Merlin BBC fanfiction: What if Arthur "embraced" the Old Religion?

Show and characters belong to its original creators. No copyright intended.

(Takes place during the Disir episode season 5 episode 5)

“Stay close. Know your positions,” ordered King Arthur Pendragon to his men as they approached a small cave surrounded by willow trees and greenery. Almost all the men were dressed in chain-link armor with gauntlets protecting their wrists and swords handing at their belts. The man who stood out was a servant named Merlin. He had short black hair and was dressed in his usual attire of dark pants, a blue shirt, a brown jacket, and a short orange-red scarf around his neck. Ever since receiving an ominous token from a sorcerer, Arthur had decided to journey to this sacred place to visit the council of the Triple Goddess. However, it wasn’t planned to be done in respect; on the contrary, Arthur blamed sorcery and followers of the Pagan religion for almost destroying the kingdom of Camelot. Having saved Arthur’s life countless times, Merlin was ever loyal to him, despite possessing magic himself. Of course, he had kept that fact a secret from anyone except the physician and his father figure, Gaius.

Gaius had told Arthur that receiving the trinket was a warning from the ancient Goddess. Though Arthur had proven himself to be a just and generous king in contrary to his late father Uther, the gods were still angry with him. Fueled by a desire to set things right and maintain his honor, Arthur and his men rode their horses at first light, despite protests from Gaius.

“My lord.”

“What is it, Merlin?” asked Arthur.

“This place is sacred.”

“It’s a cave, Merlin.”

“It’s more than that.”

“Any one cave is the same as any other,” stated Arthur.

“You can’t go armed into a sacred place,” Merlin warned.

Arthur looked at Merlin, flabbergasted that he would say such nonsense.

“You want us to go in there, unarmed?”

They stared at each other.

“Of all the ridiculous things that you’ve ever said, Merlin, there’s been a few…that’s the most ridiculous. By far.”

Merlin grabbed hold of his arm before he could march further. “Arthur, I’m serious. The council in there do not tolerate any form of disrespect. They can magically incinerate all of us with a snap of their fingers.”

Arthur looked suspiciously at Merlin, not quite believing him. “How do you know all of this?”

“Gaius told me,” Merlin lied. Merlin figured that the council were not that cruel, but anything that could scare Arthur and make him see sense would be necessary.

Arthur sighed. “Fine. Everyone, place your weapons down over here,” he said, pointing to a spot to the left of the cave.

“There are wooden hanging relics in there, too,” mentioned Merlin. “It would be wise for your men to not knock them down and carelessly step on them.” Merlin remembered a triangular relic hanging from a tree nearby.

“Fine, we’ll be careful…just so you can shut up,” Arthur answered in frustration.

Merlin chuckled once Arthur walked away. All the men’s swords lay in a haphazard pile to the left. 

One by one, all the men entered the cave.

Sure enough, the cave was decorated with hanging wooden relics, with bird feathers attached in the center. Instead of pushing them aside, Arthur carefully maneuvered his way around them.

One of the larger men raised his hand to swipe a relic down, but Arthur gave him a glare that stopped him in his tracks. He reluctantly put his hand down and continued forward.

Arthur and his men entered a wider part of the cavern. The rocky ceiling was high above the ground. Light from a nearby spring lightly reflected off the walls. Everyone stopped and stared curiously at the individuals in front of them.

Standing in a line were three women holding stone staffs carved in the shape of spears. Their eyes and bodies were obscured by long dark hoods. They stared at the men intently, as if knowing they would show up.

“I am Arthur Pendragon, king of Camelot” Arthur announced. “I’ve come to know the meaning of this.” He held the round trinket in his right hand. Ancient runes were inscribed on both sides. Arthur was tempted to casually flick the object aside, but he held it on his hand.

“Grove of Breneved is in the Kingdom of Camelot,” Arthur continued, “subject to its laws, its decrees. Every man, however humble, however noble, has the right to be judged only by his peers. Yet you judge me in my absence. Explain yourselves.”

“We do not judge,” stated the first women in front.

“We do not condemn,” added the second woman.

“We are but the internuncio of the one who presides over all,” explained the third.

“Who sees all.”

“Who knows all.”

“The Triple Goddess,” they said in union.

“And you, Arthur Pendragon,” said the first, “have angered her.”

“How so?” Arthur asked. “Have I not been an honorable king? Have I not made Camelot a fair and just kingdom?

