Assassination
Chapter 17: Assassination
It wasn't fair! Penelope wiped an errant tear away angrily, grabbing large bushels of lemon grass off the ground. The more she wiped, however, more tears would follow. Why did everyone always blame her?!
She was crouched in the herbal field outside Camelot's gate behind the kitchens. Penelope had been sent there as punishment for dropping the mead on the sleeve of the Head of Housekeeping. Nevermind that it hadn't actually been her, but rather the young woman next to her, a 14 year old child that was recently added to staff. That nasty, smarmy smile of the Head of Housekeeping kept plaguing her memory, as he'd told the child he'd let that affront go...if she would meet him after night fell in his chambers.
Before she could even stop herself, Penelope had insinuated herself into the middle of the exchange, insisting it had been her. Of course, her interception hadn't fooled anyone so, here she was, being sent to do menial tasks that were certainly beneath her, while that poor girl was probably terrified of nightfall. In the end, she'd helped no one and only added to her own misery.
Penelope felt like such a fool, as she sniffed, the sound ending wetly as she finished another basket of lemon grass and moved on to the thyme and rosemary. One day, they would see. She wasn't just a scullery maid. She was the scullery maid for the Queen's maids. One day, the Queen would notice her, see her loyalty. One day, she would be the Queen's maid, maybe even her Lady-in-waiting. After all, if a lady – in – waiting could become Queen, then why couldn't a scullery maid become a lady-in-waiting?
The sound of a branch splintering made her snap her head up in alarm, looking up in time to see a hooded figure emerge from the trees immediately in front of her. The hood on figure, decidedly womanly in shape, did little to allow Penelope to see much beyond the emerald colored eyes that gazed at her. Then she bent down to kneel in front of her, using two slender fingers to brush her tear swollen cheeks and eyes.
Her eyes, mesmerized her so much so that she found herself frozen in their power. Behind her, in the darkness of the forest, something slunk by, huge and menacing, with only the silhouette visible.
"Why do you cry, sweet thing?" There was a pause as the eyes searched hers and Penelope felt, in their etherealness that they were reading her, seeing into her very soul. "Ah. Pity. A frightened child and her guileless champion." She used the same fingers to angle her chin higher, enabling Penelope to see past the hood, and what she saw chilled her. It was a face that was as human as herself and yet, the frost that extended from her eyes, and seemed to seep into her very being told her that to underestimate her would an error of the gravest consequences.
She had scant seconds to register those thoughts before the hand that cupped Penelope's chin came to press her palm against her forehead and her eyes flashed a fearsome red. Her face contorted in pain for a moment before smoothing into a glassy stare. When the sorceress lifted her palm, a small symbol remained, in fiery red, a sun. Within moments, the sign faded and melted into her skin, erasing all traces of having existed.
"Well my gallant hero. You shall have that which your heart desires. A Queen's maid you shall be and revenge shall be your wine tonight." With that the sorceress withdrew her palms and blew over the outstretched palm as she pulled up close to her lips, like blowing a kiss.
It blew such a gale that Penelope was jolted out of her trance, blinking around and finding herself alone. Her hand still held a bushel of thyme, as she glanced around, searching for evidence of the woman she'd seen. When she found none, she touched the back of her hand to her cheek, wondering if her emotions had made her hysterical enough to make up things. Penelope shook her head and rose to her feet, gathering the baskets as she went, piling on top of each other. She turned and angled her head up to look at the minarets of the castle. One day, she thought, bracing the baskets on her hips, unaware of the sun sign blazing momentarily on her forehead before going dormant as she crossed the castle borders just a few yards from Merlin's broken wards.
The sorceress watched her leave, smiling to herself as she palmed the teal and emerald colored stone rested on her decollete, murmuring.
"It is done, my Lady."
The stone swirled with hues of purple and pink in response.
. . . .
"What you're saying doesn't make any sense, Elladora." Arthur strode back into the great hall, up to the dais, turning in a flare of robes as he faced her from the elevated height. Merlin thought he was going to strangle himself if he had to listen to Arthur bungle his way through Merlin's explanation again.
"I mean, I was there to witness it, sire." This was the first that Lancelot had spoken since their trek back from the castle walls. Arthur pursed his lips, clearly fighting to stay within his senses, but Merlin had very little patience left, expending it all on trying to stay calm.
There was a beast run amok in Camelot's borders and he was no closer than yesterday to figuring out what it was. He still hadn't been to see Lianora yet and he wanted to talk to Gaius in hopes of procuring a particular book he had in his personal collection.
