FIC: The Longest Night (Merlin/Arthur - 3231 - G)

[winter-mod.livejournal.com]

Title: The Longest Night
Author/Artist: ???
Pairing(s): Merlin/Arthur
Prompt: I'd love to see a story involving traditional Winter Solstice celebrations in Canon Era Camelot. Pairings, plot, and other details up to you!
Word Count/Art Medium: 3231
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Merlin characters are the property of Shine and BBC. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: Loads of thanks to my beta snickersnack. She's incredibly fast. And also thanks to our winter_mod, for creating and managing this fest and giving me the time I needed.
Summary: After magic is finally legalised in Camelot Merlin wants to make amends to the gods. The Winter Solstice celebrations create a perfect opportunity.
Read it on AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12986460



The large stone slabs had been chopped into rough, rectangular boulders and erected vertically to carry others horizontally on top. Arranged in a perfect circle they surrounded smaller, unconnected formations created of three boulders, appearing like gates facing each other in a horse-shoe formation.



The sight had spooked Arthur slightly at their arrival and he was still contemplating how its creators had managed to transport the massive stones out here into the forlorn fields. Merlin’s answer to this had been obvious: magic. But Arthur had never met a sorcerer as powerful as him and liked to think that even without enchantments and spells such magnificent monuments could be created.



When they emerged from their tent people had already started to gather around the impressive stone formation. Though the snow had been vicious, hundreds had made the journey to this outpost of civilization to attend the festivities.


Uther had told him about the event in his childhood once or twice and only called it an insult to the sacred time in which the people should put their trust into their king and their own abilities instead of laying their fate into the hands of gods and worse; magic. 


He had told Merlin as much when he approached him about his wish to make the trip. Not to discourage but in order to explain why so many rites and traditions had never been performed in Camelot. And as always, Merlin had listened until the end only to take his king’s hand and change his mind smilingly.




The three days journey from Camelot had been hard under the weather conditions but they had reached their destination just in time.



"How are you feeling?" Arthur inquired, laying a hand on his lover’s shoulder.



The sorcerer was observing the preparations for the celebrations with quiet approval. Huge bonfires had been built around the stone circle and farmers as well as town’s people were laying down sacrifices for the gods at their feet. Inside the structure three sorcerers could be seen as they levitated an enormous tree trunk into the center of the half-circle of stony gates. It was the Yule log which would be ignited after dark to burn for the twelve days of Yule and cleanse their realm for the New Year. 



"I'm nervous but happy", Merlin responded.



Turning around he met Arthur's eyes which were as trusting and devoted as ever. The king's hand slipped onto his neck and brought their foreheads together.



"Well, I'm glad I could please my beloved Court Sorcerer", Arthur teased smugly but somehow still sincere under his prattish demeanor.




And it was sincere love for Merlin as well as for the people of Albion that had brought them here.

Magic had been legalised in Camelot at the Beltane celebration of last year. Although the decision had been long in the making Arthur could only take the final step several months after Uther's passing. After the required and much needed period of grief their citizens had to be eased into the new reality in which sorcerers and magic users were not the enemy. Still, the whole ordeal had been nothing compared to the public surprise as well as partial outrage at Merlin's appointment as Court Sorcerer and the king's official consort. An act that once and for all destroyed anybody's hopes to one day witness a queen at Arthur's side.



Sometimes Merlin was overcome by anxiety, thinking he was asking too much of his king, still he kept asking for more. The month following his rise in station opened a vast expanse of knowledge to him about the workings of his own powers and the secrets of the old religion than he had ever thought possible to gain. But his understanding of it was frustratingly limited forcing him to beg Arthur to allow more sorcerers to join the court as well as to bid the druids to teach them the forgotten rites and traditions anew.



The first winter solstice to be celebrated in Camelot after almost thirty years had brought a new breath of air to the kingdom. Instead of the cold hush engulfing town and castle over the change of seasons people were caught in a festive spirit, anticipation filling everybody's hearts. Fires and lanterns had illuminated every corner, people singing almost forgotten songs while they wove yeast braids to decorate their homes and please the gods they hadn't been allowed to worship all this time.



