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bitsandbobsofwriting · 3 years

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Kilgharrah: “Kill that child, Merlin.”

Merlin (like a normal person): “No?? What the fuck???”

And with that, everything changed.

Part 2 Part 3(final part)

“You must let the boy die.”

Kilgharrah’s voice echoed incessantly through Merlin’s head for days after the Druid boy’s appearance, and subsequent disappearance.

Merlin had, of course, ignored the scaly old bastard, and hadn’t once questioned if he’d done the right thing by hiding Mordred away in his tiny bedroom.

If the boy truly had such a terrible destiny, then the best thing for Merlin to do was to keep him close, if not to steer him away from his fate, then to at least be able to see it coming if it was indeed inevitable.

Currently, Morgana was the only one aware that Mordred was still here (other than Gaius of course, who was somehow disapproving and proud at the same time). As far as everyone else was concerned, Arthur and Uther included, the boy was never found, and must have slipped out of the city somehow (going by the extra patrols in the woods, as opposed to the castle and town).

The Warlock was nervous about anyone knowing at first, but when Morgana had tearfully thanked him for saving Mordred, and proceeded to sneak in spare blankets, food, and money for clothes, Merlin was glad for the co-conspirator.

The boy was currently curled up in the corner of Merlin’s room, a pile of blankets and pillows organised like a bird’s nest around him, wearing a soft shirt and sleeping the night away.

Merlin watched him from his bed, realising with growing horror just how protective of Mordred he had already become. He was so young. How could Merlin even consider punishing a child for some stupid destiny he didn’t even know about?

He had to think of a solution quickly. He couldn’t risk sending him away, not even to the Druids, they were as much slaves to the so-called prophecies as Kilgharrah was, and Merlin had once been (”Gods. Sounds like I’ve been dealing with destiny for years. It’s been like six months. I’m too young for this shit.”). But equally... what could he do with him??

Thankfully, no one had really gotten a good look at the boy, so hopefully with a change of clothes and a haircut, he wouldn’t be recognised, at least not if Merlin came up with a convincing enough story.

To be honest... the cover story worried him far more than the prospect of someone recognising him. Uther hadn’t recognised Nimueh, the woman who had been his court sorceress for years... the man was apparently not very observant.

In the end, it was a throwaway comment by Morgana a few days later, about a week after the Druid boy had “escaped” that gave Merlin a very stupid idea. So stupid, that it might just work.

Morgana had once again snuck away from the main castle to sit with Merlin and Mordred in the servant’s room.

Gaius had said nothing as she’d entered the Physician’s chambers, enough food for four hidden away in the picnic basket she carried, just raised his eyebrow slightly, and thanked The Lady for the food offering that was definitely-not-a-bribe.

She gave him a quick wink, and the old physician rolled his eyes fondly as he set an overturned bucket in front of the door; if anyone came in, they would come in loudly.

Mordred was happy to see her, and Merlin hid a fond smile at the boy’s quiet giggles. He still didn’t speak much, so it was a relief to see him finding joy in something, even if it was clandestine visits from Uther’s ward.

She ruffled his hair slightly, resisting the urge to pull the touch averse boy into a tight hug, and set the basket on the bed. Merlin sat against the pillows, and Morgana sat down opposite him, the basket in between them as Mordred clambered up to sit just in front of Merlin.

Morgana and Merlin talked quietly as they ate, Mordred staying silent as the adults (or...as adult as they could get. Like Merlin kept thinking to himself, he was too young for this shit at sixteen, and Morgana was only two years older than him) avoided the elephant in the room.

The elephant being that they couldn’t keep this up forever. Arthur had a habit of bursting in whenever he so pleased, and it was a miracle he hadn’t done so already. Plus, it would be cruel to expect Mordred to stay cooped up in here for much longer. He was a child, he deserved to play outside and explore and do all the other things he couldn’t do in Merlin’s bedroom.

Once they finished eating, Mordred moved to his makeshift bed in the corner, tightly clutching a book that Morgana had bought him, and furrowing his brows in concentration as he read.

Morgana stared at him with a soft smile, and Merlin sighed, once again worrying about his new ward’s future.

Morgana tilts her head, as if a sudden thought had occurred to her, and looks slowly between Merlin and Mordred as the servant raises a questioning eyebrow at her.

“You know Merlin, the two of you look remarkably similar.”

Mordred is engrossed in his book, and doesn’t react at all to Morgana’s quiet comment, but Merlin’s eyebrow goes even higher as he huffs out a laugh:

“You think? I don’t see it.”

Morgana looks at him with a deadpan expression:

“Merlin, you don’t have a mirror in here. I’m fairly certain you have no concept of what you look like.-”

Merlin looks indignantly offended for all of two seconds before he sighs and nods, she’s right to be fair. He’s tall-ish, with pale skin, and he thinks he has brown hair. That’s about all he knows.

Morgana chuckles as she once again looks at Mordred:

“You both have very dark hair, bright blue eyes, pale skin. You know...-”

She looks back at him with a thoughtful frown on her face:

“-if someone told me you were brothers... I’d believe it.”

Merlin raises an eyebrow:

“Really?”

She nods decisively:

“Yeah. I mean, the more I think about it, the more I look between you, yes. You could definitely be related.”

Merlin nods his head slowly, thinking. He takes in a deep breath and tilts his head slightly:

“It could work. I haven’t really talked to anyone about my family so... we could say that... he came to live with me? Because life here is... good?”

Morgana snorts slightly, rolling her eyes before looking back at him seriously:

“You’d have to be more convincing than that. You could say that the harvest was poor in your village? That Mordred was better off coming to stay with his big brother in the big city?”

Merlin nods at her words, grimacing slightly as he mutters:

“If we’re running with the whole... brother thing, I need to write a letter to my mum, just in case. Gods she’s going to laugh so much.”

Morgana laughs at him quietly, but the noise finally catches Mordred’s attention and he looks up in confusion. Merlin moves the basket to the floor, and gestures to the boy to come over.

He walks over wordlessly, climbing up to kneel between them, biting his lip nervously.

“Is it time for me to leave, Emrys?” echoes through Merlin’s head, and he gives the boy a comforting smile, shaking his head slightly, before saying out loud:

“You’re staying with me, Mordred-”

The boy smiles slightly as he stares at Merlin in reverence, and Morgana quickly hides her questioning gaze. She could see that there was more between them than simple protectiveness over a child, and thankfulness for being saved, but she kept her thoughts to herself as Merlin continued:

“-but we can’t keep you hidden in here forever, so we’re going to tell people that you’re my younger brother, come to live with me. Is that alright?”

Mordred nods his head vigorously, and Merlin chuckles slightly as the boy’s grin grew:

“Ok. We’ll get you a haircut and tell Gaius the plan. Probably wait a few more days for things to settle down further, and then see how it goes, ok?”

Mordred nods once more, smile not leaving his face. Morgana bites her lip to stop herself from laughing at Merlin’s shocked face when the boy threw himself into the servant’s arms for a tight hug.

Merlin spends the next few days teaching Mordred all about Ealdor and his mother and Will, so that the boy could have at least a little knowledge on what was supposedly his home and family.

The next time Morgana came to visit, she brought a comb and a sharp pair of scissors, as well as a few more changes of clothes that looked less... Druid. By the time she left that evening, Mordred had much shorter hair, and a wide grin on his face at the prospect of finally being able to go outside (he was Druid after all, he needed trees and fresh air).

The letter had been sent home, and Merlin was expecting a reply any day now. The only thing left to worry about was how to hide Mordred’s Druid marking. It would be easy to cover with clothes, but Uther’s increasing paranoia meant that it would be best if they could find a more permanent solution.

Gaius suggested some sort of glamour spell fairly quickly, but Merlin was unwilling to cast one on the boy until he’d mastered it.

