Merlin Part 2
“So they were all serious when they said that?” Merlin clarified, for what was probably the fiftieth time for Emrys. He just wanted to be absolutely sure godhood was the only solution that didn’t involve a painful death.
Unfortunately enough for Merlin, it was.
“Yes Merlin, they were all being serious. Typically when a council of gods tell you something gravely, they don’t lie.” Emrys teased, and Merlin fought the urge to scowl at him. This was still a god he was talking to, even if he was a dead one.
“Well let’s be honest for a second, the old religion does have a penchant for lying to people and causing issues for the fun of it.” Merlin mumbled, earning a firm look from Emrys, “Oh come on! Why can’t you just do this? Daghda, Taliesin, the Morrigan, everyone! They all said you were dead, and that’s why I had to do it. You look perfectly living to me!” Merlin complained.
“I’m merely a fragment of a soul that the Earth deposited into your soul to help you on your journey.” Merlin couldn’t call a god a dollophead, could he?
“So what do I have to do to get this over with?” Merlin demanded, suddenly feeling tired of never getting to do what he wanted. He would boss this god around, Emrys himself had said he was only a fragment of a soul! Emrys couldn’t do anything to Merlin!
“You have to absorb me.” Emrys said cheerfully. Merlin’s heart stopped.
“What?” He asked, too shocked to raise his voice. That didn’t sound right, Merlin must’ve misheard.
“You…have to absorb…me!” Emrys repeated, slower. Merlin scowled. Why did everyone treat him like a child? It was exhausting! Merlin was really struggling here.
“Yes I knew that! I meant what the fuck do you mean I have to absorb you?” Merlin snapped. Emrys flinched, and it made Merlin want to laugh. Emrys was the one that kept talking about how Merlin was a mortal, what could Merlin possibly do that concerned a god? Albeit a dead one, but still.
“I mean, you must absorb my essence. Your magic is betraying you because it is technically still my magic. Until you accept your fate as Emrys, not just my predecessor, not just a powerful warlock, your magic will keep fighting you. So Merlin, are you ready to become Emrys?”
Merlin gulped. The thought was terrifying. But it was for the greater good, right? Maybe this would finally give Merlin to confidence to reveal his magic to Arthur. Or well…amicably reveal it when he wasn’t delirious.
“Fuck no!” Merlin hissed, giving Emrys his decision. What type of maniac would do that? Merlin still wasn’t convinced he wasn’t gonna return to a gods be damned purge 2.0 because Arthur went crazy.
“That wasn’t a choice Merlin. Surely you can tell all the stasis spells the council has put on you are the reason you’re alive. Why do you think Cerridwen is still here? For fun? She has a life, as do the rest of the council. This is of the gravest importance. Magic cannot be successfully purged from Mother Earth! It spells chaos and death for all mortals! You will die the moment you step out of Trials of Badurn. Are you willing to give up your life because you fear the repercussions?” Emrys demanded, and Merlin stepped away from the god.
“What the hell does that mean? What repercussions?” Merlin asked, though deep down he knew.
“Don’t kid me boy, I know everything going through your head. You are me!” Emrys bellowed. Merlin snarled. He was taking out his own angers on the god, he knew, but it was deserved! Merlin deserved to be mad! He deserved to yell after being shoved into a prophecy and losing any chance he had at a happy life! None of his friends would forgive him now, he’d lost every family member but his mother. Gaius could’ve been banished from Camelot for all he knew! Merlin didn’t even want to think about Arthur.
“Will you just shut up?” Merlin shouted, more directed at the racing thoughts in his head than Emrys. Merlin didn’t notice that Emrys went silent for a few moments. But when he did, it was like lightning went off in his head. Merlin was in control. This Emrys was a mere figment of imagination compared to Merlin. Emrys may have once been a god, but he had been dead for a long time now. “What does absorbing you actually entail?” Merlin inquired, and he didn’t miss the flash of approval on Emrys’ face.
“You’re beginning to understand, I see. Absorbing me is a matter of understanding. Your magic fights you because you fight yourself. You don’t believe in your own abilities, you don’t believe in your power, in yourself. Believe you are Emrys, and you will be.” Emrys said. Merlin considered it. This all seemed like some speech his mother of Gaius would’ve given him. Merlin swore to the gods, if this could’ve all been solved by some lecture by Gaius he would burn down the Citadel.
“Well I know I’m the most powerful magic user on Earth, how else can I ‘believe?’” Merlin asked.
“That’s up to you.” Emrys shrugged, and Merlin stared at him blankly, mouth falling open.
“And I can’t leave here without dying. But I also don’t know how to fix this? Are you telling me that I’m stuck here indefinitely?”
“Perchance.” Emrys mumbled, picking at his fingernails. Merlin gaped at him. These were gods! Why did Merlin have to do everything?
“That!” Emrys bellowed, shocking Merlin out of his anger. Gods. They had no sense of volume control.
“You’re going in the wrong direction, Merlin! Whatever it was you were thinking! I can feel it!”
