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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 3 years

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Blood of Mine

Prompts: Here's a quick lil Merlin prompt for you! I adored your Twins AO3 work, so amazing! Prompt: Arthur and Merlin discover they are twins by accident when an angry sorcerer curses the royal family so that anyone is isn't Uther or Ygraine's blood cannot enter or leave the castle. Merlin walks right in. - anon

a merlin prompt/request if you're still taking: can you please please please write a sequel-ish to 'Twins' where arthur and merlin find out about being twins and the aftermath of it,,, I really really adored reading the first part and how you depicted their characters !!! - onceandfuturekid

Thanks for the prompts!

Read on Ao3 Part 1

Pairings: none, we be gen in this house rn

Warnings: uhhh uther’s implied to be a dick but there’s nothing explicit

Word Count: 3281

The servants in the castle whisper.

They whisper of a night long ago, when winds howled and trees groaned and the walls held their breath. They whisper of a king, striding down a corridor, hoarding the knowledge of a firstborn son, a true born heir, close to his chest as his wife lay panting there on the bed, still suffering the afterbirth pains. The whisper of another babe, one with magic stirring in his veins, taken and shuttled to safety in the arms of the Dragonlord.

They whisper of what Uther has forbidden, what Ygraine’s memory does not say, and what all who know of the story to be true. That there is another heir, behind Arthur Pendragon, one with magic in his blood as well as royalty, that could return to sweep the land.

Morgana Pendragon is true born. She is the daughter of Uther Pendragon, sister to Arthur Pendragon, and the most formidable sorceress Camelot can remember. If she finds the other heir, what could they do together?

The servants whisper and Arthur ignores them. He has long lost hope of finding this person.

Merlin hears them and listens. Sometimes he thinks he sees a misty woman flying around just out of the corner of his eye.

He has a suspicion that destiny might have had more of a hand in this than people would care to admit.

——————————————

Merlin isn’t sure exactly why he’s able to figure out how Arthur’s going to move but he can, somehow. It tingles right under his fingertips a second before it happens, guiding him left, then right, then forward. He shadows Arthur closer than his own sword, always a moment away from Arthur’s left elbow.

He’s not sure he’s doing it on purpose, especially not while they’re arguing. Something about a visiting lord that had to be put into guest chambers that were the hardest to get to. Merlin had pointed out that it would greatly affect the servant rotations because not all the servants were able to carry their chore things all the way there, which would affect the running of the rest of the castle. Arthur had been a prat, and the argument had commenced.

They’d been winding their way through the castle as they argued, searching for more appropriate places to house the lord. And Merlin had never strayed further away from Arthur.

It’s when Gwen points it out that they both frown.

“Of course he moves,” Arthur scoffs, “it’s not like he’s tied to me.”

“I don’t do it on purpose!”

“No, you don’t have the brainpower for that.”

“No one has enough brainpower to keep up with you.”

“Ah, thank you.”

“No one is smart enough to account for your thick head.”

“Hang on—“

Then Gwen has proposed a test. She had Merlin and Arthur stand how they normally would and tied a simple knot in a bit of twine.

“There,” she says, stepping back, “now let’s just see how this goes.”

“Fine,” Arthur says, rolling his eyes, “let’s get this over with.”

Merlin had followed Arthur down the corridor. They’d found another room for the lord. They’d gone back to Arthur’s chambers.

Only when Arthur goes to sit down at his desk do they feel the tug of the twine.

——————————————

Arthur doesn’t know why he always has a keen sense of where Merlin is in the room, but for some reason, it doesn’t matter whether it’s a Council meeting, during court, or at a feast, but he can always look up and instinctually make eye contact with Merlin.

It’s more than a little bizarre, and Arthur’s definitely found himself looking away angrily when he catches Merlin’s gaze, but sometimes it’s useful.

Like right now.

It’s another one of his father’s ‘iron fist’ meetings. The council is trying to decide what the guard rotations are going to be like for the next year. Uther is insisting that the guards be increased, at the very least they must stay the same. The steward and Leon are frantically trying to convince him that the guards are unhappy with their long hours and the stress it puts on the people, and the people are stressed because, you know, there are guards in their streets all the time.

The pit in Arthur’s stomach is growing deeper and deeper by the second as Uther gets angrier and angrier. The urge to speak up wars with the need to be quiet, knowing that Uther will likely find fault in whatever behavior he shows. He needs out.

He looks up and Merlin is already staring at him, ready.

He nods surreptitiously.

Merlin goes to the door, under the pretense of asking one of the guards something, and turns.

“Sire,” he calls, addressing Arthur during a moment of pause, “there’s something that requires your attention.”

Uther barely looks at his son as he leaves.

“Thank you,” Arthur mumbles once they’re back in the safety of his chambers.

“Anytime,” Merlin mutters, shaking out a blanket to drape over the foot of the bed, “I hate those meetings.”

“You and me both.”

“Do you think he’ll ever understand?”

Arthur’s silence is all the answers they both need. But if Merlin starts doing that more often, well, it’s just good management.

——————————————

Then the curse comes.

Merlin doesn’t know who pissed who off this time. Listen, the royals don’t exactly deal with things with calm and words all the time. Morgana tries, certainly, or she did—Merlin still hasn’t forgiven himself for that—and Arthur’s getting better, but Uther is very much an ‘arrest first interrogate later’ kind of man.

So a sorcerer is very, very angry with Camelot right now—probably for justifiable reasons—and there’s a curse on the citadel.

Arthur wakes up one night to a spectral figure floating in front of his bed.

He shouts, draws a sword, only for the mistly figure to scoff.

“What are you going to do, stab me?”

Arthur certainly tries.

“I’m intangible, you dumb boy,” the figure scoffs, “you can’t hurt me. I’m not here.”

“Who are you,” Arthur demands, still brandishing the useless sword, “what do you want?”

“For you to open your eyes,” the figure says, “and see precisely what it is you’re missing.”

Arthur is exhausted, damnit, he’s been jolted awake in the middle of the night for this.

“What?”

“You Pendragons,” the figure says, “are all the same. You believe that you are better than the rest of people, that you don’t need the rest of people, or at the very least they aren’t worthy the way you are.”

Arthur can only stare as the figure waves a ghostly hand.

“Well, let’s see how you like it when you only have each other.”

With that, the figure vanishes.

And Arthur is alone, confused, and very, very tired in his room, in the dark, as the city begins to stir and quake and moan around him.

——————————————

Merlin opens his eyes. Something is wrong.

Around him, Gaius grunts and shoves something else into a bag as his feet do their very best to pull him out the door. Around him, the walls are crawling with the sounds of feet, confused and dazed voices, the courtyard outside blazing with torchlight lit hastily.

“Gaius?” Merlin jolts out of bed. “Gaius, what’s happening?”

“Merlin? Merlin, are you alright?”

Merlin flies down the stairs. “Yes, I’m—I’m alright, what are you doing? Where are you going?”

“It’s a curse,” Gaius grips out, clutching a table tightly, “my feet are moving of their own volition, I’m not controlling them.”

“Where is it making you go?”

“Outside the citadel. We are lucky it’s not further.”

“How do you know it’ll stop once you get outside?”

“I don’t.”

With that, Gaius loses his grip and Merlin rushes after him, holding Gaius tightly by the arm as they join a swarming crowd of people.

Some are in various states on underdress, clearly having just been jolted rudely from sleep the same way Gaius was. All are clutching each other, worried as the magic drives them further and further to the gates. Merlin’s own magic prickles uncomfortably, clearly feeling the strain of whatever power is driving them outside, just under the beds of his nails. It’s powerful, whatever this is, but he’s not sure the curse is directly influencing what he’s doing.

At least until he gets to the gates and slams into a wall.

Except there isn’t a wall here.

Gaius is still moving, turning around once Merlin’s grasp on his arm vanishes suddenly.

“Merlin? Merlin, what are you doing?”

Merlin shakily presses his hands against the barrier. Around him, people swarm out, but he can’t leave.

“Gaius,” he calls out, his voice wavering, “Gaius, I can’t come with you.”

“Of course you can, just—“

“No—“ he pushes harder— “Gaius, I—I—“

“Merlin—“ Gaius rushes back— “Merlin?”

Merlin shakes his head. “Go to Gwen and Elyan, they’ll know what to do, I—“

He glances over his shoulder. “I’ll figure it out.”

——————————————

Arthur sees the people fleeing and panics.

The guards are gone when he opens his door, absent from the halls as he flies down them. The rooms are empty, doors ajar, the last of the voices fading from the stairways as he races down toward the armory. There’s a secret back entrance through the stores here, maybe he can—

The force of running into the magical barrier all but stuns him, his teeth ringing unpleasantly in his head.

Panting, he rests a hand against the barrier, feeling it tingle uncomfortably at his palm before he pushes.

Nothing. No give. He can’t break this.

He grabs a sword and hucks it at the barrier, watching the metal pass through easily but his hands jerking to a stop.

So it’s personal.

The figure’s words ring in his head again.

“Well, let’s see how you like it when you only have each other.”

Uther.

Arthur turns on his heel and sprints, past the empty rooms, up the silent stairwells, finally barreling into his father’s chambers to find them empty.

He—where did he go?

He closes his eyes and strains, listening desperately for something, anything, anything to tell him he’s not alone, not again.

No, no, no, not again, he hasn’t felt this in so long, why is it back now, he’s not a child anymore—

The longing comes back full force, despite his best efforts to bury it deep. The longing for the person he still knows is missing, the one he did his very best to convince himself wasn’t real.

A wounded noise tears itself out of his throat as he turns again, bolting back down the hallway.

He won’t think of this. Not now. Not ever again. He’s going to find his father and then he’s going to find a way to fix this.

He will.

He has to.

Arthur bursts into the throne room and immediately sees his father’s back, strong and tall, tensed and angry. Uther whirls around, his face softening just the slightest bit as he sees his son.

“Arthur.”

“Father, I—there’s a curse—“

“I’m well aware,” Uther growls, turning back to face something in front of him, “I was just being informed of such a thing.”

Arthur peers around his father to see the figure lounging casually on the throne. Like they own it. Part of Arthur snarls at the figure’s open defiance, part of him is secretly impressed at the audacity.

Still, he edges behind Uther and listens as they start to talk again.

“I demand that you lift this curse at once,” Uther orders, “you have no authority here.”

“I’m not here,” the figure points out idly, twirling a spectral finger, “and you have no authority over me.”

“I am the king of Camelot—“

“You are a proud, angry, bitter man,” the figure interrupts, fixing him with a hard look, “and you have no power over me.”

“I will find you,” Uther promises in the awful, awful soft angry voice.

Arthur shudders and thanks the gods that his father isn’t looking at him right now.

“I will find you,” Uther repeats as he walks towards the throne, “I will find you and then nothing will save you from my wrath.”

“You won’t.” The figure stands, looking every bit the rightful ruler on the platform. “You cannot leave this castle.”

They wave their hand at the windows.

“Haven’t you noticed?”

“The people,” Arthur manages, trying not to flinch as Uther turns to look at him, “everyone, everyone’s gone. It’s just…it’s just us, now.”

Uther frowns. “What have you done to them?”

“You Pendragons think you’re the most powerful? That you are the most deserving?” The figure spreads their arms wide. “Then you shall have your prison of a castle. No one of royal blood may leave, and no one not of royal blood may enter.”

“You have imprisoned us,” Uther says, “in our own home?”

“Camelot is a people as much as a place,” the figure hisses, “and if you do not realize that you serve the people as much as the people serve you, you will die alone in your golden cage.”

“You dare threaten—“

Arthur’s mind glosses over as Uther starts to yell.

The figure is right. Of course, the figure is right.

But he can’t say that.

Something in his chest snaps tight and tugs, hard.

He cries out.

Merlin.

——————————————

Merlin feels the shout before he hears it.

He tears through the castle, his magic pushing him harder, faster, further, through the deserted halls and the far-too-empty rooms until he’s barreling into the throne room and almost smack into Arthur.

“Merlin,” Arthur pants, reaching out to steady himself, “Merlin, it’s awful, there’s a curse—“

“I know, I know—“ Merlin gets his arm under Arthur’s— “Gaius and the others, they all got banished from the castle, I can’t leave, are you—are you alright? Are you hurt, did they hurt you? I heard you cry out—“

“I’m not hurt, are you hurt?”

“No, no, I’m fine, what happened? Are you—did you run here too?”

“Yes, I was looking for my father, I had to find out what happened, what else the figure—“

“Figure? What figure?”

“A figure—“ Arthur gasps— “someone appeared to me in my room, said that I was—that there was going to be a curse, that they were cursing my family—“

“They didn’t hurt you?”

“What? No, no, I already said they didn’t—“

“Good.”

“No, no it’s not good, they—“ Arthur waves his hand at the doorway— “they’re the reason everyone left, they said that the—the Pendragons believe that they’re better than everyone—“

“I mean—“

“Oi!”

“Sometimes.”

“Well, sometimes I’m right.”

“Well…”

“Merlin!”

“Right, right, sorry, so what happened?”

Arthur swallows, still trying to get his breath back. “There’s a curse on my family. No one with royal blood can leave and no one who doesn’t have…royal blood…can come…in…”

What?

Clearly, Arthur’s realized that at the same time Merlin has. They draw away from each other, wary, both staring at Merlin, who is very much here, who couldn’t leave…

What?

“…Merlin?”

It’s only then that Merlin looks up and sees that they’re not alone.

Uther Pendragon stares daggers at him, his very gaze enough to make Merlin wish he could leave, before his gaze lands on the other figure.

“You.”

“Wait, do you know—?”

The figure floats down towards him, walking through Uther, and reaching out to lay a ghostly cold hand on his cheek. Merlin’s magic thrums in his veins as a sad smile crosses the figure’s face.

“So that’s what they named you,” the figure murmurs, “I always wanted to know.”

Oh.

“Is it…is it…you?” Merlin swallows. “Are you—is this why—“

The figure shakes their head. “No, not directly.”

“Then why—how did—“

“What’s going on?” Arthur looks back and forth between them. “Merlin, what are they talking about?”

The figure turns, reaching out to cup Arthur’s face too. Arthur flinches, before letting them run their cold, cold fingers over his cheek.

“You…my proud, stubborn boy,” the figure murmurs, “of course…”

Arthur opens his mouth to ask Merlin’s question of what is going on but—

They gasp.

Gold threads. Golden threads and soft smells and the faint scent of iron. Soft cries and the mewls of a newborn and a fat-fingered hand reaching into dark locks in the arms of an exhausted mother.

Years of longing, of looking, of missing something.

All compressed in a moment.

They open their eyes and see Ygraine standing there, her hands cupped around each of her son’s cheeks, smiling as tears roll down her face, washing away the last of the horrid dark grey mist.

“My boys,” she murmurs, pulling them closer, “my beautiful boys…”

Arthur reaches out, not daring to believe it, slowly cupping his own hand around the one still on his face, before he lets out a wounded cry and buries his face in his mother’s spectral shoulder. Merlin only watches in astonishment and Ygraine’s form starts to fill, becoming more and more solid as his magic flows into the bond. Into Arthur.

Oh.

Memories hit him one after the other.

Of Ygraine, alone in the birth room, two babies cradled to her chest.

Of Uther, never knowing he had another son.

Of Arthur, growing up alone, always looking for a missing piece.

Of seeing Ygraine on the island with Morgause and wondering why, why he felt so close to her and why lying to Arthur to get him to stop murdering Uther had hurt so, so much.

It makes sense now. And as he watches Arthur’s tear-stained face raise, he knows Arthur just had the same epiphany.

“Merlin,” he breathes, reaching for his twin, “Merlin, come home.”

“I’m home,” Merlin says, clinging back, “Arthur, I’m home.”

“My boys,” Ygraine keeps murmuring as she strokes her hands through their hair, letting them cuddle each other and her, “my sweet boys.”

Uther stands there, forgotten.

Ygraine barely spares him a glance.

Her boys are back together, bound by the magic that kept her here, kept her angry, kept them apart. As the last of her curse fades, so too does the curse on the family, as the other denizens of the castle begin to return, so too does she return to the hug, stroking the heads of her precious sons.

She turns and sees Uther’s devastated face.

“You will not become the tyrant of these people’s nightmares,” she says firmly in her golden voice, as her boys embrace, “you will be the king that serves them.”

Uther has enough common sense left to nod.

She turns back to her sons, Merlin’s head in the crook of Arthur’s neck, Arthur’s face buried in Merlin’s shoulder. They breathe in the scent of each other, drowning in a connection that has been deprived too long.

She can feel her hold on this plane fading.

Her boys have each other now.

Together they’re going to change the world.

Ygraine bids goodbye with a kiss on each of her sons’ foreheads and a smile.

#merlin #bbc merlin #merlin bbc #dragonbabbles #fic

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koalas-koalas-everywhere · 4 years

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Where did the idea that Merlin is bad at healing magic come from?

Ok, that was a clickbaity title, I know where it came from: that scene in the Crystal Cave where he can’t heal Arthur’s wound. Possibly, also his struggle to heal him from the poisoned arrow in The Coming of Arthur Part 1. However, although I understand 1) the desire to nerf him at least a bit and 2) the delicious irony of someone as good as Merlin and who would like to be gentle as much as he does being crap at healing magic but good at combat, I don’t think this is very accurate.

I mean, this belief is the farthest thing from baseless. I mentioned TCC, and I can’t explain why he’d be unable to heal Arthur other than lack of skill (beyond theorizing that the magic of the Cave was impeding him because he was supposed, destined, if you will, to ask for Taliesin’s help and agree to look at the crystal in exchange, which admittedly doesn’t have much support from canon, or Merlin’s general lack of magical ability that caused him, for example to make a rose instead of a strawberry for Freya, although that was in the previous season). Then there’s TCoA, although that one’s a bit... complicated, for reasons I’l talk about in a minute, and, last but not least, there’s the Hollow Queen, where Merlin tries to heal himself but he can’t. Besides that, there are some instances when he didn’t try to heal people so we can extrapolate that he was unable, like when Mordred is hurt in The Beginning of the End, when Will and Freya are dying in The Moment of Truth and The Lady of the Lake* or when Arthur passes out in The Last Dragonlord.

The one from TCoA is complicated, because as I said before, he struggles, and by the time the scene cuts off it seems like he failed, but when Arthur wakes up, he only seems to have problems with the wound itself, not the poison, and doesn’t feel the pain until he walks on it. Then, without a hint of the fever he had before, he walks all the way to Camelot, a day or more, until he can’t go on anymore, but Merlin tells Gaius the spell didn’t work, BUT then Gaius says the wound’s infected, not poisoned, which would be explained by the whole traipsing about with a wounded leg and no treatment, so... I’m not sure what to make of it.

Then in THQ, there were the ameliorating circumstances of being... you know... dying from poison. It’s more a matter of power than healing skills (when he tries, his eyes flicker like cheap old lightbulbs when he tries to do magic). But we’ll count it.

So that makes it 5 times he would have liked to heal someone with magic but couldn’t due to what we can assume is a lack of skill (I’m not counting Mordred because I don’t think he’d dare to use magic in that case, since Morgana seemed to want to be involved and kept up to date in his treatment, proved by how she watched as he did it without magic), two of which are dubious because he seems to be at least partially successful or because there were extenuating circumstances.

Then there’s times where there were people to heal but the circumstances were... peculiar.

One was his father in The Last Dragonlord. He dies much more quickly than Will, not to mention Freya, which suggests an even worse wound than the one the woman who grew up with Druids, notable healers, said was too deep to heal. Merlin says he could save him, but Balinor cuts him off so he could give his last words, presumably because he, a man we also know possesses some healing skills, knew it was pointless. I really have to wonder if there was anything any ordinary sorcerer could have done (I mean, not to victim-blame, but I didn’t see Balinor trying to heal himself), that even Merlin himself pre-The Diamond of the Day could have done, so I’m reluctant to draw conclusions about his healing abilities from this.**

While he heals Gwen in With All My Heart, technically he does it not through any healing magic but by taking her to the Cauldron of Arianrhod and summoning the Triple Goddess, so it doesn’t help measure his skills either.

Additionally, (and here’s where I start to answer one of the most important questions in this post, which has remained unsaid until now, but which has underlined every single line to the moment: “what the fuck are you ranting about you big dumdum if all you’re going to do is agree that Merlin’s bad at healing?!” It’s about the refutation) there’s his healing of Morgana in TCC. This one’s also weird, because he does heal her, but he needed Kilgarrah’s help to do it. It’s possible that he only gave Merlin the spell, like he did with Sigan, but he has a strange sound effect in his voice when he casts it, so it could also be that he had some extra guidance from Kilgarrah to help him along, such as a power boost or an instinctual understanding of how to perform the spell. Like the last one, then, I don’t think this example gives us any reliable information on his healing skills.

But! It does start us off on the next part of this discussion, which is the times Merlin has successfully healed someone.

The earliest example of this is The Mark of Nimueh, where he heals Gwen’s father, Tom. He just sneaks in, puts a poultice under his pillow, casts the spell, sneaks out, and done! Man awake in seconds, cured by morning. Of course, success isn’t as interesting as failure (might be the reason why they continued this particular storyline by having Gwen accused of sorcery instead of just letting her live), but two things stand out about this healing. The first is that Merlin used a poultice for it, which will come up again later, so make a note of that. The second is that this happens before TCC, so it’s unlikely that Merlin just took that failure to heart and tried to improve.

But, TCC is the next time since then that he makes an attempt at healing magic, which, whew, talk about a time gap! That’s two seasons, and at least 2 1/2 years! Make a note of this, too. The time after that is, at least, in the same season - TCoA, in which we’ve settled that Merlin seems to have partial success with Arthur’s wound. (“Yes, you’ve already said this before!” Just go with it.)

Next, there’s The Wicked Day. We know that he did the spell right because everything went to shit. Once more, he used aids for the spell, a potion and incense form sage.

The very next episode, Aithusa, without a clear idea of what they’ve been given, only that they’ve passed out and have difficulty breathing (he might have figured out what it was from the smell of the poultice that he found in the stew), he manages to save all four knights and Arthur from poisoning, this time only with an enchantment.

Then he heals Gwen’s leg in The Hunter’s Heart. Once again, only a spell. Funnily enough, it’s the same wound he tried to heal in TCC, only in a different place.

Last but not least is the poison Gwen uses on Arthur in A Lesson in Vengeance. By the time Merlin has an opportunity to treat him, he’s moments away from death - Gaius says his heart’s nearly stopped, and Merlin himself doubts he has the power to heal him. No potions or herbs, although it’s interesting to note that he does motions similar to chest compressions.

So, to keep tally: his success rate when dealing with poisons and drugs is 100%, and it’s the same for times when he got to use aids such as potions and poultices. It also applies to all healing attempts not subject to extenuating circumstances (magical interference such as the Lamia’s spell or the blade being forged in a dragon’s breath, and when Merlin had to heal himself while he was dying) from TWD forward.

We can see him improve from TCC (season 3) to ALiV (season 5) - he actually makes significant improvement from TCC to TCoA, and from there to TWD and Aithusa. It seems like he learned from his experience in TCC and decided to make up for his lack of natural talent at healing magic by studying. And here’s where it gets really funny. Because we’ve established that there was a time, long before TCC, where he healed someone successfully, and that was Tom, in TMoN. If you’ll remember, around that time Merlin was much more likely to fail the first few (hundred) times he tried a spell, like the one to make that dog statue real and the one to enchant a weapon to fight the griffin. So, way back then, Merlin went, made a poultice, cast a spell and succeeded on his first try, when before (and after) that he’d have difficulties with new spells.

It... actually looks like he had a natural talent for healing magic.

Okay, hang on! you might say. You spent the first half of this fucking novel talking about his healing goofs, don’t come at me with this bullshit now! you might say.

And here’s where you should pull out those notes I asked you to make. Because between TMoN and TCC there’s a world of difference.

To start off, in the first one he had preparation. He’d been able to look for and study an appropriate spell in his book shortly beforehand and, most importantly, he had a poultice. He’s had a perfect success rate when using those. Look at Dragoon - I’ve talked before about how hilarious it is that Merlin struggles to turn off a spell most have trouble achieving, let alone keeping up. In that first ep, Queen of Hearts, Merlin prepares a whole ass ritual to age up,*** but later needs a potion to go back to his own age. On the other hand, every time after that he just casts the spell and he has no trouble undoing it. While it’s conjecture, it’s a pretty solid theory to say that potions and the like, as I’ve been foreshadowing, function as aids when casting spells. They can be necessary, but sometimes they just give the sorcerer a boost. It follows, then, that any spell cast without them will be weaker, such as, say, the one in TCC.

But! He doesn’t use potions for almost any of the other times, either!

Well, that’s kind of tied into my next point: time.

As we’ve established, almost three years go by between TMoN and TCC, and Merlin doesn’t try to heal anyone in that time. He does, however develop his magic in other ways. By The Moment of Truth he can summon a tornado! By Le Morte D’Arthur he can cast the spell he so struggled over in Lancelot! He can summon a shield that can withstand dragon fire! Went against a Sidhe and a Pixie! He- okay, he got better at combat magic. You might see where I’m going with this.

But right then, he needed to heal Arthur! He’d done it before! But... he’d gone rusty.

Honest to God. Yes, this is conjecture. No, I don’t have any proof other than what fits with canon. No, I don’t think it was intentional on the writers’ part.But in my mind and in my heart this is what happened. He was originally good or rather decent at healing magic, but after not using it and instead doing other kinds of magic for so long, during what were technically**** formative years for him as a sorcerer, that he actually lost the hang of it. To be fair, though, he makes up for it pretty quickly.

I didn’t think this through to the end before I wrote it, when I started I thought I’d just conclude there were more examples of Merlin being good at healing magic and that would be it, but putting it all together I’ve found a probably unintended pattern of Merlin having a natural talent for healing, but being forced to neglect it for the sake of combat magic. In conclusion, I’m sad.

*Scenes which I just watched to make this post and now I’m crying fucking hell what I do for stupid meta.