And THAT meant showing up to serve Arthur with ink all over his hands that he had tried and failed to cover.

Merlin had also realised with dawning horror, that he would have to tell Morgana the truth. She knew about the marking, and she was smart, there was no way that hiding it wasn’t something that had occurred to her. She would bring it up eventually, and how could Merlin explain without having to... explain??

Morgana was already risking her favour with the King, and frankly, her life, by protecting a Druid... she would do the same for Merlin, right? But Mordred hadn’t actually done any magic... BUT she’d always spoken against executions... BUT Merlin had lied and hidden it from her, his friend...

Hmm...

In the end, he’d decided he would just have to suck it up, and tell her. Fuck whatever that dragon said. After Kilgharrah’s last round of... advice, Merlin had been ignoring his calls. If there was an emergency, the cryptic bastard would tell him, and until then he could just sulk in that cave on his own.

That two weeks was also enough for Uther to become convinced that the mysterious Druid boy really was long gone, and to just forget about it. He was pissed of course, but talking about it and extending the search just highlighted that a child, barely eleven summers, had managed to evade all of his forces and that... did not cast him in a good light.

It took Merlin about two weeks to fully master the spell, which was longer than the three of them were hoping, but he was adamant that he perfect it before he cast it on Mordred, and Gaius was incredibly impressed at his ward’s determination.

Morgana was of course confused about why they kept pushing it back, she thought they were only going to wait a few days before they started introducing Mordred, but she trusted Merlin and saw no harm in waiting a little longer.

When Morgana arrived that evening, she could tell that Merlin was... anxious. They’d agreed on a specific day to make introductions but it wasn’t until the end of this week, it didn’t make any sense for Merlin to suddenly be nervous about it.

Mordred wasn’t quite as good at hiding his emotions, and didn’t even giggle like he normally did when Morgana came over, just stared at his “brother” anxiously.

Morgana rolled her eyes and huffed as she shut the door:

“Alright, Merlin. What is it? Spit it out.”

Merlin opened his mouth, about to come out with an excuse, before he snapped it shut again and took a deep breath.

It worried him, how easy, how automatic it was for him to lie, but that was a worry for another time.

Mordred reached up and took his hand, squeezing it, and Merlin looked down at him with a weak smile before sitting on the bed and gesturing that Morgana join him.

She looked at him worriedly, but settles where he gestures, and doesn’t acknowledge the way Mordred sits defensively between them.

The boy looks back at Merlin:

“Are you sure, Emrys?”

Merlin gives him another smile, and squeezes his shoulder slightly as he raises an eyebrow:

“I’m sure. And you need to get used to calling me Merlin at some point.”

Mordred pouts slightly, and Merlin ruffles his hair as he laughs, before looking back up at Morgana’s questioning stare.

He takes another deep breath, before slowly speaking:

“I... we’ve found a way to properly hide Mordred’s marking.”

Morgana looks taken aback, but relieved:

“Oh. Is that all? That’s good isn’t it? I have to admit, it was worrying me.”

Merlin gulps:

“Yeah it... it is good... it’s just, it involves... magic.”

Morgana raises her eyebrow, and nods slowly, as if it were obvious:

“I figured it would be. It’s not like it would be easy or reliable to cover it with make-up every morning, or hide it with clothes.-”

It’s Merlin’s turn to look taken aback now, and Mordred fixes her with an unreadable expression. Morgana continues:

“-The problem, lies in finding someone willing to do whatever spell it is. Someone we could trust wouldn’t share the secret, no matter what.”

Merlin grimaces slightly, more gulping, and taking yet another deep breath:

“We already have someone. Me.”

Morgana gasps slightly, and she’s vaguely aware of the brothers in front of her tensing up, but all she can focus on is the gold of Merlin’s irises.

The gold fades, and Merlin clears his throat, breaking her out of her stupor. She reaches over and punches Merlin harshly on the arm before getting up and beginning to pace, speechless.

Merlin and Mordred panic at first, but when she makes no moves towards the door in her pacing, they relax. That only lasts for a moment or two however, before she looks back to Merlin, furious:

“Are you thick Merlin? Why on earth would you learn magic in Camelot of all places?? Do you have a death wish!?”

Merlin laughs slightly, cheeks turning pink as he rubs the back of his neck:

“Actually uh... I was born with magic; I’ve always had it. My mother sent me here because she thought I would learn to control it better.”

Morgana looks incredulous as she continues to rant:

“What? With the fear of execution hanging over your head?! That’s not control, that’s terror.”

Merlin shrugs:

“It works though. My magic is mostly instinctual, the threat of torture by pyre sure as hell stops me from losing control when I’m angry or scared or whatever...”

Morgana huffs, crossing her arms and fixing him with a glare. Both Merlin and Mordred cower slightly as they are reminded of angry and disproving mothers; as if they were about to be scolded for getting their clothes dirty, or ruining their dinner with too many snacks.

She just stares at him for a minute, before she sags slightly, and begins chuckling at the boys’ fearful faces:

“You are ridiculous. But it’s far too late to persuade you to leave now. Does Arthur know?”

Merlin’s face morphs into a mournful frown, as he looks to the floor and mumbles:

“No. I wish I could tell him but... with Uther...”

Morgana sighs, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder:

“Uther won’t be here forever. We’ll just have to keep Arthur from turning into too much of a prat before he becomes King.-”

Merlin laughs at that, and looks up to give the woman a grateful smile. She returns his smile before continuing:

“-So, you can do the spell?”

Merlin winces slightly and gestures for Mordred to pull the collar of his shirt down, to reveal a blank patch of skin:

“I’ve actually already done it. It’ll stay there permanently until I take it off. Though we should keep checking, just in case.”

Morgana looks surprised, and smiles:

“What’s the problem then?-”

She rolls her eyes when Merlin looks at her incredulously:

“-Oh, come on Merlin. I’m not going to turn you in, you’re safe with me. You both are, and you always will be.”

The servant jumps up to give her a tight hug, which she quickly returns as Mordred nervously joins in. Morgana smiles to herself, and squeezes her boys tighter.

She may love Uther and Arthur, and she knew they loved her back, in their own way, but this? This was family.

The time finally came for Merlin to introduce his baby brother. Hunith had supposedly dropped him off late last night and left immediately, having to get back home quickly.

Morgana had gone to gather Gwen and Arthur whilst Merlin and Mordred waited in their room (it was definitely their room now, instead of just Merlin’s).

It was early in the morning, and to say that Arthur was grumpy at being woken by Morgana instead of Merlin, was an understatement.

But he eventually caved, and dressed himself as he grumbled, allowing Morgana to drag him to meet Gwen (who was equally confused) before the three of them made their way to the Physician’s chambers.

Gaius was suspiciously absent, and Morgana knocked on Merlin’s door, before slowly opening it and walking in, Arthur and Gwen following her quickly.

Gwen was surprised at the sight of Merlin stood behind a child, hands protectively on his shoulders, but smiled and gave Mordred a soft wave in greeting.

Arthur however, froze, and stared at the boy with a shocked expression.

Morgana moved to stand next to Mordred, and took one of his hands as Merlin began to speak:

“Gwen, Arthur, I want you to meet my baby brother, Mordred. He’s come to live with me.”

Gwen waved again, and bent over to Mordred’s height:

“Hi Mordred, I’m Guinevere, but all my friends call me Gwen. I didn’t know that Merlin had a brother, but it’s lovely to meet you.”

Mordred gave her a small smile, and Merlin suppressed a chuckle as-

“I like her, Em- Merlin.”

-echoed through his head.

Arthur’s gaze moved away from Mordred finally, up to Merlin.

Merlin stared back at him blankly, but Arthur saw the way his jaw clenched as he moved a protective hand down, to pull Mordred closer to him.

