AN: This first chapter is actually about the same length as the prologue, but it feels longer to me. Probably because the prologue was mostly just me writing down things almost exactly as they happened in the series, while now it finally strayed away far enough canon for me to start writing for real.

Chapter 1

Merlin watched his friend's back uneasily as he followed Arthur through the forest back to the ominous cave of the Disir. The king hadn't said a word (apart from "Let's go" this morning) to him since he sunk into his thoughts last night, and Merlin himself did not try to prod the older man from his silence either. The king had obviously made his decision, but was in no hurry to share it with his servant, and the warlock respected his silence. Not that it mattered anyway. From how unwaveringly Arthur strode through the forest and from the determined look in his eyes, Merlin could guess very well that nothing would be able to change Arthur's mind anymore, whether he chose to speak about it or not.

The knowledge that nothing could be changed anymore did nothing to quell how feverishly the servant's heart was fluttering in his chest, however. He was nervous, he was expectant, he was… hopeful. Yesterday, it had been all about making a decision that was the most practical, that was in the best interest of both his king and the future of all of Camelot. But now that it was all done and after the sun rose that morning, his own personal emotions were coming out in full force, stirring within him hopes that the warlock usually had pushed away to the very bottom of his mind as he figured it was completely impossible for any of them come true any time soon. But Arthur had listened to him yesterday and even didn't dismiss his words outright afterwards. The fact alone that the king entertained the idea of fulfilling the Disir's condition at all was already more than Merlin could have expected in any other situation.

Perhaps, this would turn out for the better in the end. Maybe the Disir would accidentally make a mistake and wouldn't be able to heal Mordred, for example, Merlin joked in his own mind. But of course, that was a fool's hope considering the power the three sorcerers held, not to mention a dangerous one. If Arthur made a promise to those of the Old Religion, and they wouldn't then fulfil their own promise back, whether by their own design or otherwise… Merlin didn't even want to imagine what that would do to the King's belief that magic might be good after all.

The young warlock was pulled out of his thoughts suddenly by the sound of a sword being planted into the ground as Arthur, for the second time, acknowledged the sanctity of the place he was about to enter by leaving his weapon behind. For they had reached the cave of the Disir, Merlin was almost startled to notice, but he was quick in following his King inside nevertheless. Both of them ducked their heads as they stepped inside, to avoid running into all the charms and trinkets of the Old Religion hanging down from the ceiling in the cave, and soon were standing in front on the three cloaked figures again. Arthur stood tall before them, even as Merlin fidgeted nervously behind him. The moment of truth had come, and the warlock could do nothing but wait and listen.

"You have returned," one of the figures spoke, soon followed by another as they continued to talk as if they were one entity instead of three, "Is your decision made?"

"It is," Arthur answered, his voice as perfectly steady as could be expected of a man ruling a kingdom. Merlin held his breath and felt as if the whole country did it with him – or should have done it with him – with anticipation of the words that would determine the path that all of their future would take, "I cannot do as you ask," the king announced his verdict after a mere moment of hesitation, and Merlin felt his heart plummet to his feet, all blood draining from his face, his mind bursting into millions of thoughts instantly.

He had hoped… No, he had been almost certain, in fact, that Arthur had taken his trusted friend's (for Merlin hoped that this was what the King thought of him by now) words to heart. Subconsciously, he had already started making plans of what he would do once magic became free in the Kingdom, already started celebrating for all the innocent souls with magic that would be saved from execution in the fire… And now all those hopes lay broken before him, as Arthur's words echoed in his ears.

Even with his king's back turned towards him, the servant tried to compose himself. He tried to convince himself that this wasn't as terrible as it could be, because Mordred would be taken care of and at least he had tried to convince the kng to choose otherwise. At least in the future, when he would be in a situation where he would have to try and convince Arthur to change his mind again, the king would not think back to this and think that his servant was at least as uncertain about the issue as he himself was. There would be continuity. Merlin's opinion woul matter more.

But the bare second it took for all these thoughts to flash through his mind had passed, and Arthur continued talking, apparently not quite finished.

"At least, not immediately," the King added, and Merlin's eyes widened impossibly, as those four words changed the situation again immediately. Even the Disir who had seemed to freeze with disappointment at the Pendragon's first words now became more animated again, though their voices sounded suspicious as they spoke up once more.