**I don’t apply the same logic to Freya because the length of time that must have passed between the scene in the tunnels and her death by the lake, not to mention the amount of jarring that she must have gone through in the trip, makes me think that there probably was a window of possibility there that they just didn’t have the resources to take advantage of. And. I mean. The strawberry scene. I’m just more likely to believe Merlin still had a way to go, magic-wise, but it’s also because of this that I’m not convinced that this is about him being bad at healing, specifically, as much as not being that skilled in magic overall.

*** I also rewatched the scene where he does it and ho-ho-ho-holy shit, his excitement at his idea is adorable.

****Because he was born with magic, he learned ways to use it way before going to Camelot, but this was a new stage of his studies that consisted f different things learned and different ways to learn them and different ways to apply them.

#Merlin BBC #Merlin #am I metaing yet?#I said in conclusion I am sad your honor

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generallynerdy · 5 years

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Our Little Secret Part 10 (Merlin & Child!Reader, Mordred X Reader)

Parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, and 9

Summary: Mordred’s first mission has gone rather ideally, but his second is going horribly wrong. The grief of almost losing someone so dearly loved is new to (Y/N), but especially when another of importance to her doesn’t seem to care whether or not her lover lives.

Key: (Y/N) - your name

Warnings: arguments, hazing, near death experiences, injuries, angst, emotions, yet fluff and banter, merlin fucks up big time

Word Count: 2,353

Note: baby mordred doo doo doo doo doo doo baby mordred

“I don’t understand why you hate him so much!”

“I don’t hate him, it’s just-- it’s just--”

“Oh, now you can’t even come up with a decent reason for it! That’s wonderful! Just great!”

Gwen heard the argument from down the hall. She knew instantly that it was coming from (Y/N) and Merlin, but she wasn’t sure what they were arguing about until she saw the former storm into the hallway. Merlin followed her closely, arms flailing wildly as he tried to explain.

“I can’t believe you! I thought that maybe you would be happy for me!” (Y/N) shouted before she grew quiet. “I thought you, of all people, would be happy, especially knowing I’ve found someone who--”

Gwen missed the last piece, a quiet sentence. Unbeknownst to her, (Y/N) had finished that sentence referring to Mordred as someone who knew about her magic and loved her for it.

“I thought you were my brother,” she whispered.

Before Merlin could reply, she walked away, fury in her step as she did. Merlin disappeared with a sigh, but (Y/N) ran straight into Gwen.

“Sorry, I--” She started before quite realising who it was. “Gwen?”

“(Y/N),” the queen greeted. “Is everything alright? You and Merlin seem to be having a bit of a row.”

(Y/N) sighed and glanced back to where Merlin had disappeared. “I don’t know what it is about Mordred that puts Merlin off, but he won’t let up. No matter what he does, Merlin just won’t accept him.”

“I thought he had backed off,” Gwen muttered. “Oh, Arthur wants Mordred on their quest for Osgar. That’s what started it again, isn’t it?”

The younger woman nodded solemnly. “I just don’t understand why he won’t listen to me.”

“He’s just protecting you. He has since he met you,” Gwen told her.

“But Mordred is-- Mordred is wonderful!” (Y/N) gushed. “He’s sweet and clever and brave and he makes me so happy, but…”

Gwen drew her into a hug. “He’ll let up sometime, (Y/N). I’m sure of it. If you truly care for Mordred, then Merlin will, too, eventually.”

“I suppose so,” (Y/N) sighed as she pulled away. “Thank you, Gwen.”

The queen put a fond hand on (Y/N)’s cheek. “If you ever need me, I’m here.”

“You sure you haven’t forgotten anything, Mordred?”

The young man furrowed his eyebrows and looked up worriedly at the four other knights, who had all mounted their horses already. “Do you think so?”

“Isn’t he missing a dagger?” Leon pointed, making Mordred look about frantically.

Elyan grinned. “I can’t see a water bottle.”

“His boot,” Percival furthered. “He’s missing a boot, I think.”

At that, Mordred seemed to realise they were messing with him and smiled, flustered as he looked away. They all laughed lightly, which just happened to be when (Y/N) descended the stairs to bid them goodbye. She was sitting out this time, as Arthur wanted Mordred’s first mission to be “without distraction,” as he put it.

“Alright, leave him alone,” she chided her friends.

Quietly, Mordred thanked her. “I don’t know if I can take this all day.”

“You’ll be fine. They’re really quite harmless.” She glared at the other knights, who whistled and looked away innocently. Then, she drew something from her own cloak and passed it to Mordred. “You did forget your water, though.”

“Thanks,” he muttered, leaning forward to kiss her.

Gwaine wolf-whistled at them, but he was ignored by (Y/N). Mordred, on the other hand, backed up from her with a bright red face to match his cloak.

“How will you survive without your (Y/N), Mordred?” Elyan teased.

Said woman sighed. “Don’t let him die out there in between all your hazing. He’s got it bad as it is with Merlin on his back.”

“Oh, Merlin’s harmless,” Gwaine scoffed. “Most of the time.”

(Y/N) ignored them and turned back to Mordred, squeezing his hand. “Be safe,” she said. “Promise me.”

He nodded. “I promise I’ll be safe.”

It was early morning days after, when Arthur had them all set out for the home of representatives of the Old Religion, called the Disir. He was becoming paranoid of a rune stone gifted to him by a sorcerer and wanted to be sure he had committed no wrong that would harm his people.

Mordred volunteered to go, shocking Arthur with his willingness, though (Y/N) had already been chosen to go, as she had years of experience. She stuck with him the entire time, especially as they entered the cave. He had magic, but he did not know of the adventures of knights and the foes they would face. She just wanted to protect him.

They entered the cave, faced with three figures in cloaks. Arthur asked them why they judged him. They said he had denied the Old Religion.

(Y/N) glanced at Mordred as they spoke, fearful of what would happen.

The three figures scorned Arthur for the way he came into their sacred space and trampled relics, saying he treated his own kingdom with such arrogance and conceit.

Then, Gwaine spoke. He shouted at them. “Enough! You speak of the king!”

They flung him into the air with a thought, making all the knights draw their weapons. Arthur ordered them to be ready, but none of them could have prepared for what happened next.

A spear appeared from nowhere, flying straight at Arthur. It arched and lodged itself instead into Mordred, who leapt in front of the king, sending him to the ground.

“Mordred!” (Y/N) shrieked as he went down, racing to his side and helping the others take him.

Dread filled her as they camped outside the cave. She pulled him into her lap, holding his head gently as Arthur and the others gathered nearby. Merlin appeared and was called to look at the young man’s wound.

(Y/N) couldn’t hear their words with all the ringing in her ears. She only heard that they would be going back to Camelot to try and save him. Still, she did not stand, hardly able to breathe.

“(Y/N)?”

Arthur’s quiet voice broke her from her thoughts. She looked up at him with such a pitiful gaze that it broke his heart.

“We need to bring him to Camelot,” Arthur whispered, knowing the kind of emotion she was feeling. “We need to take him to Gaius. Do you understand?”

She nodded shakily. “Y-- yes.”

“C’mon.”

He helped the others take Mordred before returning to her, finding that she had barely moved other than standing. The way she stared after Mordred’s limp form made him want to hug her, so he did.

“He’ll be alright,” he said firmly. “Hey, hey, look at me.”

He took her head in his hands, the little girl that he once knew. She never took losing someone well, as he had seen with Lancelot, but she could never be blamed for it. This one was different, far different. He could see how much she and Mordred loved each other, reminding him much of himself and Gwen. It pained Arthur Pendragon to see (Y/N), practically his little sister, hurting so much.

“Mordred is going to make it,” he told her again. “But I need you to be strong for me and for him. He will make it.”

“Promise?” She asked quietly.

Arthur nodded, a hand on her shoulder. “I promise.”

That night, (Y/N) pulled Merlin away from camp once she had gotten her wits together. They walked a short distance from camp and into the woods for a private conversation. Merlin had a feeling he knew what she was going to ask him and she thought she would know his answer, but one of them was wrong.

“You have to heal him,” (Y/N) hissed.

Merlin sighed. “I can’t, (Y/N). Disir magic is beyond--”

“That’s ridiculous!” She scoffed. “I know you can do it, I’ve seen you do it! You have to try! You can’t let him die.”

He gave her a resigned look. “We’ll take him to Gaius, he can--”

“Great, now you won’t even try to save his life,” she hissed. She could not fight the tears coming to her eyes. “Is that how much you hate him? And why? Because he cares about me? Because I care about him? Because he’s taking me away from you?”

Merlin started to speak. “That’s not--”

“What good reason do you have to hate that boy anymore than the others?” She asked him, a quiet sob escaping her lips. “Just because you’ve known me longer-- that gives you the right to hate him? The others have accepted him and him and I just fine, but you-- you just can’t, can you? What is wrong with you, Merlin? You’d let him die just because you can’t stand the thought of him with me?”

He went to answer, but she stormed away, too furious with him to continue. She feared if she argued with him further that she would grow louder and somehow reveal their little secret.

(Y/N) sat back down beside Mordred, caressing his face gently and muttering to him all the healing spells she knew. None of them did a single thing, but it didn’t hurt to try. Her hope faded with the last enchantment and she let out a near silent sob as she leaned over Mordred, speaking to him quietly.

“You have to make it,” she begged of him. “I need you to make it. After all this-- all this time, you can’t leave me now. Please, Mordred. I need you.”

Back in Camelot, the skies were clear and the sun shone beautifully, but the day could not be more grim. Most everyone was in the streets in the lower town, but the nobles in the citadel were inside, worried for the fate of Camelot’s newest knight. All of the other knights were accounted for, except one.

The training grounds were near empty. Only one target stood and one knight swung at it. (Y/N) had taken her sword and the nearest dummy, violently hacking into the fake man as if it had been the one to wrong her. With each slice, her grip grew tighter, her breath faster, her strikes stronger.

“(Y/N)!” a voice called from behind. “(Y/N)!”

Only after the second call did she turn, sword raised and ready to fall upon an unfortunate victim of chance. Unfortunately for her, the victim was one she recognised.

“Woah!” Gwaine raised his empty hands up in surrender, showing her that he was no threat. He quieted. “Put the sword down.”

“I’m--” (Y/N) started to apologise, feeling the sword fall from her grip as her breaths became heavy and ragged, her voice choked. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m--”

The beast of a weapon dropped from her hand, thumping as it fell onto the grass. As soon as she was disarmed, Gwaine stepped forward, enveloping her in his strong arms. She crumpled into his shoulder, sobbing and wailing as she did. It was as if she was a child again, weeping as Camelot was conquered. For Mordred was her Camelot.

“I know,” Gwaine whispered as he rubbed her back comfortingly. “I know.”

He took her inside the castle and to the kitchens. There, the cooks lovingly made her a warm drink and one for Gwaine, seeing as he was caring for her. They said nothing, only enjoyed each other’s company for a time. Gwaine wished to comfort her, but thought the best way to do that was to give her space, while still being there for her if she needed. He was wiser than most would believe.

Not long into their silence, heavy footsteps sprinted down the hall and skidded to a stop in the kitchens. They belonged to Elyan, who appeared near to fainting as he entered the room.

“(Y/N)!” He said, out of breath.

She looked up with wide eyes, abandoning her drink on the table and standing. Gwaine joined her shortly, just as concerned.

“You have to come,” Elyan huffed. “It’s Mordred.”

It didn’t take another word for her to be after him at an unnatural speed. He slowed out of pure exhaustion after a while, but she continued on to Gaius’s chambers, where she knew Mordred rested. Gwaine was right behind her, hoping the news wasn’t dire. If it was, he would be there to care for (Y/N) while she grieved.

The young woman slammed the door open, fear consuming her. Luckily, the sight before her was a blessing.

Mordred was sitting up in bed, closely watched by Gaius and Percival, who had been assigned to keep watch there by Gwaine. He worried deeply for (Y/N) and wanted news as soon as possible.

(Y/N) gasped at the sight of him and rushed forward, both men moving out of her way instantly. Mordred smiled when she took him in a tight hug, sitting on the bed beside him.

“You’re awake,” she said shakily, pulling back to look at him and put her hand on his cheek. “How?”

He smiled with that sweet grin of his and tilted his head to kiss her hand. “I don’t know, but…”

She didn’t allow him to try and come up with an explanation, interrupting him by placing her lips on his. (Y/N) buried her hands in his soft curls, eyes still closed when she pulled away and held her forehead against his.

“I thought I lost you,” she said.

Mordred shook his head. “I told you I’d be safe, didn’t I?”

“Nearly dying isn’t safe. If Arthur lets you on a mission anytime soon, I’ll kill the both of you,” she hissed.

He chuckled and kissed her quickly and sweetly. “Well, if anyone is to kill me, I’d rather it be you.”

“I know you could’ve saved him, Merlin. I know you’re powerful enough. I don’t know why you didn’t or why you refuse to care for him at all, but know that I will never, ever forgive you for this.”

Merlin Tags: @pearlll09

Part 11

Masterlist

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anorakofavalon · 5 years

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Another Way Chapter 2

If you haven’t, go check out Chapter 1 here.

The candles flickered in all of the ways that candles shouldn't flicker - just on the edge of being extinguished by a vengeful draft in her chambers, the light within a sharp contrast to the world outside. The moon hoisted itself up an inky Yuletide sky, brandishing light onto the courtyard of the castle, which itself was empty but for one or two couples chatting near the doors to the central hall. Music danced across the castle, but it had began to dwindle, sweeping inwards until there was no more music at all, just the silence of slumber. The feast had come to a successful finale. It was a feast marking the new year, which meant that she was fairly tipsy on wine. Red, of course, to suit the occasion.

Winter in Camelot was a wonderful affair most years. This year it was not. This year the snow struck firmly against the ground, obscuring what little was left of autumn's remains with no small measure of ferocity. Under the barrage of snow that had been going on for weeks, it was perfectly natural for her to feel an inclination to drink more than usual. If only to do away with the boredom.

A part of her she very much resented suggested that maybe she was drinking away the nerves over her looming meeting with Merlin and not boredom. She dismissed the notion entirely, she chose instead to look out her window into the nothingness below. The city was slipping into sleep, and only the glow of hearthfires suggested life. It didn't make for great sightseeing, but it was a tranquil enough image to make her think - which was something she wanted to avoid entirely. Again she turned, this time away from the window, just in time to hear knocking at the doors of her chamber. Her heart answered with four knocks of its own, and her mind was quick to interject: was this worth it? Maybe it'd be better to just kill him and be done with it. She contemplated feigning sleep. Perhaps this conversation wasn't worth having after all?

Morgana stomped her foot physically. What was she, some ditz? What would Morgause say about all of this? She was Morgana, daughter of Gorlois. She didn't hide in her chambers. She wanted the truth. She wanted justice. She deserved a proper explanation of just about everything. And what she did with the information after… well, whatever she did, Merlin asked for it.

Morgana finished her wine and left the chalice by the bed. She took her time on her way to the door. Any discomfort she could cause the manservant was discomfort well-earned.

She opened the oak barrier and he stumbled in a little bit. His ears were bright red and she couldn't tell if it was because he was embarrassed or because he, too, was a little inebriated. She was comforted by either of those two concepts. Even Merlin needed a drink to deal with nerves. But was it really surprising? And when had her idea of him shifted so very much? Before, she might have said that Merlin especially needed drinks to deal with nerves. She avoided him for weeks for a plethora of reasons, all valid (of course), but that one ranked high among them. She couldn't yet properly reconcile the three versions of Merlin she had in her head.

Was he a bumbling, clumsy manservant? Was he a betrayer and a murderer? Or was he a creature so singularly powerful as to be capable of taking apart, with his hands, a conduit of magic forged by a deity?

She left the door open and moved back to her chalice, refilling it and taking a swig at it in quick succession. If anybody were to ask her, wine was without a doubt the greatest innovation in history.

Merlin closed the door behind him softly and offered a "Hello, Morgana."

She wanted to shove him out the window. "Merlin."

He glanced at the chalice in her hand with a good measure of longing and she smirked into her drink as she took it to her lips. For all that she was confused and angry, she was desperate for small victories. They were just about all she had. "Finally come about enough courage to explain yourself?"

That was unfair, and Morgana was well aware. She had been the one to avoid the meeting, but he wouldn't call her out on it.

He raised an eyebrow, but that was all. Merlin took retribution by walking around her chambers with more confidence than he had the right to. Any lingering sense of clumsiness from him was quickly dispelled. His face and his body were a study in contrasts - suspended between the face of a sorcerer, sharp eyes singularly focused on her, and the lean anticipatory stance of a servant, hands behind his back clasping each other, feet shoulder-width apart. Morgana wished very much that he would stick to one. Still, her remark got him into a liminal place. He had come as a servant. Or maybe it was actually just Merlin? Now she had to choose. Who did she want to talk to tonight? The Sorcerer or the Servant? Who had the answers she sought?

She decided on pawning off the decision to Merlin. "So, would you like to start off by talking about the time you killed me? Or maybe just everything that led up to that?"

There was much more bite in her comment than he had probably deserved, but if Merlin was of three natures then she was of four. Just because she refused to be out-classed. The weeks since Merlin's confession had done very little in the way of softening the blow, let alone placating her. Her outrage festered faster than her peace with the past. But Morgana was seeking resolution and she was willing, perhaps foolishly, to give Merlin the benefit of the doubt.

He ignored her comment, and she was mildly infuriated that he, he, wanted to take the high road. "Well, I believe I've told you a fair bit about the circumstances that led up to my arrival here in Camelot."

He took a seat at her table.

Morgana nodded and followed. She remembered. She replayed it in her head nightly. The scene had even come to dominate her dreams, despite Morgause's dream bracelet.

"So, a dragon told you that you were meant for great things. That explains your self-righteousness, but it doesn't do much to explain how you became Arthur's manservant."

He took the reigns, and settled back into being just Merlin. "Well I guess I should have known I was going to pay for calling him a prat, that first day. Yet here we are.

"It was really simple, actually. That poor woman, the witch, she wanted to kill Arthur. Naturally, I couldn't let that happen. Even though Arthur really was a prat. I saved his life, and what was my prize? Servitude. On the bright side…"

Merlin took a moment. "Actually, you know what? Not much of a bright side. Arthur doesn't even really pay me well. I suppose meeting Gwen was a good thing, but honestly, I had met her before I was Arthur's manservant, so I don't really think that counts?"

Morgana snorted. Surely the result of wine. Merlin raised an eyebrow at that, which she felt was a facial gesture likely acquired from being around Gaius too long. But the way he rambled? That was certainly one hundred percent Merlin.

"It's interesting that you complain about Arthur so much and yet you're so quick to defend him. Even at the cost of others."

Merlin's countenance withdrew upon itself a little at that, and Morgana found herself to mildly regret her remark. All things considered, this was the most pleasant they've been to one another in months. But she had to push him in the direction she wanted — the truth. Unfiltered, unadulterated. Admittedly she wanted this conversation to sting a little. If not her, then at least him. It'd feel almost unsubstantial if it didn't. And this, this was anything but unsubstantial.

"I complain about him because he needs to hear it. I defend him because he's my friend, Morgana. I don't see the need for any more reason than that."

She reached for some more wine and offered him the pitcher. His eyes glowed and the pitcher floated away from her hands and towards him. It poured its contents into his chalice.

The showmanship of magic was bold and offensive and utterly enchanting. Never before had Morgana seen magic used in such a frivolous, simple way. There was no flash of light, no puff of smoke.

"Did you have friends," she asked, "before coming to Camelot?"

"I had Will," Merlin said, "but aside from that I can't bring to mind many more than that."

"Will?" Morgana furrowed her brows. "Was he the sorcerer who saved us at your village? The one that…"

"The one that died?" His voice was even.

"Yes."

He pulled at his drink. "Well technically, I was the sorcerer who saved Ealdor. He was just a great friend."

"He took the blame for your magic as he died."

"Like I said, Morgana. He was a great friend. And I guess in some regards there is more power in that sort of friendship than there ever was in any magic. I should know, I've had magic all my life."

His implication was delightfully hypocritical. She made sure he knew. "Is there? Magic doesn't betray. It doesn't poison."

"But magic doesn't sacrifice itself for your sake either, Morgana. It doesn't pretend to be a servant to protect you. It doesn't scrub floors or clean stables."

"Well, clearly it's never done so for me, no. I wonder what makes me so undeserving."

Merlin said nothing, and she became impatient with the quiet.

Morgana scoffed. "All of that power, and look at you… You kneel before mortal princes."

"Yes, Morgana. I do. I've called forth lightning from the sky. I've commanded dragons. I've wielded a blade forged in a dragon's breath." He smiled. "And never in my life have I felt more powerful than I do when I stand by the side of a good man."

She narrowed her eyes. "You get awfully philosophical when you're drunk. Would you like to open a window next time you have a monologue to deliver? It'd complete the image."

"And give you the opportunity to push me out of it? I don't think so."

Morgana wondered, briefly, if he had overheard her thought about doing just that earlier.

"You think Arthur is a good man?"

"Don't you?"

She paused. "He will never allow magic in Camelot. It doesn't matter what he is."

"Sometimes achieving the greater good isn't worth sacrificing good people."

"Aren't we sacrificing enough good people as it is, Merlin? Every time Uther hears anything to do with magic he goes on a killing spree. Innocent people damned for something so beautiful."

Merlin groaned in exasperation. "Do you think I just twiddle my thumbs all day Morgana? I spend all of my time here helping sorcerers escape the dungeons. Or, at least the ones who aren't, you know, trying to kill Arthur. Or the king. Or me. Which is a surprising minority of the sorcerers who come to Camelot."

Morgana swirled her chalice and leaned forward, tilting her head. Her hair brushed against the wooden grain of the table. "Tell me about that."

Merlin sighed. "Which one? The stories are plenty but the hours of tonight are very much not. You may not have a job Morgana, but I do. And waking up Arthur when he has a hangover is a feat worthy of its own feast so…"

"How many people have tried to kill Uther? Or Arthur?"

"A sizeable and diverse amount of people. From peasants to high priestesses. Even you gave it a go once."

Morgana's eyes sharpened onto him. "How did you know?"

Merlin shrugged. "I watched you choose against killing him. It was sweet, really. Not murdering him was awfully considerate."

Morgana parted her lips but nothing came out. A moment passed. "You didn't stop me?"

"I let you stop yourself."

"Did you know that I would… that I wouldn't kill him then?"

"Well, no. Yes. Actually, I had no idea. But I had faith."

"You're a fool, Merlin. And so am I. For not killing Uther then."

"Yes, we're both idiots. Will that be all for tonight?"

Merlin moved to the window she had stationed herself at earlier. He watched the night march on as flitting little snowflakes danced the distance from the sky to the ground. He made no move to leave.

Morgana stood up herself and neared the window as well, unsure if the burning she felt within was ire or wine. "I'm not the only one here with things to be ashamed of Merlin."

Merlin turned to her. "I never said you were."

"Well then why do you look at me like I'm some unfortunate black sheep?"

Her voice was low and thick with frustration. Merlin kept his eyes on hers, listening carefully.

A sigh. "Despite your conviction otherwise, not everything is about you, Morgana."

She scoffed immediately. "Oh that's just rich coming from you, isn't it Merlin?"

"I don't ask for these things to happen to me Morgana!"

"And that's your problem isn't it?" She sized him up. "You lack initiative."

He glared. "And you lack perspective."

More wine. "Then give me perspective, oh mighty sorcerer."

Merlin was ready to bite back, but then "Did you call me 'oh mighty sorcerer'?"

Morgana blinked. "I… yes?"

Merlin covered his mouth, eyes twinkling.

"That's not funny Merlin, it's insulting."

His shoulder shook with laughter and a giggle broke free. Morgana was flustered and utterly bewildered as he began to laugh.

"Oh, that's hilarious. If only Arthur could hear this."

Slowly his laughter made her giggle involuntarily. "Merlin the Almighty Sorcerer. Who would have thought?"

He laughed harder until there were small tears collecting at his eyes. He wiped them away and they settled into silence.

It was a strange encounter, really. But it was a strange night, too. That the weather should be terrible on a great evening, that enemies laugh together, these are the sort of odd occurrences that make the world so genuine.

But were they really enemies? Merlin toyed with his chalice as the silence marched on with soft steps.

"I didn't want this destiny, not at first."

Morgana's eyes settled on him.

"I told the dragon that Arthur couldn't possibly be the right king. He said 'Arthur will be the greatest king to ever live.' I thought the dragon was crazy. I didn't really believe until I drank the poison. Arthur risked his life to save me."

She didn't respond.

"And even after that I still doubted. At least a little. But he always proved himself when I wasn't expecting him to. I never really had a lot of friends, growing up. It was just Will, really. So if Arthur isn't the Once and Future King? I'd at least have made a good friend. But I think he is the king." He stopped briefly, then said. "Do you remember when he helped us smuggle out Mordred?"

Morgana nodded. Her green eyes were focused. "Why did you help me?"

"Like I said, Morgana. I don't twiddle my thumbs all day. My goal is to make sure Uther can't cause any damage to anyone who doesn't deserve it."

She contemplated it for a time. "And you? Who's going to stop you from doing damage to people who don't deserve it?"

It was a sharp remark, but tonight wasn't about making any sort of amends. Tonight was about discovering how deep the wound between them goes.

Merlin bit the inside of his cheek, and then grinned. "Gaius constantly tells me off if I don't do things the right way, so I suppose he would be a significant safeguard against me dropping the ball."

Damn him, it was back to this.

"You care for the old man a great deal."

He raised an eyebrow. Like Gaius.

She was careful with her words. "Back in Ealdor, you introduced us to your mother but… we never got to meet your father."

Merlin took a big swig of wine at that, and Morgana was briefly concerned that soon they'd run out of the fuel of the conversation.

He maintained his disposition. "To be fair, at that point, neither had I."

"At that point?"

"I had the opportunity to meet him later on. Briefly."

"Briefly?"