The Prince let out a deep sigh, growling slightly as Gwen looked at him in confusion, and Morgana and Merlin stared at him challengingly.

He shook his head as his shoulders sagged, and he rubbed at his eyes with the palms of his hands before looking back to Mordred with a strained smile:

“It’s nice to meet you, Mordred. My name’s Arthur.”

With that, Morgana smirks slightly, and Merlin relaxes. Gwen just rolls her eyes:

“Sorry about him Mordred, he doesn’t spend much time around people your age.”

Mordred gives her another smile, and Merlin glances to Gwen, before looking down at Mordred:

“Why don’t you go with Morgana and Gwen to see the city a little? Me and Arthur need to talk, I’ll catch up with you later, ok?”

Mordred turns around quickly, and grabs Merlin’s hand tightly:

“You promise??”

Gwen holds in an “awww” and Morgana hides her smile. Mordred rarely talks aloud (she’d been told of the mental link), but she’s glad to see he was feeling at least a little more comfortable.

Merlin crouches down, and pulls the boy into a tight hug, stroking his hair slightly as he stares straight at Arthur:

“I promise. I’ll never leave you for long Mordred.”

Arthur gulps at Merlin’s hard stare, but gives him an almost imperceptible nod, which Merlin returns as he stands up. Mordred gives him one more look as he takes one of Morgana’s hands, and one of Gwen’s, and follows them out of the room.

Morgana shuts the door quietly, and Arthur sighs again before looking at Merlin:

“What are you thinking Merlin?? You just thought I wouldn’t notice?”

Merlin crosses his arms, his glare still hard:

“No, I knew you would notice, I just had faith that you’re a better man than your father.”

Arthur is still deep in his “my father can do no wrong” faze, and takes great offense at that, taking a threatening step forward and growling:

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Merlin just huffs and raises an eyebrow slightly:

“I had assumed that you were not the type of man to have a child executed, just for existing.-”

Merlin copies Arthur’s step forward, raising his chin and continuing, his voice low and dangerous:

“-Did I assume correctly? Because there is nothing I wouldn’t do to protect that kid, Arthur. Nothing.”

Arthur stares at him incredulously, only managing to hold Merlin’s surprisingly confident stare for a few moments, before nodding and stepping back:

“Of course. He’s a child, Merlin, I won’t see him hurt, if I can help it.”

Merlin nods slowly, not looking away from Arthur as he softly says:

“I’ll hold you to that.-”

He walks around The Prince, opening the door and stepping halfway through before looking over his shoulder, and quietly saying to a confused Arthur:

“-If you truly believed that all magic is evil, and always corrupted, no matter what, then you wouldn’t care that he’s a child; you’d want him dead anyway. So perhaps think about your... prejudices, a little more deeply, maybe you’ll discover you are different to Uther in other ways as well.”

Before Arthur can even really process what Merlin said, the servant is shutting the door behind him, and rushing off to find his new brother.

OK SO!!!

I really LOVED writing this, there will definitely be more parts, I just figured I should end it here before I got carried away

This series is finished!! (Links at the top <3 )

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unnecessarywriting · 3 years

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Tolerate It - Harry Potter (Part 1)

Request: Ohhh do i have a request for you!! Harry x reader one shot or a serie idk based on tolerate it by taylor swift. The drama, tears, fight, angst, but eventually cute and fluffy needy Harry🥰🥰

A/N: Sorry that I had to repost your request like this. Tumblr has been giving me problems. Also, I assumed you meant Harry potter but if you meant styles just let me know and I can write a new one. I hope this is good, and I will try to get part 2 out as soon as possible. Thank you for reading, and please don’t hesitate to request something!

P.S I know this part is really angsty but it will get better in the second part.

Tolerate It

His warmth was something you cherished. Yes, past tense. The last time you felt it was that horrid day. That was the day that everything changed. Sometimes you wonder if you were wrong all along. He held onto you so tight, you thought you might never breathe again. You haven’t felt that in months. The funerals have gone by, and tears were shed for your friends. You wondered if he felt guilty, or maybe even lost, but whenever he was with anyone else, he seemed fine. Hell, even when he was alone, he seemed perfectly fine. He wasn’t grieving anymore. The pain he felt had dulled, and you were left out in the cold.

He would write to his friends often, and you stood outside of the door. You would watch the quill delicately run across the page as he wrote about everything he was feeling. You didn’t have the same ability. All you had was Harry, and that was all you felt you needed. You were always by his side, and you worshipped the ground he walked on. Not because he was the “Chosen One” but because he was the love of your life. You used to be his. You still believed you were, but he had been distant.

Mornings in your house consisted of you waking up first. You would wait a while to get up so you could watch his face relax into the peace that you haven’t felt in too long. His body no longer wrapped around yours. You would fall asleep cold, and you would wake up with shivers. His comfort was no longer there. The only saving grace was his shirts that you managed to take away from him. He no longer placed them out for you, instead you needed to take them from the laundry. You would eventually get up and cook breakfast for two. Some mornings, he would come out on his own and sit down at the table, observing your movements. Other mornings, you would carefully walk back into your bedroom and wake him, telling him that breakfast is ready for him.

Then, the two of you would go to work, unless it was the weekend. Those days, you would try to organize some activities to do together, but he typically made plans with Ron. At night, you were typically home first, so you would start dinner, trying to have it on the table for his return. If he came home before you were done, he would go into the study to finish some ministry paperwork, or that’s what you told yourself. Your dinners would be quiet. You would sometimes ask him about his day, or his plans for the weekend. His replies were short. There was no need for him to disclose every detail of his day to you, but you would always wait for the return of the question. Once, you talked about your day, but he would just nod his head at your words as he ate. After dinner, he would return to the study, until he was ready to go to bed. Some nights, you would stand at the door watching him work, and you would eventually tell him of your plans to go to bed. Sometimes, he would offer you a glance and a nod, but those were few. For a while, you considered this to be the way that domestic life worked. You two no longer had to deal with the dark evil forces that taunted you in your school days. It wasn’t until one night at the Burrow that you learned about your mistakes.

You two were invited for dinner with the Weasley clan, as a way to just be together in a time of loss. You were excited to get out of the house and be with other people. It wasn’t often that you were with your friends. They were typically with Harry, but he made it painfully clear that you weren’t needed in their interactions. You always wrote if off as time away from you, which you could understand, but it still hurt to not see everyone as often as you used to. It was a part of growing up. That is what you told yourself on a daily basis. You love Harry, and he loved you.

When you arrived at the Burrow, you offered to help Molly with dinner. It was something that you had grown used to doing since living with Harry. A part of you enjoyed all of the cooking and cleaning, but you also wished there was an ounce of appreciation from the man you shared a bed with. She declined your offer politely, and you were almost nervous to return to the living room with the others. You couldn’t explain why, but something about the welcoming, warm atmosphere in the Burrow made you uncomfortable. When you walked in, you could see that Ginny was in deep conversation with Harry. Hermione and Ron were sitting as close as they could without Hermione using Ron as a chair. You walked over to Harry and sat down. You kept your head slightly down. You weren’t really listening to the conversations around you, but you did hear a few comments from Ginny.

“I can’t believe you had to do that! Harry that’s absolutely ridiculous. When I read that in your letter, I thought you had been drinking and made it all up. You’re a madman.” She seemed to know more about your boyfriend’s endeavors more than you did. His response, however, set off a few alarms in your head.

“C’mon, I would never drink and write a letter to you.” His playful tone made you curl up into yourself. Luckily, Molly announced that dinner was ready. Throughout the meal, you were quiet. You were trying to process the emotions that were bubbling up, but you didn’t even know what to think. All that time in his study was spent talking to another woman. Yes, they were briefly together at some point, but you never considered that he would ever want to leave you. You continued to remain as an observer for the night. Arthur and Molly were perfect. He would compliment her shamelessly throughout the night. He thanked her for dinner and offered to help her clean up, but Molly was stubborn and pushed him away, but not without a kiss. That was what you wanted with Harry. That was what you deserved, but here you are, just being there for him.