"Witness what?" Arthur's voice was laced with annoyance. It seemed he was still having trouble reconciling his manservant as someone who would slit his flesh to scribble on the castle walls.
"Everything he's ever done that had magic since I've met him." Arthur made a half choked noise that bordered on indignant at the mention of sorcery. He swallowed it down, managing to eke out a response.
"And what would that be?" Leon, Gwaine, Elyan and Percival stayed silent through the exchange. Most times, Lancelot stayed quiet on the matter regarding Merlin. It was understood that the King had heard his opinions on the matter but beyond that they hadn't had such an explicit conversation about him since that night seven years ago and since then only briefly on the anniversary of his exile when they lay in drunken stupors from unofficially drinking in his memory.
"He killed the Griffin, he spilt the chalice when Morgana tried to take over Camelot and in every battle we've ever fought, he's always been there. I've seen him make the hilts of enemy weapons glow red hot in their hands, branches drop to knock out people who could have very well killed us. He's exposed plots to kill you in much the same way."
Arthur stared at Lancelot, words escaping his grasp. Merlin could feel his face grow hot, the more Lancelot spoke. Finally as the silence stretched in Arthur's speechlessness, with even Gwen unable of finding some way to clear the tension, Merlin coughed discreetly, drawing all the attention himself.
"I believe I have perhaps overstayed my welcome in the castle." He felt rather than saw Gwen's gasp and Arthur's look of surprise. He'd been here for a little over a day and already he could tell that maybe he had been too zealous in his hopes that he could make Arthur see his way. Now he was beginning to realize that he was intending to do nothing more than force his opinions on the man.
"Elladora! If I or," Here Gwen shot Arthur a stern look, as if to say 'if you had anything to do with this...' "or my husband have done anything to offend you, please do tell me. I'd hate for my savior to leave feeling insulted by anything I've done." But Merlin was shaking his head before the Queen had even finished her sentence.
" My Queen, please." He'd reverted to formal speech, the concept dawning on him that he was too familiar with the monarchs of Camelot. "I've done my part in showing you how I -" He swallowed, rushing to cover the slip of tongue. "How Merlin protected you, and in turn how you can protect yourselves. But there is someone who has need of me." Merlin didn't see the flash of a brief but familiar expression cross Gwenivere's face and the subsequent scrutiny with which she observed him.
Merlin could see the moment upon which Arthur understood where Merlin was trying to go.
"You want to go stay with Lianora." He nodded, and Gwen clutched his arm.
"Surely you could check on her and stay here in the meantime? I believe it would be far too burdensome for her to put you up in her home." Merlin thought, stumped by the truth of Gwenivere's observation. Arthur sighed.
"As much as you and I have our differences," Arthur looked like he was in physical pain as he said this. "I believe Gwenivere is right. You cannot stay with Lianora, but you wish to help her, just as you want to prove to me that there is, in your opinion, something within Camelot's borders that seeks to harm us. So it would seem that for the time being, we are stuck with each other until such time that we can safely say that the threat is past."
Merlin was silent, thinking it over. He wanted to help Lianora, but he needed access to Gaius to solve this problem that they had.
"Very well." He said, convinced for now, that it was in his best interests to stay. "I will accept your proposal for now. But if you'll excuse me, I think I'll check on the children and see Lianora now." Arthur raised his hands in a 'by all means' gesture.
"Please."
Merlin turned and left, unaware until he was halfway down the hallway that he heard Gwenievere's hurried footsteps behind him, struggling to keep up. He slowed down on purpose, thinking it rude to keep walking so that she couldn't keep up.
"Elladora."
"Yes, your Highness?"
"Are you.." She hesitated, unsure of how to continue. She found the courage to continue as they approached his bedchambers. "Are you in touch with – with Merlin?"
He nodded, untrusting of his voice at the moment, caught off guard by the question.
"Is he, I mean how is he? What does he do? Where does he live?"
He opened the doors to his rooms and found himself instantly embarrassed by the state of things. They'd only been there a night, but the room was trashed. There were clothes on the floor, on the beds, strewn by the window and washbasins. Before he could offer apologies or excuses for the condition of their rooms, Gwenivere had already gone in, picking up clothes and tidying.
"Your Highness, please. I'll clean it up. You don't have to do this." But Gwenivere paid him no mind and continued cleaning. "My Queen, really, this isn't necessary."