His smile was rueful. "Complicated."

"Tell me about it."

He raised an eyebrow, tapped his fingers on the wood of the table. "Any particular reason you want to know?"

She put a hand under her chin, and watched him. "Complicated."

He shook his head. "When I released the dragon, there was only one person who could command him to cease his war against Camelot, a dragonlord. The last one. Take a lucky guess who it was."

"Oh."

"The power is passed down generation to generation. My father died in my arms. He took a blade meant for me."

She surprised herself and moved her hand to his before thinking better of it. She settled for "I'm sorry."

"What for? You were off with your sister by the time that happened. Not your fault." He swirled his chalice. No more wine.

"Regardless, I got the man who did it. Not that it made me feel any better."

Morgana knit her brows. "Did you…"

"Yes."

"Oh."

He nodded, and silence followed.

Morgana cleared her throat to speak but whatever she meant to say came out in a whisper. "How many?"

"Enough for me to understand that I am not a good man, Morgana."

She wasn't sure what to say about that. As much as she had dreamed of putting an end to Uther, she had never had to actually kill or even hurt anyone. The idea that Merlin had… it was unsettling. But she should know, shouldn't she? She was one of his victims, in a way.

His face was blank, but his eyes were clouded with regret. Or pain.

"Is that why you… you believe in Arthur so much? Because he's a good man and you're-"

"A monster?"

"That isn't what I was going to say."

He chuckled humorlessly. "Oh, wasn't it?"

Merlin was withdrawing fast. She wished desperately that she hadn't pushed him into exploring his own morality, but she was getting close. To what, she wasn't sure. To something. Too bad she couldn't conjure up anything to say.

"I don't think you're a bad person Merlin."

He flicked his gaze over to her, and he maintained it.

She continued. "I just think…" Morgana offered a weak smirk. It was more of a bashful smile. "I think you're just a little misled. A bit dramatic. Certainly self-righteous."

He snorted, and she wondered at whatever spell she cast to lift the mood.

"You forgot to add charming, handsome, and utterly enchanting to that list."

Morgana scoffed. "And arrogant."

"An argument could be made for the word confidence being more suitable."

Morgana watched him as his gaze began to roam the room. "I'm sorry for pushing you about all of that, Merlin. It wasn't… right."

He shrugged. "I think we've both done a fair share of that."

She nodded, and looked out the window.

Merlin observed, "It's dark."

She couldn't quite bite back the remark. "Very astute of you Merlin."

He grinned. "I know. I just can't help being clever. But that said, I should be going now. It's getting late."

She smiled. "What's the rush? Got a peasant girl waiting for you?"

Merlin laughed heavily. "I wish I had the time. But I'm always so busy stopping you from your scheming that I haven't been able to do any romancing."

This question was one posed out of sheer curiosity. It would hardly harm anyone. "Have you ever had a girlfriend, Merlin?"

"Uh… no? Well, definitely not at the village. And here in Camelot, I've been too busy for that. I suppose I had a small crush on Gwen at some point. But… I mean…" He swallowed and offered a name, but he spoke it so quietly that she couldn't hear it.

"So there was someone?"

He nodded and cleared his throat. "Her name was Freya."

Was? Morgana's heart dropped. Had she just stepped on another landmine in this conversation? Again?

"She died." He explained. "I was in love with her, but it was all so fast that I wouldn't call her a girlfriend."

Morgana shouldn't have felt as bad for Merlin as she did. He poisoned me she said in her mind, like a mantra. It brought up no emotion. She couldn't bring herself to hate him for that anymore.

Merlin continued, answering her questions before she asked them. "She was cursed to turn into a beast at night by a sorceress. I freed her, and we were going to run away together. I was going to leave my destiny behind for her."

He smiled a little. "Actually, I even stole one of your dresses for her. Arthur caught me with it and thought I was going to uh… wear it myself."

Morgana covered her mouth. "And I missed that?"

Merlin chuckled. "You missed quite a bit, actually."

"Why didn't you leave with her, Merlin?"

"I tried. I was ready, but that night she turned into the beast, and Arthur and the Knights took her down."

Morgana's heart dropped.

"It's not their fault. They didn't know. I wasn't fast enough, I didn't know enough magic to prevent it at the time."

"I'm sorry I brought that up Merlin, I didn't mean to-"

He shook his head and gave her a closed-lip smile. "It brings me no more pain, Morgana. Whenever I think of her, I just remember the good parts."

"What did she look like?"

"She was beautiful." He meant to get up, and gave it a second thought. "She looked… like this."

Merlin waved his hand in the space between them, and the sparks flew from the candle on their table, shaping themselves into the image of… Freya. The air shimmered with magic, hummed with hints of longing and peace. The sparks faded. There was nothing between her and Merlin now.

"That was beautiful."

"I'm sure you've seen more impressive things by now, Morgana."

Morgana was exhilarated by the magic show. Even still. Her sister had never done anything like that. Morgana only knew combat magic.

She shook her head. "Not things like that."

Merlin watched her face for a moment or two, which gave her time to realize that they were fairly closer than she had thought.

"I can… teach you? Only if you want, that is. And only if you promise not to kill me with it."

Morgana smirked. "You owe it to me anyways. We're going to have to work on that last condition a little. I can't quite promise anything so far as that's concerned."

He got out of his seat. "Good enough for me. I'm going to go now. I have to wake up the princess early tomorrow, so…"

"Good night Merlin," she said.

He turned to her at the door. "Good night Morgana."

And he was gone.

Morgana stayed at the table for some time, thinking. Merlin was… something else. But she understood now, to a degree, even if it was only a little, exactly who Merlin was. That would be enough.

They could find another way.

#mergana #merlin x morgana #bbcmerlin #merlin

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colorofmymindposts · 5 years

Text

Morgana and Guinevere Chapter Five

Fandom: BBC Merlin

Pairing: Morgana/Guinevere

Rating: Teen (Rating will increase in last chapter.)

Status: Incomplete

Word Count: 1587 for this chapter, 4646 for the entire work thus far

Story Summary: Set post 2x04. When Gwen returns safely from captivity, Morgana has many secrets about her own inner desires to tell her best friend. Gwen would be lying if she did not reciprocate her mistress’ feelings.

Chapter Summary: All is revealed.

Tags: Love Confessions, First Kiss, Tenderness

Notes: The entire work can be read here on ao3. Via tumblr, the first chapter can be read here, the second chapter here, the third chapter here, and the fourth chapter here. Last chapter will serve as an optional epilogue, but the story itself essentially ends here. Likes and reblogs are always appreciated!

Gwen knew. She knew. Not only of Morgana’s improper passions but illicit powers as well, of the dangerous woman she really was. A sob escaped Morgana as the reality of the situation came crashing down around her, and she couldn’t stop shaking and crying. Her legs gave out from under her, and she stifled her wails with covered hands. It was all over.

Gwen was a silent, looming presence above her.

“Gwen,” she started, voice choking around the lump in her throat. “I didn’t mean to—I would never hurt you. I didn’t even know I had this...curse until recently. My position doesn’t matter. I’ll be dead before the next dawn if Uther finds out what I am.”

“Morgana!” Her friend finally gasped, as if her declaration was shocking. It was only the truth.

An insistent knock startled both of them enough to look at Gwen’s door. It was already starting. Oh god, oh god, oh god…

She barely registered the girl moving past her to answer the door. She did not move to stop her either.

“Hello?”

“Yes, Guinevere. I thought I heard something shattering like glass, just a moment ago. I thought I would check in on you, see if you were alright.”

The concerned voice on the other side of the door belonged distinctly to an older man, not Gaius though. It must have been some other stranger in the village Morgana did not know. Gwen would give him the word to call for the night guards—to take Morgana away, throw her in the dungeon, to await condemnation and a sentence from King Uther. If she rushed the door and fled as quickly as she could on foot, she might be able to evade the guards. Yes, that’s what she’d have to do.

“Oh, that’s very kind of you, John. My window broke, but I think it must have been one of the men, probably just had a bit much to drink at the tavern. I should have no trouble cleaning it up on my own.”

What was she doing? Morgana was frozen where she sat on the floor. It took an effort to make herself turn her head to face the door, which Gwen only had open just enough for the man to make out her face. He probably had no idea that the Lady Morgana was lying on her servant girl’s floor.

“Those blasted drunkards! I suppose I should just be glad they didn’t do anything worse. I just figure, with your father gone, you should have someone checking in on you every now and again.”

“Well, I really appreciate it. I really think you should get back to bed though. I’m fine, and it’s awfully late.”

With a hum of assent and exchanging of goodbyes, Gwen shut the door firmly back into place.

The girl spun about on her heel and crouched down on her knees while gazing intently at Morgana. “That cut looks like it went rather deep. We’ll have to clean that out. Wouldn’t want to have to send you over to Gaius to treat you for an infection.”

Morgana watched mutely as Gwen walked over to a pail of water, dunked a fresh piece of cloth into it, and proceeded to kneel in front of her, gently stroking Morgana’s cheek with the wetted cloth.

“Why are you doing this?” Morgana all but hissed at Gwen, afraid and confused all at once. Was this some kind of game to her?

Gwen slightly recoiled at her tone, she could tell, and the cloth hung limply in her hand. “Because I care about you, Morgana. I would never want to see you executed let alone suffer from any injury, however small. I don’t believe all sorcerers are evil. I can’t believe it. How could I, when one so compassionate and pure of heart sits before me?”

Blinking her eyes, once, twice, Morgana could not deny that the words had indeed come out of Gwen’s mouth and that they were offered genuinely.

“How...how can you think that way? When all Camelot has taught us is that magic is evil along with those that have it?” She queried. There should be no reason in God’s name to question Gwen’s clemency and yet she had to know if she knew nothing else.

“Morgana, I helped you send Mordred away. I was almost executed for being accused of sorcery only last year. And my own father was executed wrongly for supposedly harbouring a sorcerer. What we’ve been taught...I cannot believe it to be completely true. No one group of people can be entirely evil. And they do not deserve to be persecuted as they are by this kingdom. I would shudder to think that the King would hold any ill will towards you for anything, he cares for you so much, but I cannot say I know him as well as you do. You are the kindest, most beautiful soul I have ever known. You wouldn’t harm me or anyone else with your magic. I swear I shall tell no one of your secret.”

The tears spilled from her eyes before Morgana could stop them. Nor could she resist wrapping her arms around her friend, sobbing with relief into the crook of her neck.

“Oh Gwen, I was so frightened! It’s only been a few months, but they’ve been the worst of my life, hiding this side of myself from everyone. I feared retribution from anyone who learned of my magic, but you…,’ Morgana paused to withdraw herself from the warmth of her friend. She needed to look her in the eyes. ‘You have my eternal gratitude for your acceptance. I don’t know how to repay you.”

“I don’t want you to pay me anything. I want you to be happy. If you are, I consider that my eternal reward,” her friend replied easily, dropping the cloth shortly after.

It was, to her own amazement, that Morgana could smile freely after that pronouncement. “This wasn’t exactly how I imagined this night would go.”

Gwen, bless her, actually giggled slightly. “I wouldn’t think so, no. But you didn’t come here to tell me about your magic, right? That seemed like an accident.”

“No, I didn’t.”

A silence fell between them as they seemingly both remembered what preceded the window shattering. In a way, what had caused it to shatter in the first place, revealing Morgana’s magic.

“Gwen...I can understand if I have one too many vices to forgive. It’s alright. Forget I even said anything, I can—”

Morgana was swiftly cut off by Gwen placing her index finger on top of Morgana’s parted lips. Gently, and ever so slowly that an age must have passed, Gwen pressed a simple but tender kiss to Morgana’s forehead.

“You’ve a beautiful mind, M’Lady,” Gwen whispered, lips just a fraction above Morgana’s forehead. It made her shiver and inadvertently withdraw from Gwen slightly. “I wonder though how you talk yourself in such circles, when the truth is so clear.”

“I’m sorry. I’ve lost all ability to think now that you’ve done that Gwen, you’ll have to tell me what truth you’re talking about.”

The smile that graced Gwen’s face at that moment was truly a sight to behold. No artist could capture that beam that tugged upwards on the corners of her lips, that effortlessly let in a rush of happiness into Morgana’s chest.

“I thought I’d been so obvious,” her friend admitted, seeming unbelieving that she hadn’t been. She pulled a few inches away and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she did so. “That’s why I was trying to stay away from you these last few days, though they’ve left me restless. I thought you would find me out.”

“Gwen, I don’t understand. Find out what?”

“I am in love with no man,” Gwen stopped herself, drawing a long breath before she continued. Her hands shook in her lap, and her voice began to be imbued with a quality of unrestrained fondness as she spoke. “I love a lady, so very fair. She has hair as dark as a raven, that flows in long waves down her back. I have brushed it many a time when she has allowed me to. She has perfect rosy lips and exquisite emerald eyes that I’ve recently learned sometimes turn to an amazing golden without her even trying. Once, I thought I might tell her how I felt when I picked some flowers for her, but I was too afraid then. I cannot be now. I am in love with the fairest lady in all the land, and she sits before me. I can only be so glad that she returns my affections, more than I ever could have hoped.”

Such a feeling of euphoria blossomed in Morgana at Gwen’s declaration that she could contain herself no longer. Her friend’s kiss had meant everything Morgana had wanted it to mean. Closing the distance between them, Morgana clasped her hand at the base of Gwen’s neck as she found Gwen’s eager lips to receive her own. The feeling...was more than anything Morgana had ever known before. The rush of warmth that flew to her cheeks, her mouth and the fluttering in her stomach couldn’t be helped, but Gwen’s soft caress left Morgana in absolute ecstasy, sighing into the other girl’s mouth for more, more, more. The glow of the moonlight shone brightly on their faces as they met each other again and again in their clandestine embrace.

#morgwen #morgana #guinevere #bbc merlin #my writing #fanfiction

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mischiefandspirits · 5 years

Text

From the Start: The Lady of the Lake

It was supposed to be a one time thing. Arthur let the sorcerer run off with his life in return for him saving Arthur’s. He had never expected to see the boy again, especially not only two days later in Gaius’s chambers.

Also on AO3

Halig burped and stood up, waving down one of the tavern girls. “Watch my food. I’ve gotta go check on my prize.”

The girl nodded and he lumbered towards the door. Suddenly someone bumped into him, spilling their drink onto him.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” a young woman said, brushing at his jacket.

“Not a problem,” he answered, looking the pretty thing up and down.

“Please, let me buy you a drink as an apology.”

“Well, I won’t say no to a drink, just let me -”

She set her hand on his arm. “I need to be going soon, let me buy you a drink now?”

He looked her up and down again. Well, his prize wasn’t going anywhere. “How can I say no to a face like that?”

She muttered something under her breath then led him over to the bar. “A drink for my friend here!”

The barkeep grunted and dropped a tankard in front of them.

“Thank you,” she said, paying.

“Thank you, dear,” Halig chuckled. He grabbed the drink and took a big swig. He reached out for the young woman, but felt nothing but air. He looked around, but she was nowhere to be seen.

“Tease,” he huffed. He finished off his drink then headed out of the tavern.

Gwen caught Merlin’s eye in the hall and he ducked his head. “Gwen, thank you so much! I owe you.”

“It’s fine, Merlin,” she replied.

“It isn’t. Mordred told me about how that guy had been looking at you.”

“Oh, it’s not the first time I’ve dealt with creeps,” she said, waving it off. “How is she?”

Merlin shifted the tray in his arms and glanced around them. “She’s okay. We brought her down to the tunnels beneath the walls. I’m going to go check on her after I drop Arthur’s breakfast off.”

“Make sure you tell him,” she said, giving him a knowing look.

“Yeah, yeah. You know he’s going to kill me when he hears.”

“No, he won’t.”

“I’m going to kill you!”

“Gwen owes me lunch,” Merlin muttered, dodging a thrown goblet.

“And that’s only if my father doesn’t get to you first! What were you thinking? Nevermind, I already know you weren’t!”

“Are you done, sire?” Merlin sighed, grabbing the goblet and returning it to Arthur’s table.

“No. And where’s Mordred? I need to yell at him too.”

“He chickened out and went to collect herbs for Gaius.”

Arthur snorted and snatched up one of his sausages.

“Arthur, you should have seen her in that cage. I couldn’t just leave her there.”

Arthur made the mistake of looking at his servant’s face.

He rolled his eyes and grabbed a piece of cheese before shoving the plate at Merlin. “Wrap the rest of that up in a cloth.”

Merlin gave him a bemused look, but did as told while Arthur pulled on his boots.

“Bring me to her,” Arthur said, reaching for his sword.

“Is that necessary?” Merlin asked.

He rolled his eyes again, but left the sword. Instead he grabbed Merlin’s arm and shoved him towards the door. “Go.”

Merlin led him down out of the citadel and towards the gate, but paused when he saw the line of people being checked over by the guards.

Arthur, on the other hand, ignored it, continuing on past the line of people who curtsied or bowed their heads as he passed and Merlin hurried to follow. The guards didn’t give Arthur and Merlin a passing glance, but the bounty hunter reached out and grabbed Merlin, yanking him away.

“Where’d you think you were going?”

Merlin blinked. “I was just -”

“Search him,” the man ordered a guard, shoving Merlin at him.

The guard gave Merlin a confused expression, but stepped forwards.

“What is going on here?” Arthur snapped, finally noticing Merlin wasn’t at his side and coming back around.

“Your Highness,” the guard said, bowing, and the bounty hunter quickly followed suit. “A druid girl escaped from this man last night. Your father has ordered us to assist him.”

“That doesn’t explain why you’re accosting Merlin of all people and holding me up.”

“Apologies, My Lord.”

“Your father gave me permission to search the people in case someone is hiding the girl, Your Highness,” the bounty hunter said, puffing out his chest. “This boy tried to pass through without being checked.”

Arthur crossed his arms and sent the man a look. “Are you suggesting I am hiding the girl?”

He blinked, shrinking. “O-of course not, sire.”

“Really, because Merlin is accompanying me to the Lower Town, so if you are suggesting he is going to meet the girl, then clearly you are suggesting the same of me.”

“N-no, sire, that’s not what I meant. We can’t just allow -”

Arthur glared at the man. “He is my servant. I can allow him whatever I wish.” He turned to the guards. “Merlin has my absolute trust. He is to be allowed to pass freely from now on. If you have a problem with him, you come to me. Do you understand?”

“Of course, Your Highness,” the guards agreed immediately, bowing.

Arthur sent the bounty hunter a look and he immediately ducked his head and agreed. The prince turned on his heel and marched off with a called, “Merlin.”

Once Merlin had stumbled up to his side, he growled. “I hate men like that. Ones who think since my father shows them even the smallest favor then they can do as they wish, despite their station.”

“Yeah, only noble prats are allowed to act like that,” Merlin joked.

Arthur shoved him. “Watch yourself. You’re the one they’re looking for, remember. I could always just go back and hand you over to them.”

“But you won’t,” Merlin said cheerfully, leading Arthur into the tunnels. He looked over his shoulder as they disappeared into the shadows. “She’s a bit jumpy so try not to act so…”

“Intimidating?”

“Haughty.”

Arthur reached out to smack his head, but missed in the darkness. “Darnit, Merlin I can’t see anything!”

Suddenly a light appeared in front of them, glittering gold and blue.

“That’s not what I meant,” he hissed, managing to smack the warlock’s head this time.

“Ow! Can’t I ever just get a thank you?”

“Shut up, Merlin.”

They reached Freya to see that she was sleeping.

Of course the beast is here, Arthur snorted internally, spotting Cavall curled up against her as Merlin moved to wake her.

He stayed back as Merlin gave her the food and set up some candles. It was only with the added light that she spotted the prince.

She flinched back and Arthur held up his hands, stepping forward then kneeling.

“It’s okay. He’s a friend. I promise he’s actually really soft,” Merlin said.

“Oi!”

She glanced between the two nervously, but continued eating.

Arthur stayed back, letting the two talk.

“I know what it's like to keep secrets.”

Freya looked up at the man Merlin had brought briefly, to see him staring down the tunnel. “Who else knows you have magic?”

“Besides Mordred, only Arthur and our friend Gwen.” Merlin glanced at the man, Arthur, as well then leaned closer. “Modred has magic too, was a druid like you, but Gwen and Arthur… They don’t really get it.”

“I wish I was like everyone else, but…”

“You always know, deep down, you're not?”

“Because I'm cursed.”

Arthur’s head perked up, but Merlin didn’t even blink.

“Freya, don't say that!”

It must be the work of a magical creature.

Arthur was an idiot. No, Merlin was an idiot who really needed to grow out of his pup face. Honestly, Mordred couldn’t even pull it off anymore and Merlin was four years his elder.

“That's not a strawberry,” he heard the druid girl giggle.

“Er, it's the right color,” Merlin responded and Arthur came around the corner to see him handing her a rose.

Oh great, he has a crush! There was no way this was going to be easy.

“We need to talk,” Arthur growled and the two jumped.

“Arthur?” Merlin asked, but the prince ignored him.

He marched up to tower over the girl. “Why did you do it?”

The girl stared up at him with terrified eyes, but also knowing ones.

“Arthur!” Merlin snapped, stumbling to his feet and trying to pull him back. “What are you doing?”

“Two people were found killed in the lower town. All evidence points to magic.” Arthur turned his glare on Merlin. “Do you think it’s a coincidence that you freed a druid girl and then the next night magic attacks?”

“Yes!”

“He’s right.”

The two turned to the girl.

“Freya?”

She gave Merlin sorrowful eyes. “I’m sorry. You’ve been so good to me, but I don’t deserve it. I’m not like you.”

“Why did you attack those people? Merlin rescued you, we’ve been hiding you. Why would you turn against us like this?” Arthur asked.

She bowed her head. “I didn’t want to. I hate killing, but I have no choice. I’m cursed.”

Merlin tried to go to her, but Arthur shoved him back, hand falling to his sword. “You said that before, what did you mean?”

“I’m a monster. I… There was a man. He attacked me. I didn't mean to hurt him, but I thought he was going to kill me.”

“It was an accident,” Merlin said.

“His mother was a sorceress, and when she found out that I'd killed her son, she cursed me to kill forever more. At midnight I transform into a beast the druids called a Bastet. I can’t control myself in that form. All it wants to do is kill and all I can do is watch through its eyes. That’s why I went to the druids to begin with. I had hoped they could help me.”

“They couldn’t?” Arthur asked, studying her.

She shook her head. “I was too dangerous to keep around. They didn’t have a way to keep me contained for long enough to find the cure. They could fend me off, but only for so long. Someone ended up getting hurt.”

“There has to be a way for us to help you,” Merlin said from behind Arthur.

The prince thought over her words. “The dungeons should hold her.”

The girl’s head fell further down and Arthur could feel Merlin’s eyes burning into his back.

“There are larger cells under the normal ones. We don’t use them much now. They’re made completely of stone aside from the solid metal doors. We could lock you in while you’re transformed so you won’t hurt anyone while Merlin and Mordred figure out how to cure you.”

The girl’s head whipped up so fast Arthur was sure it had to hurt.

He turned to Merlin, who was giving him his I’m a proud idiot smile. “Have you heard of this Bastet beast before?”

“No, but I can ask Mordred. If the druids recognized it, then hopefully he’ll at least know something that can give us a starting point.”

“Then -”

“You believe me?”

He turned back to the girl.

“Of course!” Merlin chirped.

“Not yet,” Arthur countered. “But if you are telling the truth, we need to get you somewhere where you can’t hurt anyone. And if you aren’t, then you’ll already be in the dungeons so that’s good enough for me.”

“Arthur,” Merlin hissed, but Freya relaxed and nodded.

“That is fair.”

Arthur nodded back. “Then I will come and get you just after sundown.”

“Mordred and I will prepare a cell, make sure it’s comfortable for you.”

“Thank you, Merlin,” she replied and Arthur took his leave of the two.

Arthur eyed the guards marching along their patrol routes before slipping into the darkness.

Freya was waiting for him when he reached her, Merlin’s jacket wrapped around her shoulders and the candles extinguished. He placed Merlin’s cloak over the jacket. “Keep the hood up and your head down. No one’s likely to question you as you’re with me, but if the wrong person sees and gets curious…”

Freya frowned, but pulled up the hood. She ducked her head and held his arm as he brought her out of the tunnels and up to the citadel, avoiding the patrols easily.

Too easily. He was going to have to rework the routes when this was all over. There were far too many holes for people to use. Good for his warlocks to do their thing, but also for anyone else up to no good.

Mordred met them at the entrance to the dungeons and led them down, distracting the guards so they could slip past. The three quickly slipped through the halls and down the stairs until they reached the cell Merlin had prepared, the older warlock and Gwen waiting for them.

She smiled and stepped forward slightly, holding out her hand. “Hello, I’m Guinevere, though everyone calls me Gwen.”

Freya tugged her cloak closer. “Merlin told me about you. He said you helped him free me.”

“It was my pleasure.” She held out a dress. “Here, it might be a bit big, but I thought it might be nicer than what you have now.”

Freya stared at the dress, not taking it. “Why are you all so good to me?” she looked up at them. “I’ve killed people, many people. I could kill again.”

“We won’t let that happen,” Merlin said, taking her hand. “I promised you I'd look after you, and I will. We will. You’re safe here.”

“And people will be safe from you,” Arthur agreed. “If you’re honest, then you’ve had enough pain brought upon you. I will see to it you do not face more.”

“Told you he was actually really soft,” Merlin whispered to her.

“Shut up, Merlin,” Arthur growled, turning away and marching off to the sound of Gwen’s and Mordred's muffled chuckles.

“Try to get as much rest as you can,” Gwen said, giving Freya the dress before heading off after Arthur.

Modred gave her a wide smile. “I’m going to start looking through our books. Night, Freya!”

“Goodnight.”

Mordred ran off, catching up to Gwen just as she turned a corner.

Freya turned to Merlin, clutching the dress closer. “You should go as well.”

Merlin shook his head. “I want to stay with you.”