That night, you crawled into bed without him. You let the tears fall down, knowing that you needed to talk to him about your relationship. It pained you greatly, but you knew it had to be done.

The following morning, you made breakfast as per usual, but you didn’t eat with Harry. You left a note with his food saying you had an early appointment. He wouldn’t care, you thought. It was true though. Before you fell asleep the night before, you had made a call to an old friend who was in need of a roommate. When you told her that you think it may be over with Harry, she was very understanding, plus, she could use the money for rent, so she was ready to offer you the place right away. You spent the morning looking at the apartment and the room, which would be yours if things with Harry didn’t go well. She hugged you and wished you luck as you went to your job.

That night, you returned home and cooked dinner. You made sure everything looked as good as possible. The door opened, and in walked Harry. He looked around and caught sight of you at the kitchen counter nursing a glass of wine. He shed his coat and walked over to the dinner table. You didn’t sit down with him.

“Aren’t you coming to eat,” he questioned. Your hands were shaking.

“Tell me Harry. Have I wasted my time here with you?” His head snapped to you, slightly angry.

“Excuse me?” His accusing tone set something off in you.

“Everyday, I make you meals. I ask you about your day. I wait around for you. I try to get your attention. And every single day I am left on the outside. No gratitude, no conversation. I would be surprised if you even knew what I do for a living. Harry, you write letters to your ex with so much enthusiasm, and you leave me untouched. Do you know what it feels like to love someone so much that you are willing to suffer through this torture? The emotional turmoil? So tell me Harry, do you even love me anymore? Or have I wasted all this time on someone who just tolerates having me around?”

He was silent for a moment, registering everything you said.

“What does Ginny have to do with any of this? I’m allowed to write letters to my friends. It’s not my fault that you’re jealous. I am here almost everyday. I occasionally go out with friends without you present. You’re just clingy.” You scoffed at his response.

“Merlin Harry! Do you even hear yourself? You can be so dimwitted sometimes. You treat me like I am your servant. I’m not an elf. I am your girlfriend. You told me you loved me, but clearly that was only temporary.”

“Don’t start with this ‘you don’t love me’ bullshit. If I didn’t we wouldn’t be living together. You can be so insufferable sometimes Y/N. I need time away from you, and all you want to do is be there with me. ‘Harry let’s do this. Harry let’s do that. Harry come eat. Harry, how was your day? Who were you with?’ I can’t deal with these questions all the time. Why do you think I spend so much time in my study? I need to be away from you and your neediness.” The tears started to set their path down your cheeks.

“Well, then. I guess that answers all of my questions.” You got up and grabbed your bag.

“Where the hell are you going? We had a fight. Get over it and eat with me.”

“You’re getting what you want. I’m leaving you alone, or rather I’m leaving you. I refuse to just be tolerated by someone who is supposed to love me.” You opened the door and looked back at him. “I’ll get my things another time.” With that, you walked out the door, leaving Harry to his own thoughts.

Part 2

#harry potter imagine #Harry potter x reader #harry potter #harry potter imagines #ron weasley #hermione granger #draco malfoy imagine

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spxllcxstxr · 3 years

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The Seven Potters Plan Part 2 • R.L

(Gif not mine)

Request: Nope, just wanted to torture myself with this idea :)

Summary: Read Part 1 here!

Warnings: canon character death, canon Deathly Hallows, cursing, death, grieving, mention of injury and blood, death eaters, Voldemort, just a lot of hurt/angst

Word Count: 1.4k

A.N: Implied that you’re Remus’ age, the two of you are married, why do I think of these things? I’m like 99% sure I made this gender neutral? But if I didn’t like let me know. I know this is angsty, but I hope you all enjoy. Love you all ❤️

EDIT: Like I said in the last part (ugh I hate saying that) this fic had to be broken up into two parts. The starts exactly where it leaves off in the last part.

****

When your feet finally touch the ground, you notice that Hermione looks like herself again.

“Did you see the one that went down?” Hermione pants. “You think it’s—“

“Dead?” Kingsley asks, eyeing you carefully. “What’d you hit it with?”

“I don’t know...” You answer truthfully. “It just...dropped.”

“Harry!” Hermione cries, her body being brought into a hug.

Instinctively you bring your wand up, pointing at the others.

It’s Remus, and you almost falter.

“First thing you said to me on our first date?” You demand, wand trained on his chest.

“Merlin, what are you wearing?” He replies calmly. “But in my defense you looked like you just rolled out of bed.”

“It’s him.” You sigh out in relief, putting your wand back into your pocket. “And to be fair, you asked me out on our first date at twelve in the morning. I did just roll out of bed.”

Remus steps closer to you, arms wrapping around you. Your face buries deep into the crook of his neck, the smell of sweat and a subtle hint of chocolate overwhelming your senses. You almost sob in relief.

“Somebody betrayed us!” Kingsley shouts. “They knew, they knew it was tonight!”

“So it seems.” Remus replies, you pull away from him, but continue to cling onto his hand like before. “But apparently they did not realize there would be seven Harrys.”

“A small comfort!” Kingsley snaps. “Who else is back?”

“Only Harry, Hagrid, George, and me.”

“Not Mad-Eye?” You question nervously. Dread starts to coil down your spine.

Remus shakes his head. “What happened to you?”

The night continues to drag on, everyone recounting their own tales of what happened. The absence of your father continues to wear on you so you pace, occasionally biting at your grimy nails.

But your father was the best Auror the Wizarding world has ever seen. He’s taken out crowds of Death Eaters with his eyes closed, you’ve seen it. One simple ride across the country wasn’t a big deal. You try your best to ignore the cold feeling deep within.

“I’m going to have to get back to Downing Street, I should have been there an hour ago.” Kingsley rises from his seat. “Let me know when they’re back.”

He makes his way towards you, a hand resting on your shoulder. “You did good today, kid.” He smiles.

“Don’t call me kid.” You mutter weakly, trying and failing to reciprocate his smile.

“Hey,” He lightly reassures. “it’s Alastor. He’s fine.”

After a silent nod he walks off into the darkness, Disapparating to his destination.

You continue to pace, feet dragging through the grass as Arthur, Molly, and Ginny come rushing out the house.

“Thank you,” Molly hugs Ron close to her. “for our sons.”

“Don’t be silly, Molly.” Tonks replies.

“How’s George?” Remus asks.

“What’s wrong with him?” Ron pipes up, pulling away from his mother.

“He’s lost—“

A thestral swoops down close to the ground, wings beating rapidly as it lands. Bill and Fleur drop down, looking unscathed.

“Bill! Thank Merlin, thank Merlin—“

Molly cries and goes in for a hug but Bill’s grim face makes her falter.

“Mad-Eye’s dead.”

And everything stops. You go rigid, the chill of your body becoming unbearable and your throat tightens.

Your fears had come true, losing another parent to this stupid war. Your mother had been killed by the Dark Lord himself, her lifeless eyes haunting you ever since.

And now they were both gone.

Tears prick the backs of your eyes, you stare at the redhead in disbelief.

“No.” You mutter, eyes wide and fearful. “No!”

Your knees feel weak and you feel yourself start to collapse. Arms circle underneath your armpits, desperate to keep you up.

“(Y/n), let’s—“

“You’re lying!” You shout, jabbing an accusatory finger at Bill. He winces. “Stop lying to me, where’s my father?” You struggle within your husband’s tight grasp.

“Fuck, Remus, let me go!” You try your best to rip yourself away from in, limbs thrashing in an attempt to hit him away. “I need to find him!”

Remus hushes you, forehead resting on the top of your head.

