, and she looked up, with trusting eyes and a watery smile on her lips. Arthur gulped. “I’ll try my hardest.” He added, vowing it.

“Thank you, Arthur.”

Arthur smiled in reassurance as Morgana walked over and she wrapped her arms around Arthur’s neck. “I know you will be a better king then Uther. Why he even does this-”

With a small gasp, Arthur awoke and he looked up into the concerned blue eyes. “Arthur?” A slightly anxious voice flooded into his ears. Arthur suddenly noticed that the sunlight was coming into the window, warming his face. He raised an eyebrow at his useless servant, who was watching him with apparent interest although there seemed to be a glow around him from the sunbeams. “Are you alright?”

Arthur wanted nothing more than to shout “No! I’m not! Go away idiot!” Instead he raised an eyebrow and said in what Merlin calls his ‘Prat-Voice’: “Why would I not be alright? In fact, you should be getting me my breakfast.” He said, putting strain on the breakfast.

Merlin rolled his eyes. “Are you sure you want me too, sire?” he asked sarcasm evident. “I mean you wouldn’t want too get too much fatter now would you? I mean you wouldn’t want me to put some more holes in your belt because you-” Arthur grabbed the nearest thing close to him (which was a goblet) and threw it at the servant’s head.

“Is there anything you would like to say, Merlin?” Arthur demanded, grumpily wishing that the manservant would go away. Just for five minutes, though, he really wanted breakfast.

Merlin paused then grinned somewhat cheekily. “Prat.” He sighed then added under his breath, “How in the world are you the Once and Future King?” He walked out the door.

Arthur stared at him wondering how he knew that. Maybe he’s heard the prophecies, but that still doesn’t explain how he knows it’s me…

The prince rolled his eyes, shoving away his thoughts about his mysterious manservant and an idea sprang into his mind. He bit back a smile and carefully looked out the door to see if anyone was coming. He let a grin spread across his face as he saw the no one would walk in (except for Merlin, but he would be down in the kitchen, obviously and that would take him ages to get back here).

Arthur looked at his hand and said clearly, “Forebearnen.” A small flame came to life and he smiled softly, wondering for what seemed the millionth time that week why Uther hated magic so much. Sure, it had taken his sister but any kind of power could corrupt. A king could become fraudulent, stealing money from his people so that he could support his own pleasures. 

He was so focused on his thoughts that he didn’t hear the door open. He didn’t hear the soft footfalls or the soft gasp, but what he did hear was the plate falling out of the servant’s hand and shatter on the ground.

Arthur looked up eyes wide instantly losing concentration on the flame and it went out. “Merlin!” He gasped out and the servant’s face went carefully blank. “I-it isn’t what it looks like!” He blurted out then he instantly cursed his stupidity.

Merlin raised an eyebrow. “Really sire?” He asked calmly, too calmly. Arthur knew he should trust his servant more, but he really was terrified out of his mind. “Because I believe I know what I saw.” Dropping pretexts, Merlin slumped and rubbed his forehead and he stared at Arthur and Arthur wished he knew what was going through his servant’s mind.

Arthur leaned into a wall and he rested his head against it and he watched as Merlin began to pace. He thought dimly how their roles were now reversed; usually he was the one who would be pacing and Merlin would be the one who was trying to explain. “Merlin… I… I can explain.”

Merlin turned to him and raised an eyebrow. “How long?” Arthur frowned and tilted his head in confusion, not understanding what he meant. “How long have you had magic?”

Arthur paused. “Since I was eight,” he whispered.

Merlin turned to him and raised an eyebrow. “You’re a warlock then, not a sorcerer?” Arthur gaped at him and Merlin huffed. “I am not an idiot.”

Arthur paused and looked out the window. He watched as the trees in the forest swayed and he wondered how he was going to explain to his manservant. “Yes, I’m a warlock. Do you even know the difference between a warlock and a sorcerer?”

Arthur turned around and he watched as his manservant’s expression changed. Before it had been uncertain but now it had morphed into one of understanding. “Yes, Arthur,” he said softly almost as if he was sharing a joke with himself. “Warlocks were born with magic but it usually doesn’t show until they are in their teens.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “Very good,” he said slightly patronizing.

Merlin huffed and began picking up the food. “I suppose you want me to clean this up as well prat? Oh wait, I already know you are going to say yes. Why can’t you just magic up the mess?”  

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “You’re accepting this fairly quickly Merlin,” he observed sardonically. “And I can’t ‘magic up the mess’ because I am the prince and you are the servant.”