Gwenivere picked up the clothes Merlin had strewn by the bed last night, he grabbed them out of her hands, balling them up and holding them behind his back. Undeterred, she continued, a thoughtful look on her face. "Your Highness, your highness." Now he was just frustrated. "Gwen!"
He froze at the same time that Gwenivere literally stopped in the middle of folding Godric's tunic and placing it on the bed. She turned to him, eyes wide, the expression mirrored in Merlin's face. There was no way of mistaking the tone in which he'd said her name. Even with his voice pitched higher, the nuance was clearly his. Not Elladora's, not the sorceress that he was, but his. Merlin's. And Gwen knew it.
She dropped the maroon fabric and haltingly stepped towards him.
"I thought, maybe. But I didn't dare hope." She cupped his face with her hand, slightly cool to the touch and trembling. Gwenivere's face was hopeful, eyes searching his and Merlin knew that even if he denied it now, she would know.
"It really is you isn't it?" Merlin closed his eyes, took a deep breath, opening to see that she had stayed where she was, eagerly and slightly fearing his response.
"Hello Gwenivere. It's been a while-"
A heap of skirts and hair knocked him off his feet.
. . . .
It was silent inside the Terry Tavern, even if there were 8 people inside its walls. The place was closed for business, even if Lianora knew that closing for a day would mean a serious dent in her daily earnings. She sat at a table in the center of the tavern, looking at the wide expanse around her. She hadn't brushed her hair, or changed clothes. By her mind's calculations, it was now just before sundown, when the first of her customers usually arrived.
Lianora couldn't care less, her shoulders were slumped and her hands carded through her hair. Beside her, Della, Rowley and Earna sat, hollow eyed and with vacant stares. All of them unsure of how to work through the knot of emotions in her chest.
In her mind she could see Madalen smiling at her, making fun of her messy hair and calling her to open the ale barrels for the day. She could see her swirling around with a mop and broom, laughing and singing that awful song their mother used to sing with her voice that sounded more like a troll than a lark. The tears threatened to spill again before she noticed a broom mopping the floor behind her.
A broom minus the guidance of a person.
She started, whipping back to see rags wiping down tables and dishes scrubbing themselves. Lianora nudged Rowley.
"Oi. Rowley. You seein' what I'm seein'?" It took the boy a moment to focus but when he did, his jaw dropped open. Soon they were all staring at the sight around them. An entire tavern was cleaning itself!
Well. Not quite itself. The perpetrators were finally spotted behind the counter, crouching so only the crowns of their heads were visible.
"Oi! What are you lot doing?" The broom beside them faltered and knocked over its accompanying bucket of washing water.
"Helga!" The voice was Salazar's and the sound made Lianora's mouth twitch.
"Sorry!" The water magically sucked itself out of the floor and back into the bucket, the broom cleaning even more vigorously than before.
The front door to the tavern opened and Lianora was about to tell them that the tavern was closed for the day when the figure stopped short.
"What in the name of Avalon is going on in here?" The light dimmed as Lianora's eyes adjusted and finally she saw the figure as Merlin. All around them, brooms dropped, dishes clattered into the sink, with some shattering and rags flopped limply onto the tables.
"Merlin!" Lianora ran to him, stopping jus short of throwing herself into his arms. The woman smiled at her, brushing her hair out of her face.
"Hello. I'm sorry it took me so long to come to you." She shook her head, suddenly not trusting herself to refrain from crying if she talked. Merlin patted her head and held up a finger as if to say 'hold on'. Godric, Helga, Rowena and Salazar hadn't emerged from their hiding places yet.
Merlin went and walked deftly around the counter, surprising them. They all jumped into standing, looking guilty. Merlin put his hands on his hips.
"What are you four doing?"
"Cleaning up?" Salazar said, voice hopeful. Merlin smiled at him.
"Cleaning? But you're all sitting back here, twiddling your thumbs, how could you be cleaning? Unless you're using magic." Godric gulped.
"But that would be silly right? You couldn't possibly be using magic. Not after I specifically told you that using magic would get us all killed, right?" This time all four shuffled their feet. Merlin knocked Salazar and Godric's heads together, ("ouch!") and pinched Helga and Rowena's noses for good measure.
"If I see you boneheads using magic again, I'm going to apparate you all back to Carhaix and make you stay with Derek and Eliana until I get back!" They rubbed their heads, glaring balefully at her. \
"I don't get it," Salazar whined. "The King knows, so why can't we?"