“He’s my dad, I can’t just—“ Your struggle relents, fists curling around the sleeves of Remus’ coat. “I can’t just leave him.”

“I’m sorry.” Remus whispers above you, his own voice breaking. “I’m sorry.”

“How?” You ask, looking up at Bill, roughly swallowing back tears.

“(Y/n)—“

“How!” You spit, anger once again coursing through your veins.

“We saw it.” Bill croaks, his eyes wet with tears. “It happened just after we broke out of the circle. Mad-Eye and Dung were close by us, they were heading North too. Voldemort—he can fly—went straight for them. Dung panicked, I heard him cry out, Mad-Eye tried to stop him, but he Disapparated. Voldemort’s curse hit Mad-Eye full in the face, he fell backward off his broom and—there was nothing we could do, nothing, we had half a dozen of them on our own tail—“ His voice breaks terribly.

“But you didn’t see him die!” You cry. “He just fell, he might be alive—!”

But Bill just shakes his head.

“He’s gone, (Y/n). Fleur and I saw it, how Dung left and the curse hit him—“

“I’ll kill him.” You mutter, thrashing again in Remus’ arms. “You hear that, Mundungus? I’ll kill you with my bare hands!” You scream up at the night sky. “I’ll fucking kill you, you coward!”

Trying your best to rip away from your husband, you resort to stomping on his feet and clawing at his hands.

It doesn’t work, sadly, Remus’ hold on you never wavers.

“C’mon, let’s go inside, love.” He pleads softly.

In a snap, the fight flees from your body and tears start to fall as you practically go limp in his arms. All you can manage is a weak nod.

You feel the burning stares and hear the faint cries of your friends, but you don’t dare lift your head up from its position buried in Remus’ shirt. He slowly leads you inside, carefully, in case your knees really do give out.

The Burrow is quiet. Clocks tick, George lets out faint whimpers from his sprawled out position on the sofa, and the floorboards creak under your weight, but other than that, it’s quiet.

There’s a dimly lit sitting room on the other side of the bottom floor, and Remus carefully drops the two of you onto the fraying cushions.

You curl up into him, fists tightly clenching his lapels, face buried into his chest. Finally, you open the floodgates, tears staining his shirt in rapid succession, broken wails ripping from your throat.

Fists lightly pound against his chest in frustration.

Remus keeps a hand on the small of your back, rubbing soothing circles over your jacket.

“It’s not fair!” You cry. “It’s not fair! He deserved to live!”

You don’t know how long you sob into Remus, but Bill eventually edges his way into the room.

“His body’s gone.” He states softly, afraid of your reaction.

You head snaps up to him. “Gone? What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Death Eaters, probably.” Bill sighs, stuffing his hands into pockets. “Got to him before we could—“

“Well get him back!” You shout, jumping up from the sofa. Remus follows, holding you back in case you decide to make a break for Bill.

“Who knows where his body may be now, (Y/n)—“

“Well it should be in Plockton with my mum overlooking the Loch!” You seethe. “Find him, alright? You couldn’t save him then, so save him now!”

Bill’s blue eyes flash with hurt, and he takes a step back.

“Right then.” Bill mutters, stepping out into the hallway. “I’ll leave you be, then. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not Bill’s fault, love.” Remus pulls you to his chest, and though you struggle at first, you eventually succumb to the hold. “It’s more than alright to grieve, but this isn’t Bill’s fault. You want someone to blame, blame Voldemort, yeah?”

“I’m sorry.” You mutter. “I’m sorry, I just want him back. It hurts so much, Rem.”

“I wish I could help you, love.” He murmurs into your hairline. “Wish I could just take the pain away.”

“Just holding me helps.” You sniffle.

You listen to his heartbeat and he squeezes you a little tighter.

“I can do that, love. I can do that.”

•

All Character Taglist: @aspiringsloth20 @amourtentiaa @cherie-draco @mullthingsoverinthehotwater

#Remus Lupin #remus lupin x reader #Remus Lupin angst #Remus Lupin imagine #Remus Lupin fanfiction #the marauders x reader

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 3 years

Text

Come Home

Prompts: Omg ur twins series has given me the seratonin I didn’t know I needed ;-; love ur fics!!! can I request maybe a one shot where Merlin confronts hunith about his birth parents, and they have a wholesome talk about it? Also bonus points for Merlin coming to terms with the fact that uther is his father and Morgana is his half sister (everyone notices now that they share similar features) - anon

ahhhh i loved the second installment of the twin series, the ending makes me yearn for more no matter how much i reread it *prompt idea* brotherly love pleaseeee, you've built so much hype 😭 some overprotective arthur over his younger brother, maybe some asshole noble treating merlin like shit because he grew up peasant, a merlin-arthur talk about feelings and new revelations, merlin-morgana-arthur talk (maybe?) take as long as you want really, no pressure i know it'll be worth it but a bit longer third installment please 💘 - anon

I have a very simple request oh ruler of the angst town. You've been graciously filling the stomachs of the Sanders Sides fandom but the Merlin fandom requests one thing: More, please, oh good lord. Thank you - alittletoo-obsessed

SO MANY OF YOU WERE SCREAMING FOR A PART THREE SO HERE YOU GO

Read on Ao3

Warnings: none, babes.

Pairings: it's found family hours

Word Count: 4574

The twins come home.

After a long, long time, the twins come home.

For Arthur, home is that empty space just over his shoulder, always there when he turns absentmindedly to talk to someone he never thought he’d see again. Home is someone to curl up with when the nights get cold and lonely, dark hair brushing under the tip of his nose as he wraps them in his arms. Home is someone else to see what’s happening, to stand as a silent vow of I’m here, I see you, I’m with you, I’ve got you.

For Merlin, home is someone who knows he’s not crazy, who catches him when he flies too high on the wings of his magic. Home is someone who wraps firm, solid arms around him, smelling of slightly spiced fruit and afternoon sun. Home is the space the magic curls about, searching for something to hold onto like an anchor as the world spins faster, faster, faster.

They leave the hall where Uther still sits, thunderstruck on his hollow throne, back to Arthur’s chambers. They don’t part when they get inside, stumbling across the room to the bed, somewhere they can sit and look and look at each other where there is no one else can see. Arthur reaches out to run his hand through Merlin’s hair.

“I always thought your hair would be dark,” he mumbles, losing himself in the way his fingers card through the strands. “Just had a feeling.”

“Mum’s hair was never dark enough to be mine.” Merlin closes his eyes as he feels Arthur’s hand go through it. “And—and Balinor, he—he wasn’t the right magic.”

Arthur’s hand stills. “Balinor was your father?”

“He was married to Hunith, he—but—“

Arthur’s arms are suddenly around him, warm and perfect and real and it feels like something else slots into place. Arthur’s breath warms the top of his head and Merlin feels his fingertips start to buzz.

“I’m sorry,” he realizes Arthur’s saying, “I didn’t—if I’d’ve known, I would’ve—“

They will come to find that they don’t need words. Merlin just buries his nose in the crook of Arthur’s neck and breathes in the smell of home.

“I kept the blanket I was taken in,” he mumbles, “and it smelled like this.”

“Like—like me?”

Merlin nods. “Fruit. Sunlight. Warm.”

“Warm doesn’t have a smell, Merlin.”

“Sure it does.”

“What does it smell like, then?”

“Warm! You don’t explain what apples smell like, they just smell like apple.”

“Sure you can, they smell tart, a little sweet, but it’s a thin smell, it’s not rich.”

“Where and why do you know how to describe smells so well?”

“Morgana went through an alchemy phase, dragged me into being her test subject.”

Merlin snorts, nuzzling deeper into Arthur’s warmth. “I imagine you reeked of an awful assortment of perfumes.”

“Oh, it was an excellent way to get out of court duty.”