“You can’t -”

He stopped her with a squeeze of her hand, stepping closer. “Until just before midnight. Please, I don’t want you to have to be down here alone.”

“You're not scared of me?”

Merlin took another step closer and shrugged. “I’ve faced worse. Uglier too. You should have seen the troll.”

Freya chuckled and pressed into his side.

“Come see what we’ve done,” Merlin said, pulling her towards the cell.

She smiled, but inside she couldn’t feel his excitement.

A cell was better than a cage, but it was still a cell.

He pushed open the door and waved her in.

She stepped into the doorway, then froze.

Rose vines and Welsh poppies grew up the corners and across the ceiling, filling the room with their scent. A few glass orbs held up by the vines glittered with a soft, warm light. A nest of blankets and pillows created a soft looking bed on one side, which Merlin’s familiar was making use of. Most astounding though was the painting across one wall. It featured a tall mountain range with a lake at the base.

“You remembered!”

“Of course. I'm so sorry for what that sorcerer did to you.”

Freya pulled him into a hug. This... This was the nicest thing anyone had done for her since she’d fled her home after realizing she’d been cursed. “Merlin, you have nothing to be sorry for.”

He hugged her back. “I promise, we’ll save you.”

“You've already saved me. You made me feel loved.”

Merlin pulled back with a blush.

The two looked into each other's eyes then, as one, leaned in.

“Has Halig found the girl yet?” Uther asked, glancing up at Arthur before looking back down at the grain reports.

“The guards report that there hasn’t been any sign of her.”

“She’s likely long gone.”

“If she was ever here. We’ve seen no sign that such a girl even existed. Maybe he made the whole thing up in hopes you’d pay him anyways.”

“Halig’s usually far more reliable.”

“Perhaps you’ve allowed him too much favor and he’s become complacent.”

“You may be right. Either way, we can’t waste men on this any longer. It’s been a fortnight already. Tell the guard to return to their posts.”

“Of course, father.”

Arthur watched the bounty hunter’s cart trundle into the forest through a hall window before continuing on his way to the physician’s chambers.

“Merlin,” he called as he strutted inside, then paused.

Merlin was sitting at the table next to a girl Arthur almost didn’t recognize.

Freya had cleaned herself up, the dirt and grime washed away to reveal flawless fair skin and bright chestnut hair.

He gave her a smile. “It’s good to see you out and about.”

She smiled back, running a finger over her braid. “It’s nice to be out, even if it’s only during the day.”

Merlin smiled and set a hand on her shoulder, but was stopped from saying anything when Gaius came in.

“Prince Arthur, is there something I can do for you? Or were you looking for Merlin?” He asked, giving Merlin a look.

“Prince?” Freya squeaked.

#merlin emrys #Arthur Pendragon #freya #freylin #arthur knows #fts story

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imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul · 6 years

Text

Stubborn - Merlin

Requested by @milleniumxhan

Pairing: Merlin x Reader Word Count: 1,329 Synopsis: The reader is a princess coming to visit that Merlin is in charge of showing around Camelot. She’s stubborn and sassy and teasing and just might push Merlin to his edge.

“Merlin, I wonder if you might entertain a visiting princess this week.”

“Are you asking me or telling me?” Arthur clapped his back and grinned.

“Telling. I planned a romantic week with Guinevere and completely forgot that the Princess Y/N was coming to visit. I’ll try to find some time, but if I can’t, you’ll make sure she has a wonderful time in Camelot, won’t you?”

“Of course,” Merlin said, forcing a smile.

“Good man. I expect a good report.” Arthur walked out of the room, and Merlin kicked the side table. As if he didn’t have enough to worry about. He was already focusing on being a good servant and friend to Arthur, learning his magic, and keeping said magic from said Arthur.

After gathering what composure he could, Merlin made his way back to his room. If his time was going to be spent entertaining a princess, he was going to take all the time for himself before she got here.

Gaius was out, so Merlin got to work practicing a few spells. He was working on transformations. Specifically, how to transform an inanimate object into a living, breathing one. A rusty spoon sat on his table, Merlin concentrating hard on it. He mumbled some words under his breath and the spoon transformed into a butterfly.

Merlin smiled. He walked up to the butterfly, noticing that it was still not moving. It flapped its wings every once in a while, but it didn’t get up from the table.

“Come on, little guy.”

“What did you do to that spoon?” Merlin whipped his head around and saw a woman in a yellow dress standing in his doorway.

“W-What?” You descended the stairs with a smile and walked up to the butterfly. You smiled at it, getting your nose right up to its wing.

“How did you make this butterfly out of a spoon?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, I was standing in the doorway, and you started whispering something and suddenly the spoon was a butterfly. How did you do it?”

“You must be seeing things.” You smiled widely and shrugged.

“Maybe. Or maybe you’re some kind of sorcerer.” Merlin’s face paled as your eyes widened. “You are! You’re a sorcerer!”

“Be quiet!” Merlin slapped his hand over your mouth. He looked around nervously as you tried to laugh. You pushed him off and wiped your mouth on your sleeve.

“Well, you certainly know how to treat a princess.”

“What you saw, wasn’t what you thought you saw.”

“I’m not stupid,” you said, “Can you show me how to do that?”

“No. No, I mean, I didn’t do anything.” You rolled your eyes and turned your attention back to the butterfly.

“This is truly beautiful.” Merlin sighed and you looked back at him with a smile. “You should be proud.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Right. Well, if you didn’t, there is someone here with really excellent skill. I’d like to meet them, but I guess I’ll settle for you. I’m Y/N.” You held out your hand and Merlin shook it reluctantly.

“Merlin.”

“I know. Arthur sent me here to find you. He didn’t say you were a sorcerer though.”

“Y/N, I know you think what you think. But, you’re wrong. And even if you think you aren’t, you cannot tell anyone.” You smiled widely, watching the nerves grow in his eyes.

“I know. Like I said, I’m not stupid. I’m not going to blab your secret.”

“But it’s not my secret-”

“Oh, Merlin, shut up! You’re supposed to show me a good time, so do it.” Merlin breathed out of his nose, feeling as hot as the dragon he had met when he moved to Camelot.

“Fine. Right this way, princess.”

“You’re not what I thought of when Arthur told me I’d be walking around with his man-servant.”

“And what exactly did you expect?”

“I don’t know. Someone less dorky.” You laughed into your goblet, enjoying the look on Merlin’s face.

“Well, you’re not entirely what I thought of when Arthur said I’d be trailing some princess around.”

“Oh really?” you asked, a smile growing on your face. “Do say more.”

“Well, firstly, you don’t dress like a princess.” You cocked your eyebrow and leaned back in your chair. “Guinevere would never wear that.”

“I thought the queen wasn’t originally royalty? Wasn’t she just a servant like you? Besides, what about my dress doesn’t make me look like a princess?”

“It’s one-sleeved! Not even respectable!” You snapped your head around and Merlin fell silent.

“Fashion is just different where I’m from. Also, where I’m from, servants don’t disrespect royalty.” Merlin paled and you took a bite of your meal.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I like the way I dress. I know it’s not normal. But I’m not normal.”

“I noticed.” You laughed.

“And you know what else?”

“What?”

“You’re not normal either. You’re a sorcerer.” Merlin had been nodding along to what you were saying, but he immediately stopped.

“No, I’m not.”

“Oh come on, just admit it!” you squealed, leaning forward and touching his hand. Merlin looked up at your eyes and you could see the tension in his. You smirked and pulled your hand away.

“I don’t have anything to admit.”

“Tell me, or I’ll tell Arthur that I had a horrible time.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I might,” you said, widening your eyes. “You’ve seen how I act. I’m sporadic and stubborn.” Merlin tutted and stood up.

“Fine. I will say it.”

“Because it’s true or because it’s what I want?” Merlin took in a deep breath.

“Both.” You smiled and stood up, walking towards Merlin. He tensed up noticeably.

“I knew it,” you whispered.

“I’m a sorcerer.” You cheered and walked out of the room.

For the rest of your stay in Camelot, you didn’t bring up the sorcery thing to Merlin. Instead, you let him show you around the kingdom, making fun of him for everything but. You got along great with everyone on purpose. You got along with everyone, usually. But there was something about Merlin that made you want to tease him and stress him out.

You weren’t looking forward to your stay in Camelot. Yes, Arthur was a great man and king, but he was very fond of looking after his wife. None of the knights excited you. No one else made you happy like Merlin.

At the end of your stay, the entire kingdom was there to send you off. You wore a rose-colored dress, and you made sure to ask Merlin if he thought it appropriate. As you walked in front of Arthur, you watched Merlin smile.

“I hope you enjoyed your stay,” Arthur said, bowing.

“I did. Thank you. Your servant was very kind and knowledgeable about Camelot.”

“Merlin? Really?”

“Really. Oh, another thing about your servant, he is very unique.”

“Oh yeah?” You looked over at Merlin and smirked.

“Yes. Something I found out the minute I met him. Something I would have never guessed.” Arthur watched you closely and you smiled. “Giant ears.”

“Farewell, Y/N,” Arthur said with a laugh. The crowd dispersed and Merlin followed you down to your carriage.

“I was about to murder you,” he said, coming up to your side.

“That’s no way to talk to royalty.”

“I think we’re past that.”

“Just because I teased you all week doesn’t mean that you get to threaten me.”

“You’re so stubborn,” Merlin said, stopping.

“I know.” You smiled, turning to face him. “Thank you for showing me around. And for putting up with my antics,” you added.

“No problem. Even though Arthur made me, I enjoyed it.”

“I hope to see you on my next visit.”

“I’m sure if that’s what you want that’s what you’ll get.”

“Well, there is one more thing that I want.” Merlin raised his eyebrows, getting ready to ask as you leaned in and kissed him. You pulled away, laughing at Merlin’s speechless face. “Giant ears.”

#requested #merlin #merlin imagine #merlin oneshot #merlin fanfic #merlin fanfiction #merlin x reader #emrys #emrys imagine #emrys oneshot #emrys fanfic #emrys fanfiction #emrys x reader #merlin bbc #merlin bbc oneshot #merlin bbc imagine #merlin bbc fanfic #merlin bbc fanfiction

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magicalmischel · 7 years

Text

Magic Flames

CHAPTER 7 - All Problems Solved But One

The throne room was cold and empty. Only the king, Uther Pendragon, was sitting on his throne, his fist supporting his chin, with a tired and sad expression on his face. He almost killed his best friend and then he lost his only two children. Even though Arthur was the cause of Ygraine's death, he still loved his son dearly and with all his heart, as every father should. He never talked about Arthur's mother, though. It hurt too much.

And he never told Morgana that Gorlois wasn't her real father. He, the king Uther Pendragon, was. Morgana was his daughter. She was the rightful heir to the throne if Arthur died. Blood of Pendragons was flowing through her veins and she didn't even know.

The king sighed and closed his eyes, the crown too heavy on his head all of a sudden. All he had to do was wait for someone to return with a message or at least an inkling to where Arthur and Morgana could have gone. And the waiting was killing him.

Suddenly the huge doors opened and the king raised his head. It was his most loyal knight, Sir Leon, with his searching party. He bowed his head and clasped his hands together behind his back.

"My lord," he started and looked up. "I'm afraid we didn't find your son, sire. Nor lady Morgana." The knight said and took a tiny step back. Everybody feared the wrath of Uther Pendragon.

"Are you telling me that even the best knights of Camelot couldn't find one man and woman?" Uther said and stood up.

Leon looked down again. "I'm sorry, my lord, we've been tryin-"

"I don't care that you've been useless so far!" Uther yelled. "Bring me my son and my ward back! Don't return until you find them!" He said and waved his hand. "You're dismissed."

Leon bowed his head again and turned around with all the knights to leave. But then the doors opened once again, and this time it wasn't a searching party who came it.

It was Arthur.

And Merlin with Gwen, right behind him.

"Arthur?" Uther said and took a step forward.

"It's me, father." Arthur smiled and the king immediately went to his son to give him a short hug. He smiled as Arthur hugged him back and then he pulled away, keeping his hand on his son's shoulder.

"What happened? Where have you been?" Uther asked. "I sent searching parties after you and Morgana, but they didn't find anything." He said. Then he looked around and saw Merlin and Gwen, standing there and smiling. The king's smile faded. "Guards," he said and pointed at the servant and maid. "Seize them." He ordered.

Arthur turned around quickly. "No, no, father, it's alright!" He said hurriedly. "It's not their fault, they're innocent!" He tried to explain, but the guards were already holding Merlin and Gwen.

"They kidnapped you and freed a sorcerer!" Uther said, looking at Merlin and Gwen with hatred in his eyes. "Aredian was right, the boy is a sorcerer." He said.

"No, father!" Arthur yelled. "It's all just a misunderstanding, I was not kidnapped!" He said and for the first time it seemed the king was listening as he looked straight at Arthur.

"Then what happened?" He asked him.

"Um, I... I went for a hunt!" Arthur lied. He forgot to prepare for this. "And after Gaius disappeared, I just had to go clear my head, so I went for a hunt and took Merlin and Gwen with me, and I'm sorry I didn't say anything, but I needed to... to be alone. Just for one night." He said. God, even Merlin could lie better, and Arthur actually believed him and thought he was just an idiot. But maybe his father will believe him.

Uther narrowed his eyes and looked at Arthur and then at Gwen with Merlin, who didn't even dare to move. "Is this true?" He asked, looking at Merlin.

Merlin started nodding immediately, maybe even too quickly. "Yes, my lord." He answered. "We went hunting and then we camped in the woods, and-"

"Arthur?" Uther rolled his eyes. He didn't have to listen to that Arthur's simpleton with a mental affliction.

"It's true," Arthur said, looking into his father's eyes. "I swear."

"Alright," Uther looked at Leon and two other knights, who were holding Merlin and Gwen. "Let them go." He ordered. The knights obeyed.

"You," Uther then pointed at Gwen.

"Yes, my lord?" She bowed, scared of what the king wanted to say or do.

"Is it true that you saw Morgana performing magic?" He asked. Gwen frowned and looked at her king.

"No, my lord." She said. "I haven't seen anything, lady Morgana doesn't have magic." She said. Why did he ask?

"So Aredian lied." Uther said.

"That's why we're here." Merlin said then and Uther looked at him. After he nodded, Merlin continued. "We have a proof that Gaius is innocent." He said.

"That's true, father." Arthur said. "We wish to have an audience with you." He continued then. "We have a witness."

"Very well." He nodded. "I'll make an audience, but where is Morgana?" He asked then, looking around the throne room.

"I don't know." Arthur answered, looking at his father. "I thought she was in the castle, with you." He added.

"She was, but then someone kidnapped her, yesterday before midnight." He told his son. "We have to find her."

"I'll go looking for her." Arthur said. "But first we need to have the audience. Aredian's behind all of this, he's been lying to us since the very beginning."

Uther wasn't sure what to believe anymore, so he just nodded. "Bring me your witness." He said. "And the Witchfinder!" Arthur went to Leon and told him their witness' name. Then Leon and all the other knights left the room, leaving Merlin with Gwen and Arthur with Uther alone in the big cold throne room.

xoXOXox

Not even twenty minutes later, the doors opened again and Aredian entered the room. He bowed and suspiciously looked at Arthur and the two servants, standing in the corner of the room. Then he went straight to the king, and stopped when he was next to him, waiting for whoever was supposed to enter the throne room next.

The knights went in with all of Aredian's witnesses. The three girls looked around the room, and bowed in front of their king. Then the seller bowed as well, and went closer to Uther. Arthur stood next to him and Merlin reached to his pocket, where he had the Belladonna flower petals. They needed proof and they had one. Merlin even prepared some extra help in Aredian's chambers.

Once everyone was in their right places and it was quiet, Uther looked at Merlin and nodded. "Speak." He said.

"Sire," Merlin started. "The witnesses saw nothing but hallucinations," he looked at Aredian, who dangerously looked back. Merlin swallowed and continued. "Induced by the Belladonna and these eye drops." He said and looked at the seller. He gave him the eye drops and Merlin handed them to Uther.

"And you bought this Belladonna from this man?" The king asked and looked at the three girls. They all nodded and Merlin smiled a bit. They were right! "Where did you get it from?" Uther asked then and looked at the seller.

The man looked around the room hesitantly and Uther said, "don't be afraid. No harm will come to you here."

"The witchfinder," the man finally admitted and Merlin looked at Uther and then at Aredian. "He gave them to me," the man continued.

"Did he tell you what it was for?" Uther asked.

"No." Was the answer. "Only that if I did not sell it, he'd have me burnt at the stake."

Uther turned to Aredian. "How do you answer to these accusations?"

"They are absurd." The witchfinder simply said, looked at Uther and then at Merlin again. "The boy has clearly concocted these lies in the hope of saving his master."

"Then you won't mind if we search your chambers." Merlin said.

"Silence!" Uther yelled at him as Arthur rolled his eyes at Merlin's stupidity. "You have no authority here!"

"Father," Arthur said and went to his servant. "Let's settle this once and for all. If what Merlin, Gwen and I say is wrong, then we must bear the consequences." He said and looked Merlin in the eye. Merlin looked back and then they both looked at their king. "But if there is some truth in what we say..."

"I have nothing to hide." Aredian said then.

Merlin and Arthur smiled and looked at each other. This plan was going to work and they were finally going to save Gaius. Merlin looked at Aredian then and noticed that he seemed a bit nervous, after they left the throne room.

The closer they were to his chambers, the more nervous he looked, but he evidently tried to look completely normal. He said he had nothing to hide after all. If only he knew what had Merlin prepared for him in his little cupboard.

Merlin chuckled slightly and Arthur looked at him, but he just shrugged and smiled at him. Arthur smiled back and then they finally reached the door to Aredian's chambers.

The knights went in, and immediately started searching through his things. Just like Merlin and Arthur did a few hours ago, only a little louder. They searched everywhere. Behind the curtain, under the bed, through his books...

"You're wasting your time," Aredian said, but it was pointless.

"the cupboard over there." Arthur told one of the knights and pointed to the cupboard where he and Merlin found the Belladonna earlier. Merlin smirked, knowing what would come next.

And then it happened. As soon as the knight opened the cupboard, he had to step aside because it was full of magical bracelets. There were dozens of them, all falling on the floor from the little cupboard.

Both Uther's and Aredian's eyes widened, but that wasn't everything yet. Under the bracelets was so many bottles of Belladonna eye drops, that it almost made you wonder how exactly did it all fit in there.

"These things don't belong to me!" Aredian hurriedly said and went to the cupboard. "This is a trick!" He said as he kicked the bracelets on the floor. Then he started coughing and Merlin reached his hand to tug at Arthur's sleeve. Arthur looked at him and Merlin nodded in Aredian's direction. Arthur frowned a little and looked at the Witchfinder, then he unsheathed his sword.

"The boy plots against me!" Aredian yelled, but the coughing worsened and stopped him. He gripped his chair tight and bowed, coughing violently. Everybody took a step back, and then Aredian's mouth opened.

Something green appeared there and it jumped out of his mouth. It was a toad and it croaked as soon as it touched the floor. Aredian covered his mouth with his hand, stepping back.

"Sorcerer!" Uther said and finally unsheathed his sword, pointing it at Aredian. But the witchfinder quickly took a dagger he had on his belt and pointed it at Arthur. He moved his hand behind his head, apparently wanting to throw it at the prince. Merlin quickly mumbled something under his breath, and a little vase shifted on the floor, right behind Aredian's feet.

He fell over before he managed to throw the dagger and fell out of the window. All they heard was the noise of his body as it hit the ground below.

As soon as it happened, Arthur threw his hands around Merlin and pulled him as close as possible. He completely forgot about his father and the knights around him and even that he wasn't supposed to show his feelings to anyone, even to Merlin. He himself wasn't sure what he was feeling yet, but he had an inkling. And when Merlin returned the hug, smiling from ear to ear, he was almost sure that this was supposed to be their moment because hell, they saved Gaius and he was happy!

"Arthur!" His father said and Arthur immediately snapped back to reality. What the hell just happened?

"Yes, father?" He asked. He shouldn't have hugged Merlin in front of so many people. Even Gwen. Yes, the whole Camelot knew they were close, but Merlin was still just a servant. He just hoped Uther would choose to ignore it, given the circumstances.

"Go, find Morgana and Gaius and bring them back to Camelot." Uther said, and Arthur nodded and sighed in relief. That was until his father looked at Merlin dangerously.

"I will," Arthur hurriedly said so his father looked at him instead of his friend. Then Arthur looked at Merlin and Gwen, and they all left Aredian's former chambers.

"Okay. Merlin?" Arthur turned to his servant, who was still smiling for some unknown reason. "Go prepare the horses, we'll set off immediately." Merlin nodded and ran away, down the stairs to the stables.

"I'll go to Morgana's chambers to prepare it for her return." Gwen smiled at Arthur and he smiled back and nodded. Then she left, and Arthur found himself alone in the hall. He looked after Gwen as she disappeared around the corner and bowed his head. He knew how did he feel about Gwen. He knew he loved her, but had he really a chance with her? He knew she was in love with Lancelot. And even though Lancelot left, it didn't mean he wouldn't come back.

And he knew he felt something for Merlin, too. But was it really... love? Was it stronger than what he felt for Gwen? He knew what he felt when he hugged Merlin a few minutes ago. He really didn't know why it happened, but it felt nice.

When he hugged Merlin... all the problems seemed to disappear. As if Merlin somehow made him feel whole, complete. And he didn't know if he would be able to live like this, without holding Merlin in his arms. One thing he knew for sure. He couldn't stay just friends with him.

What he felt... it was somehow stronger than everything in the world. And he couldn't ignore it anymore, he just couldn't. But should he tell Merlin about this? Should he tell him or wait until he was absolutely sure that what he felt was... romantic? He's never thought about this, but what if it was romantic? How did he feel about... kissing Merlin?

Did it feel alright, or disgusting, or like the best idea in the world? Arthur didn't know. But he knew one thing. He'll have the entire ride back to Morgana and Gaius to think about it, and Merlin will be right next to him. He wouldn't tell him anything about this of course, but he'll be able to think about it.

Arthur shook his head and finally started walking down the hall, to the stables. He knew Merlin would be already waiting for him there, and to be honest, he couldn't wait to see his face again. Even those few minutes without him felt like hours.

As soon as he went to the courtyard, he saw Merlin patting one of the horses. He was smiling, touching the horse's hair and the way the sun shone on Merlin's dark hair, making his eyes sparkle made Arthur shiver.

He cleared his throat and was rewarded with the world's most beautiful smile. He smiled back and went to his servant, unconsciously putting his hand on his shoulder. "Ready?" He asked and Merlin nodded.

"Ready," he answered.

"Then let's go." Arthur smiled and mounted his horse, waiting for Merlin to do the same before he turned towards the gates and urged his horse to move.

They galloped quickly until they were in the forest. Then they slowed down because they knew exactly where Morgana with Gaius were, and they couldn't just return so soon with them when the searching party looked for them since yesterday and found nothing.

The slow ride made Arthur realize how quiet it was out there. He looked at Merlin, the usual source of all pointless talking, and found out the boy was looking at the trees around them and at the sun's rays shining through the leaves, with a smile on his face. Did Merlin really enjoy nature so much?

"You look like an idiot." Arthur commented and looked away. Merlin didn't even look at Arthur as he answered.

"You look much worse, and do I complain? No." He smirked. Arthur laughed.

"Yes, you do, Merlin. You complain all the time, mostly about everything." He said, smiling.

"Okay, then why did you hug me?" He asked, finally looking at Arthur, smirking. Arthur glanced at him.

"So you complain about it?" Arthur asked.

"Um, n-no, I just, no," Merlin stuttered and blushed, making Arthur laughed. He knew this would happen. "Then w-why did you, huh?" Merlin asked again.

Arthur just shrugged. "I didn't." He answered and sped up.

"But- but Arthur!" Merlin sped up too, and rode after Arthur. The prince could be unbelievably annoying sometimes. But that didn't matter. Arthur hugged Merlin and Merlin was glad he did. He loved hugging Arthur, he felt safe in his arms. But he also knew that when Arthur hugged someone, it was very rare. Almost impossible.

And knowing that Merlin was one of those few lucky people (or maybe the only one) who got to know what was hugging Arthur like, made him feel very happy and special.

"Well, at least we saved Gaius." Merlin smiled as he finally rode next to Arthur again. The prince just nodded. "Can you hug me again?" Merlin teased.

"Merlin," Arthur warned, but there was something about the way he said it that made Merlin doubt Arthur was serious. Maybe he wanted another hug, too? "And what about the bracelets, hm?" Arthur asked then.

"Um, as I said. I just made sure our plan was worth it." Merlin answered.

"And the toad?" Arthur laughed. "Honestly that was a step too far, Merlin." He said, but Merlin just laughed.

"I know, I know, but at least it worked!"

"I don't know, Merlin." Arthur said. "If every time we're in danger you solve things like that, I can't believe I'm still alive." He laughed.

"Well, you should believe it." Merlin smiled. "Just... don't die any time soon, okay?" Merlin suddenly changed the expression and everything was more serious. Arthur noticed this just from the tone Merlin used. He looked at the young warlock and frowned slightly.

"Do you... do you really care so much?" Arthur asked. And this time he wanted Merlin to be honest. The warlock looked at Arthur and nodded.

"I do." He answered. And then he went silent.

That made Arthur think about a lot of things. If Merlin truly cared so much about him, was the romantic relationship between them possible? Did Merlin mean all of this just in a friendly way, or did he mean something more?

Arthur shook his head and looked over at Merlin again. He knew that even if Merlin didn't feel the same way, he would never be able to find anyone in this world who would make him feel the same way as Merlin did. Every time he looked at him, the world was brighter and life was happier. And there was no one, not even Gwen, who would be able to replace Merlin and make Arthur feel that way. No one on this whole Earth.

After two hours, they finally made it to the cave. They dismounted and went straight to Morgana and Gaius. They were still inside, both sitting by the fire, talking about something funny, judging by the fact they were both laughing.