Merlin stared at the god in thinly veiled horror. What the hell?
“I can think whatever the hell I want! Am I not a god?” Merlin hissed, and Emrys flinched.
“You don’t understand Merlin.” Emrys said, disappointedly.
“Of course I don’t! You won’t explain this to me like a normal person! You sit here, acting all high and mighty, but I control you! I am in charge in this situation, and I demand that you tell me what to do.” Merlin yelled, knowing full well he sounded like a small child throwing a tantrum.
“There is no normal way to explain this, for neither of us are normal. I am the fragment of a god, and you are a god to be. You will not understand your power until you understand yourself. Be honest with yourself, and that is something only you can know how to do.” Emrys commanded, and Merlin sat down to steady himself. What was he to do? Merlin did not lie to himself, to everyone else, of course, but not to himself. Never to himself.
What could it possibly be? What internal fight could be so terrible that his own magic tried to leave his body? Merlin did not understand. What did Emrys want?
Emrys was magic itself, was he not? So why couldn’t Emrys just snap his fingers and fix Merlin’s magic?
“That is the question, is it not?” Emrys chuckled, and Merlin snarled at him. What made Emrys think he the right to listen in on Merlin’s thoughts?
“They are just as much your thoughts as they are mine, boy. What aren’t you getting? What will it take?” Emrys insisted. Merlin groaned. Why did Emrys believe Merlin was him? He had no right to Merlin’s thoughts, to his magic.
Merlin thought of everything he had done for Arthur in this past decade. The witch that had first brought him here, the Sidhe, all the spells, Kilgarrah, Uther, Morgana, that had all been Merlin. Not Emrys. Emrys may be magic incarnate, but Merlin’s magic is his own. He controls it, not the other way around. Merlin uses it for Arthur, for his mother, for Gaius, for Gwen, for the knights, for his family. Not for gods who had lost their battle already. Emrys was simply a part of Merlin, in the same way his magic was a part of him.
That was the lie. He was not Emrys, Emrys was just his magic. Emrys was Merlin. Merlin was the most powerful warlock in the world, and the most powerful there would ever be. Merlin was a god. Merlin was ready to accept that now. He understood what it meant. What he had to do.
Merlin turned to Emrys, who seemed to flicker in and out of existence as Merlin watched him.
“You get it now. Took you long enough.” Emrys—Merlin snarked. The longer Merlin watched the once-god the more he looked more like Merlin himself. Facial hair disappeared, eyes lightened just a touch, he became just slightly more muscular, a bit less lean. Merlin wanted to scream. It truly was just accepting he was a god. Merlin had a choice in much of his destiny, much more than Kilgarrah wanted him to think, Merlin realized. But this was not something he had control over. Merlin was Emrys, just as Emrys was a part of him.
Emrys was king of the druids. And now that burden had been passed to Merlin. Emrys was as much as a title as king, it was not a person, not a god, it was simply a title. A name. One that now belonged to him.
Emrys left the Tuatha De Danaan as soon as he could. He bid them farewell, thanking Taliesin and the Morrigan specifically(and possibly throwing a dirty look and rude gesture at Aengus) and set off back to Earth. First Merlin went to the Library Keeper, and he took as many of the books in the Library of Taliesin as he could carry. Then he returned to the mortal realms, finding Iseldir and Kilgarrah waiting patiently for him.
“Em—Merlin! That was quick! Have the gods given you answers?” Iseldir greeted, not noticing the difference in Merlin. But Kilgarrah did.
“Hello, young Emrys. I take it you found the solution on your own?” Kilgarrah asked, to which Emrys smiled at the dragon. He wondered if it would be easier to command Kilgarrah now that he accepted his powers.
“I did, thank you. I would not have lived through my predicament without you two.”
They traveled back to the druid camp, where Merlin was promptly given a golden circlet, and crowned King of the Druids. It was unnecessary, the title of Emrys did that on it’s own, but it felt nice. To be appreciated like this. To be worshipped.
Now it was time for Camelot. While magic was no longer outlawed, or at least it wasn’t when Merlin had left, flying into the Citadel on a dragon that had tried to destroy it was not a good idea. Emrys insisted Kilgarrah and the druids who had demanded on coming with him stay outside, and they would be welcomed later.
So now Merlin walked into his home away from home, just realizing that his mother had no clue what had happened to her son. He felt guilt as he walked to the thrown room, ignoring all the soldiers and guards who tried to stop him to ask if he was okay.
Merlin slammed the doors open with magic. It felt so much more natural now. He walked into the Pendragon thrown room in druidic clothes and a new found confidence filled the air. He and Arthur were equals now.
“I am Emrys, King of the Druids, God of Magic, Druids, and Mischief. I am the Bringer of Magic, Light, Darkness, and all other things from the Old Religion. Or as you know me, my friend, Merlin.” Merlin smiled, the one that Arthur had fallen in love with without the god’s knowledge. And with a twinkle in his eye, he rushed up to Arthur Pendragon, King of Camelot, and gave him a hug in front of the entire council.