They laugh together. Then Merlin quiets, burying his nose in the smell of home and willing his magic to help him come up with something.

“…it’s barely noticeable,” he says quietly, “but it’s…it’s there. It’s slightly, um, it smells a bit like old leather, or old wood, but it’s…it’s earthier.”

Arthur’s quiet for a moment, then Merlin feels his head turn and bury into Merlin’s hair.

“I always thought you’d be colder.” His arms tighten slightly, as if he can feel how Merlin’s magic is trying to pull him closer—and hey, maybe he can. “I—you used to get really strong on winter nights. I used to imagine that you’d—you’d be cold and it was my job to keep you warm and if you were warm, you’d—you’d stay.”

“I’ll stay,” Merlin says immediately, “I’ll stay.”

“You’d better.”

For Arthur, it’s finally seeing that figure sprinting ahead of him, goading him to chase faster and faster. It’s hearing about how cruel bullies were and sternly promising that if anyone ever tries anything like that again, he’ll kick their arse. It’s hearing a mumbles admission of crying while angry and promising that he’ll never judge Merlin for crying, not when he’s here to protect him.

For Merlin, it’s his magic finally having both of them to wrap its blanket around, someone else to hold him firmly when it can’t do the job itself. It’s hearing about how lonely life as a prince can be and vowing that he’s just going to sit next to Arthur and damn all the customs. It’s hearing about the cruelty of a king that didn’t know how to be a father first and muttering that Uther would see what the bloody hell he was doing wrong.

It’s home.

——————————————

News that Uther has another son spreads like a sickness in the castle. Servants whisper that the long-lost boy has returned, that the curse of the dead queen has lifted because her son is back, that finally, finally, Uther will stop the hell-path he’s wrought upon the kingdom.

Servants whisper that the nobles won’t like this. That they’re sick of having to put up with Arthur already, that if there’s another son, they’ll have another obstacle in their path.

Some nobles are clever.

They know that if Uther has a peasant son, he’ll have to make the boy a noble or denounce him completely. Or, and this is not a very likely option, he’ll have to accept that he has one royal son and one peasant son.

Some nobles aren’t clever.

They think that if Uther has another son, it doesn’t matter.

The nobles that know the knights know that they won’t be able to get within ten feet of Merlin. Many of them don’t want to. They’re not quite sure what position Merlin holds in court, but it’s not a manservant’s. They know that the boy who came to Camelot and managed to get the prince to shut up for once is a good one. Some of them hold the opinion that if Uther is what he made his son into, he might actually listen to the boy as well.

The nobles that don’t know the knights are stupid.

One such noble decides that it doesn’t matter whether or not the boy is of royal blood, the king hasn’t claimed him, and thus he is still a peasant.

He decides, in his infinite wisdom, to humiliate the boy by dousing him with wine for forgetting to thank him for giving him an order.

Merlin has been covered with wine before, this isn’t new to him. What is new is that he has a brother that takes great pleasure in dragging the unsuspecting noble to the front of the room and publicly shaming him.

“Have you so little sense of yourself that you must stoop to the humiliation of others for your own amusement? Perhaps if you spent more time thinking of what to do with your words you wouldn’t be so intimidated by the confidence of someone else. I would be surprised to learn if you had a mind since your only defense is to sling wine all over someone’s front. You are a disgrace to everything you proclaim to be and I would be ashamed of you if you were one of my men.”

It’s not the most direct way to banish someone and strip them of their place in court, but it is one of the more entertaining.

Of course, when a noble is demoted to a knight, he ends up at the mercy of the elder knights on the training field. It’s one of the only times Gwaine shows up promptly for a training session.

Merlin mumbles that Arthur didn’t have to do that, that he’s had worse, but later in the privacy of their rooms, Arthur says that he’s making up for the years where he wasn’t there.

“And it wasn’t just for you, it was for the knights too.”

“How noble.”

——————————————

It’s in the way Arthur still tries to turn into the tower corridor that first tips Merlin off. It’s the way his hands still twitch toward an old sword hanging on the wall. It’s the way he turns to his other side, not where Merlin always stands, expecting someone to be there. It’s the way he looks at the other side of Uther’s throne, expecting there to be another one.

It’s the way Merlin knows what feels like to miss another half of yourself.

“I want to find her,” he says quietly after a long day, “she’s your sister.”

Arthur pauses, fingers faltering on the edge of a cabinet. His head bows low.

“She is, Arthur,” Merlin says, standing, “and she’s mine too.”

“I know.”

“There’s still good in her, Arthur, I know there is.”

“I know.”

“I—“ Merlin swallows. “I’m to blame for what she’s become, I’m the one who poisoned her.”

“I’m the one who drove her away from the start,” Arthur says, a rueful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, “I’m not blameless either.”

There’s a pause.

Arthur glances at Merlin. “There was a time when I thought you were her. That the—the person I was missing was her.”

“She’s magic too, it makes sense.”

Arthur nods, staring into space. “But she wasn’t you. Her—I guess I didn’t know it was magic, then, but her—her magic never felt right.”

He turns to take a hunting satchel down from the hook.

“Do you know how to find her?”

“Yes,” Merlin says, “but you’re not coming.”

“What?”

Merlin holds his hands up. “She’ll try to kill you, you know it. She won’t listen to you. Not at first.”

“And she won’t try to kill you? You poisoned her!”

“I have magic. She can’t beat me.”

“Merlin.”

“I’ll be safe!”

“When have you ever been safe in your life?”

“Like you’re in any position to judge!”

The bickering continues until Merlin grabs Arthur’s arm and tells him that he needs to do this. That it has to be him, only him, that he knows how to reach Morgana in a way that Arthur can’t.

Arthur lets him go with a strict promise to be back in a fortnight, no more.

Merlin knows how to find Morgana. Arthur’s connection to magic isn’t like his, but he is born of the stuff. And so is Morgana.

There’s a tingle in Merlin’s fingertips non-stop when he’s in Camelot, his magic tugging him towards Arthur and the magic in him. But Uther’s blood flows in both of their veins, so if he focuses, he can find Morgana.

His travels lead him to a forest home, modest and slight, but secure enough that he knows he can’t just walk in. There are half a dozen places where she could be hiding nearby, half a dozen more where traps could be. So he picks his way carefully through the undergrowth and knocks on her door.

He expects to be knocked out and strung up. He doesn’t expect her to raise an eyebrow and try and bind him with a curse.

He bats the curse away without trying to hide the way his eyes glow gold.

Morgana’s eyes widen and she stumbles back. He raises his hands and weathers the spitting, the curses—just cusses, this time—of his betrayal, how dare he, and apologizes.

“You were the vessel,” he says as his only defense, “I didn’t think there was any other way.”

“And what if you told me?” She draws herself up, looking every bit the queen she was born to be. “I could’ve helped! Perhaps I would’ve taken it of my own free will, you had no right to strip me of that choice.”

“I know. And I am sorry. For all of it. For not telling you, for trying to kill you, for—for everything.”

She evaluates him cooly. “Well, I suppose that’s that, then? You want me to accept your apology and toddle back to Camelot?”

And the thing is…he can see it now.

He and Arthur don’t share that many features, but he and Morgana…

It’s the angular jaw. The way the nose slopes slightly to the right instead of the left. The way one eye is a little bit longer than the other. The dark hair, wavy but not too wavy. The slender build, the sharp shoulders.

The way their magic curls about their fingertips before the spell is cast.

Morgana seems to notice him staring and frowns, snapping her fingers in front of his face.

“Sorry,” he manages, still marveling at how he never noticed, “sorry, I just…”

“Just…what?”

His magic thrums in his hands, telling him to let it go, reach out to their sister, help her see. He obeys, opening his hand and letting the magic swirl up, into the air. Morgana’s eyes widen and she takes a step back, preparing a defensive spell of her own only for her jaw to drop as her magic touches Merlin’s.