"What's so funny?" Merlin asked as he approached them.

"Oh, nothing." Morgana laughed as she looked at Merlin. "Gaius was just telling me about your very tragic magic failures." Morgana said and Merlin turned red as everyone started laughing.

"Gaius!" Merlin hissed. "No one was supposed to know about that!" He complained as Morgana laughed again.

"You never told me it was a secret!" Gaius said. "Besides, Morgana already knows about your magic." He smiled and Merlin rubbed his eyes, looking down, embarrassed.

"Unbelievable." He mumbled.

Arthur smiled and looked at Gaius. "Gaius, good news!" He said. "You and Morgana can both return to Camelot, Aredian's dead." He said.

"That's amazing!" Morgana said and gave Gaius a hug. Then she went over to Merlin and Arthur and hugged them both at the same time, putting her arms around their necks. "Thank you!" She smiled as she purposely made them stand closer to each other.

Then she let them go, smiling at them and at Gaius. Merlin and Arthur stepped away from each other a bit, both clearing their throats at the same time. How many awkward moments will they have to suffer through until they both realize they're supposed to be together? It's two sides of the same coin for a reason, Jesus.

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GO BACK / chapter 6 / chapter 8

0 notes

generallynerdy · 5 years

Text

Our Little Secret Part 13 (Merlin & Child!Reader, Mordred X Reader)

Parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, and 12

Summary: Mordred is dying. Unfortunately, the only person with the potential to save him is the one who hates him most; Merlin.

Key: (Y/N) - your name

Warnings: violence, death, injuries, blood, angst, totally unnecessary depressing shit, on that note there’s probably cursing

Word Count: 2,479

Note: owo angst also CLIFFHANGERS YEET (one more part + an epilogue if someone guesses the amount of title drops in this series (please guess right it’s a fluffy one i swear))

(Y/N) had heard the shink of the axe against his skin and turned, killing the Saxon with a stab to the stomach. It was then that she saw Mordred’s bright eyes, turning back to his own rather than the green they would be under Morgana’s spell, staring up at her with a sort of deadness.

“NO!”

With swift and shaking hands, justice was dealt to the two remaining Saxons. (Y/N) kicked one against a rock, which broke his skull open. The other was knocked unconscious by the hilt of her sword, falling to the ground with a clang.

The instant they were felled, the young woman dropped to the ground beside Mordred, lifting his limp form into her arms.

Nearby, Arthur had yet to move. He had been frozen in place at the young man’s sudden charge, then even during (Y/N)’s retaliation. He took a mere few steps forward, watching the two with grief in his eyes. He looked down at his sword, almost regretting even fighting Mordred. If only he had been watching (Y/N) more carefully. If only he had taken care of her.

A stampede of footsteps began and Arthur was ready to draw his sword until four knights of Camelot rounded the corner.

“My lord--” Leon began, before he noticed the sight.

Percival exhaled sharply. “Christ...Mordred.”

They all remained at a distance, gazing helplessly at the young pair. From where they stood, Mordred looked dead as it was. However, he had yet to go completely.

“Mordred,” (Y/N) whispered, shaking him a little. When he did not respond, she lifted her head and, glancing around frantically, screamed. “MERLIN!”

It was then that the boy spluttered, choking on his own blood. “(Y/N),” he croaked.

At his voice, she snapped her face downward, a slight gasp passing by her lips. “Mordred,” she said again, cradling his head and caressing the side of his face.

She suddenly snapped into action, doing her best to rip his shattered armour off him. She almost dropped his head as she did so, her frantic hands making her entire body shake and quiver.

“MERLIN!” Again, she screamed out, her voice cracking and her throat scratched with the effort. “MERLIN!”

Mordred coughed violently. “I’m sorry,” he sobbed, blood trailing down from his lip.

“Stop, don’t-- don’t be sorry. Don’t--” (Y/N) shook her head, ignoring the tears falling from her eyes.

The young woman reached around herself and grabbed the bottom of her cloak. Most knights removed it before a battle, seeing as it was a hazard, but she had tucked it into her armour instead.

It was her most precious possession: Lancelot’s cloak.

It had multiple patches and mended rips, some in places you think couldn’t possibly be damaged while in a fight or traipsing through the woods. One in particular was on the bottom right corner and the threads were beginning to pull loose. Here, (Y/N) decided to rip the edge of the cloak.

“(Y/N), no,” Mordred wheezed, grabbing her arm to stop her. “You’ll ruin it.”

She chuckled through tears. “It’s already red.” His eyes drooped slightly and she panicked. “Mordred, Modred, stay with me. Stay with me, please. MERLIN!”

“(Y/N), I l--” He started to say feebly. He rose a hand to the base of her head, blood wiping from his hands onto her neck, though she paid it no mind. “I love you.”

A wretched cry came from the girl, even though she had tried to hold it back.

All the knights heard the boy speak and could not hide their emotion. They were fond of him, after all, which made (Y/N)’s reaction all the more painful. Percival was the most obviously hurt of the group, choking back sobs. Gwaine was a close second, sniffing and wiping at his face. Elyan shook where he stood and Leon was frozen, unable to avert his gaze.

They felt like they had failed. They all felt like they failed Mordred and (Y/N).

Arthur, on the other hand, felt the worst. He struck his sword into the ground and took a cautious step forward. “(Y/N), maybe I could--”

He hadn’t made another move before the young woman’s head snapped up to look at him. Her eyes glowed an unnatural yellow and she flung out her hand threateningly.

“Don’t touch him!” She screamed, her voice distorted.

Her gaze was back on Mordred in an instant, but the knights were left silent.

“Was-- was that--?” Elyan whispered.

Arthur looked defeated, destroyed, betrayed. “Magic.”

“Oh, (Y/N),” Mordred muttered through a sob. “Why-- why would you do that? Why did you--?”

She shook her head. “I won’t let you die. I have to do something. There has to be something--”

From there, she tried every spell she knew as blood seeped from the long cut. Her spells lessened the bleeding and began to heal his skin somewhat, but it was an enormous gash and she feared it wasn’t enough. (Y/N) had almost given up when footsteps sounded and she looked up.

Before her was an old man in red robes, using a staff to walk. (Y/N) recognised him in an instant.

“Please,” she begged with a raspy voice. “You have to save him.”

He looked down at her with doubt in his bright eyes, glancing between the two of them and the other knights, who all looked appalled. The sorcerer had a sinking feeling.

“He saved me!” (Y/N) sobbed. “He broke the spell and he saved me, Merlin, please!”

Merlin inhaled deeply and, after a moment of consideration, knelt beside the two. (Y/N) almost cried more in relief, but not all was well just yet.

He took one look at Mordred’s wound and grimaced.

“What?” (Y/N) asked frantically. “What is it?”

“None of the spells I know can heal a wound like this,” he muttered.

Her face fell. “No, no, you have to do something. There has to be something you can do, anything--”

“There’s one,” Merlin interrupted, “But I need a live volunteer.”

“I’ll do it.”

She was met with instant protests from a drowsy Mordred and a firm Merlin. “No, no, no,” Mordred slurred. “Please--”

“I won’t do that,” Merlin said. “I refuse.”

“But--” (Y/N) started to protest.

A minor groan from nearby interrupted their argument. Both Merlin and (Y/N) followed the source of it to the Saxon the latter had felled with the hilt of her sword.

Merlin looked back at her with a nod. “That’ll do.”

Within a moment, the Saxon was laid beside Mordred. Both sorcerer and apprentice placed their hands on Mordred’s wound and the Saxon’s side. Merlin went to give her instructions, but paused, looking behind her and meeting Arthur’s eyes.

“This would have a better chance of working if I wasn’t disguised,” Merlin whispered.

Before (Y/N) could speak, Mordred shook his head. “Don’t-- you can’t do this for me, Merlin.”

“I said your name,” (Y/N) muttered. “They’ll be suspicious. And they-- they know I can do magic. They’ll want to know who taught me. They’ll put two and two together.”

Merlin sighed and, taking out a small blue vial, nodded at her before glancing at Arthur. “Here goes nothing.”

He chugged it all in one go. Within minutes, he was the younger, good-looking version of himself. The knights whispered among themselves and one tried to get Arthur’s attention, but it could not be drawn from the sorcerer. If his face showed hurt at (Y/N)’s reveal, this one was devastated.

Merlin instructed (Y/N) to repeat after him and the area was bathed in light when they began to chant. The Saxon cried out in pain, but was drowned out by a distinctly magical ringing filling the air.

When the deed was done, the light died out and the Saxon was left limp on the ground. Mordred was passed out and (Y/N)’s heart sank at the sight.

“He’ll wake in a few hours,” Merlin reassured her.

She flung herself at him, wrapping him in a hug and sniffing into his shoulder. “Thank you. I-- about before--”

“Water under the bridge. We’ll talk about it later,” he whispered, hugging her tightly. When he let go, he looked toward Mordred. “We should get him to Gaius, just to be safe.”

(Y/N) nodded and they situated themselves, ready to attempt to pick him up. Between the two of them, the young woman was stronger than her companion, at least physically. They feared they couldn’t lift Mordred safely and comfortably. However, they didn’t have to fret for very long.

There were gentle thuds against the mud of Camlann and (Y/N) almost leapt to her feet, ready to fight off Saxons. Instead, Leon, with his red eyes and cheeks, knelt on the ground beside them.

No words were spoken at first, but he nodded at (Y/N), who looked upon him with such respect and relief that she looked like a child again.

The knight lifted Mordred from the ground. “Lead the way,” he said.

(Y/N) went to leave, but turned back to Merlin. She glanced between him and the other knights, not to mention Arthur, though she did not meet their gazes fully.

“I’ll be fine,” Merlin said, reading her mind.

For the first time in a long time, (Y/N) gave him a soft smile and squeezed his hand hopefully. Then, she left with Leon and Mordred, leaving Merlin to finally share their little secret.

Arthur cleared his throat and turned to the three knights left behind. “Morgana must be found. I need you to--”

“Morgana’s dead,” Merlin said loudly. He was met with a doubtful look from Arthur and pointed down a path. “Down that way. I killed her myself. You can check, if you want.”

Arthur nodded to the three, two of whom left. Percival and Elyan dutifully took to the task, not able to look at Merlin as they passed. Gwaine was left staring at Merlin, which made him uncomfortable. He couldn’t tell if he was in awe or anger. Either way, he decided that he didn’t like it.

“Gwaine,” Arthur said firmly. The knight snapped out of his trance and frowned. “Go,” the king muttered.

With one last mournful glance, Gwaine followed Percival and Elyan.

Thus, the king and the servant were left alone.

Merlin opened his mouth to speak, but Arthur could not bear to hear it. He turned away and followed after the others. For all that had happened that day, he could not bear to look at Merlin, his friend and servant.

The second his back was turned, Merlin grieved.

Back at camp, (Y/N) strode ahead of Leon and Mordred to get to Gaius. She wasn’t that far ahead, as she still wanted to keep an eye on them, but she was at least a yard in front of the two.

The young woman was terrified of conversation with Leon. He would no doubt question her about her magic and that was something she wasn’t ready to talk about, not without Merlin there to help her.

Inside the medic’s tent, (Y/N) found Gaius running around, frantically doing all he could for wounded soldiers.

“Gaius!” She called, getting his attention.

He turned and heaved a sigh of relief. She rushed into his arms and was embraced in a tight hug, which occurred just as Leon entered with Mordred. The old man pet her hair and whispered words of gratefulness at her sudden appearance.

“I thought you’d died,” he sighed as he pulled back, holding her head in his hands.

She shook her head, a small smile painting her face. “No, I’m okay.” She glanced toward Leon, who was putting Mordred on an empty cot.

“What happened?” Gaius asked. “Is he--?”

“He’s alright. He broke free of the spell and saved me,” (Y/N) said softly. “Merlin and I were able to heal him, but…”

He nodded instantly. “Better check just to be sure.” He then noticed Leon’s glances in their direction. “You-- you healed him, you said?”

“They know, Gaius,” she whispered. “About Merlin and I. They’ll probably hate me now.”

“I see,” he muttered before patting her cheek fondly. “You’ll be fine, both of you, no matter what happens. I’ll go check on Mordred, you get some rest.”

(Y/N) nodded absentmindedly as he left, though she had no intention of following his orders. She was far too stressed to do as he asked. She didn’t want to abandon Merlin, either, should the others want him to explain himself.

Just as she was considering what they would want to know, someone called her name.

“(Y/N)! Thank God!” A voice exclaimed.

Guinevere appeared, racing to the young woman’s side and pulling her into her arms. (Y/N) froze at the contact. For a second, she hugged the woman back, relief filling her heart, before she was struck with regret. Gwen did not know her secret. The (Y/N) she was hugging was not a sorceress. The (Y/N) she thought she was hugging wasn’t the real (Y/N).

“I thought we’d lost you,” Gwen sighed, taking the girl’s head in her hands, much like Gaius had. She noticed her forlorn expression and instinctively frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“I--” (Y/N) put her hands on Gwen’s, which rested on her neck.

Arthur appeared at the tent entrance just prior to this very moment, having witnessed Guinevere’s affection for a mere second before he saw the doubt in (Y/N)’s eyes. He didn’t make a noise, but (Y/N) noticed he was there. She looked over to him, then back to Guinevere.

The young knight pulled Gwen’s hands from her face and bowed her head slightly. “My lady.”

Gwen was about to ask after her, but she strode toward the very entrance Arthur stood. She nodded at him, prepared to walk by him in complete silence. He was about to let her do so, but was surprised when she stopped right beside him on her way out.

“Arthur--” she began to say.

What words could she say that would fix this? Would the truth help him to understand or would it only hurt him more? Would she apologise for who she was, what she chose to do? Should she say what felt right to her or right to him? Furthermore, would either help?

Glancing out of the tent, she saw Merlin, stopped in his tracks. He watched her with curious eyes, wondering what she would do. He did not shake or nod his head, nor did he give any other hint as to what she should do. It was her decision what to say, not his. After all, it was her little secret, too.

(Y/N) swallowed, paused, and exited the tent without another word.

Merlin Tags: @pearlll09

Part 14/Finale

Masterlist

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cupcakezys · 5 years

Text

Accusations.

First. Previous.

Read on AO3.

Pairing: Merlin/Arthur.

Summary: Uther wasn’t sure what to think when a sorceress interrupted the feast by flinging the hall doors open so hard they almost flew of their hinges. He was, of course, annoyed and angry at the interruption, even more so when he saw the crazed old woman glaring at him with golden eyes. He was also perhaps a little bit afraid when she wailed and ran at him, moving faster than should be possible with a jagged dagger in her hands. Most of all, however, he was shocked and furious when, upon being caught by the knights standing close to his side, the sorceress turned to his son and screamed, for the whole room to hear. “You! You traitor, traitor to your own kind, your kin! How dare you sit here next to this murderer, when the blood of the wolf pumps through your veins!”

Shock rippled around the room, and Uther felt himself flush with anger as the whisper went up, all eyes on Arthur. On his son, their Crown Prince.

Werewolf.

Uther glared at them, then at the old woman, limp now in in his knights’ grip. He motioned for them to take her away, fury bubbling deep inside him. How dare this wench threaten him, try to kill him, and then accuse his son of something so outlandish. He turned to Arthur, fully expecting to see his anger mirrored in his eyes.

But Arthur. Arthur was gripping his right arm, the arm Uther knew had been mauled by a wild dog years ago on some patrol, while looking panicked and pale. He paused. Had it been a wild dog bite at all? Or… had it been something else entirely? He didn’t want to even consider it, but Arthur was hardly concealing his distress at the accusations.

He came to a decision. “The feast is over for the night. Everyone is to leave, immediately.” His people nodded and bowed, making their way towards the doors. He nodded to the servants and guards, a clear signal for them to leave as well. Arthur made to stand up, but Uther put a hand on his shoulder. “Not you Arthur. I’d like to speak to you in private.”

Arthur gulped, looking nothing short of completely terrified. Uther caught Morgana sending Arthur a look, one full of concern and questions, even as she stood and made her way from the room. There was only one that wasn’t moving, one that had made his way closer to Arthur and was glancing between him and Uther nervously.

“That means you too boy.” Uther snapped. “Out.”

Merlin dropped his eyes to the ground, for once looking like an actual servant, but didn’t actually move until Arthur stood up and pushed him towards the door with a quiet. “Go.”

He shot one more worried glance at Arthur, stared Uther in the eyes for a brief moment, and then bowed his head and walked out of the room. The doors boomed shut behind him.

Arthur was silent, looking down at his shoes, something Uther hadn’t seen him do since he was a small child.

Uther sighed and turned around, not looking at his son when he asked. “Why would she accuse you of something so outlandish?”

He heard Arthur’s sharp intake of breath, knew he had stepped forward. “Father-“

Uther turned back to him. He’d never seen Arthur look so afraid. He reached out and gripped Arthur’s arm, ignoring the flinch, and pulled his sleeve up so he could see the scar there. It was a long, jagged line, unidentifiable and long healed.

“I remember the night you got this.” He said quietly.

Arthur looked at him in surprise. “You do?”

Of course he did. It was one of the few times that Uther was forcibly reminded of his sons’ mortality. “Gaius thought you’d loose your arm at best, your life at worst.”

Arthur nodded, staring at his scar. Uther tightened his grip on Arthur’s arm. Steeled himself.

“It wasn’t a wild dog, was it?” Arthur tensed further, opening and closing his mouth without saying anything. Uther growled. “Don’t lie to me.”

Arthur shook in his grasp, refusing to meet his eyes. Uther saw him glance at his hip, where his sword would be if he were carrying it. That one look sent something like shame stab at his heart. He didn’t want his son to ever fear him.

“No.” Arthur whispered, voice shaking. “No, it wasn’t a dog.”

Uther gripped his shoulders, trying and failing to make Arthur meet his gaze. “It’s been years since then Arthur. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Arthur gulped, nervous and determined all at once, looking so like his mother it hurt. “The law is clear.”

Uther remembered then, vividly, each and every time he’d executed a werewolf, Arthur at his side. He remembered every speech, every rant, all the times he had warned Arthur of the corrupt evil of magic and magical creatures, especially werewolves.

He didn’t feel guilt often, didn’t allow himself to, but this, this guilt he felt keenly.

“You are my son, Arthur.” Uther said, trying to put as much apology into the words as he could. “I’ve told you before, you are more precious to me than any other in this world. Nothing can change that.”

“Not even this?” Arthur asked, gripping his arm over the scar.

“No.” Uther said, because it was the truth. He loved his son, this small piece of Igraine that Uther had managed to keep. He refused to lose that, to lose him. “No, Arthur, not even this.”

For a moment, Uther thought he might cry. He hadn’t seen Arthur cry since he was very small, and, quite honestly, he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to react. Comforting people had never been his strong point, but it was easy to comfort young children with a small treat or distraction, something he doubted would work on Arthur now.

Thankfully, his son swallowed back his tears, and instead a fierce sort of determination filled his eyes. “The law cannot be different just for me Father. It can’t.”

Uther sighed, felt the crown on his head grow heavy. “Arthur.”

“No!” Arthur broke away from him, backed up a step. “It’s not fair, not just! I cannot sit comfortably knowing I’m above the law while others like me die.”

Uther swallowed, hard. There were some things he had hoped to keep from his son. He didn’t want him knowing the horrors of the times before his birth, the things that Uther had seen and done in equal measure. Now, though, it may be the only thing that could convince Arthur of the necessity of the law, even if it made an exception with him.

“Sit down Arthur.” Uther gestured to his chair, then sat himself. “There are things you much know. Things I was hoping I would never have to tell you.”

Arthur sat, albeit hesitantly.

“In the years I ruled before you were born, Camelot was full of war, and horror, and death. Our biggest threat was magic.” He began. Arthur had heard this, was impatiently shifting in his seat, but he didn’t interrupt. “Even before magic had been banned, there were some unhappy with my rule. Every full moon, a large group of werewolves and sorcerers would attack Camelot, or the surrounding villages. People were dying, and I had to do something.”

“Is that why you kill them?” Arthur asked, quiet and subdued. “Why you banned magic?”

Uther inclined his head. “Partly.” Arthur was silent, so Uther continued. “Magic is evil, son. It corrupts, even those that started out using it with the best intentions. I’ve seen it happen too many times. It turns people into thieves and liars, makes them crave power that is not theirs to hold.”

Uther remembered all too well the way dark magic ran rampant in his youth. How sorcerers used their magic to deceive and kill. To hurt those that were dear to him.

He would never forget Nimueh and her deception.

Arthur had begun to frown as he spoke, a thoughtful look on his face. “Surely there would be some that weren’t… corrupted. That resisted using magic for evil?”

Arthur was hesitant, but such thoughts at all were dangerous. “If there were, and I do not believe there are, we could not risk leaving them be.” Arthur looked up, eyes sharp and angry, so Uther quickly said. “How would we know if they truly were free of corruption? How could we be sure they weren’t simply lying, waiting for the perfect time to strike?” He shook his head. “We cannot afford to trust people on their word Arthur, especially not these people. It will only end in heartbreak. They must be eradicated, until magic is nothing more than a faint nightmare. Only then will we be safe.”

Arthur worked his jaw, clearly wanting to say something. Eventually, he spat out. “And me? What does any of this have to do with sparing me? All you’ve said is just proving you should follow the law and kill me.”

“No, Arthur, don’t you see?” Uther leaned forward, trying to make his son see. See that he wasn’t the same as them, see that Uther trusted him despite this. “You are my son, and I trust you. You aren’t like others – you are strong, you wont allow yourself to be corrupted. You did not choose this.”

“Neither did most other werewolves!” Arthur yelled, and Uther winced because, well, he had been trying to avoid actually naming Arthur as such. “What of the others like me, the ones that were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, that were bitten and changed against their will? You kill them all the same!”

“Because they cannot be trusted!” Uther yelled back, his temper flaring. “I will not allow them the freedom to run around and wreak havoc on my kingdom. I cannot allow any more innocent people to die because of something I could have prevented!”

“So you would just kill them all, including the innocent, rather than just those found guilty?”

Uther heart hardened. “It is a sacrifice that must be made.”

Arthur stared at him, fury and hurt radiating off him in waves. He stood up abruptly and stalked away towards the doors. Uther sat and watched him go, surprise freezing him for a moment.

He shook it off, stood, and yelled. “Arthur!”

His son ignored him. Uther thought about letting it go for a moment, thought about giving them both the chance to calm down, but this was something he needed Arthur to understand. He was too kindhearted, too dedicated to saving everyone, too much like his mother, damnit, and one day it would get him killed. Uther would rather see his kingdom fall, would rather throw himself on his own blade before he let that happen. Arthur needed to understand.

Sometimes you couldn’t save everyone, and sometimes people had to be sacrificed for the greater good.

Uther stood and chased after Arthur.

Besides that, Uther was already planning on ways to try and find a cure. He was, of course, aware that no existing medicine could cure a werewolf bite. He knew no magic could undo this curse, knew that it was something many had tried and failed to do in the past. But he was King Uther Pendragon, and he knew his stubbornness and determination had helped him achieved the impossible in the past. It was how he had won his crown, how he ruled and almost eradicated the threat of magic in his kingdom. It was how he kept the peace.

He stopped outside Arthur’s door. He went to open it and hesitated. It was slightly ajar, and Uther could hear the quiet voices of his son and manservant inside. He narrowed his eyes and pressed his head against the door, trying to spot the two young men.

He found them standing by the fire. Merlin had his arms wrapped around Arthur in a lover’s embrace, while his son shook and clung to the servant like he was about to fly apart. He was torn between storming in, chastising Arthur for showing his emotions, for leaving himself vulnerable and open to hurt, and stepping back and leaving them to heir moment, a moment he knew was more than that of a prince and his manservant, or even a prince and his bedwarmer.

His indecision left him standing awkwardly at the door.

“He didn’t kill you” Merlin said, startling him.

It didn’t take much to figure out they were speaking him about him. Somehow, Uther wasn’t at all surprised that the boy had already known Arthur’s secret.

“No.” Arthur mumbled back, face hidden in one of those atrocious neckerchiefs the boy was so fond of.

“And he isn’t going to kill you.”

“No.”

Merlin smiled thinly and ran a hand through Arthur’s hair. “You didn’t think he would.”

Uther was horrified to hear his son sob. “I did, for a moment.” Silence, then. “You thought he might.”

Merlin frowned, hand still playing idly with Arthur’s hair. “I was worried. Can you blame me?”

“No.” Arthur finally moved his face, tilted it so he was staring at Merlin’s neck. “What are we going to do now?”

“Now?” Merlin grinned, pressed his lips to Arthur’s in a quick kiss. Uther raised his eyebrows. “Now, I’m going to get all your favourite foods, draw you a nice hot bath and get you into your frankly huge bed.”

Arthur chuckled weakly. “I’m the prince Merlin.”

“And that means you get a bed bigger than my room?” Merlin asked, all cheek.

Arthur laughed, small and fragile but there. “My bed is not bigger than your room.”

“How would you know?” Merlin grinned. “You’ve been in my room, what, twice?”

“And you’ve been in my bed, what, a hundred times?” Arthur mocked, grinning himself now.

Merlin laughed and pushed Arthur away slightly, just far enough to look Arthur in the eyes. “Hardly, your highness. Now, shall I go acquire your dinner?”

“Our dinner.” Arthur corrected, pulling back until only their hands were touching, fingers intertwined. “Stay with me tonight?”

Uther had never seen Arthur looked so nervous, so vulnerable. He had been taught how to hide his emotions from a young age, and even Uther was only privy to Arthur’s genuine emotions on rare occasions. To see it shown here, so freely, made Uther ache. He remembered a time when he had someone to be that vulnerable around, to let the king fade away and leave only the man behind.

“Of course.” Merlin said, guiding Arthur to a chair by the fire. He pressed another quick kiss to his lips. “I won’t be long.”

Uther moved back as Merlin approached the door. He allowed himself to melt into the stone of the castle wall, a small nearby nook hiding him almost completely. The servant didn’t even glance in his direction, so intent on his task.