Merlin rolled his eyes. “I’m not from Camelot. I can have my own opinions of magic.”

Arthur frowned at him slightly confused, Merlin had always seemed to be opposed to magic so why would he have opinions that seemed to be… open? “But you’ve always seemed to fear magic.” Arthur stated looking at the manservant in confusion.

Merlin chuckled, almost sadly, it seemed to Arthur. “No Arthur,” he said gently, as if forgetting that Arthur was the one with magic (and so he should be the one who was confused and Arthur be the reassuring one), “I’m not afraid of magic.

Arthur looked at him in utter confusion. Why was he always so adamant that he feared magic? Arthur began to look at Merlin in a new light, starting to wonder if he really knew his manservant. He had always known that there was something under the surface, he had just never wanted to know what it was, or maybe he had been afraid to know. “You’re not afraid of magic? But…” he trailed off.

Merlin shook his head almost knowingly at Arthur, and said prince felt a pang of fond annoyance, if that was possible. “I don’t hold anything against magic in the general sense, its black magic that I have a quarrel with.”

Arthur looked at Merlin, slightly shocked at his choice of words. He had not said evil magic or dark magic, but black magic. This was the proper term for magic gone bad.

Arthur rubbed his head and glanced at his, now apparently-slight-expert-on-magic manservant.  “How in the world do you know that? I mean the correct term for black magic?”

Merlin looked like he had been slapped. “Uh… Gaius?” It sounded more like a question and Arthur looked at Merlin suspiciously.

“Are you sure about that?”

Merlin smiled almost knowingly at Arthur. “Yes, Arthur. I am sure.”

Arthur smiled at his manservant warmly before he frowned. “You don’t fear me?”

Merlin’s smile was gentle. “No, Arthur. I don’t fear you.”

~…~

When Arthur walked into his room one day the first thing he noticed was the armor suspended into the air cleaning itself he instantly wondered if his magic had somehow gotten out of control. The armor collapsed and Arthur noticed the mop, bucket and broom-and a pale Merlin. He stared at the golden eyed manservant.

“Really?” Arthur finally groaned in annoyance. “You too? Why haven’t I figured this out, beforehand? Possibly around the time you figured out about me?”

Merlin gulped and Arthur raised an eyebrow. “Uh… habit I guess?” Arthur sighed, but not in anger, more in exasperation. Manservants are annoying. Really annoying. Especially Merlin. But at least that explains why he wasn’t afraid of me…

~…~

Merlin was excitedly dragging Arthur into the woods. Or he would be if Arthur had allowed him to. Arthur was following the manservant with no small amount of amusement. The manservant’s eyes were gleaming in a way that the prince had never seen them before. But Arthur wasn’t about to tease him for being a girl because he was sure his eyes were just as excited. Merlin kept babbling something about spells and colors but Arthur only had half an ear on him, mostly looking around in contentment.

The forest was golden now, it was warm out too, although they still needed to wear light jackets to keep out the winter chill. Arthur knew winter would be here before long.

Arthur paused then smiled as he saw the familiar path. “Merlin,” he said calling the magical servant back. Merlin appeared at his side tilting his head curiously. Arthur’s smile widened. “This way.” He added and ducked into an almost hidden path.  Merlin shook his head and smiled slightly before following him.

~…~

Merlin watched in amusement as Arthur’s eyes glowed and successfully dodged an out of bounds spell. Arthur cursed again.

“You have too much of a temper!” Merlin shouted delightedly, and buried his nose back into Arthur’s magic book. Arthur growled under his breath in frustration.

“Why don’t you try a new spell, Merlin?” Merlin looked up and coolly raised an eyebrow, before he directed his hand at the ground and said something under his breath. The earth rose and twisted around his hand before it sunk back to it where it was before. Arthur gaped at him. “Just how powerful are you?”

Merlin looked up and shrugged, smiling softly. “I honestly don’t know,” he replied simply.

“Well, what’s your magic name?” Arthur asked, tilting his head and sitting down beside him. Merlin looked at him in confusion, so he added, “every being has at least one, and some know them while others just do not. I’ve got at least two, Once and Future and Courage, or that’s what I’ve heard of so far.”

Merlin’s expression cleared and he smiled slightly. “Do you remember Mordred?” A strange look crossed the servant’s face but Arthur ignored it and nodded. “Well… I’m not exactly sure what it means, but he called me Emrys once, then with Grettir I was called Ma- Arthur are you alright? You look a little pale.” Arthur felt himself pale but he ignored that simple fact and was staring at Merlin in shock.