"Because everyone else still hates magic, you clot-pole." Merlin silenced Salazar's indignant 'hey!' By giving her a pointed look.
"Be nice you two. There's enough going on, without you two calling each other names. Now, go see if you can't make those three feel any better, hmm? I have to talk to Lianora."
"Yes, Mistress." The response was like a chorus and soon they were all with the three kids, tugging them into the back room, to give Merlin and Lianora space and to have space themselves.
Merlin sat down at a table, patting the table so that Lianora would follow and sit with him. When she did, Merlin noted that her eyes were red rimmed and distant.
"Lianora." The red head didn't look up, choosing to stare at the wooden swirls in the table.
"Hmm?"
"Lianora, look at me." She stubbornly shook her head, biting her lip.
"If I do, I'll see the pity in your eyes, and then I'll lose it. And I can't. I just can't. If I do that, how are those three supposed to cope?" Merlin felt his heart clench in sympathy. He knew what it felt like to some extent.
"I know. But we need to talk."
"About what?"
"About what you're going to do. Madalen – Madalen's gone. That mean's the Terry Tavern is yours to look after. How are you going to keep up with this? You were barely keeping up between the two of you." Lianora rubbed her face, finally meeting his eyes.
"I'll manage, Merlin. I always have and I always will." Undeterred, Merlin asked again, reaching to clasp her hand between both of his.
"How?"
This time Lianora stayed silent, for it was a question to which the answer still eluded her.
. . . . . .
It was nightfall by the time Merlin and the kids made it back to the castle. It had been a long day and Merlin's shoulders ached from the day's exertions. When they entered the main gates, Merlin found Gwenivere pacing in the front, dressed in a brilliant red gown, one that reminded him of the gown she wore to her coronation as Queen.
"Gwenivere?" She jumped when he called her name and her eyes brightened when they landed on him.
"Oh!" She ran over, grasping his hands, "I thought, maybe, that you wouldn't comeback."
"Why wouldn't we comeback?" For the first time, Gwenievere registered that Godric, Salazar, Rowena and Helga were with him and she stepped back, clearing her throat.
"I –uh- It's nothing. Dinner is about to be served, Mer-Elladora. Please. Join us in the Hall." Gwenivere flashed him a wide smile before making her way there herself.
. . . .
That night, after the children had gone to sleep, following a mini lesson about transforming inanimate objects into living creatures, Merlin stepped out of his room, and silently traveled through the dim corridors to the Queen's sitting room.
Once arriving at the doors, nodding at the two guards that protected the doors, Merlin knocked twice and the door creaked open to reveal Gwenivere behind it, dressed in white, chiffon casual dress, with her hair taken down from its elaborate hairstyle and left becomingly draped down her back.
She motioned him inside and after looking both ways down the corridors he stepped into her sitting room, allowing her to close the door behind him. Before he had a chance to sit down however, Merlin felt Gwenivere hug him from behind, her arms snaking around to the front and staying there for a moment before she released him.
Then she stepped out from behind him to go sit where she had been previously, indicating for Merlin to take the seat opposite her in front of the fire that she had blazing in the hearth between them.
"Arthur...?" Merlin asked without asking.
"He's still in the throne room with all the Knights. They're going over plans for the envoys from King Pellinor's kingdom that arrive next fortnight. Don't worry, we won't be over heard." Merlin nodded, steepling his fingers under his chin, aware of how Gwenivere was watching him.
"It really is you isn't it?" She asked softly, her eyes roving Merlin's effeminate figure, the lines of his face and the slender points of his fingers. Merlin bowed his head wordlessly, and the Queen watched the movement with something close to awe.
"How did I not notice before? Everything thing you do is exactly the same. From the way you talk to the way you act. It's always been you." Merlin sighed, raising a hand and flicking it in the direction of the door, casting a muffling spell on it to make sure they weren't heard by the guards that were posted outside the chamber before he spoke to her.
"How did you know it was me?"
"The clothes for one. I won't matter what gender you are, you still take your clothes off and throw them away in the same manner as before. Also, no one but you and Arthur call me Gwen. Even Elyan calls me Gwenivere." A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. He should have known that he would be able to fool everyone but the Queen. Gwenivere had always been the most observant of all of them, even more so than Lancelot.
"But why are you hiding? Why are you a woman?"