Something, Uther didn’t know what, compelled him to step forward.

Merlin had gotten only a few steps from the door when Uther reached him. “Boy.”

The servant jumped and turned, almost tripping over his own feet. Uther had no idea what his son saw in him. “Your-your majesty!”

Uther stared, face void of emotion as the Merlin stared back. “You knew.” The boy stuttered, trying to deny it even as he pretended to have no idea what Uther was talking about. “Enough!” Uther interrupted, keeping his voice low so Arthur didn’t hear. “Do not dare lie to your king.”

Merlin swallowed, nodded. “Yes sire.” Uther stared, unimpressed. Merlin glanced down. “That is- yes, yes I already knew.”

Uther nodded. “For how long.”

“Um.” Merlin looked back up at him, considering. “Five months?”

Five months. Arthur has told this servant, whom he hadn’t even known for a year, his secret five months ago, when he hadn’t dared tell his own father after three years. Uther felt horrible, and a little jealous. What made this boy, this servant, so special, so trustworthy? What did Arthur see in him?

Uther stepped closer, eyes hard, as much a father as he was the king. “I don’t think I need to tell you that if you were ever to use this information to hurt Arthur or Camelot, you would be executed before you could even regret your treachery.”

Determination, fierce and hot as fire, flashed in his eyes. “I would never do anything to hurt Arthur.”

And Uther knew he meant it. And suddenly, he knew exactly what Arthur saw in Merlin. He wore his emotions openly, happily, for all to see. From there, it was easy to see Merlin’s dedication, his loyalty, his love. There was no faking those emotions. Uther knew that well.

“Good.” Uther nodded, stepped back. Merlin looked at him, waiting to be dismissed, even as he bounced impatiently on the balls of his feet. “You may go.”

Merlin bowed his head, just barely respectful, and turned to go. Uther hesitated.

“Merlin.” The servant turned back. Uther nodded to him. “Thank you for looking after him.”

Merlin’s face slackened in surprise, before a small, almost knowing smile grew on his face. Uther had thought he was too simple to really know how significant those words were, but he was beginning to understand that Merlin was much more than he seemed. Arthur’s trust and, yes, his love, were proof enough of that.

“Of course sire.” Merlin said seriously. “It is my duty.”

To the one I love went unsaid, but Uther heard it, knew the exact sentiment in his very soul.

He nodded to himself, and went to his rooms. He could talk to Arthur again tomorrow. He would be well looked after tonight.

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Here's the next part!

#merlin #bbc merlin #merthur #merlin/arthur #werewolf au #werewolf Arthur pendragon #Arthur knows about merlins magic #we are not monsters #my writing #cakeswriting

4 notes · View notes

cupcakezys · 5 years

Text

Surprise.

A short little fluffy something for you all. :)

First. Previous.

Read on AO3.

Pairing: Merlin/Arthur.

Summary: Merlin was acting suspicious. He had been for almost three days now, and Arthur was determined to find out what exactly he was up to. Fortunately, he was the Crown Prince, and as such he could get whatever he asked for, including information. Unfortunately, no one seemed to know what Merlin was doing. Arthur, naturally, thought them all a bunch of liars. Especially Morgana.

“If you’re that curious, why don’t you just ask him yourself?” Morgana asked, clearly exasperated.

Arthur sighed and flopped down onto a nearby chair. “He won’t tell me, that’s why! I threatened him with the stocks earlier, and he just laughed at me. Laughed!”

Morgana snorted and moved from where she was fixing up her hair in her mirror. “That’s because he knows you don’t mean it.” She sat across from him and tapped the table with her fingernails. “You haven’t put him in the stocks for months Arthur. Even I know it’s an empty threat.”

Arthur glared at her. “Shut up.”

“If you’re just going to whine, then you can do it in your own room.” Morgana said. “I’m not telling you anything.”

Arthur sat up quickly. “So you do know something!”

Morgana rolled her eyes. “Of course I do. I know everything.”

“Like Gaius.” Arthur mumbled. Then, louder. “Alright, name your price.”

She laughed. “My price?”

“For information.” Arthur sighed. “Considering no one else seems to know anything.”

Morgana shook her head. “Oh my dear Arthur. I already told you. I’m not telling you anything.”

Arthur groaned. “You’re evil.”

Morgana laughed, evilly, proving his point. Arthur slumped down in the chair and dropped his head to the table. He sighed. Merlin had been avoiding him all day. He’d hurried Arthur out of bed, dressed him before he’d even properly woken up, and then disappeared out the door without a backward glance. By the time Arthur was awake enough to search for him, he had already left the citadel.

“Arthur?”

Arthur looked up instantly. Morgana almost never sounded that scared. Worry bloomed, hot and fast.

She was looking down at the table intensely, refusing to meet his eyes. “I just- I wanted to ask you something.” Her eyes flickered up for a second before dropping back down. “About Ealdor.”

Arthur automatically tensed, weary. “What about it?”

She did look at him then, confusion mixed with something that looked suspiciously like hope. “Will.”

Arthur flinched, though he knew it was coming. “Will.”

“He has magic.” Morgana whispered, though they were alone, and the door was shut. “He has magic and you- you didn’t do anything!”

He clenched his jaw hard. “I thought you were of the opinion that sorcerers should be judged by their actions, not simply for having magic.”

“I am.” She insisted. “And you have no idea how reassuring it was to find a sorcerer that proved not all magic is evil- but that’s not the point!” She shook her head, started tapping the table again. “You’ve never seen magic as anything but evil.”

Arthur glanced at the door, though he knew it was still shut. “Just because I am not as verbal about my views does not mean they are so different from yours.”

Morgana eyes practically shone. “Is that so?”

“Yes.” Arthur leaned back and smiled a little. “You were not the only one proven right in Ealdor.”

A lie. Arthur had been proven wrong long before that – been shown magic was not evil but beautiful and warm and loving – but that was something he could not say. He would not reveal Merlin’s secret, not even to Morgana, whom he trusted more than anyone else on the subject of magic, because it was not his secret to tell. And as for the secret that was his to tell, well. That might be a bit much for today. For both of them.

Arthur cleared his throat. “Well, I think I’d better be going. I have a wayward servant to find.”

Morgana blinked and glanced out the window. “Yes.” She grinned. “I think I’ve waylaid you for long enough.”

Arthur frowned. “What?”

Morgana stood and pushed him towards the door. Arthur let her, more out of confusion than anything. She shoved him out the door and leaned against the frame, a self-satisfied smile on her face. Evidently, Arthur’s revaluation hadn’t surprised her for long.

“Merlin should be waiting for you in the stables.” She glanced down his body, stopping at his boots. “Perhaps you should change into something better. And warmer. I imagine you’ll be gone for a few hours.”

And then she slammed the door in his face.

“What the hell.” Arthur asked the door.

The door, thankfully, didn’t respond. Morgana, however, did, her badly suppressed giggles following him down the hall.

Arthur reached his room and immediately went to stand in front of the mirror. He frowned. He didn’t see anything wrong with his clothes. His breeches were the same ones he always wore, and granted, his red tunic was a little loose and worn, but it looked fine. He stared at his reflection.

He looked fine, didn’t he?

He cursed to himself and roughly pulled his tunic off. He threw it over his shoulder and dived for his wardrobe, searching for something better.

“Better. Ha.” He mumbled to himself, flinging his leather hunting jacket out of the way. “What does that even mean? I’m the prince, all my clothes are better.”

He rummaged for several more minutes, muttering unpleasantries about a certain meddling woman, until he found what he was looking for. A relieved cry and grumbled “finally” filled the silence of his room.

He pulled on his white tunic – the one he used only for special occasions, surely that was better enough – and a pair of less scruffy-looking riding breeches. He hesitated a moment, then threw on his red jacket – the one with the studs, his favourite - just for good measure. There. That was undeniably better.

He snorted at his reflection. “You’re being ridiculous. A bigger fool than Merlin.”

It didn’t stop him from quickly combing through his hair, trying to right the mess he had made it into while he was changing. He gave himself a final once-over, and then he nodded and made his way out of his chambers.

The stables weren’t far, but by the time he reached them he was already wondering why he had felt the need to dress up so much. It was just Merlin. Even if they had only been courting for two weeks, and Arthur still wasn’t completely sure how he was supposed to court his manservant-turned-warlock-turned-lover, that didn’t mean he had to start getting all nervous like a girl.

He straightened his shoulders and walked into the stables.

Merlin was facing away from him, murmuring something to the horses. Arthur stood in the doorway, just watching. He did that a lot, where Merlin was concerned. It made something warm bubble up in his chest, just seeing Merlin doing something completely ordinary. Then Llamrei nickered at him in greeting, making Merlin turn, and Arthur had to pretend he hadn’t been staring for the past few minutes.

“So.” He said, before Merlin could do more than smile. “Am I finally going to find out what it is you’ve been hiding from me?”

Merlin’s smile was coy, and more than a little self-satisfied. “Maybe.”

“And are you always going to employ the help of Morgana when you need to sneak about?”

“I might.” Merlin said, giving him a once-over. Arthur tried not to feel self-conscious at his over-the-top outfit. “Did she pick this out?” His voice dropped to a whisper. “You look amazing.”

Arthur flushed, suddenly pleased. “She suggested I wear something… better. And warmer.” He raised his eyebrows. “Apparently we’ll be gone for a few hours.”

Merlin hummed, reaching out to straighten his jacket slightly. “Yes. I informed your father you wanted to go on a hunt, just for the afternoon. He approved, said something about Cook requesting more venison.”

“Well then.” Arthur murmured, running his hands up Merlin’s arms until he reached where Merlin’s hands rested on his jacket. “What Cook wants, she must receive.”

Merlin swallowed and stepped away, ears pink. “Yes. Well. That’s what I thought.”

Arthur grinned and boldly stepped forward, placing a hand at the small of Merlin’s back. “Should we head out then, while it’s still light out?”

Red bloomed down Merlin’s neck, and he nodded silently. Arthur grinned. He’d gotten better at this over the weeks, mastering what made Merlin blush and what made him simply roll his eyes in fond exasperation. Never where anyone else could see, Arthur was still very aware of exactly who he was and what could happen to any that he cared for, but Merlin never seemed to mind, and Arthur made up for it plenty when they were alone.

They rode out without another word, Llamrei ready and eager to get going. Toscano followed close behind her, just as eager for their ride. Arthur saw the bags attached to his saddle, stuffed full to overflowing, and wondered again what Merlin had planned. He very much doubted it was something as simple as a mere hunting trip. Not with all the secrecy.

Arthur lasted all of ten minutes before he caved, turning in his saddle to Merlin. “Okay, where are we going?”

Merlin grinned and spurred Toscano forward, passing Arthur and taking the lead. “You’ll see.”

Arthur groaned, but urged Llamrei to follow behind him.

It took them almost an hour to reach wherever it was Merlin was leading them. He’d asked again, after half an hour of riding, exactly where it was they were going, but Merlin had just laughed and called it a surprise. Arthur had grunted and let Merlin’s babble wash over him. He hated surprises.

When Merlin finally announced they had arrived, Arthur had to wonder what exactly was supposed to be here. It looked like any other part of the forest to him, surrounded by trees and bushes. The only notable difference was a rock wall covered in vines in front of them. Arthur studied it, unimpressed.

“And where, exactly, is here, Merlin?” He drawled.

Merlin grinned and dismounted. “Just- hang on a moment.”

He grabbed Toscano’s reins and tugged on Llamrei’s until Arthur surrendered them to him. He tied both horses to a tree nearby, practically vibrating with excitement. Arthur dismounted as Merlin gathered all the bags into his arms, almost dropping them in his haste.

“Give me one of those before you fall over.” Arthur said.

“No!” Merlin squawked. “Just stay there. And close your eyes!”

Arthur groaned. “Merlin.”

“Arthur.” Merlin mimicked, then met his eyes around his burden. “Please?”

Arthur groaned again, but he was helpless to resist that look. He obediently closed his eyes, feeling silly as Merlin huffed and grunted around him. It was when he started walking away that Arthur tensed in not-quite-panic.

“Merlin?” He called. “Where are you going?”

“You’ll see in a minute.” Merlin called, getting further away. A curse, as he probably tripped on something, and then louder. “Just do as your told and wait there until I get back. I’ll just be a minute.”

“What are you doing?” Arthur asked, and would deny the whine in his tone until the end of time.

Merlin laughed. “I’m setting everything up! Now shut up before I give anything away.”

Arthur grumbled but fell silent, though he was still tensed. Everything in him told him to open his eyes, to watch his back for any enemies that could be creeping up on him, but he forced himself to stay as he was. Merlin would not put him in any danger. He’d probably put a spell over the entire area, keeping everyone away. It was something he’d taken to doing whenever Arthur found him alone somewhere in the castle and Merlin had asked him for a hug, or a kiss. The spell made it easy for Arthur to oblige each time.

“Alright!” Merlin called, and then he was making his way back to Arthur, loud as always. “It’s ready.” Arthur went to open his eyes, but Merlin slapped a hand over them before he’d even opened them halfway. “Keep your eyes shut!”

“How am I supposed to see where I’m going?” Arthur grumbled.

“I’ll guide you.”

“Right.” Arthur said. “If I fall, you’re fired.”

Merlin laughed and took his outstretched hand, his other hand going to Arthur’s waist. “Of course sire. Come on.”

Arthur would never admit it, but being led somewhere with his eyes shut was terrifying. Every step was a possible tumble, even with Merlin holding him so tightly, and Arthur did not fancy ending up with his face in the dirt. Still, he pushed through it, not wanting to ruin the surprise and disappoint Merlin.

“Okay.” Merlin said eventually, when they’d walk far enough that the delicate sounds of a small river had drowned out the snorting of their horses. “You can open your eyes now.”

Arthur hesitated, then slowly blinked his eyes open. Sunlight shone on his face, making him squint before he could even see anything. When he could see, all he could do was gasp and stare.

The first thing he noticed was the walls. They were completely surrounded by stone walls, as if they were in the middle of a great cave. That illusion was broken, however, by the sunlight streaming down on them. He studied where the wall of stone ended, and wondered. It looked awfully like someone had blown the rest of the stone away, so there was no roof on the cave. But that wasn’t what took his breath away.

Covering every inch of the cave-turned-paradise was a lush expanse of greenery. Flowers bloomed in the sunlight, reds and blues and purples growing in clusters. Soft grass covered every inch of the not-cave, and small shrubberies grew along the stone walls, vines creeping up behind them. A small stream of water trickled by his feet, the source of the sound of water. A blanket was spread out next to it, covered in all of Arthur’s favourite foods.

He turned to Merlin.

“Merlin- wha- how?” He gaped. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

Merlin grinned, pleased with himself. “Well, the place was already huge when I found it. I just had to open up the top bit and encourage the plants to grow. The real challenge was getting the water to flow properly, but I managed to connect it up to a river nearby and it seems to work fine now.”

Arthur just stared at him, coming to terms with the fact that Merlin had made an entire little paradise, and that he hadn’t even found it difficult. Arthur was struck, again, with how powerful Merlin truly was. His magic was more than a weapon, more than a tool – it was beautiful and loving and everything that Merlin himself was.

Arthur could do nothing but stare as his lover rambled on about the water and how he had created this place, this wonderful, breathtaking place. He stepped forward, helplessly drawn to his warlock, his Merlin. He raised a hand to Merlin’s cheek, cutting off his voice. Merlin leaned into the touch, even as he cocked his head in question. Arthur said nothing, just stared for a moment longer before bringing his lips up to touch Merlin’s.

Merlin kissed him back, though Arthur could almost taste his confusion. It made him laugh into the kiss and pull away, Merlin looking more confused than ever. His laughter died down to chuckles as he rested his forehead against Merlin’s.

“You’re amazing.” He told him.

Merlin smiled, the tips of his ears going red. “Come on, clotpole. The food’s getting cold.”

Arthur grinned and let Merlin pull him towards the picnic basket. Arthur dove for the food right away, starving after a certain someone had disappeared before he could serve him breakfast. Merlin chatted enough for the both of them anyway, filling Arthur in on all the castle gossip. And, well, if once the food was gone and Merlin had run out of gossip Arthur decided there were better things to do than talking, that was a secret entirely their own, hidden away in paradise.

Arthur realized he had lied, before. He loved surprises.

But only if a certain warlock was the one surprising him.

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#merlin #bbc merlin #merthur #merlin/arthur #werewolf au #werewolf Arthur pendragon #Arthur knows about merlins magic #we are not monsters #my writing #cakeswriting

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cupcakezys · 5 years

Text

Four Days To Fall In Love

I recently fell back into the Merlin fandom, and this is a little something I've been working on ever since, so I hope you enjoy! A soulmate au, but with a little twist. Inspired by Strike of Lightning by helloearthlings.

Part One of Four. Next.

Read on AO3.

Pairings: Merlin/Arthur, Gwen/Morgana.

Summary: In a world where everyone has a soulmate (or two or three), Arthur Pendragon knows he is destined to be alone. For Arthur can see his heartstring, could follow it to where his soulmate lived, and that could only mean one thing. His soulmate had magic, and should they ever meet, Arthur would have to kill them.

Red

When Arthur was three, he learned what a secret was. He’d been waving his hands in the air as his nursemaid cleaned his chambers, following the red string that wrapped once around his wrist before disappearing out the window. It danced on an imaginary breeze as he watched, loose and free in the morning light.

“And what are you doing over there, my prince?” His nursemaid had asked.

“I’m watching the string.” He’d answered, then gave her funny look because wasn’t it obvious?

“What string?” She’d asked, and Arthur hadn’t recognized the panic back then.

“The string around my wrist.” Arthur tugged on it, laughing as it wrapped around his fingers. “It’s soft.”

He couldn’t really remember what happened after that. There was a lot of hushed voices, and then a lot of yelling. He remembered his father screaming at his nursemaid until she cried, and crying himself even when he knew he wasn’t supposed to. Princes weren’t supposed to cry.

Something he had never forgotten, however, was the way his father stalked towards him and gripped his shoulders tight. It had stopped his tears, but he still sniffled as his father stared at him.

“Arthur.” He’d said. “You must never tell anyone that you can see your heartstring, do you understand me?”

Arthur had nodded, even while asking quietly. “Why?”

“Because it’s magic son. And what have I told you about magic?”

“It’s evil.” Arthur whispered, fearful of all the terrifying stories he’d been told. “Does that mean I’m evil Father?”

A large hand had pulled his head to his father’s chest. “Of course not Arthur. You’re my son. But you must never tell anyone else of this. Sorcerers could use it against you.”

“Okay Father.” Arthur had said, and that was his first big secret.

///

When Arthur was seven, he learned what a soulmate was. Everyone in the world had one. Gaius had even told him some people had more than one. Arthur thought those people very lucky – they’d never be lonely, with three or four or twenty soulmates! Gaius had just thought it funny when he’d said so.

Gaius had told him many things that day. Like how soulmates felt a strong pull towards each other, and once they touched for the first time, they knew right away they belonged together. Gaius said it was like coming home after spending the day in the forest or sitting by the fire on a cold winter night. Arthur had asked if he had found his soulmate, and Gaius had drawn away, looking sadder than Arthur had ever seen him. He hadn’t asked again.

Then Gaius had told him about magic soulmates. Sorcerers, and their soulmates, had a unique ability no one else did.

“If someone has magic.” Gaius had told him. “Or if their soulmate has magic, then they’ll be able to see their heartstring.”

Arthur almost gasped aloud. It was only his prince training that kept him from visibly reacting. He shot a glance down to his wrist. The ever-present red string was there, weaving merrily through the air like it was putting on a show. It curled around his left arm, as if asking him to dance.

Gaius was still talking. “This, of course, makes it extremely easy for sorcerers and their soulmates to find each other. They can simply follow their heartstring until it leads them to their other half. They say the first touch is even more intense between magical soulmates. One pair was said to have shaken the very earth when they touched.”

Arthur wasn’t really paying attention anymore. He was staring at his heartstring as it disappeared through the window behind Gaius’s head. If he followed it, Arthur had wondered, what would he find? His soulmate. The one that Gaius had said was his other half. But how could that be true? Because Arthur could see his heartstring, and Arthur definitely didn’t have magic. Which meant his soulmate was a sorcerer.

His soulmate was evil.

Gaius had dismissed him not soon after, saying there wasn’t much point in continuing the lesson if Arthur wasn’t going to pay attention. Arthur was just glad to be away. He was so confused, and he wanted to ask Gaius to explain how Arthur’s soulmate could be evil, but it was his first big secret and he had promised his father he would never tell anyone.

He had all but ran back to his room. He wanted to be alone. He needed to think, and his father always sent people away when he needed to think, so surely it would help Arthur.

Ten minutes later a maid had arrived, telling him the king had requested his presence in his chambers. Arthur had sighed, but he couldn’t ignore his father, and he definitely couldn’t ignore his king.

“Arthur.” His father had called as he entered his chambers. “Come here.”

His father was standing by the window, watching the people of Camelot move around below. Arthur got on his tip toes to peer out at their people.

“Camelot is peaceful.” His father said, and Arthur knew from his tone that he had to listen closely. “It is peaceful and prosperous. Do you know why?”

“Because you’re a great king?” Arthur asked, tilting his head back to look at his father.

There was a chuckle, and then a warm hand ruffled his hair. “Yes son. But there is another reason. Camelot is the great city it is because I have made it my life’s goal to destroy the evils of magic.”

Arthur gulped, looking back out the window. The red blur of his heartstring wound down and out the closed window, into the town below.

“Arthur.” His father said, and suddenly he was spun around to stare his father in the eyes. “There is something you must understand. All magic is corruptible, and all that use it are evil.”

“I know Father.” Arthur had said, though his eyes wondered to his wrist. “They want to destroy us.”

“Exactly.” His father affirmed. “Which is why you must never allow yourself to get near your soulmate.”

Arthur jerked, look at his father with wide eyes. “What?”

“Don’t pretend Arthur.” His father admonished. “You can see your heartstring, which means your soulmate is a sorcerer. You must never let yourself be tainted by their evil, do you understand me?”

Arthur nodded, the motion more of a jerk than a nod. It seemed to placate his father.

“Good.”

Arthur frowned, worry curling tight around his chest to sink it’s claws into his heart. “What if they sneak up on me? I don’t want to be evil.”

His father hesitated, then his eyes glinted like hard steel. “If ever your soulmate gets that close to you, you must kill them.”

Arthur was pretty sure he stopped breathing. In the corner of his eye he watched his heartstring shrivel and curl in on itself. Everything in him wanted to say no. This person was his other half! How could his father order him to kill them?

But his father was the king, and he was very wise. And anyway, sorcerers were evil. You were supposed to kill them, before they could kill you.

Arthur struggled, but ultimately, he nodded. “Yes Father.”

And then Arthur had his second big secret. If he were to ever meet them, he would have to kill his soulmate.

///

Morgana arrived at the castle when he was eight. He had thought they could be friends, since Morgana had lost her parents and his father had said she would need a friend. But then he met her. She was ten, and very quiet, and refused to play with Arthur. She called him stupid and said that he was terrible with a sword. Arthur had hit her for that, and then they’d both been escorted to Gaius.

Gaius had tittered when they came in, both bruised and covered in dirt. Morgana refused to look up from the ground, and Arthur had glared at his fist. His cheek throbbed where Morgana had scratched it and his hand stung where she had bitten it after he’d punched her.

“What’s this then?” Gaius had asked as he tilted Arthur’s chin in the light. “Have you two been fighting like a pair of wildlings?”

Arthur pouted. “She started it! She called me stupid!”

Morgana crossed her arms, still not looking up from the floor. “If you don’t like being called stupid, then you shouldn’t be stupid.”

Arthur gasped. “You can’t talk to me like that! I’m the prince!”

“Prince Arthur.” Gaius warned, and Arthur fell silent. “Lady Morgana is your father’s ward now. You have to treat her with respect.”

Arthur glared as Gaius finished with him and moved to Morgana. She let him tilt her head and examine the bruise forming on her jaw.

“Lady Morgana, please hold your hair back for me.” She did so, still silently staring at the ground. “What prompted you to insult the prince, my lady.”

Morgana’s eyes flickered to his, and Arthur couldn’t resist sticking his tongue out at her. She glared back.

“He wouldn’t leave me alone, and then when I suggested we play knights, he said I couldn’t hold a sword because I’m a girl, and all girls are weak.” She winced as Gaius poked her bruise gently. “So I called him stupid, because that’s stupid.”

Gaius frowned. “It’s true, woman are far from weak. I have known many excellent woman warriors in my time.”

“Really?” Arthur had asked, disbelieving.

Gaius had nodded, stepped back, and let Morgana go. “Indeed. But that is in the past. Now, no more fighting you two. I don’t want to see you back here again.”

Gaius had shooed them out then. They had shared a glare, then walked off in different directions.

Arthur tried to avoid Morgana after that. She was odd, and very clearly didn’t want Arthur’s company, or anyone’s from what he had heard. She snapped at everyone, even his father. Arthur thought she was hiding something. His father scolded him and told her she had just lost her father. She needed time, he said.

Arthur had rolled his eyes when his father wasn’t looking, but he did feel a little guilty for hitting her now. Arthur had never known his mother, and he still missed her so much it hurt some days. He tried to imagine losing his father, and then quickly decided he’d give Morgana another chance. Maybe she did just need time, like his father had said.

He made his way to her chambers to offer his friendship for the second time, and maybe he’d let her sword fight with him, if she asked very nicely. When Arthur had gotten close enough to knock on the door, there was a faint tremor under his feet. His heart beat in panic as he thought of the stories of earthquakes, of how entire castles had fallen and crushed everyone in them.

It took a second, but finally the tremors stopped. Arthur shakily put a hand on the ground, making sure that it was unmoving beneath his feet. Once he was sure the castle wasn’t going to fall down around him, he burst into Morgana’s room. The girl in question was sitting on the floor, a young serving girl Arthur had never seen before sitting in front of her.