“So much is true,” said the second woman. “But you have denied the Old Religion. Dismissed its faith.”

“Persecuted its followers.”

“Even unto slaughter.”

“I fight against sorcery,” Arthur argued. “Superstition, that’s all.”

“Embrace the ways of the Old Religion, Arthur,” said the first woman.

“Or risk the ire of the Goddess,” said the second.

“The destruction of everything you most value.”

“The end of your reign.”

“The fall of Camelot itself.”

“I refused to be judged by those who do not know me,” Arthur argued.

“You are known, Arthur,” said the second woman. “You’ve always been known.”

“Enough!” shouted Gwaine, one of Arthur’s knights, stepping forward. “You speak of the king.”

With a tilt of the first woman’s chin, Gwaine was sent flying backwards.

One of the women threw a spear and it hit Mordred in the chest.

“Merlin!” Arthur called, in panic. Merlin saw what happened to Mordred and rushed to help. The knights carried Mordred out of the cave. The second woman threw her spear at Merlin, but Merlin sent it flying against the wall, using his magic.  The woman’s dark eyes were shown as she stared at Merlin.

Merlin stared back before following Arthur’s men.

Merlin and Arthur stood close to Mordred. His face was pale and his eyes half closed.

“How is he?” Arthur asked as Merlin unfastened his chain link shirt.

“It’s not a simple wound. Sorcery’s involved,” said Merlin.

“Is there anything you can do?” Arthur asked with concern.

Merlin went silent for a moment. He knew from a prophecy that Mordred was destined to kill Arthur in the future. Arthur favored Mordred and considered him the finest of his knights. Indeed, he had saved Arthur from danger on one occasion.

Merlin looked at Arthur. “This is beyond my skills, sire. We need to get him back to Camelot.”

“That’s a long and arduous journey,” said Arthur. “What if he doesn’t survive it?”

“Look, I fear that Gaius is the only one that can save him,” stated Merlin.

Arthur nodded and turned his head toward his comrades. “Mount up. We ride for Camelot.”

Soon enough, the men were riding their horses at full speed through the vast forest, Arthur leading the way. Later as it grew dark, the men made camp in the woods. Mordred lay silent on the ground, his face even paler than it was before. His head was lying on a woolen pillow and his robe barely kept him warm. Merlin gently placed his hand on his forehead.

“He grows worse,” Arthur said, sitting by the fire.

“There has been little change,” Merlin mentioned.

“I should have never let him come,” muttered Arthur.

“He wanted to prove himself,” said Merlin, trying to be supportive.

“And he has,” finished Arthur. “He saved my life for the second time.”

They both stared at Mordred’s sleeping form, hoping that he would wake up and all would be good.

Merlin slowly sat beside Arthur, sadness in both the men’s eyes.

They all arrived back at the castle the next day. A group of knights raced down the marble steps as Arthur and his men trotted up to the castle courtyard on their horses. Arthur walked his brown horse forward, Mordred’s still form across the stallion’s back. With the knight’s held, Mordred was soon lying in bed in Gaius’s chambers.

The old man placed his hand on Mordred’s forehead. The young man’s left arm and shoulder were in a sling. Arthur sat on a stool nearby, worry growing with every passing minute. He did not want one of his good friends to die right then and there. He could only hope that Gauis could do something to save him.

“Merlin is right,” said Gaius. “This is no ordinary wound. There is magic at play.”

“Can you save him?” asked Arthur.

“I’m but a physician. There are limits to my knowledge.”

“But there must be something that can be done.”

“Perhaps,” said Gaius. “I shall do everything in my power, sire.”

Arthur nodded in thanks and stood up. He looked at Mordred again.

“Let me know the moment he improves. Or…” Arthur began. He couldn’t bring himself to mention the alternative.

“I shall,” said Gaius, in understanding. Arthur somberly walked away.

The door closed behind him. Gaius spoke once he and Merlin were alone.

“Only your magic can save him, Merlin.”

“I cannot save the life of an ordinary man destined to kill Arthur,” Merlin coldly replied.

“If Mordred is destined to take the king’s life, why has he just saved it?” Gaius asked.

“I cannot ignore what the dragon said,” replied Merlin.

Gaius looked at Merlin sternly and crossed his arms. “What happened to the young boy who came into my chambers just a few years ago?”

“He grew up,” Merlin answered, “and he learned the meaning of duty.”

But was duty worth pursuing at the cost of a brave man’s life?