"What is the meaning of those words, Arthur Pendragon?" they asked, and Arthur took another step forward as he started to explain. Merlin still stood frozen in his place, unable to do anything but listen attentively, as confused as the Disir.

"You demand me to hurry and accept magic in the name of my whole Kingdom, but change is a difficult thing to achieve," the royal knight spoke, holding his head high, "I understand your impatience after almost thirty years of persecution, but my subjects won't listen if I suddenly told them that magic is allowed, no matter how loyal to me any of them are. I would ask you give me time to honor your request. And not a month, or two. Three years, one for every decade that your ways have been outlawed - I would use the time to approach the change slowly. But if you agree to save my knight despite this condition I must raise, I would give you my promise," the king stated loudly, the words echoing in the cave dramatically, "I would swear on my own life that by the end of this period, not one sorcerer would again be punished in my name, unless fair trial proved their deeds to be truly despicable. I would swear that there would be new laws, saying that magic is free to be used, as long as it is for good."

Silence stretched out after the king had finished his part, the three women seemingly deep in thought, considering the proposal.

"The Disir are not here for you to bargain with," one of them stated strictly after a minute, but that didn't fluster the man standing tall before them.

"And I am not trying to bargain, I am trying to reason," he answered instantly, "Even if I disagreed with you completely, and even if your threat held true and denying the Old Religion would cause my doom. Even if you managed to put someone on the throne of Camelot who would agree to do as you wish and pronounce magic to be allowed immediately, the people would protest. The law would not be upheld as the Kingdom would rise against that which they had been taught was evil. Your best bet is to let me do it as I said."

Silence fell once more as The Disir considered the King's words once more, but this time it lasted shorter.

"Be that as it may, Arthur Pendragon, but what about you?" The old women spoke again, "Changing the opinion of your people might take time, but as you stand before us, do you accept our ways. Do you bow before the Triple Goddess?"

As silence stretched for the third time, it was Arthur that everyone waited to speak up this time. The king's shoulders slumped slightly as he showed insecurity for the first time after entering the cave.

"I have suffered a lot at the hands of that which you advocate," he spoke, his voice slightly quieter than before, "But I admit I've seen it used for the sake of good as well. If there was no doubt within me that my father's conviction might not be completely right, I wouldn't have proposed to make the promise," he stopped for a second again, swallowing and then, unexpectedly, lowering himself to one knee before the three women once more, "I bow before your Goddess. Not because I believe in her as you do – I would not shame this place by lying like that here. But because I respect the power she holds over you and the old ways of this land."

"Very well, King of Camelot," The Disir spoke again as Arthur stayed in that position unmoving, waiting for the verdict, "We shall accept your proposal, and as you've been completely honest with us, so shall we be with you," they announced, and the man kneeling before them frowned in slight confusion at those words, lifting his eyes to look at them directly while they continued, "Had you not given us a favorable answer, Arthur Pendragon, we would have granted your request and healed the knight that jumped in front of you to save your life regardless. But that would not have been because we took pity, but rather because the knight's continued existence beside you would have ensured that the fate we threatened you with would come true," they explained, causing the king to feel even more confusion, as well as a prickling sense of dread in his heart as he realized what the Desir might mean to tell him about Mordred with those words, "But rise now, man who must decide his own fate! Ride back to your home, and you shall be met by the one you asked us to have mercy on. He shall be healthy and strong. But you would do well to remember our warning!"

The three witches remained standing in their place, not making any grand exit after their last dramatic words as would have been almost fitting, Merlin thought with some (out of place, perhaps) amusement. But it was obvious they meant to dismiss the king out of their presence by those words, and Arthur wasn't slow to catch on to that. As loathe as the king usually was to be ordered around, he was clever enough not to try the patience of the Disir and rose back to his feet, nodding his head at the three statue-like figures for the last time and turning around. Merlin's heart jumped to his throat nervously when he saw his Sire throw him an unreadable, but nothing good promising glance, before walking out of the cave slowly, the servant following him dazedly.

Despite having heard the whole conversation with his own ears, the young warlock could not quite believe he had heard right. It felt more like a dream. Even if the glance that Arthur had thrown at him afterwards caused very realistic anxiety well up inside him.