“Did you feel that!” Arthur yelled, then took in the state of the room with ever-widening eyes.

Morgana glanced around at the mess of her room, panicked. “No!”

Arthur frowned. “The whole castle shook. It was like an earthquake! There’s no way you missed it.”

Morgana huffed and got to her feet, one hand tugging the serving girl to stand with her. “Maybe it was all in your head. You can be so pig headed I wouldn’t be surprised if you imagined the castle shaking.”

“Hey!” Arthur growled, because really, he’d come here to be friends and she was acting worse than last time. “I’m not pig headed! You’re just hiding something!”

He didn’t mean it, not really, because he had come to believe his father’s claims of her just missing her father, but at her sharp gasp and the way the serving girl hid behind her Arthur had thought maybe his original suspicions hadn’t been too far off.

“You are hiding something.” Arthur hissed, and stepped closer. “Tell me what it is.”

“No!” Morgana yelled, one hand on her hip, the other still holding the other girls’ hand. “It’s none of your business!”

“I’m the prince!” Arthur argued, though Morgana really should know by now. “Everything is my business. And anyway, who are you?”

The serving girl squeaked as he turned his attention to her. “I’m Guinevere, my lord.”

Arthur narrowed his eyes. “I haven’t seen you in the castle before.”

“Leave her alone Arthur.” Morgana snapped. “She’s new.”

Arthur decided to let it go, because the girl did look terribly frightened, and he highly doubted she was any kind of threat. “What’s your secret then?”

Morgana glared daggers. “Nothing, now leave us alone!”

Arthur had taken a step back then, to survey the room and its contents with the eyes of the strategist his father wanted him to be, and that was what made everything click. He glanced from Morgana to the serving girl – Guinevere – and then at their tightly clasped hands. Like they never wanted to let go.

His breath caught. “You’re soulmates.”

Morgana pounced. Arthur cried out as she rammed into him, only just managing to avoid slamming his head hard on the floor. Morgana was panting hard, and she looked terrified, like Arthur was the one attacking her. She raised a hand to punch him, and he focused long enough to block it and roll out from under her.

He had scrambled as far away as he could get, all the way back to the door, panting and confused and maybe a little bit scared. “What was that for!”

Guinevere was standing still, hands covering her mouth and tears in her eyes. Morgana picked herself up off the floor and immediately ran to take her hand again. Guinevere glanced from her to Arthur, and she looked like she was far more scared of Arthur than Morgana, which he thought was remarkably unfair. She had attacked him; she was the scary one!

“You can’t tell anyone.” Morgana commanded.

Arthur frowned, not liking her tone one bit. “I don’t have to do anything you tell me. I’m the prince.”

Morgana still, infuriatingly, didn’t seem to care for his status. “But you can’t tell anyone!”

“Why not?” Arthur asked, crossing his arms. “You’re crazy. You attacked me out of no where! Maybe I should tell Father so he can protect your soulmate from your insanity.”

“No!” Both girls yelled, and it startled Arthur so much he almost fell back against the door.

“You can’t.” Morgana hissed, and Arthur realised how serious she was when he saw the beginnings of tears in her eyes.

“Please sire.” Guinevere whispered, pleading.

He blinked, looking around the room again, something whispering in the back of his mind that he chose to ignore. “Alright. I won’t tell anyone.”

Both girls sighed in relief.

Guinevere smiled. “Thank you sire!”

He nodded, then narrowed his eyes at Morgana. “Are you going to tell me why?”

“No.” She said, challenging him to say more.

Arthur huffed. “Fine.”

He had hesitated then, knowing the girls probably wanted him gone, but he was curious, and they owed him. He moved back into the room, sitting in a nearby chair.

“What’s it like?” He asked, because he had to know, since his own soulmate was evil and he’d never get to experience this. “The first touch?”

Guinevere sighed, melting back to the floor as Morgana sunk to her knees. “It’s like sitting by my father’s forge in the evening. Cosy and warm.”

Morgana nodded. “It was like seeing the world all over again, except everything was more. All the colours were brighter, and all the sounds were louder. It was overwhelming, but I’d never felt more alive.”

Arthur watched out of the corner of his eyes as his heartstring moved to their words, winding and dancing through the air. “That’s what Gaius said it was like.”

He sighed wistfully, and Guinevere tried to smile reassuringly. “I’m sure you’ll find your soulmate some day soon my lord. Then you’ll understand.”

Arthur looked to where his heartstring disappeared out of the window, a lie already heavy on his tongue. “I hope so.”

He had left the girls then, though he surprised Morgana with an offer to teach her sword fighting if she really wanted. She had given him a smile then; the first one Arthur had ever seen on her face. It looked better on her than her frown, at least.

And so, Arthur ended that day with his third and maybe most important secret. Morgana and Guinevere were soulmates, and no one could know, for reasons he hadn’t been told. Although, perhaps if he had looked a little closer, or listened a little more to that nagging voice in the back of his mind, he would have figured it out on his own.

///

When Arthur was ten, he got very sick. He felt freezing, but everyone kept insisting he was burning like a raging fire. Nothing he ate seemed to want to stay down, and he barely had the energy to sit up, let alone walk around and be a proper prince. He hated it. It had felt like he had been sick for a lifetime.

Gaius didn’t know what was wrong with him. He thought Arthur was dying. Arthur agreed with him on his worse days, when even the smell of food had him heaving sick into a chamberpot. It certainly felt like dying.

Of course, Gaius hadn’t said so to his face. He had told his father, on one of the nights when the king put aside his duties to just sit with his son. They had thought he was asleep. There had been whispering, mostly about things Arthur couldn’t understand, but he understood enough. He was sick with something Gaius had never seen before, and he was slowly dying from it.

His father visited him every day, mostly in the evenings. Morgana and Gwen visited him twice a day, always just after breakfast and just before it was time for him to sleep. They were brilliant company, his two closest friends, and Arthur loved every minute with them because it was infinitely better than the pressing silence of his room. Once, he got a visit from one of the new squires that had taken Arthur under his wing. His name was Leon, and Arthur though he was going to make an excellent knight. He even told him so, on his visit, and he’d blushed and thanked him.

Gaius was in his room almost constantly. He was always shuffling about, from one test to another, trying to figure out what mysterious illness Arthur had fallen under. Nothing worked, and Arthur often watched through a fevered haze as the physician grew increasingly frantic as the days passed.

When Arthur developed a large rash all over his chest and back, Gaius had gone pale and dove straight for one of his books. He’d come back shaking and ordered a guard to fetch his father.

That was when Arthur knew he was going to die soon.

His father had arrived, red faced and formally dressed like when he was feasting with visiting nobles. Gaius had whispered something to him, and he had turned to Arthur with such grief in his eyes that he had to look away. A cough racked his body, and suddenly his father was there, rough hands gentle and cool against his head.

“There must be something you can do Gaius. Anything.” His father ordered, but to Arthur it sounded more like a plea.

“I’m sorry sire.” Gaius said, still pale and shaking and grief stricken, and Arthur wasn’t even dead yet. “But this is a powerful curse. I don’t know anyone that could stop it, especially not with how far along it is.”

Magic. So it was magic that had made him sick. Now it made sense why Gaius hadn’t been able to treat him. Gaius could treat anybody. But not against magic. He coughed again, and thought magic was the evilest thing in the world. If the sorcerer had wanted to kill him, why couldn’t they have done it quickly? His whole body hurt.

He had fallen back into sleep then, and from there his memories turned blurry. All he knew was that every breath hurt, and he’d never been so cold, even while he sweated more than he had in all his life. His father was by his side more often now. Gaius had seemed to have disappeared. Arthur guessed he wasn’t really needed now, since he was sick with magic that Gaius couldn’t heal.

The next thing that Arthur remembers clearly is a bright green light. It was one of those rare nights where Arthur had been left alone. He’d been doing better the day before, talking with Morgana and staying awake for almost the whole day. Gaius deemed it best if his father rested in his own room, and so reluctantly the king had left his bedside for the first time in days.

The green light pulled him from his sleep. It had slid in through his open window along with a cool breeze. Arthur shivered awake. He would have screamed when he saw the light, but he’d long lost the energy for such things. Instead he flinched back as far as he could, which was an inch to his left before his body betrayed him and collapsed. He could do nothing but watch the green light cautiously.

It seemed to float in the breeze, and it lit up Arthur’s entire room with its glow. He watched it for a moment, before realising something odd.

His heartstring was reaching for the light. It was as loose around his wrist as ever, but it danced as the light came close, drifting up until they were almost touching. Arthur held his breath as the green light circled his heartstring, something almost joyous in its movements.

Then Arthur coughed weakly, and the light jerked to a stop before it sped towards him.

He had yelled then, but it came out no louder than a whisper. He whimpered and closed his eyes seconds before he magic touched him. So this was how he would die. Tears sprang into his eyes and he cried, knowing he didn’t want to die just yet. He was only ten! He hadn’t even become king and ruled his people as his father did. He wasn’t supposed to die yet!

Then the magic sunk into his left arm, where his heartstring disappeared into his wrist. He could feel it, tingling underneath his skin as it made its way into his heart. The instant it his his chest Arthur gasped.

In seconds he was completely calm. He knew this magic, even if he had never felt it before. It was the same magic connected to his heartstring, the same magic his other half wielded. It was his soulmate, and it was there to help.

Within minutes Arthur had felt better than he had in weeks. The magic tingled through his entire body, and he relaxed into his sheets with a sigh. In the instant before he fell asleep, he’d thought that perhaps his soulmate, and their magic, wasn’t so bad after all.

He woke to Gaius and his father hovering over him. The first thing he realised was that nothing hurt anymore. The second thing he realised was that he didn’t feel cold. In fact, with so many blankets piled on him, he felt a little too warm. He relished in it, having thought he’d never feel warm again.

“What happened?” His father whispered, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

Gaius leaned over him, pulling his still sleepy body this way and that as Arthur protested weakly. “It would seem that he has been completely healed sire.”

“How?” His father growled. “You said it was a curse, that nothing could be done.”

“It was my soulmate.” Arthur said before he could think any better of it.

The two men froze, his father gaping at him. “What?”

Arthur cleared his throat, wishing he had some water to clear the croak he had when he spoke. “My soulmate healed me. They sent a green light last night.”

He managed to stop himself from telling his father how pretty it was, or about how nice and safe it had felt as it drew the curse from him, but it was a near thing.

His father launched forward and grabbed his arms tightly, ignoring Arthur’s surprised cry and struggles. “Are you absolutely sure Arthur?”

“Yes!” Arthur said, energy waning again as he tried to pry his father’s fingers off him. “My heartstring was dancing around it, and when the magic touched me I knew. They sent it to make me better!”

He snapped his mouth shut in horror as his father’s face turned pale, then a furious red. Arthur stopped struggling and fell back into his bed, shaking slightly. His soulmate had used magic to heal him, and last night Arthur had thought that maybe it meant not all sorcerers were evil. But what if it was a trick? What if…

“Am I corrupted now?” He asked, tears already gathering in his eyes, though he refused to let them fall.

“No sire.” Gaius said instantly, shooting a frown at his father.

The king schooled his expression, hands loosening from their death grip. “No son. But you must not let this cloud your judgement. This was more than likely a trick to get you to trust magic and turn you against me.”

Arthur’s eyes widened. “I would never Father.”

He got a smile for that, tight lipped as it was. “I know Arthur.”

Gaius had cleared his throat then, and ordered Arthur get more rest. He obliged, and within two days he felt healthier than ever before. Gwen called it a miracle, while Morgana just gave him a weird look and told him she was happy he was better.

He never told anyone, for it was a secret that was all his own and he wanted to keep it that way, but he knew without a doubt that despite everything he’d been told, his soulmate’s magic had made him feel safer than all the guards his father assigned to protect him. He knew he shouldn’t be swayed by it. Knew it was dangerous thinking.

His biggest secret was one he could never tell anyone – that, perhaps, magic wasn’t so evil after all.

///

On Arthur’s fifteenth birthday, almost all of his secrets were discovered all at once by the one person he had always suspected would find out one day.

He had just finished cleaning himself up after his birthday feast. He had felt like he was flying, after having been knighted for all to see that morning, then allowed to drink as much wine as he wanted at his feast. It was a great honour, and Arthur could feel the drink buzzing through his whole body.

He was relaxing in his bed, idly watching his heartstring float around his room. It was something he tried to avoid doing, but the drink made him forget why he was supposed to ignore his tie to his soulmate. He found himself waving both his arms around, giggling drunkenly to himself as his heartstring curled around his fingers and wiggled in his palms.

He hadn’t heard the door open, or noticed the footsteps approaching him.

It was only when Morgana gasped, her eyes trained on his hands waving in the air, that he realised how much trouble he was in.

He had scrambled up, practically throwing himself off the bed. His head spun, and he staggered as his stomach complained about the sudden movement. His heart had beat so fast that in a moment of drunken panic Arthur had thought it would beat right out of his chest.

“Morgana!” He yelled, louder than he had been planning. “What are you doing in my chambers? You can’t just, just… burst in here whenever you want!”

Morgana ignored his slurred stuttering, staring at him with eyes far more sober and understanding than Arthur liked. “You were playing with your heartstring, weren’t you? You can see it!”

“No!” Arthur yelled. “That’s stupid!”

“Don’t lie!” Morgana hissed, stalking forwards until Arthur was forced to step back to avoid her finger poking him in the chest. “You can see your heartstring, can’t you?”

Arthur crashed into the wall, wincing as the back of his head started throbbing. “Go away Morgana.”

“Not until you tell me the truth!” Morgana yelled.

Frustration bubbled in Arthur’s chest, and before he could even think it through words were falling from his lips, words he was never meant to tell another soul. “Yes! Alright! I can see it! Are you happy now Morgana? Is that good enough for you? Going to run off and tell your soulmate so you can both giggle over how I’m never going to be able to have what you two have?”

Arthur glared at Morgana as the last of his words seemed to ring in his ears. Morgana had her hands over her mouth, eyes wide and shocked. A second later, Arthur realised what he had said. He gaped at Morgana, wondering where all of that had come from. Silently he swore to never drink so much ever again.

“Arthur.” Morgana breathed, hands still over her mouth. “Is that really what you think? You think we’d do that to you? That Gwen would?”

Arthur thought of Gwen and winced. “Of course not.”

They stood in silence for a moment, then Morgana gently guided him to sit down in his chair. It was only as he flopped into the cushions that he realised he was shaking. Morgana tutted and prodded at his head, only moving away when Arthur growled and weakly slapped at her arm. She sat across from from him, giving him a moment to gather himself.

“So your soulmate has magic.” She said bluntly.

Arthur winced again, though this time the pain wasn’t physical. “Well I certainly don’t.”

Morgana glared, but Arthur thought he was justified in snapping at her. She had just forced his deepest secret from him, and instead of dropping the subject like she should have and leaving him in peace, she was asking him obvious questions.

“Does anyone else know?” She asked.

Arthur shrugged. “My old nursemaid was the one who first realised what was going on, and she told my father. Gaius also knows, somehow, but I’m convinced Gaius knows everything.”

Morgana nodded, then frowned. “How long have you been able to see it?”

Arthur frowned too. “For as long as I can remember. It’s always just been there.”

“Don’t you think that’s weird?”

Arthur blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Well, if you’ve always been able to see your heartstring, that means your soulmate has always had magic. So they’re either twenty years older than you, or…” Morgana hesitated.

Arthur narrowed his eyes at her, not getting it. “Or what?”

Morgana took a deep breath. “Or they’ve always had their magic.”

“You mean, they were born with it? That’s impossible.” Arthur dismissed. “Magic is an evil, corruptible force that people choose to learn. Nothing I’ve ever heard or seen has proven that wrong.”

Morgana looked pointedly to his wrist. “Except your heartstring.”

Arthur shifted, uncomfortable. “That doesn’t prove anything. They’re probably just years older than me, like you said.”

“But what if magic isn’t something you choose?” Morgana pressed. “What if magic chooses you?”

“Morgana!” Arthur yelled. “That’s treason! You can’t talk like that!”

Morgana drew back, glaring at him again now. “Are you serious? Do you honestly still believe magic is evil? That your soulmate is evil?”

Arthur looked away. “Magic has hurt many people Morgana.”

“So have swords, but no one’s banned them!” She hissed. “Arthur, this is your soulmate we’re talking about! They’re literally your perfect partner! You can’t honestly think that they’re evil.”

And maybe, if Arthur was a little less drunk, he would have yelled and thrown Morgana out for that. Because it came dangerously close to his own thoughts, the ones that rose whenever he remembered a bright light sinking into his heart and making him feel safe and warm. He always did his best to shove those thoughts away. Curse Morgana for giving voice to them.

“What has your father told you?” She asked, drawing Arthur from his thoughts.

He glared at her, and once again his mouth moved before he could think. “What do you think Morgana? My soulmate is a sorcerer. And we all know what my father does to them.”

Morgana grasped his hand, almost crushing it her grip was so tight. “What has he told you?”

And Arthur found he couldn’t hold back this secret, not now she knew his first. “He commanded that if ever I should see my soulmate, I am to kill them before we can touch.”

Morgana hissed and jerked away from him like he had burned her, staring at him in horror, and maybe a little bit of pity. “You wouldn’t.”

Arthur huffed. “I must do as my king commands.”

“Arthur that’s your soulmate! Killing them would be like killing yourself! I couldn’t imagine losing Gwen, let alone killing her.”

“Well then.” Arthur snapped, tone growing dangerous. “Aren’t you lucky she isn’t a sorcerer.”

Morgana flinched back again, something raw and vulnerable in her eyes. Her hand curled into a fist, then relaxed, over and over as she seemed to wage an internal battle. Arthur watched, distantly curious, as she seemed to come to a conclusion.

“If she was.” Morgana said lowly. “If she did have magic, I wouldn’t let anyone hurt her. I’d protect her, no matter what.”

Arthur thought he probably shouldn’t be surprised, considering how Morgana had always fought for magic users to be judged fairly for their actions whenever his father caught them, rather than just executed right away for the crime of having magic. Arthur was, however, surprised at the look of fierce determination now on her face, and the words spilling out of her mouth.

“And you Arthur?”

He blinked, finally finding his voice again. “What about me?”

“If Gwen had magic, would you turn her in? Would you kill her?” She asked, gaze piercing.

Arthur barely needed anytime to consider it, the answer already on his tongue. “No.”

Something eased in Morgana then, even as something else tensed further. “And me? What if I had magic? Would you think me evil?”

“Of course not.” He snapped, frustration returning. “Not that it matters! Morgana, why don’t you go back to Gwen and just leave me alone.”

“It does matter.” She whispered.

Arthur paused, trying to figure out what she meant. “How?”

“Because!” She hesitated, looking from his face to her hands in her lap. “Because you aren’t the only one who can see your heartstring.”

Arthur reeled back, and somewhere in the back of his mind a voice was screaming at him to just run away from this whole mess. He didn’t want to hear what else Morgana had to say. Didn’t want to think about what it meant, for him, for her or for his father and his kingdom. But it was cowardly to run away, and Prince Arthur Pendragon was no coward.

“I’ve always been able to see mine too, ever since I can remember. My father told me to never tell anyone as well. That day I met Gwen, when she showed up in my chambers and my heartstring led to her, I-”

“The earthquake.” Arthur breathed, everything suddenly making sense. “That was you.”

Morgana nodded. “Our first touch. It was… intense.”

Arthur sat in silence for a moment, before finally speaking again. “And is she? Or- or you?”

Morgana smiled, tight lipped and if Arthur was being honest with himself, a little terrified. “We’ve both come to the conclusion that it’s not her.”

Arthur gulped. “How can you be sure?”

“For the past month or so I… I’ve been having these… dreams.” Morgana said slowly, something Arthur had never known her to do. “And when I wake up, those dreams happen. Like they weren’t dreams at all but… but visions.”

“You mean you dream of the future?” Arthur asked, and though he’d never admit it, he was impressed by the idea.

Morgana nodded. “We think so.”

Arthur took a deep breath, allowing himself a moment to come to terms with this new information. “Okay. Alright. You have magic.”

“Yes.” Morgana bit her lip. “Do you think I’m evil?”

“No!” Arthur said, leaping from his seat to fall to the floor next to her. “Morgana of course not. I’ve known you for years! You’re not evil. A little rough sometimes, but you’re not evil.”

Morgana laughed shakily. “You should get drunk more often. You actually show more than one emotion.”

Silence, and then.

“I won’t tell a soul, you have my word.”

Morgana sniffled. “Thank you. You have no idea- you don’t know what it’s like. Thinking you were born a monster. Even with Gwen to tell me otherwise, sometimes I can’t help but feel like maybe she’s wrong and it’s just a matter of time until I do something horrible.”

Arthur struggled to think of something, anything to say, and finally blurted out the first thing that popped into his mind. “So you were born with your powers?”

Morgana frowned. “Well I would certainly have never chosen to learn magic in Camelot!”

Arthur nodded. “I don’t believe anyone is born evil Morgana.”

“And if magic does corrupt those that use it? I might not have been born evil, but I could turn it.”

Morgana was pleading with him for an answer. An answer he honestly didn’t have. His whole life he’d been told the horrors of magic, the destruction it could bring. But looking at Morgana, all of that was flipped around. He couldn’t imagine her doing any of the things he’d been told sorcerers did. It felt wrong, just like killing his soulmate felt wrong, no matter who they were.

“If you’re the one that has magic.” Arthur said slowly. “Then I believe it can be used to help. To do good. Because you’re a good person Morgana. And I can’t imagine anything changing that.”

Morgana sniffled again, quickly leaning forward to pull him into a hug. Arthur pat her on the back awkwardly, trying to ignore the tears he could feel dripping onto his shirt. He got the feeling that was exactly what Morgana had needed to hear.

“Thank you Arthur. You’re a good person too.” She laughed wetly. “Especially when you’re drunk.”

“Sod off.” Arthur protested. “I’m not that drunk.”

And as Arthur walked Morgana back to her own chambers, where Gwen was tending to the fire waiting for her, he felt even lighter than he had before. All of his secrets he now shared with Morgana, and would soon be shared with Gwen, he was sure. Even the weight of Morgana’s magic, and how they would keep it hidden, couldn’t weigh him down. His grin felt like it would last forever, if forever could just be this one night.

///

When Arthur was twenty, his heartstring tightened around his wrist. It startled him so badly he almost threw his goblet across the high table at the feast his father had thrown for one of the new knights. His father had sent him a disapproving frown, and from his other side Morgana glanced at him in concern. Gwen hurried forward to clean up the wine he had accidentally spilled. He muttered a thank you under his breath, glancing down at his heartstring as he did.

The string, which was usually wrapped loosely around his wrist and left to float and dance around the room above his head before disappearing into the distance, was pulled tight. It had barely any room to tangle in the air, and for a moment Arthur wondered at how wrong that was. His heartstring had always flown free through the air. He’d never known it to act like this.

As it tightened further around his wrist, he realised what was happening, and cold fear gripped him.

His soulmate was getting closer to him.

His soulmate was coming.

His heartstring gave another tug.

Arthur felt like he couldn’t breathe.

The rest of the night passed in a blur. He could feel multiple eyes on him. His father glared at him every time he saw him glancing around the room. Morgana wouldn’t stop sending him concerned looks. He could feel Gwen’s eyes burning a worried hole in the back of his head. Even Leon threw him a few glances from his place among the other knights.

He ignored them all, sneaking glances at his steadily tightening heartstring.

When his father called the feast to an end, Arthur was the first to scramble from his seat and all but run out the door, court etiquette be damned. Morgana made to follow him, but he gestured for her to stay. His father’s glare burned a hole next to Gwen’s. He hadn’t cared.

He slammed the door to his chambers shut, breath coming fast as he stared at his wrist. His heartstring tugged, and he followed it to his window. He tossed it open, uncaring about the cold autumn air, and followed where it disappeared into the darkness. It tugged again.

His soulmate was coming to Camelot, and Arthur had never felt the weight of his secrets baring down on him quite this hard.

///

And that's the end of part one! If you wish to support me, please consider donating to my PayPal.

#merlin #bbc merlin #merthur #merlin/arthur #morgwen #gwen/morgana #soulmate #soulmates au #merlin fanfiction #FDTFIL #Heartstrings AU #cakeswriting #My writing

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mischiefandspirits · 7 years

Text

From the Start

"You... assisted me in my fight against the bandits. For that, you have my thanks. I'm an honorable man and I repay my debts. Leave now and I will not hunt you."

"Assisted? I'm pretty sure I saved your life."

"I had the situation perfec- Are you trying to make me reconsider letting you go?"

It was supposed to be a one time thing. Arthur let the sorcerer run off with his life in return for him saving Arthur's. He had never expected to see the boy again, especially not only two days later in Gaius's chambers.

"Get back!"

Merlin jumped as he turned a bend and the sounds of a swordfight reached his ears. The logical part of his mind told him to flee, to keep his head down and out of trouble like his mother told him when she had seen him off. Another part of him - a stronger, unknown part - pulled him towards the fight.

"I must be an idiot," Merlin muttered to himself as he followed the sounds to their source. When he reached the fight, he ducked behind a tree.

There were six men, eight counting the two that were either unconscious or dead on the ground. All but one were bandits, if the dark clothes and semi-covered faces were anything to go by. The last one, who was surrounded by the other five standing men and fighting tooth-and-nail against them, was obviously someone of wealth. He was skilled as well, having held out as long as he had, but there was only so much one man could do against five. As Merlin watched, the young man managed to down one man and repel two more, but the fourth managed to get in close enough to slice his arm and the fifth nearly took his head.

While the young man attempted to hold off the fifth, Merlin noticed the two bandits the young man had repelled before had snuck behind him. Reacting on instinct, Merlin's hand shot out and magic welled up in him. A spear that had been dropped by one of the fallen bandits flew up to knock the two off their feet. The young man glanced over his shoulder for just a second, but then quickly refocused on the fight. The two bandits still standing went down easy. When the two Merlin had hit returned to their feet, the larger was felled by the young man's blade, but not before dealing him a blow to the head. The last bandit took one look at his fallen allies and deserted into the forest.

