Stone Circle

Summary: Merlin saves Uther and Arthur from a horrible fate that becomes his own. Racing against the clock, Arthur, Morgana, Gwen, and Gaius each try to save the loyal manservant, going to lengths that shock not only the people of Camelot, but themselves. Can they save Merlin? Or will he become a dead immortal...?

Disclaimer: I own it not.

No, this is not slash.

This story is set before the episode Sweet Dreams, but after Freya died.

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Chapter One

Camelot had been busy these past few weeks. Each year, to celebrate the coming of fall, and harvest, the Autumn Festivities were held—which meant great preparation for peasants and nobility alike. The knights prepared for the jousting tournaments, while the chefs of the castle prepared for the upcoming feasting. Peasants washed their clothes more frequently, and talked excitedly about the different activities that would be held. Constant hammering was heard from the blacksmiths' homes, while the smell of baking wafted out of the huts. Men whittled toys for the children, which they would give out each evening of the Festivities. Women sewed bright garments—a scarf, or sash, to be worn during the merriment. To be sure, the weeks before the Festivities were filled with excitement, and work.

Especially for the servants. Constantly running through the falls with ingredients for the cooks, laundry for their masters, food for the hounds, tools, and other supplies, they barely had a moment of rest. Well...Gwen might be the exception. At least, this was what Merlin thought, for as he ran down the hall to polish Arthur's armor again, he noticed her chatting happily with Morgana. That was all she did, besides do what Morgana told her too. Which was very little.

Ah—polishing Arthur's armor. Polishing Arthur's sword. Sharpening Arthur's sword. Polishing Arthur's lance. Polishing Arthur's horse's armor. Weaponry and armor was becoming very important to the Prince, as he wanted to look good during the tournaments. Of course, that wasn't the only thing Merlin did. He also cleaned Arthur's room, fixed Arthur's boots, mucked Arthur's horses' stables, fed Arthur's hounds, delivered Arthur's meals...it was always Arthur. What about himself? Merlin? Didn't he get to prepare for the Festivities?

Handing the now clean armor to Arthur, Merlin considered asking Arthur for some time off, but he knew that was impossible. The other servants weren't getting any either.

Arthur inspected the armor with a critical eye. "Next time, be faster Merlin. I might be late to practice because of you."

Merlin rolled his eyes. Arthur wasn't due there for another fifteen minutes. Not that it mattered whether he was late or not-Arthur could be late for whatever he felt like as long as it wasn't important.

Arthur continued to talk. "On the West Tower, the roof collapsed. Although no one was hurt, there's a shortage of men who are needed to rebuild the roof. I'm assigning you to the task."

Merlin groaned. The West Tower was the tallest of the towers, and the roof was probably really hard to stand on.

"Fine. Oh, and, you're welcome. Arthur." He smirked, walking away as Arthur called after him, "That's Prince to you!"

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Merlin hammered another shingle onto the roof, desperately hoping that he wouldn't slide off the narrow roof, which actually was really hard to not fall from. Since the servants were considered, by some, to have lower status then of peasants, he was working with four others like him—overworked, sleep-withdrawn, and food-withdrawn servants, all who had no idea what they were doing.

"Where are the builders? You know, the ones who have trained their whole life to do this?" He asked Matt, a friend of his who'd been pulled from his duties as a kitchen sculley to help the construction.

Matt brushed some dirt off his arm. "I think they're just spread really thin right now. There's renovations being done in parts of the castle, they're adding more stables, that sort of thing. Though," he said, winking, "I think some of them are just shirking their duties."

Merlin rolled his eyes. "Again? Somebody ought to cut their pay and raise ours. Wait...we don't have any! At least, I don't."

Matt laughed. "So? You're the prince's manservant. That's an honor in itself. I don't know many people who have the opportunity to nick his majesty's leftovers and listen in on court proceedings!"

Merlin shook his head as he hammered a shingle onto the roof. "The court," he grumbled, "is one of the most boring places in existence. If you thi-huh?!"