Arthur stared out a window in the room and drank from a silver goblet. His wife, Gwen, put her hand on his back. She wore an elegant dress of purple silk.

“It’s not your fault,” she said, turning to face him. “He begged you to let him go. It was a kindness to allow…”

“It was foolishness,” he interrupted.

“No,” she said.

“You told me once that Mordred had a strong sense of duty,” said Arthur.

“That’s true,” she said with a nod.

“You also told me that he was impetuous. I should have listened to you.”

“No, you shouldn’t,” Gwen assured. 

Arthur took another drink and Gwen moved closer to him, comforting him with her hand briefly on his chest. “If Mordred hadn’t gone, it could be you in Gaius’s chambers. Mordred did his duty so you could do yours…to be king.”

A knocking on the door interrupted their conversation.

“Yes? Arthur asked turning around.

The door opened and Gaius and Merlin stepped in.

“Sire,” said Gaius bowing his head, briefly.

“Is there any news?” Arthur asked.

He went silent for a moment. “I thought that once we got him back to Camelot, your care…”

Gaius cut in. “The staff that caused the wound was forged using powerful sorcery.”

“All the same…”

“The poison that runs through his veins is beyond remedy.”

It was the worst thing that Arthur had heard so far. “There must be…something you can do.”

Gaius shook his head. “I’m afraid not. Only the Disir themselves have the power to counteract their own sorcery. I’m afraid we must prepare ourselves for the worst.”

If that were the case, then there was only one thing left to go.

“I’ll go to them,” Arthur explained.

“Sire, I do not think that…”

“…and beg for mercy,” he finished, cutting Gaius’s warning off. Merlin looked at Arthur with worry in his eyes.

“Prepare the horses. We leave at once.” Arthur marched ahead and opened the wooden door. Soon, Arthur and Merlin were riding their horses away from the castle.

They rode through the forest and across a plain. At last, they came upon the circle of willow trees and the sacred cave.

“Why do you risk so much for one man?” Merlin asked as they set off on foot through the forest.

“I’d do the same for any knight,” Arthur replied.

“Though obviously not me,” Merlin mentioned.

“Actually I would,” said Arthur. ‘Servants are hard to come by. Even the bad ones.”

“I’m touched,” Merlin answered with sarcasm.

“Mordred saved my life. What greater debt could there be?”

“A debt to your people.” Merlin suggested. “To your destiny.”

“You almost sound as if you care,” remarked Arthur.

“I do care. About who you are, Arthur,” said Merlin. “Who you are destined to become.”

Arthur rolled his eyes.  He was tired of having people tell him what t do because of fate as an abstract concept. He could make his own destiny. He had to…in order to save Mordred. “It’s fated. It doesn’t matter what I do, does it?”

“It’ll still happen. There’s a difference between fate and destiny.”

“You think too much, Merlin,” said Arthur. “The situation’s quite simple. A brother in arms saves my life. When he is in turn threatened, it’s my duty to do all I can to save him.” Arthur nods to Merlin, eyebrows raised, and continued on his way. Merlin reluctantly followed.

They arrived to the cave at last. Arthur stopped and pulled out his sword from the holder at his side. He gently placed his sword on some green leaves. Merlin watched him in amazement. He didn’t expect Arthur to remember the rules so quickly.

“I’m not totally insensitive, Merlin,” he stated. “I can see that some people feel that this is a scared place. I’m even prepared to admit that you were right sometimes.”

Merlin smiled.

Arthur added, “Obviously I’ll deny ever saying that.”

“Obviously,” muttered Merlin, knowing that Arthur was never 100% genuine. Merlin followed Arthur into the cave, carefully around the hanging relics and to the larger space. They stopped when the saw the three hooded women.

“King of Camelot,” said the first.

“We have been expecting you,” said the second.

Arthur went down on one knee to show respect.

“My men and I have behaved with arrogance and stupidity. We insulted your faith and nearly dishonored this place. I humbly beg for forgiveness.”

The three women were silent.

“One amongst us, sir Mordred, may yet pay the ultimate price. I’ve come here to petition you for his life.”

“Why should we help you?” asked the first woman sternly.

“I ask not for myself, but for a young man whose only crime was to sacrifice himself for his king,” said Arthur.

The second woman spoke. “The future holds much pain and suffering for you, Arthur Pendragon. For you and your people. If you wish to save all you hold dear…”
“If you wish to save your kingdom…”

“Embrace the Old Religion.”

“Learn her ways.”

“Bow to the Goddess.”