Relieved that the stranger was safe, Merlin turned to run off before he could be discovered.

"Stop, you there!"

Merlin glanced back, expecting the young man to be yelling after the fleeing bandit, only to see him pointing his sword towards the tree Merlin was hiding behind.

"I saw what you did. Come out, now, in the name of -"

The young man took two steps towards Merlin before collapsing.

Melin sat, frozen. On one hand, he should really leave. If the stranger really had seen him use magic then he would accuse Merlin of being a sorcerer, which was a death sentence in these parts. On the other hand, could he really leave a man to die in the woods?

"A right idiot," Merlin mumbled as he glanced around then shuffled over to the stranger.

He first pulled the young man away from the bandits and weapons - just in case - then kept an ear out in case the bandit returned as he checked the stranger for injuries. Aside from the slice on his arm, the man only had a few bruises scattered about and the bump on his head from where the bandit had hit him.

It must have been the hit that took him down. He's lucky he made it through the fight before he passed out, Merlin thought and pulled out his waterskin and a few scraps of cloth. He rinsed off the cut and used the cloth to dress and bandage it. It wasn't much, but it would do until the stranger could have someone proper look it over. Next, he poured a bit of water on a cloth and gently held it to the bump on the man's head to help with the swelling.

They stayed like that for a short time, Merlin idly wondering how much of an idiot he must be, before the young man started to wake. He groaned, eyes fluttering and hand coming to his head.

"Careful, you don't want to make it worse," Merlin warned.

The stranger's eyes blinked open and he stared up at Merlin in confusion.

"Are you okay? Besides the obvious, I mean. That was a stupid question, wasn't it?"

The young man stared up at him for only a second before jerking up into a sitting position with wide eyes filled with anger and a touch of fear. The look was wiped away a second later when he closed his eyes and moaned, hand brushing the bump on his head.

Merlin moved back all the same. "I'm guessing this means your memory is intact."

The stranger gave him a slightly pained glare. "You're a sorcerer. I saw you use magic to attack the men that were behind me."

"You're welcome by the way," Merlin commented and the man's glare grew.

"Magic is forbidden in Camelot. Those that practice it are evil and vile and are to be put to death."

"And yet I just saved your life. Obviously whoever made that rule is an idiot," Merlin muttered to himself, but the other man heard.

"You're the idiot. Do you even know who you speak to?"

"King of the prats?" Merlin joked, before adding, "How should I know who you are? It's not like you've introduced yourself."

The stranger gave him an odd look. "What do you want, sorcerer? You must have had some reason to seek me out?"

"I didn't seek you out. I just saw you being attacked and I thought I'd help."

The young man snorted and narrowed his eyes once more. "Why would you risk revealing yourself and your magic just to save my life? You must have wanted something."

"I wasn't going to sit back and watch someone be killed. I didn't think I just... acted." When the man just stared at Merlin in an unconvinced fashion, he added, "I'm serious."

"I can't tell whether or not you are a really good liar or just a complete idiot."

"At least I'm not an ass," Merlin mumbled.

Neither had a chance to say more before the sounds of horses and men began to fill the air.

"That will be the knights. About time too," the stranger said, glancing towards the sound. He turned back to Merlin and looked him over. "You best be leaving."

"I - What?" Merlin asked.

"If you're still here when the knights arrive, I'll have no choice but to turn you over. Now leave," the young man said, slowly pulling himself to his feet.

"You're letting me go? Just like that?"

"You... assisted me in my fight against the bandits. For that, you have my thanks. I'm an honorable man and I repay my debts. Leave now and I will not hunt you."

"Assisted? I'm pretty sure I saved your life."

"I had the situation perfec- Are you trying to make me reconsider letting you go?"

"Who, me? I didn't say anything. I'll just grab my stuff and go." Merlin stuffed his waterskin and the unused clothes back in his bag and got up to leave.

"And sorcerer," the stranger added, "this is a one time deal. If I catch you doing magic again or if you try to threaten the kingdom, I will not let you live."

Merlin nodded and said, "Thank you," before rushing into the forest away from the knights.

Merlin looked everywhere as he made his way through the lower town and into the citadel. Everything was so different from his small village, even at night. He only wished he could have arrived sooner and during the day. His detour, both the stop to help the stranger and the side road he had taken to be sure he didn't run into the knights, had led to him arriving later than expected.

"Where would I find Gaius, the Court Physician?" the warlock asked one of the guards stationed in the square.

The guard pointed to a hallway. "There."

Merlin nodded his head in thanks. He turned to head down the hall before pausing when hoofbeats echoed through the square. He glanced back to see a woman riding in alongside her guardsmen.

"That must be Lady Helen," one of the citadel's guards said. "Wish I could have gotten duty during the feast. Her voice is a gift."

Merlin watched the woman, Lady Helen, get helped down from her horse until he noticed a different guard glaring at him. He gave the guard what he hoped was a reassuring smile before slipping down the hall. It led to a staircase and he knocked on the door he found at the top.

"Hello?" the warlock called, opening the door. "Hello, Gaius?" He stepped in and glanced around the workshop, which was filled with vials and herbs and other such stuff Merlin assumed were necessary for a physician's work, but couldn't see the man he was meant to be meeting.

"What are you doing here?"

Merlin felt his blood go cold as he spun around to see the young man he had saved two days earlier. The stranger was standing in the doorway, glaring at Merlin with his hand coming down to rest on the hilt of the sword at his hip.

"W-what are you doing here?"

"I do believe I asked you first," the young man growled, shutting the door behind him. Merlin stumbled back as the man approached him. "I thought I made myself clear. You were allowed to leave with your life as long as you stayed away. Do you want me to turn you over for execution?"

"No! No, of course not!"

"Then why are you following me?"

"I'm not, I swear! How was I supposed to know you were here?"

"You knew I was injured. Why wouldn't I come to see a physician?"

"Sure, but how was I to know you'd come to see the court physician. He can't be the only one you could go to."

The young man gave him the same odd look he had given Merlin before. "Why are you here then? Are you trying to sabotage Gaius's work? Or is Gaius the one you're after?"

"No, I would never! I was just -"

The warlock cut off as the door to the physician's quarters began to open.

Arthur was furious. He should have never of let the sorcerer run off with his life. Now he was going to attack Gaius or send a plague through the city or something equally terrible and it was all going to be Arthur's fault.

No. The boy wasn't going to do anything because Arthur was going to right his wrong before anyone could get hurt.

"Gaius," Arthur greeted the elderly physician as he slipped through the door.

"Ah, Prince Arthur, good timing. I hope I haven't kept you waiting. I was just dropping off your father's medicine," Gaius said, bowing his head respectfully.

"Prince?" Arthur heard the sorcerer squeak before he could think up a way to get the physician out of the line of fire. He glanced over to see that the boy was staring at him with shock and a touch of fear in his eyes. About time he realized who he was dealing with.

Gaius turned to the sorcerer with wide eyes. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't see you there."

"Oh, erm…" The sorcerer turned to Gaius with an uneasy smile. "Sorry, I had this letter, but it kind of got ruined when my waterskin leaked. I'm - uh - I'm Merlin."

Arthur watched as realization flashed through Gauis's eyes. "Hunith's son?"

"Yes."

"But you're not meant to be here till Wednesday!"

"It's... Thursday, actually."

"Ah."

"Sorry, I -" The boy, Merlin, glanced over at Arthur. "- got lost on the way here."

"It's fine, just as long as you're okay." The sorcerer nodded. "Ah, right then. You better put your bag in there. You must be tired. Have you eaten?" He nodded again. "Then go rest up, we can talk some more in the morning."

"Thank you," the sorcerer said before sending Arthur one last look and ducking through the door Gaius had gestured at.

"If you would, Your Highness, you can sit here while I check your injuries and change your bandages."

Arthur nodded and sat where he was told, still looking at the door that the sorcerer had disappeared through. "You know that boy?" he asked, finally turning to Gaius.

"Merlin?" the physician hummed, removing the bandages from the prince's arm. "Not personally, no, but his mother is a dear friend. She contacted me and asked for me to take him in; watch over him and teach him a few things. Why do you ask?"

Arthur briefly considered telling the truth. "He… was here when I arrived. I don't remember seeing him around so I was worried he was up to no good."

"Well, if he's anything like his mother then he'll be no problem at all. If he's like his father, though…" Gaius snorted and shook his head.

"He didn't seem to recognize me. In fact, I'm not even sure he understood I was nobility."

"I can't say I'm surprised. The village Merlin is from is in Essetir's boundaries, near the border of Camelot. At most, he's probably only heard your name in passing. And I doubt he's had much experience with nobles since Ealdor isn't near any major roads."

"Essetir? Why would he come here all the way from Cenred's kingdom?"

"I don't think Hunith had many other options."

"But why send him away at all?" Cenred didn't have Uther's hatred of magic. Merlin's mother must have known of the boy's powers. Why would she send him to the heart of Camelot?

"Merlin was having… problems with the people of Ealdor."

"He was causing trouble?"

"More like people were causing trouble for him. From what I understand, Merlin didn't quite fit in. I'm not too surprised. His father… has been gone a long while. As I know you can understand, growing up without a parent can be hard, and we all don't have the luxury of being prince to keep the bullies away. Children can be harsh, teenagers can be worse."

Arthur still didn't see why escaping a few bullies would be worth the risk of discovery and execution. He wasn't about to say such to Gaius though - He had decided that Merlin was his problem so he would just have to figure this out on his own - so instead he put on his best understanding face and nodded.

Merlin… Merlin…

Merlin's eyes flickered open and he sat up, glancing around. He could have sworn he heard a voice. He glanced around for a moment longer before shaking it off. He quickly dressed and stepped out into the main room of the physician's quarters.

Gaius glanced up at him as he entered. "I got you water. You didn't wash last night."

"Sorry," Merlin said, moving to grab the bucket of water, but stumbled and knocked it off the table instead. For a second, water and bucket froze in midair. Merlin glanced up, wide-eyed, and thanked the heavens that Gaius's back was turned. Of course, the moment his focus was off the bucket, it clattered to the floor with the water splashing around it. "I'm so sorry! I can be a bit clumsy sometimes," Merlin explained, blushing and fetching a mop.

"Well, we better keep you out of trouble. You can help me until I find some paid work for you. Here, Sir Gregory was feeling ill after his ride with Lady Helen. Tell him to take half at midday and the rest before bed. And this is for Sir Leon. Remind him that he needs to eat with it. Tell him that if he ends up sick again because he skipped a meal to train, he'll need to find someone else to treat him." Gaius said, taking the mop and handing Merlin two vials, each with a label stating who they were for. "And here," he added, holding out a plate with a sandwich. Merlin smiled in thanks before the older man shooed him away with an, "Off you go."

Merlin had finished his sandwich by the time he realized the castle was far too large to just wander about until he found who he was looking for. He was just considering asking one of the servants when the choice was made for him and he bumped into a maid as he was turning the corner.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he said, dropping down to help her gather the clothes that had fallen out of her laundry basket.

"No, it's okay. I was lost in my thoughts. I should have been paying attention to where I was going." The young woman smiled up at him once they'd gathered the clothes, only to frown and tilt her head. "I'm sorry, I don't think we've met. I'm Guinevere, but most people call me Gwen. I'm the Lady Morgana's maid."

"Right, I'm Merlin," he held out his hand for her to shake. "Although, most people just call me Idiot. Or Clumsy. Or Clumsy Idiot. Take your pick."

Gwen giggled and Merlin smiled. It was almost like being back with Will.

"I don't remember ever seeing you around here before. Are you visiting someone?"

"No, you see, the thing is…" he paused and Gwen leaned closer, curiosity shining in her eyes. "I'm a knight."

The maid snorted, then covered her mouth at the unladylike sound.

"What?"

"I'm sorry, it's just… You don't look like one of those big, muscle-y kind of fellows."

"Thanks," Merlin said, giving her a fake pout.

"No! No, I'm sure you're stronger than you look. It's just, erm... the knights are always real rough, tough, save the world kind of men, and… Well…"

"What?"

"You don't look like that."

Merlin glanced around before motioning for her to move closer. When she did, he whispered, "I'm in disguise."

She giggled again and he smiled, shaking his head.

"I've come to stay with Gaius, the court physician. Honestly, I'm supposed to be running errands for him, but… I don't actually know where I'm supposed to be going."

"Maybe I could help you," Gwen offered, standing up and settling the laundry basket against her hip.

"That would be great, thanks. I'm supposed to be dropping off medicine for Sirs Gregory and Leon."

"Well, Sir Gregory should still be in the knights' quarters, resting, but at this time of day you'd be more likely to find Sir Leon out on the training field." Gwen gave him directions to the knights' quarters and training field and he left with a quick thank you and goodbye, letting her get back to her work.

As Merlin left the training field, he wondered if Gaius would want him to come straight back or if he was allowed to have a look around first. Well, it wasn't like Gaius told him to come straight back, and he wasn't going to leave the citadel. He'd just take a peek around the market and then -

Hands latched onto the back of Merlin's jacket and he was dragged into an empty chamber. The warlock jerked out of his assailant's grip and yelled, "Hey! What's going o-" He froze and grew pale when he turned to see a glaring Prince Arthur. "Oh, hello again."

The prince drew his sword and Merlin stumbled back, only to find himself up against a column. Arthur leveled his sword at the warlock's neck and asked, "What are you doing here?"

"Well," Merlin chuckled nervously. "Shouldn't you be asking yourself that? You're the one that dragged me in here."

The sword pressed closer and the boy flinched.

"You know what I mean. What are you doing in Camelot?"

"My mother sent me to live with Gaius."

"That's what Gaius said."

Merlin glared at the prince and gestured to the sword. "If you've already talked this over with Gaius, then what's this about."

"Does Gaius know about you? About your magic?"

"Not unless you or my mom told him. And if he does, he certainly hasn't told me he knows."

Arthur nodded. "Then Gaius doesn't have the full story. I want the full story. Why are you in Camelot? Cenred hasn't banned magic and you already said your mother knows about your magic. Why would she send you away from safety to the heart of Camelot?"

"Safety," Merlin snorted. He was glaring again, though not at the prince. "Oh yeah, Cenred loves magic users. He just loves having them dragged down to and chained up in his dungeon. Loves having them trained until they are perfectly obedient. Loves having them muzzled and caged and dragged off to be weapons wherever he wants them. Weapons, not warriors, because of course people with magic are monsters and are less than even horses or dogs. They're just swords to be sharpened and beaten and used until they can't be used anymore. And oh yes, that's only the most powerful magic users, because the weak ones aren't worth training and are better left rotting in the dungeons. And they can't be too powerful either, obviously, because then they can't be controlled. No, they're just rabid animals that need to be put down.

"Safety, yes, that is exactly the word I would use for Cenred. Thank you."

Arthur was stunned. So much so that it took him a moment to realize he'd lowered his sword sometime during Merlin's rant. He swallowed and looked down at his sword.

He'd known Cenred used sorcerers in his army, of course, but it had never occurred to him to think about how he acquired them. He supposed he would have assumed Cenred highered them, like armsmen. Slavery was a horrible practice, one that was not allowed in Camelot. However…

"That's still better than letting sorcerers run around freely, causing chaos." He met Merlin's glare and said, "If you choose to study and use magic, then you have to face the consequences."

"And what about those of us who don't get to choose?" Arthur's expression dropped into one of confusion. "You really think I chose to have magic? Do think I'm that stupid that I would choose to study magic when my choices are between execution and enslavement? I don't even know where I would go to study magic!"

"Then how -"

"I was born like this! That trick I did with the spear to knock over those guys, I've been able to do that since before I could walk. I don't know spells or rituals or whatever else sorcerers do, things just… happen. I make them happen. Do I deserve to be enslaved because I was born a freak? No, I suppose you'd say I deserve to be executed, wouldn't you?"

The boy glared at Arthur, eyes insolent and defiant even as fear began to creep back in.

"Can't you just… not use magic?"

"Can't you just not use your arm?" Arthur tried to respond but Merlin kept on. "I don't mean it being injured and you have to put it in a sling. I mean, just one day you decide not to use your arm at all. You can't even move it. Do you think you could do it? No, you couldn't. You'd go to reach for something out of habit and there it is, you've used it. You'd subconsciously curl your fingers and it's over, you've used it. Your arm twitches and guess what? You've used it. I've tried to not use magic before. I have, and it was the most frustrating time of my life. My magic is just as much a part of me as your arm is a part of you. I can't even imagine what my life would be like without my magic and I don't want to. No more than you would want to imagine a life without your arm."

Arthur was dumbfounded. "That - That doesn't make sense. Magic is evil. For it to be that much a part of you - For you to have been born like that - you-you'd have to…"

"I would have had to have been born evil?" Merlin asked, finishing the prince's thought. "Do you think I'm evil?"

Arthur opened his mouth to answer, only to realize he didn't have one to give. He should say yes. The boy had magic. He was a sorcerer. Everything his father had taught him about magic told him the boy was the scum of the earth, evil to the core, and he needed to be killed before he corrupted the minds of everyone around him and threw the world into chaos.

However - and Arthur would never admit this out loud - this was the boy that had saved his life. Arthur could admit, if only to himself, that the chances he would have made it out of that fight alive without assistance were slim-to-none. The best he probably could have hoped for was a crippling, though survivable injury. Even with the assistance, if the boy hadn't have stayed, if he had fled like anyone with half a brain would have done, who knows what would have happened. Would the knights have found him in time? Would the bandit have returned to finish the job? Despite Merlin's jokes, it was plain to see he hadn't expected to leave the situation with his life, let alone a thank you or reward. He had gambled with his life just to be sure Arthur - Not Prince Arthur or Knight of Camelot Arthur or Nobleman Arthur or Wealthy Arthur, but just Arthur - would survive.

"No."

Merlin jumped at the response and Arthur realized a bit of time had passed while he had been deciding on an answer.

The sorcerer - Was that even what Merlin was? - met the prince's eyes and nodded before glancing down at his sword. "Are you going to kill me?" It was barely more than a whisper, just loud enough that it carried to Arthur's ears.

Arthur looked down at the sword as well before putting it back in its sheath. "I told you: I'm an honorable man and I repay my debts. I have neither seen you do anymore magic nor have you threatened the kingdom. As such, our deal still stands and you may walk away with your life. Just…don't make me regret this."

Merlin studied him, as if trying to determine if he was telling the truth. He must have found what he was looking for because he relaxed slightly and gave a small smile. "I won't. Thank you… Your Highness."

The last part was added a bit after the rest, an afterthought, but Arthur didn't bring it up. He just glanced away from the person who made his world flip upside down and waved his hand.

The boy took it as the dismissal it was and fled the room.

Merlin spun his spoon around in his soup as he thought over his conversation with Arthur. "Gaius?" When the man in front of him hummed to show he was listening, Merlin asked, "Studying magic is banned here, right?"

Gaius looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. "Of course. Uther banned all such work twenty years ago. You're not thinking of…"

"No! No. No, I-I was just wondering why?"

Gaius frowned down at his soup before meeting Merlin's gaze. "People used magic for the wrong end at that time. It threw the natural order into chaos. Uther made it his mission to destroy everything from back then, even the dragons."

"What? All of them?"

"There was one dragon he chose not to kill, kept it as an example. He imprisoned it in a cave deep beneath the castle where no one can free it."

Merlin frowned and glanced to the side, remembering the voice from nowhere he had heard that morning. Could it be… No, that was impossible.

"Now, eat up. When you've finished, I need you to take a preparation to Lady Helen. She needs it for her voice."

Merlin…

This was probably the stupidest thing he's ever done. He was walking about a part of the castle he's pretty sure he's not aloud to be in, following a voice he's pretty sure is in his head, and for what reason? In the hopes of meeting a dragon he's pretty sure doesn't exist. This probably ranks up there with saving the life of a prince who turned out to be a prat about how he chose to save his life, though thankfully not so much of a prat as to kill him for it.

Merlin…

"Merlin."

Think of the devil.

Merlin paused - three steps down the creepy, pitch-black staircase he had somehow decided was a good idea - and turned to see Arthur staring down at him with crossed arms.

"What are you doing here?"

Arthur narrowed his eyes.

"Hey, I actually managed to ask you first this time!"

"I spotted a certain someone skulking about the castle in the middle of the night and followed him to the dungeons since it's my duty to keep him out of trouble. For some insane reason I've decided to let him live and therefore any trouble he causes is on my conscience. Your turn."

"I'm… taking a midnight stroll?"

"Through the dungeons? Tell me, Merlin, would you like me to show you what the inside of a cell looks like? Do I even want to know what you did to get rid of the guards?"

"I didn't attack them! I just tossed their dice down a hallway with - On second thought, no, you don't want to know."

"What are you doing down here?" the prince growled. "No more lies."

Merlin…

The warlock flinched and shifted nervously. "Did you know there's supposed to be a dragon down here?"

"You're after the dragon?"

"No! Well, yes, kind of. I think he's calling me."

"You think the dragon is calling you?"

"Yes, I can hear this voice in my head -"

"You're hearing voices in your head?"

Merlin blushed. "Not-not like that! I think it's a magic thing!"

"You're using magic?"

"Not me! The dragon! He's using magic to call for me and so I'm playing along so he'll stop! Alright! Are you happy?"

"You do realize you sound completely insane, correct?"

"Yes, yes I do! Thank you for pointing it out," Merlin groaned turning back to the stairs. They suddenly seemed like a much better option than this conversation.

"Where are you going?" Arthur's voice called, followed by the stomping of his feet as he trailed after Merlin.

"We've been over this already."

"You do realize that this breaks our agreement, correct?"

"How does this count as you seeing me do magic?"

"This counts as you threatening the kingdom."

"How does me coming down here to tell the dragon to shut up so I can sleep count as threatening the kingdom?"

"I - That's - The dragon…"

Merlin could feel Arthur's glare on his back as the prince failed to come up with a reason.

The two made one last turn and came out into a large cavern. Merlin gasped at the size, but Arthur just glanced around with an upturned nose.

"I don't see a dragon," he pointed out.

Merlin turned to glare at the prince, but it was cut short as a laugh echoed through the cavern.

"Where are you?" Merlin questioned at the same time that Arthur yelled, "Show yourself!"

There was a roar and both prince and sorcerer jumped back as the dragon came to land on a platform a short way from their outcropping. On instinct, Arthur drew his sword as he looked up into the face of the giant beast.

And here he was thinking "The Great Dragon Under the Castle" was just a story the knights and Morgana would tell him to scare him when he was little.

"I'm here," the beast had said when it landed. It could speak! Maybe Merlin wasn't as crazy as he sounded.

The Great Dragon glanced over them as he settled down onto the platform. "How small you both are for such a great destiny."

"Why? What do you mean? What destiny?" Merlin asked. Never mind, the boy was absolutely insane. He was taking this all in far too easily.

"Your gift, Merlin, was given to you for a reason."

"So there is a reason," Merlin muttered under his breath.

The dragon seemed to hear it all the same though as he nodded and turned his eyes on Arthur. The prince flinched and raised his sword defensively, but neither he nor it moved to attack.

Instead, the dragon chuckled at him and stated, "You, young prince, are the Once and Future King who will unite the land of Albion."

Arthur's jaw dropped. Future King, sure. He was the heir to Camelot after all. But Once and Future King ? Uniting Albion ? Was Arthur the only one sane in this cavern?

"Right," Merlin said, not sounding much more convinced than Arthur.

"But you face many threats from friend and foe alike."

That wasn't news. He was prince, heir to the throne. People were always making threats on his life. Just the other day a sorceress had threatened his life when her son was executed. How did Merlin fit into this though? Or was he a threat? Or was the dragon just insane? Probably that last one.

"I don't see what this has to do with me," Merlin voiced Arthur's thoughts.

"Everything. Without you, Arthur will never succeed. Without you, there will be no Albion."

"Wait, why would I need his help? He's a sorcerer! I should have him executed!"

"But you haven't," the dragon pointed out, taking on that smug tone of someone who knows something you do not. Arthur hates that tone. It was Morgana's favorite.

"No. No, Arthur's right. You've got this wrong," Merlin agreed.

"There is no right or wrong, only what is and what isn't."

"But I'm serious! He wants to kill me! The only reason he hasn't yet is because it would hurt his honor or some other such nonsense."

Arthur glared at the sorcerer. "That nonsense is keeping you alive so I would show some respect."

"See!" Merlin exclaimed, waving his hands in Arthur's direction, but the dragon just laughed.

"He wishes to kill you no more than you wish to kill him, young warlock. None of us can choose our destiny and none of us can escape it."

"Warlock? Is that what he is?" Arthur asked, receiving a nod from the dragon.

"No. No way. No. No. There must be another Arthur because this one's an idiot."

"Excuse me," Arthur growled.

"Perhaps it's your destiny to change that," the dragon chuckled before flying off.

"Idiot?"

Merlin flinched before smiling at him. "At least I know you don't want to kill me."

"Trust me, I want to kill you a lot, which really makes me question your intentions," the prince continued to growl. He sheathed his sword before snatching the torch from the sor- warlock and stomping back the way they'd come. He'd leave the crazy boy with his crazy dragon. Maybe then Arthur's life could get back to normal.

Merlin never could understand how things could go out of control so quickly.

One moment he's having a simple conversation with Gwen, blushing as he realized he had been right before. It was a lot like his conversations with Will. Too much so considering he'd only known Gwen for not even two days and really didn't know how to respond.

The next moment he's saving Arthur's life (again) with magic (again) and Arthur's glaring at him like he's going to kill Merlin (again).

"You know, next time I can just let you get impaled," Merlin muttered under his breath as the court politely clapped for his new appointment as Arthur's manservant.

Arthur surreptitiously elbowed him in the gut.

#merlin #merlin bbc #merlin emrys #Arthur Pendragon #arthur knows #fts story

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