6Chapter Three : The Decision
Merlin woke Arthur just before the dawn, the power of the holy place sending a jolt through him. They knew without speaking that the Disir were waiting.
They approached the cave side by side, as equals. The Once and Future King and Emrys instead of Master and Servant. It felt right. It felt so right that Arthur wondered how he could never have felt it before and he understood just a little of what Merlin had been telling him, how the magic hummed through the sacred grove.
Merlin had not asked Arthur what decision he had made. Had not tried to influence him one way or the other. Had said himself that it was a decision his King would have to make alone.
Even if Merlin's whole life was an argument all of its own.
Arthur knew that whatever decision he made Merlin would stand by it, even taking into account what he had confessed. If Arthur refused and condemned magic, Merlin would not protest, would do whatever Arthur asked of him. Because Arthur was his friend, and he trusted him.
That utter, soul-deep trust was terrifying. But Arthur knew that his decision had been made.
He laid his sword carefully aside and together they faced the three Disir, the pitiless faces of their goddess. They were eerie and strange and nothing like the magic that Merlin had shown him, that beautiful orb of light that somehow felt so warm and protective that all of his fears had melted away. They were the Judgement of the Old Religion, and he felt their power in a way that he had not before. Merlin had opened his eyes, and for half a heartbeat he wished he had remained oblivious.
But a good King could not be blind.
They spoke in those cold, emotionless, featureless voices. "You have returned."
"Is your decision made?"
Arthur closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. He could feel it. The tipping of fate. Of destiny. It was real here in a way that was almost tangible. "It is."
His voice sounded so small in comparison to theirs. The power of kings was nothing here.
The silence echoed louder than his words had. Arthur stiffened his shoulders, and then he knelt.
It was more genuine than it had been before, when he had begged for Mordred's life. Respectful rather than begrudging. Unforced. Beside him, flawless, Merlin bowed, even as his eyes were wide with shocked hope.
The words were difficult at first, but thinking of Merlin they came more easily. "I have been shown much this past night. Before today I had seen too much of the evils of sorcery, but now I understand that- that magic is more than that. I will return to Camelot, and I will rework the laws on magic." He hesitated for a moment, but then he remembered their words.
If you wish to save your kingdom.
There was nothing that Arthur would not do for Camelot. And, looking back at what Merlin had told him, he owed this to Merlin as well. Owed so much more than this. "I… I beg your forgiveness. For my ignorance. My blindness. And I ask that you not punish my kingdom for my actions; in return, I will seek to see more clearly in the future. And those who wish to practice the Old Religion will be free to do so."
Merlin was smiling at him, eyes shining with pride, with joy, even as tears slipped down his cheeks. How long had he waited for this day?
It was the least that Arthur owed his friend. For he could not imagine it, an entire life lived in fear. Because of his father. Because of Arthur himself. Yet Merlin had forgiven him.
The Disir eyed him from beneath their deep cowls. He could feel their stares like ice upon his skin. "Very well."
"We accept your decision, King of Prophecy."
"We will wait."
"We will watch."
"Do not disappoint us."
"Pray you do not see us again."
Then all three of them together. "Farewell, Arthur Pendragon."
A weight Arthur did not even realise he had been carrying fell away, as if the air itself had lightened, an oppressive power suddenly gone. He rose to his feet and bowed his head to them, then turned to leave in reverent silence.
As they were exiting the cave, Merlin paused, head tilted as if to words only he could hear. There was a whisper in his mind. The voices of the Disir echoed through his head.
"You have done well, Emrys," said the first.
"She grants a favour, Emrys," said the second.
And the third revealed. "The Druid Boy. There is nothing to fear from him as he is now."
Hope bloomed in Merlin's heart. Could they be saying… had he done it? Averted the prophecy? He had feared it for so long that he could barely believe what he was hearing. "But I have Seen…"
"Not all futures come to pass," said the first, sternly.
"Not all fates are set in stone."
"If the young Pendragon abides our words, such may yet be averted."
All three voices echoed with eerie finality. "Good luck, Emrys."
"Thank you."
They did not acknowledge him. He did not expect them too.
Side by side with Arthur, he left the cold cave far behind them, new hope blooming in his heart and their friendship shining brightly between them.