"I needed to be someone else for a while. It's too hard being Merlin." It was the first time he'd said this to anyone, he thought as Gwenievere reached over to put a hand on top of his comfortingly.
"Being Merlin meant I was a criminal with no where to go. But as Elladora, I don't have anyone to answer to but myself." Gwenivere said nothing and sympathetically squeezed the hand she held. "But even I know I can't be Elladora forever. At some point I have to go back to being Merlin. I just don't know how."
"So the children?"
"They're like me Gwen." He said earnestly, leaning forward unconsciously. "But they don't have a choice, like everyone thinks that you have to learn magic, that you can't have it unless you learn it, but they're wrong. People like me and them. We don't have a choice." He said it softly but it came out sounding like a plea for someone to understand.
"We didn't learn magic, Gwenivere, we are magic. If we don't learn how to control it, you can kill people just by thinking the wrong thing. It's important to have someone to teach you. That's all I'm doing. Those four have strong magic, stronger than I've seen in a long time. If I don't teach them how to use magic without proper training, it'll be dangerous, for them and everyone else."
"And you're doing this alone? With no one to help?" Merlin slumped back into the chair, pulling his hand from hers. She followed it however, coming to perch on the arm of his chair, pulling him into a sideways hug, one arm around his shoulder that pulled him to her.
"Merlin, you've been doing this alone for 7 years? Playing parent to four small children. It can't have been easy." He stayed silent at that, unable to explain to her how the last 7 years of his life had passed.
"I thought about you everyday you know." The admission caused Merlin to look up at her sharply. She shrugged, rubbing his shoulder.
"Like it or not Merlin, the one who changed the old Arthur to the man I love, was you. It always was you. Even when you left, Merlin, he still didn't lose the things you taught him, The things he didn't know you've taught him."
He stared at her, surprise apparently so evident on his face that Gwen laughed.
"It's true, you silly, silly man." She paused and pulled away slightly, looking him over. "Or maybe I should say woman."
"Gwen!"
. . . . . . .
Clarine walked fearfully down the corridor, the hallways lit dimly. She was dressed in her work clothes as she made her way to the Head of Housekeeping's bed chambers. As she got closer, Clarine couldn't help but cry. When she'd told her mother that she would go work in the castle, this wasn't what she had meant. All she wanted was to earn higher wages to help her family get by.
She had 4 younger siblings, she thought as she steeled herself. She had to be strong, for them. She had to stay in the castle so she could make money. Clarine rounded the corner, to the hallway where The Head's chamber's were and stopped in her tracks.
The doorway to his rooms were destroyed. Splintered into a thousand pieces that littered the floor and stones that lined the doorway were knocked off, lying haphazardly broken along the splinters. The space that was crumbled along the walls was as wide five large iron cauldrons placed side by side.
Timidly, she approached the room, peering inside, her eyes went wide and she stumbled back, falling over stone bricks and scrambling back so she hit the opposite wall and screamed. Screamed so loud that it echoed all over the palace.
. . . . .
Merlin and Gwen sat up straight, startled by the sound. He ran over to the doors and opened them, sticking his head out and looking both ways. Gwenivere shouldered past him and took off running down the corridor, hands grabbing her skirts, hair flaring behind her as she went. The knight that had been at the door took off after the Queen and Merlin took off after them, cursing the skirts that got caught underfoot as he ran.
They followed the noise and got to the source almost at the same time that Arthur and the Knights did, with Percival leading the charge and taking care of the girl they found shaking outside the chambers. Merlin, however, reached the room first and glanced inside, Arthur coming in behind him, taking in the damage to the walls. They saw as they walked in that head of the Household lay on his bed, face frozen in fear, but what held their attention instantly was the dagger that pierced his left palm and anchored it to the bedside table next him.
Merlin gingerly knelt next to him, holding his wrist, to check for a heartbeat. He looked up at Arthur who gazed at him expectantly and shook his head, indicated the man was deceased.
"Surely that wound wasn't enough to kill him." The King said disbelievingly. "What happened here? Why is the state of the room like this. Wouldn't we have heard this level of destruction."
"No. He wouldn't have." Merlin bit his lip as he looked around. "This dagger is shoved through his hand, almost like whoever was here didn't want him escaping what killed him."
"This is it, isn’t it?" Arthur asked Merlin. "The same thing that killed the taverness. It's here. In the castle."
Gwaine grimly finished the thought that had entered everyone's minds at the King's words.
"And it didn't come here alone. This was an assassination."