It doesn’t feel like coming home, not like finding Arthur did, but it feels like something.

“What…how is this possible?”

“I’m your brother,” Merlin whispers, peering through the lattice of magic, “I—you’re my sister.”

At the word ‘sister,’ something in Morgana’s magic flinches. Merlin frowns, peering closer, eyes widening when he notices a dark patch, almost as if the magic is bruised from being constrained. His own magic touches it carefully, recoiling in shock.

“What is that? Morgana, what happened to you?”

She rubs her wrist absent-mindedly, her face contorting into a scowl. “The last person to call me ‘sister.’”

Merlin’s eyes widen. Morgana retracts her magic, burying it deep inside herself and taking a deep breath. When she looks at Merlin again, she looks almost like the woman Merlin met in Camelot.

“So. That means Arthur’s your brother too.”

Merlin nods. “I was…we were born of the same magic.”

“And that makes Uther your father.”

Merlin's face contorts in rage and Morgana snorts.

“Yes, that was my reaction too.”

“Balinor was my father,” Merlin says firmly, curling his hands into fists, “Uther is not.”

“But you have his blood,” Morgana says quietly, not meaning to hurt, just to inform, “and you are bound to him. Just as I am.”

Now it is Merlin that has to look desperately at Morgana, hoping for it to be anything other than the truth.

“You can’t have Arthur without Uther, Merlin,” she murmurs, “you have to accept that. You can’t have Arthur without Camelot. You can’t have your brother without your father.”

“And what about my sister?”

Her smile is sad. “I had neither for a long time.”

“I just got my sister,” Merlin says firmly, “I’m not letting her go again.”

“Oh, and that’s your decision, is it?”

Merlin blinks. “Um—well, I mean—if—if that’s okay with you—“

Her laugh is high, like pealing bells, and it makes him smile to hear it. “How you manage to switch between those two will always astound me. No wonder no one else ever figured out you had magic.”

“Excuse you, I did a perfectly good job at hiding my magic.”

“Gaius used to scream about it with the door open, Merlin, that’s not exactly subtle.”

“How is that my fault?”

She giggles and oh, is this what it’s like to have a sister?

Their laughter ends and Morgana crosses her arms, head bowed as she thinks. Merlin lets his magic flutter around the room, cleaning up, until she raises her head again.

“Do you think Uther can change?”

Merlin sighs. “I don’t know. But I do know we can change the minds of everyone else.”

“Starting with Arthur, I presume?”

“Arthur. The knights. Most of the council. The servants.”

“Got a plan for this, do you?”

“…not really good at plans.”

“Well, no, not if most of them involve poisoning sisters.”

“Hey!”

Morgana laughs again, then her smile softens and she rushes forward to wrap her arms around Merlin.

“Your magic feels warm,” she mumbles, “not like Morgause’s. Maybe I’ll enjoy being your sister.”

“And Arthur’s?”

“If he can pull his head out of his arse, we’ll see.” She lets him go and walks toward the front of the house.

“Wait! Where are you going?”

“To see if we can both pull his head out of his arse, it’s so big we’ll need the two of us.”

“Right now?”

“Unless you think I should wait?” There it is. The tiniest hint of vulnerability in the way her voice wobbles at the end.

A question of whether Morgana would actually be welcomed back into Camelot, a question of whether Arthur would want her back. A question of how true this fantasy really is.

Merlin straightens. “No,” he says firmly, “let’s just hope the two of us can do it together.”

——————————————

Arthur never thought he’d see his sister again.

But the instant Morgana walks into his chambers, looking as if she’d never left, she barely has time to open her mouth to deliver a snappy remark before he’s rushing across the room and wrapping her in a hug so fierce it makes Merlin laugh.

Morgana laughs at him with some incredibly clever quip but he isn’t listening. He’s too busy hugging his sister. Who’s finally home, who’s finally here.

“…oh, alright, you big softy,” she mumbles, wrapping her arms around him too, “there. Are you happy now?”

“‘Gana.”

“Yes, that’s me. Is your head alright? Merlin, what did you do to him?”

“He’s happy to see his sister, Morgana.”

She sighs dramatically. “Oh, don’t both of you go all sappy on me.”

Arthur just pulls her closer, burying his nose in her neck. “‘Gana.”

There’s a pause. Then: “Oh, Arthur, I missed you too.”

It’s too much. He sticks out his arm and grabs Merlin’s tunic, yanking him closer. Merlin makes a noise of surprise as Arthur bundles them both into the hug. Morgana makes a slightly affronted gesture as she makes room for the two of them, pulling her hair out of the way as Arthur buries his nose between their shoulders.

“I certainly don’t remember him being this clingy, are you sure this is the same Arthur?”

“His head’s certainly big enough.”

“Well, yes, but that’s not exactly the most reliable thing to go on. He’s always been utterly obnoxious.”

“Don’t have to tell me.”

And they’re bickering like siblings and it’s right and it feels right and their magic is here now and he can feel both of them and it’s warm and it makes his chest tingle and—and—

“Oh, oh dear,” he hears Morgana murmur, “Arthur, are you—are you crying?”

“Shh, shh, it’s okay, Arthur, it’s okay.”

“Come, let’s sit down, if you fall over you’ll take the two of us with you.”

“Just try and breathe, it’s okay, we’re not going anywhere.”

Arthur can’t bear to let them go. Not even for an instant. Morgana stays with him, her arms wound tightly around his neck, her fingers scratching lightly through his hair. Merlin sits at his back, his chest warm.

“Come now, you silly man,” Morgana says, trying to keep the tears out of her own voice, “there’s no use crying over this. No man is worth your tears, remember?”

“You’re not a man,” he mumbles, “you’re my sis’er.”

“He’s got a point.”

Morgana sighs. “Oh, Arthur…”

He registers how long’s been crying only when he feels his head start to ring from how stuffy his nose feels. He hooks his chin over Morgana’s shoulder.

“Go on.”

“What?”

“Go on,” he mumbles, “tease me. I know you want to.”

“…I’m not going to tease you, Arthur.”

“Really? All this material and you won’t?”

“Not today,” she murmurs, sounding a little hoarse herself, “not—not today.”

She holds him tighter.

“Not when I’ve just learned I have two brothers.”

He can live with that.

She does tease him later, when he says that he hasn’t missed her at all—a blatant lie, that, and they all know it—or that he’s always been a model of a knight. Of course, she doesn’t have to train with him alone, anymore, she has her pick of the knights. And Merlin.

Because Morgana has magic.

Merlin has magic. Is magic, if the stories are to be believed. And Morgana has always been a quick study.

So sometimes, Arthur will just…watch them. But it’s always that. Just watching.

Merlin is the greatest sorcerer to ever walk the earth. Morgana is a High Priestess of the Old Religion.

What is Arthur?

“You’re pouting, Princess.”

Arthur barely flinches as Gwaine plops down beside him. He does raise an eyebrow as he feels the rest of the knights sit down around him.

“I’m not pouting, Gwaine.”

“Sure you are.” He flicks Arthur’s arm. “You’re pouting.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

Arthur sighs. “And what is it you think I’m pouting over?”

“The fact that you now have to share Merlin with Morgana.”

“That’s not—“

“You’re bright red, Princess, you know I’m right.”

“Enough.”

Lancelot lays a hand on Gwaine’s arm. Gwaine hushes. Percival glances around to make sure there aren’t any other knights near and nods.

“What’s troubling you,” Lancelot asks quietly, “and how can we help?”

“There’s nothing you can do.”

“I don’t believe that for a second.” Elyan sits up a little more. “There’s always something we can do.”

“Not with this,” Arthur mumbles, still watching the two magic users train, “not with this.”

Leon follows his gaze. “Impressive, aren’t they?”

“Mhm.”

“Do you wish you had magic too?”