Merlin's breath hitched as his foot suddenly slipped. He cried out, dropping his mallet onto the roof, grasping at shingles in panic as he slid down to the edge. Of course, he could save himself with magic, but Matt and the other three servants would see. Matt's eyes widened, and he reached out a hand in alarm as Merlin's other foot lost its hold. There was a small ledge encircling the roof, about a hand wide, and Merlin found himself grasping it with both hands, the rest of him dangling over thin air.

Another builder and friend, Ben, inched closer, trying to see if he could help lift Merlin up.

The two others seemed uncertain as to what to do. The more limber of the two, Owen, climbed higher, perhaps hoping Merlin could grab onto his leg, and from there pull him up with the help of the others.

"Should I go get help?" Shawne called anxiously from where he crouched.

Ben shook his head doubtfully. "I doubt it'd do us any good. There isn't enough room up here for more men, and I don't see any other way others could help."

"Besides," Owen said bitterly. "Who's going to care about a servant, anyway?" He meant no offense, as the others knew. They all had known at least one servant that had died. The servant was usually buried by immediate family, and if they had no family, then a friend.

Merlin nodded. "Maybe...maybe Ben could take my left arm, and Matt could take my right..." He said slowly. "And they could lift me up until at least my waist was above the 'ledge', and then-"

He hissed as his swinging legs brushed against something, and he distinctly heard the cloth covering his left leg rip. "What's wrong?" Ben asked. "I think there must be an old nail down there, although why there would be a nail amongst stone, I don't know. I cut my leg on it—hopefully it wasn't rusty."

Merlin then realized that if he could actually brush against something on the wall, then the wall was closer to him then he'd originally thought. "I don't think the nail could support my weight for very long...but maybe if I got a foot on it, I could hoist myself up enough for you to help more..."

"What if you lowered him down?" Shawne suggested, a thoughtful look on his face.

Matt looked at him in astonishment. "What?"

"Well...there were windows on our way up here...maybe Merlin could swing through one of them." Shawne looked down, and then up again—he wasn't too fond of heights. "I think the last window we saw wasn't that far down..."

"That's ridiculous! Merlin could die if we did that. What if the window was farther than you thought?" Ben gasped. Shawne sighed.

"I only thought that-"

"It's a great idea!" Merlin interrupted. "Besides, I don't want you risking your lives for me." Owen grinned.

"What? Why would we do that? It's our lives we're risking. Let the prince's manservant die, we die. Of course we're going to save you."

Merlin laughed, then frowned, as his grip slipped a little. Benn and Matt each immediately grabbed an arm, just as Merlin let go of the ledge.

"Thanks," He gasped, wincing as his leg throbbed from the nail. "Lower me down, will you?"

Benn and Matt nodded gravely, and while Shawne and Owen helped keep them from falling off, they gingerly leaned over and lowered Merlin down. Merlin at first didn't see a window, and inwardly panicked. But then he saw a small one—about the size of his waist, just below his knees. He swallowed.

"Is—is it possible for you to swing me a bit closer?" He called, trying in vain to reach the window, which was unfortunately not directly in front of him. It was off to the side.

"We'll try." Ben and Matt said together. Merlin felt himself begin to sway, gently. The ledge was now meeting his wrists, and with each swing the edge hit his lower arms rather hard, which slowed down his momentum a bit.

"You'd better hurry up. I think you're slipping." He heard Owen complain to presumably Ben, whose legs he was holding.

Ben's reply was strained. "I think I can tell when I'm slipping or not." He paused. "And yes, I'm slipping."

Merlin realized that he'd better fling himself over to the window now, otherwise there would be more then one servant to clean up in the courtyard down below. Bracing himself, he gritted his teeth...and let go of his friends' hands.

Merlin dove through the window, crashing onto the stairs and hitting his head. Then, true to form, he skidded down several more steps before banging into something metallic. Looking up, he saw a blurry Arthur glaring at him, dressed in armor.