“You’re Emrys?” He asked a hint of disbelief, surprise and awe in his tone. Merlin shrugged, more than a little confused.

“Yeah… I suppose so. I asked the dragon once…” He looked confused and Arthur shook his head to clear it and exhaled through his nose.

“Merlin… the name Emrys… it is said that he will be the most powerful sorcerer… to ever live.” Merlin looked like he had been slapped, and Arthur smiled wryly. “How long have you had magic, Merlin?” He tilted his head at Merlin, who looked at him thoughtfully.

“Hmm… I think since I was born, or at least, that’s what mom says.” Merlin shrugged, sucking in his cheek. “I’ve had it as long as I can remember, and I know that that’s abnormal. But I’ve never really been around anyone else, other than you, Gaius and…” he trailed off. Arthur looked at him in concern. “Arthur, do you feel that?”

“Feel what?” Arthur asked, standing up and feeling his hand move to his sword. He watched as Merlin narrowed his eyes at a thick section of the brush.

“That… presence.” He replied absentmindedly. Suddenly the bushes trembled and two people fell out. Arthur’s eyes widened as he recognized them and Merlin moved in front of him. “Who are you?” He asked suspiciously.

“Wait, Merlin!” Arthur said, feeling the swell of power surround his friend and nervously glanced up at the sky for some reason unknown to him. Merlin glanced at him in confusion but Arthur shook his head. “Those are my old friends.” Merlin’s expression cleared up and he stepped aside. Arthur walked over to them and held out his hand to the younger, and smiled slightly. “Kay, do you know how dangerous it is for you and Galahad to be here?”

~…~

Arthur raised an eyebrow at the older man and watched Merlin out of the corner of his eye pour water, obviously interested. “Well, what are you two doing here?” He asked. Galahad, Lancelot’s cousin apparently, steepled his fingers and glanced at Merlin.  Arthur realized what the expression meant.  “He’s trustworthy, anything you say, you say in front of Merlin.”

Galahad nodded, although he still seemed to be suspicious. “Well… where do I begin?” He said thoughtfully. “I suppose at the druid camp, Kay?” He asked. Kay nodded.

“Aye, Galahad,” he said in his thick southern drawling accent. “The druid camp, sounds like a goo’ ol’ place to start, a’terall it’s where everythin’ begun to happen.” Arthur tilted his head, realizing that there was more to the story then he first realized.

“Well…” Galahad said slowly, his voice lilting upwards, drawing out his strange accent that Arthur had never figured where it was from. “Do you remember Iseldir?” Merlin’s eyes widened in recognition and Arthur nodded.

“Vaguely,” he admitted. “I was chasing after Morgana and Morgause at that time.” He added. “Why?” He added.

“We wen’ to ‘is camp ‘or shelter a’ter Uther chased us outta here. Tha’ is when ‘ee started ‘earing prophecies.” Kay said quickly, and it took Arthur a few moments to decode it. “It was ‘lose to a ‘lil town called Ealdor.”

“My hometown?” Merlin said, sounding interested. Kay glanced at him before nodding hesitantly, obviously not knowing where Merlin had been born.

Galahad shot them both reproachful looks. “Moving on,” he said. “Kay, I thought I was supposed to be narrating the story.” Kay looked at him unabashedly and Galahad huffed, obviously annoyed. “Anyways, we went to Ealdor when the camp started to tell us prophecies about the Once and Future King, you Arthur,” Arthur nodded and leaned back. “And Emrys, although we don’t know who he, or she, is.” Merlin looked mildly insulted, probably because he was referred to as a possible ‘she’. Arthur hid a smile. “Anyways, it is rumored that Emrys is hiding in Camelot-” The windows suddenly opened, due to a gush of wind. Arthur, Merlin and the two refugees glanced at it, then at each other.

“’oo did tha’?” Kay asked, obviously confused. Merlin walked over to the window and looked out and up.

“You mean, who summoned the storm.” Merlin said, stating it. He frowned at the sky then glanced at the window. “And how did this open?” He shook his head and his eyes flared gold, the window slammed shut and Arthur had a suspicion that he had locked it, because he was sure he had heard a faint clicking sound. Both druids glanced at Merlin in surprise but the manservant just smiled and shrugged.

“Well…” Galahad said looking a little taken aback, and maybe a little nervous. “Anyways, Emrys is rumored to be hiding in Camelot, and is protecting you, Arthur. It is said that he and you will usher a new age, for Albion. You’ll unite all the lands of Albion under one rule… yours.” Arthur nodded seriously and jumped as thunder boomed. He glanced at Merlin who was looking at the ceiling suspiciously.