As always, Gaius was an inexhaustible source of knowledge, telling them with growing excitement about the Yule traditions of his childhood. One of his memories was especially intriguing, even to Arthur, who was sometimes observing the proceedings with a good portion of reluctance. The physician told them of the practice to chop a fir tree at first snow fall and decorate its branches with candles, figurines of wood or straw and even treats. Upon laying eyes on illustrations of said Yule trees in a book Gaius had discovered Arthur had announced that Camelot would have the biggest, most beautiful example in all of Albion. And he kept his promise.



Twenty men were necessary to transport their tree of choice to the courtyard and erect it with ropes being pulled through the upper-storey windows. The execution had been a challenge that would have been easier accomplished with magic and Merlin had told Gaius as much.



"My boy", the physician had replied, using the tone he usually chose when Merlin got a little too eager. "Of course it would be. But like many things traditions follow their own rules. Times like these are about people forming a stronger bond through work that has to be done. Your powers could render some of these tasks unnecessary and would rob us of the experience of achieving something together."



While observing the men doing the back-breaking work Merlin couldn't hold back the thought that these rules Gaius had spoken of were obsolete, until one of the robes broke and the tree threatened to fall. His magic had reacted unasked and stabilised the giant until it was secured in its final position. It was then, standing with the crowd, all of them in marvel of their accomplishment that he fully understood his mentor's meaning. For the first time since his magic had been revealed to the public he felt like a part of the community again. Men and women who had been reluctant around him had suddenly approached him to thank him for his help, to thank him for using his magic. The work that had been done together had created a new bond between him and the people of Camelot showing him that he belonged.




Closing his lids Merlin leaned in to press his dry lips against Arthur's. He could taste mead on them and under it his king's familiar warmth. There had been no time to shave after they had arrived turning the kiss a little scratchy. Arthur had told him he liked the slight beard when he had complained. Apparently it gave his innocent features a more mature expression. Merlin could only snort at the comment.



Arthur's hand found its way into Merlin's thick locks feeling the soft texture with growing delight. The socerer moaned quietly into his mouth his arms already snaking around Arthur's hips, obviously prepared to start something that shouldn't take place in public. Luckily Iseldir's voice forced them to stop before they managed to make a true spectacle of themselves. The sun was creeping closer to the horizon now, 'causing the druid leader to announce the beginning of the ritual. The crowd moved further towards the outer edges of the circle finally breaking the couple apart.



Merlin's eyes caught Arthur's gaze one last time.



"I want it to work", Merlin whispered breathless.



"It will", Arthur said, cocksure as ever, and pressed another quick kiss onto his lover's lips.



With a small smile which spoke of thankfulness as well as annoyance Merlin made his way towards the structure ignoring the stares following him with as much dignity as he could muster. Arthur let his gaze wander over the audience that had come to witness the show. The sun was setting fast, already touching the upper edge of the stone ring. Between the pillars he could see his Court Sorcerer standing just off center, collecting his thoughts. Several other magic users and druids had taken their positions along the outer circle, facing the core through the inner gates. While the audience had gathered to the south and north as instructed, leaving the east and west side of the monument mostly undisturbed, Arthur was facing the sun directly when it finally vanished behind the stone.



Merlin had discovered the records on an ancient scroll tucked away in the darkest corner of the treasury, which was probably why it had escaped Uther's wrath. The text appeared to be indecipherable, written in a script dating back to the origins of old religion. Only Iseldir recognized some of the letters. Thus had begun weeks of puzzling over books and scrolls until he had finally emerged successful at Arthur's side, his body trembling with nervous energy.



"We have to travel south, Arthur. We have to go to stān hencg ", he had stammered while barely containing his excitement.