"Merlin! What are you doing?" Arthur exclaimed, hoisting him up by his collar. "...Did you jump through a window? Why are you bleeding?"

Merlin grinned weakly, "I was..."

"You know what? It doesn't matter. Just...are you alright?"

"I think so," Merlin shakily stood as a few droplets of blood dripped down his right cheek.

Arthur frowned. "Look, I know we're short of men right now, but if you're hurt it would probably be better for you to go rest."

Oh, that was tempting. All Merlin wanted to do was to go take a nap, but he didn't want to just abandon his friends to a terrible fate.

"Okay," Arthur said slowly, when Merlin didn't respond, "look, we'll compromise. Just stay here and hand whatever the other servants need to them when they ask for it through the hole in the ceiling. No acrobatics or anything. Alright?"

Merlin grinned weakly in response.

"Right! Good." Arthur fumbled a bit with his right gauntlet. "That's settled then."

They looked at each other awkwardly for a moment. Arthur huffed and started down the stairs, muttering something about idiots and 'could've killed himself'.

With that, Merlin made his way up the stairs for a well-deserved rest.

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Merlin tripped over the loose stone in the courtyard for the fourth time that day, carrying several herbs that Gaius had asked him to collect from the forest. Although this courtyard was perhaps the most frequented by people, it seemed oddly deserted today. Nearby, several servants were cleaning up a huge mess of spilled food in the corner opposite to Merlin.

"What happened?" Merlin shouted, making his way towards them.

One of the servants looked up. "You didn't hear? Lam, he was leading a mule with food from his cousin's farm, and the mule—both lame and old, fell over a stone or the like, and, well, here we are, then."

Merlin didn't know whether to laugh or groan. Lam was a young servant in the castle, and well-meaning, though he was, often was the cause of many unintentional mishaps.

"Was Lam in trouble?"

The servant shrugged. "I'm not sure, but Master Oksby seemed right angry when I saw him earlier today." Oksby—the bane of every new servant's existence, although, technically speaking, Oksby was a servant himself.

Merlin sighed, and thanked the servant as he bent down to pick up some herbs he had dropped.

"...yes, I am certain..."

"...Sir Demetri is overseeing it..."

"...she is very excited..."

Hullo. Was that the voices of Uther and Arthur? Merlin quickly pretended to be doing something useful, mumbling the names of the herbs under his breath to make it seem as if he were making sure he had all of them.

Arthur and his father strode out into the courtyard, confidence punctuating every step they took. Although the two royals were busy, it seemed to Merlin that they were busy with giving orders, and not work. In fact, giving orders was all Merlin saw them do, except he frequently saw Arthur training with the other knights...but that wasn't work, was it?

Losing interest, Merlin idly looked around the courtyard...and froze. There, in the middle of the courtyard—a ring of moss, about the size of a large wagon wheel. But how? Merlin remembered this—a Stone Circle. He had come across it in his book of magic. Turning to Uther and Arthur, he realized in horror that they were heading straight for it.

Dropping the herbs, he yelled at them, "Stop!" They were only a couple of feet away from the circle, and he raced towards them as Arthur looked at him in bewilderment. No... They were about to step on the circle, couldn't he run faster then this? Merlin ran, and lunged at the two, crashing into them and causing them to fall to the ground, well away from the circle.

It was a pity Merlin had not thought of magic. If he had, perhaps what followed would not have happened. For as he stood, gasping for breath, he felt the dormant magic from the circle surge. He looked down at his feet, stuttering words that would not form. He had saved Uther and Arthur. But he had not saved himself.

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I know this may seem kind of slow at first, but from now on, there will be more action and the like. Questions like why haven't other people stepped in the circle before, and what's a stone circle anyway? And Will there be romance? Are all answered in the next chapter, but if you have other questions, feel free to ask them in a review, and I will answer! (As a PM, or in the next chapter—expect the latter)

This is my first Merlin story, so advice is appreciated! So are flames, which I welcome gladly.