“’eriously, ‘aht is goin’ on out ‘re?” Kay mumbled to himself, then stood and joined Merlin at the window. He stood still for a moment before he gasped and backed away from it. Merlin flinched and raised his hands to his temples, his eyes flared gold but nothing happened. The door banged opened and all four of them jumped.

“Merlin?” A soft voice asked, sounding confused. “Arthur, what’s wrong with Merlin?”

Arthur smiled grimly at her. “I don’t know, Guinevere.” He flinched as a particularly loud boom shook the castle-literately. He glanced at Merlin, worriedly, and noticed that his eyes were still gold. Gwen noticed his eyes, apparently, and her hand flew to her mouth, before she looked at Kay and Galahad, her eyes widening in recognition.

“Galahad? Kay?” She murmured reverently. Both druids smiled, Kay considerably warmer then Galahad, as the latter placed his hand on Merlin’s forehead.

“He’s burning up.”

Gwen knelt by her friend, disregarding the golden eyes, and placed her hand on his head, a frown of concern crossing her face. Arthur felt a rush of pride for his sweet, gentle and yet strong lover.

“Who is he?” Galahad breathed his eyes wide and confused. Arthur glanced over his shoulder and smiled slightly. “I’ve never felt such raw power in my life…”

Arthur smiled slightly, and then glanced at the storm as it got stronger. “The druids have called him Emrys.” He replied, his voice flat. Kay gasped then yelped as lightning hit the castle and the rain came down harder.  Galahad didn’t say anything.

~…~

The storm passed over them in about an hour, and Merlin was slowly getting back to normal, when Galahad marched in front of the warlock and demanded, “What was that!?” Kay made a sound of protest, but the druid’s gray eyes were fixed on Merlin calculatingly. “I’ve never in all my life… who are you?”

Merlin looked up at him in confusion. “I’m Merlin?” It sounded more like a question and Arthur winced, both from anticipation about what was about to come, and Gwen’s forceful glare.

“No, you are not just Merlin. I have never felt such raw power in my life!” Galahad looked frustrated while Kay was steadily becoming more amused. “The only person I’ve heard of that has that amount of power would be Emrys and he’s not even r…eal…” he trailed off, his mouth opening slightly as he stared at Merlin, who was becoming steadily more and more sheepish. “It’s impossible…” he breathed. Arthur sighed, and began to count in his head.

“Uh… I’ve been called Emrys before…?” Merlin offered, looking alarmed. Arthur reached five in his mental countdown.

“You’ve… been… called…” –Arthur reached zero in his countdown and braced himself. - “DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT THAT MEANS?!?!?”

Merlin jumped, his eyes widening. Galahad took him by the shoulders and shook him, hard. Guinevere gasped slightly and Kay winced. After about thirty seconds, Arthur took pity on his friend and grabbed the druid’s shoulders and pulled him back. “That is enough, Galahad.” He said firmly and Galahad exhaled heavily.

~…~

“I’m sorry that we can’t stay any longer.” Galahad said to Arthur apologetically. “I’m sure you’re father won’t be too happy to see us again.” Merlin rolled his eyes and Kay huffed.

“Tha’ ‘ould be understatin’ it.” Kay said, his tone dry. Arthur’s lips twitched upwards. Kay turned to Merlin and held out his hand. Merlin took it. “’ell, we’ll be seeing ya someday, Emrys, or Merlin, whichever ya go by.”

Merlin smiled wanly and shook his head. “Just Merlin, please, I’m not a… whatever Emrys is.” Kay chuckled and raised two fingers to his forehead. Galahad rolled his eyes and grabbed the druid’s arm and started dragging him to the horses and Kay protested loudly as Galahad threw him on top of the horse.

Merlin chuckled slightly and grinned brightly at Arthur, who smiled at him and slung an arm over his shoulders. “You know, of all people to have magic, I never would have expected you, Merlin.” Arthur said the smile slipping. Merlin looked down and sighed.

“Yeah, same here.”

There was a lull in their conversation, before Arthur smiled again, more softly then before, but more warm. “Come on, you idiot, I want to show you a spell that I found…”

~…~

Destiny had a strange way to make the unexpected happen; sometimes she would create twists and turns, other times it is like footprints in the sand, the path is very clear and easy to see. About one of her favorites was the time when she made a lesser known prophecy about the Once and Future King who had magic, and very few considered it, but that was the one that destiny ended up following…

~…~

“Do not go where the path may lead, go instead where there is no path and leave a trail.” Ralph Waldo Emerson

“No young man, no matter great, can know his destiny.”