The structure carrying the ominous name was said to represent a gateway between the realms. Just like the Lake of Avalon it was supposed to border the netherworld allowing spiritual and magical energy to flow freely between their worlds. It was a sacred place where one could speak to the gods and meet the dead. Druids and sorcerers alike had conducted their rituals on these grounds while others prayed for good fortune. But not only in the minds of the people was stān hencg a special sight. Its uniqueness lay in its construction.



Every table in their chambers had been covered in maps and graphs calculating and illustrating the sun's movement. Pouring over sketches and numbers Merlin had explained to king and advisors how the placement of the stone pillars corresponded to the sun's position allowing him to perfectly calculate the day of winter's solstice, when the longest night would occur and the veil separating their realm from the spiritual world would vanish momentarily. Merlin was convinced it was the perfect opportunity to send a prayer for forgiveness and peace to the gods. Performing the rite of renewal at this monument of the old religion would not only bring good fortune for another year. Extending their hands and hearts to the entities guiding their fate would grant a prosperous future to all of Albion.




Arthur was unprepared for the sudden onslaught of light. Turning away his hands rushed up to protect his eyes from the blinding brightness. His ears picked up on noises of surprise and wonder which only fed his growing confusion. Stumbling out of the beam he blinked rapidly to rid his sight of irritating spots and rounded the stone ring to the north side to find out what was causing the commotion.



Looking between the pillars towards the center all he could see was a wall of crimson light. The structures behind it had become invisible, the monument cut in half by bundled sunlight stretching from west to east to pour out from the ring of boulders onto the spot Arthur had just stood in. He saw Merlin's contours right in front of it, his head wandering from left to right, his body radiating wonder in every move. One of Merlin's hands raised slowly, creeping towards the glowing fabric until his fingers sunk through the veil, the light breaking around them like water in a stream. 



The crowd was mesmerised. A heavy silence settled around them as every man, woman and child held their breath at such a magnificent sight.



Sudden darkness came almost as a shock, then. The sun had left them at last, dipped behind the horizon almost unnoticed. Only the faintest glow was still being reflected on the rapidly darkening sky, stars already blinking down on them.

The Longest Night had come.



Merlin stepped into the center, the log lying a few feet in front of him. On a mark, the surrounding sorcerers and druids extended their hands upwards and Merlin followed them swiftly. It was time to begin.



The chant reminded Merlin of the softer sounds from the dragon tongue. Rolling 'L's and deeply resonating 'A's brimming from his chest and bleeding through his lips. But there were other sounds, too. Ancient syllables like whispers, almost soundless, interchanging with high notes reaching out like a plea towards the stars. Iseldir had tried to teach Merlin the meaning of each verse but it was hard, the words and messages cryptic, too much knowledge lost even to the druids.



It was a prayer as well as an acknowledgment, calling to gods and spirits alike to grant them kindness while showing appreciation for the blessings that had already been given. Unable to comprehend the intent of each verse flowing from his mouth Merlin began to fill them with his own emotions and desires. Their solstice may have been inspired by rites practiced by the old religion but their reason for gathering here today was grander than the hope for a bountiful harvest and a mild winter.



They had come to mourn what they had lost, to repent their sins and ask for forgiveness. They had come to regain a bond that had been severed unrightfully.



Merlin could feel it, now. The combined voices were strengthening with every word, swelling loud and powerfully towards the sky. The air was thickening, warming around him, taking on the smell of trees ripe with fruit and golden wheat on summer fields. The odor's intensity grew, forcing him to open his eyes and see if something had magically grown from the frozen earth.



Instead of being greeted by lush fields or blooming orchards, though, a panicked scream reached his ear, drawing Merlin's gaze between the pillars in the north towards one of the bonfires. The wood had burst into flames licking upwards until the whole pile was being devoured. Before he was able to comprehend the scene similar shouts came from the opposite side, people trying to get away from the spontaneously combusting pyres. 