“You know I can’t do that,” Arthur replied after a moment.

“Consider carefully,” said the first woman. “You have until dawn.”

At dusk, Merlin gathered up wood for the fire. Arthur was lying down, his sword nearby sticking from the ground. “How did you know this place was sacred?” asked Arthur.

“That’s obvious,” said Merlin, putting down the pile of wood.

“Pretend it isn’t.”

“Everything here…” Merlin explained, looking around in wonder, “So full of life. Every tree. Every leaf. Every insect. It’s as if the world itself is vibrating. As if everything is much more than itself.”

The philosophical talk gave Arthur a headache. “You feel all that?” he asked.

“Don’t you?” Merlin asked.

Arthur shook his head.

Merlin stood up and walked to his blanket on the ground.

“What will you do?” asked Merlin.

“I don’t know,” Arthur answered. “My heart says do anything I can to save Mordred. But I’ve seen what misery unfettered sorcery brings. Before my father outlawed magic, Camelot was almost destroyed by sorcery. In my own time, Morgana’s used it for nothing but evil.”

Arthur looked at Merlin for a moment. “What would you do? In my place?”

Merlin stopped to think.  “Me? I’m just a lackey, maker of beds.”

“Lackeys can be wise,” Arthur replied.

Merlin went silent. If Arthur declined the Old Religion, sorcery would always be outlawed and Mordred would die. In that case, Arthur would be safer due to Mordred not being a factor. But if he accepted the pagan faith, Merlin would be free to be himself. Mordred might survive based on his choice. Camelot would be at risk for sorcery…but then again, hadn’t Merlin fought many sorcerers already?

“It’s not like you to be silent,” Arthur mentioned.

“The kingdom’s future is at stake,” said Merlin.

“And a man’s life,” added Arthur.

“You must protect Camelot. You must protect the world you spent your life building. A just and fair kingdom for all.”

“You’d have me sacrifice a friend?” asked Arthur.

“I’d have you be the king you were destined to be.”

“If I do save Mordred, all my father’s work will be for nothing. Sorcery will reign once more in Camelot. Is that what you want?”

The two men were silent.

“Perhaps my father was wrong,” said Arthur. “Perhaps the old ways aren’t as evil as we thought. So what should we do? Accept magic? Or let Mordred die?”

Merlin finally answered after a long moment of silence.

“Magic must have a palace in Camelot.”

Arthur and Merlin walked back into the cave for a third time, both unarmed.

“You have returned,” said the first woman. “Is your decision made?”

“It is,” said Arthur. “I repent. I will let your people practice sorcery as long as no harm comes to Camelot.”

“You are sure of your decision, Arthur Pendragon?” asked the second woman. “This is your one chance to save all that is dear to you. It will not come again.”

“It is true that I’ve seen too much conflict and damage that sorcery has done,” Arthur admitted. ‘Sorcery nearly destroyed Camelot. It killed my mother…”

“Yet it is also sorcery which allowed you to be born,” added the third woman. “Your father wanted a son to one day rule his kingdom. But the price for creating a life is losing another.”

“Do not forget that there is a good side to magic,” said the second woman.

“Magic can be used for good or evil. Both must exist in a continuous cycle,” said the first.

Arthur was silent for a moment. Then he declared, “I accept your faith.”

“You have made your decision.”

“Sealed your fate.”

“And that of your kingdom.”

“Farewell, Arthur Pendragon” they all said at once.

After Arthur and Merlin had left, a small smile appeared on the first woman’s face.

“You did the right thing,” said Merlin.

“I may have saved him, but I put my kingdom at risk for evil sorcery.”

“For the sake of Camelot,” Merlin replied.

“He saved my life, Merlin. More than once.”

“I know.”

Both men rode back into the courtyard. Arthur saw something ahead that shattered his heart. It was the still body of Mordred, being carried out and covered by a white cloth.

“Mordred! No, no!” Arthur cried. He quickly got off the horse and ran over toward the knights. Gaius was there, his head lowered. “I’m sorry, sire. I did all I could.”

Arthur gently touched Mordred’s pale cheek. His eyes were closed and he looked like he was in a peaceful sleep. Arthur lowered his head as tears fell from his eyes.

Arthur remained quiet the rest of the day after a Viking funeral was conducted for Mordred. Everyone had gathered by the lake for the funeral. An arrow with a fiery tip was shot and landed on Mordred’s body in the wooden boat. His body erupted in flames as the boat sailed on.