The druids and sorcerers around him appeared just as confused as Merlin felt but nobody had stopped chanting. Almost as if something but their own will was driving them to complete the ritual. Merlin felt hot, sweat dripping from his nose and rolling down his back. He was starting to curse the luxurious winter robes Arthur had commissioned for him just when the song reached its Crescendo and the tree trunk to his feet caught fire as well.


The first flame pierced the night, bright and clear like a beacon calling through the realms, seeking the attention of every living thing. Another blink had the log covered in fire, a blazing cylinder right in front of him.



Mesmerised by the spectacle Merlin was unable to move, unable to close his lids to protect his eyes. Instead he kept staring into the dancing flames, unsure if he was dreaming or delusional when he began to recognise foreign faces shaped by light. They were ragged and restless, not easy to distinguish, but he believed he could see them smiling just before a flaming tongue darted from them right at him.



Somebody was holding Arthur's arm. The grip was strong but not violent, probably belonging to one of his knights. Nobody else would dare to touch the king in this way. Nobody but Merlin and Arthur was determined to get to him.


The first time he had made a move to break into the circle and protect the socerer was when the bonfires had violently ignited themselves. A slight panic arose among the crowd but none had fled the scene or attempted to stop the ritual. When he had made his first steps towards the outer ring a hand had grabbed him while other voices warned him let the proceedings continue. For a moment Arthur had been able to reason with himself, seeing that Merlin was still unharmed. Then the Yule log had practically exploded and all of his restraint had vanished.


Ripping himself free Arthur stumbled between the pillars, calling out for his lover. The sorcerer appeared hypnotized, frozen into place by an invisible force. Then the flames spiked towards him and Merlin screamed in shock throwing up his arms to protect his face. Arthur shouted, fear gripping his heart when the fire engulfed Merlin's hands like a torch's tip. But to his surprise no further screams left his beloved, no agony twisted his features and before Arthur knew it the flames had disappeared.



A wisp of crisp winter air rushed over the sight, whisking away the thick odor and shrinking the fires to a regular size. Just like that the spook was over.



Gaze still lingering on his clasped hands, Merlin was turning towards Arthur, trembling breath leaving his lungs. Reaching out his fingertips to caress the miraculously unharmed skin, Arthur released an incredulous huff. There were no burning marks, no singed spots. All he could see and feel were Merlin's beautiful, pale hands.



"What happened?", he managed to utter the question that had been trapped on his tongue.



Merlin cocked his head up, at last, his eyes big and brimming with delight.



"It worked", he replied, a grin splitting his face in half. "The gods have heard us."



Stepping a little closer to his beloved king, Merlin brought their foreheads together, breathing out relief and contentment.



Down there in his opened hands lay the sign the gods had gifted them, strengthening Merlin's hope for the glorious times ahead.



---






The celebrations lasted until dawn just like tradition demanded. With fires, song and dancing from sunset to sunrise they kept wicked forces and malicious entities at bay who were trying to cross the border to their realm under the cover of the longest darkness. Merlin was struggling to remember the night’s proceedings. The memories were an endless litany of cups being shoved into his hands, people toasting him from every side and somewhere in between there was Arthur. His warm smiles and lustful eyes, his stolen kisses and hot whispers. Somehow they had made it to their tent, drunken on ale and happiness, their hands too clumsy and desperate to achieve much but stroke and caress until they both reached their climax and sunk into oblivion.



Now, as the sun was clawing her way over the horizon once more, he cursed the alcohol and his heavy head while trying to appear as dignified as possible for this last and rather unplanned act.



About a hundred meters from stān hencg two farmers had dug a small hole with the help from one of the sorcerers to break through the frozen soil. The spot had been chosen by the druids to honor the gift of the gods. Through the night there had been much discussion about its message and intended use but Merlin’s belief was still unwavering.



When the golden acorn left his hand to fall into the loosened earth he knew what the gods had given them. It was a seed to build their kingdom on.




(Note: The oak represents protection and a steadfast life, her branches covered in fruit to symbolise the reward for hard labor and patience.)