Damn you, Leon. Damn you.

“…no.”

Leon chuckles softly. “Come now, sire, no need to lie to us.”

“I just—“ Arthur sighs, scrubbing his face with his hands. “It’s fine.”

Leon lays a hand on his shoulder.

“…they’re both…incredible—don’t tell them I said that,” Arthur says sharply.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Gwaine lies.

Arthur sighs again. “I just…I know I was born of magic, but…”

“You don’t have any,” Leon guesses, “not like they do.”

He shakes his head.

“Eh, you don’t need it,” Gwaine says, leaning up against Arthur’s side, “you’re plenty fine without it.”

Arthur’s head whips around to stare at him in shock. Gwaine raises an eyebrow.

“What? You are.”

“Since when do you give me compliments?”

Gwaine shrugs. “’S not about compliments, it’s about the truth. You’re able to do a shit load of things perfectly fine on your own, you don’t need to have magic for it.”

“He’s right, sire,” Lancelot adds, “your skills are a testament to you, not to whatever magic brought you into this world.”

“I’d follow you with or without magic.” Percival stands tall. “Just so happens you don’t have it. Doesn’t make a difference to me.”

“You’re our commander,” Elyan agrees, “that’s that.”

Leon’s hand on his shoulder rubs soft circles, brushing away his protests. He’s not sure if he believes them entirely, not just yet, but maybe…

Maybe one day he will. After all, he thinks with a smile, he’s got some people to help him with that.

He never thought he’d see his sister again.

——————————————

“Mum?”

Hunith turns around and smiles.

“Merlin, come here.”

Merlin rushes forward, wrapping his arms around her in a warm hug.

“Why didn’t you send word you were coming,” she scolds gently, “I would’ve gotten everything ready.”

“I wanted to surprise you!”

“Well, I am surprised. Sit, sit, tell me everything.”

Her son sits, idly toying with his hands. She frowns.

“What’s the matter?”

“I, um…I have a question for you.”

“What is it?”

“Where…where am I from?”

Oh.

Hunith smiles and tells him the story. Tells him of how Balinor arrived one night, a little babe clutched in his arms. How he told her how the queen had two children, one that had to be kept safe away from Camelot. How his magic had reached out to her once she held him, wrapped around them as he fell asleep against her breast.

Merlin listens, tears in his eyes, as she tells him that she loved him from the moment she saw him, that he would always have a home here.

“You’re my mum,” he mumbles, wiping away tears, “and I—you’re always gonna be my mum.”

“Oh, Merlin, come here—“

She holds her son in her arms and thanks the magic of the world that gave him to her.

——————————————

Uther responds about as well as you’d expect.

As in, not at all.

At least, not until he realizes that there are three children who are about to make sure he does what he promised Ygraine he would, and if he doesn’t, they’ll do it for him.

He tries to deny having another son, one that was raised as a peasant, no less, only for Arthur to stand up in court and publicly acknowledge Merlin as his brother.

He tries to deny that Morgana is his daughter, only for Morgana to stand tall and proud by Arthur’s side as they declare their intent to rule as brother and sister.

He tries to deny that not one but two of his children have magic, only for Arthur to open talks with the druids by using his brother and sister with magic as ambassadors.

He tries.

He fails.

He wants to think that he still has his loyal knights, but Gwaine and Percival decide that they’re Merlin’s bodyguards, and Leon and Lancelot won’t leave Arthur’s side. Morgana doesn’t need her own bodyguards, but Elyan and Gwen are never far from her.

He wants to think he still has the support of the Council, but Gaius had stood and given a speech about being so happy to see Ygraine’s children home again and his words had been frozen before he could say anything.

He wants to think he’s still the king. But everyone is starting to look to Arthur, to Morgana, not to him.

Once, and only once, he considers getting rid of the boy.

When he wakes from a terrible nightmare of drowned children, burned houses, and Ygraine’s immortal disappointment, he doesn’t think of it again.

Uther isn’t dragged kicking and screaming from his throne, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t many who’d love to if he gave them the opportunity.

He’s not worth lingering on.

#merlin #merlin bbc #bbc merlin #arthur pendragon #morgana pendragon #dragonbabbles #fic

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ittybittycommitty · 3 years

Text

Part 3 of my BBC Merlin g/t fanfic!

Part 1-Part 2-Part 3

Chapter 3

“Help!” Merlin wakes with a start. Sweat dripping down his face. He could have sworn he had just heard a voice. A woman’s voice, screaming loud in his head. He pulled away his covers and looked down at the room. Gwen was sleeping in the cot below, not showing any signs of consciousness. He sat on his bed for a bit, waiting to see if he would hear it again. Sure enough.

“Someone help me!” The desperation of the voice was crippling to Merlin, who put his hands to his ears in pain. He quickly climbed down from his ledge to investigate. He somehow knew where it was coming from, even if it was in his head.

He traveled across the room, past the sleeping Gwen to the window and squeezed through the crack, dropping onto the street below. He knew this was incredibly dangerous, but the voice was so… scared.

“Find it! Uther will not have any Sprites in his castle!” Merlin looked over and saw knights scouring small corners across the courtyard from him. Was it another Sprite calling out to him? She must be in trouble… He held a hand to his head and focused hard to find where she was.

A picture materialized in his mind, showing her hiding behind a cart near where the knights were searching. He gasped. He had to be quick or she would be found. He slid along a wall and waited for someone to come by, then he jumped by their feet and walked with them across the courtyard. Once across he dashed to the cart and finally saw the sprite face to face.

She was gorgeous, catching Merlin off guard, her eyes were a piercing green and her black hair was thick and flowing down her pale face. He quickly grabbed her hand and she was too scared to give any resistance as he ran with her to another hiding place. They waited silently until another passerby walked past them. Merlin pulled her forward and they hid beside the woman’s dress and dashed the rest of the way to another dark hiding spot. They used this time to catch their breath. She panted and struggled to keep her hair out of her face. Merlin managed to glance at a gash in her side in the chaos but she quickly covered it back up

“Who are you?” She asked.

“I was going to ask you the same question,” Merlin replied before pulling her against a wall and holding her mouth shut. A knight walked by a second later, not seeing them.

“Maybe we should talk later, we need to get back to my place,” Merlin grabbed her hand again and led her slowly to the window he had left from and the slipped back in. They sat there, catching their breath for a bit, but Merlin was staring at where he had saw her wound.

“You’re hurt,” He said, seeing her tense up. “What happened?”

“It’s nothing, I’ll be fine,” Merlin glared at her.

“Liar, luckily, you managed to get the attention of someone who knows how to treat wounds,” Merlin got up. “Gwen!” He called out as loud as he could, making the girl jump. The sleeping woman’s head shot up and she looked around.

“Over here!” He called out, and the girl started to panic after noticing the human. She eyed the window and looked up at Merlin in worry. He bent down and reassured her.

“Gwen is a friend, she’ll help you,” She didn’t look convinced, just scared. Gwen got up and turned around, squinting to see the two. As soon as she noticed the second sprite huddled over she rushed over.

“Merlin! What happened? Who’s that?” She said, reaching out to the tiny woman, but the small girl flinched away from her hand. Gwen pulled back.

“No time to explain, she needs help, can you get me some bandages and alcohol?” Gwen grew stern and nodded, heading over to get the supplies. Merlin bent over and put a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Can you tell me your name?” Merlin asked.

“It’s… Morgana, my name is Morgana…”

“Nice to meet you Morgana, my name is Merlin,” He smiled at her but she just looked down. Gwen came back and set down the bandages and a small bottle of alcohol. Merlin was quick to work, cleaning up the wound and sterilizing it before wrapping it up nice and tight. Gwen sat nearby, watching intently. Morgana felt incredibly self conscious being stared at, but silently put up with it, very grateful for the kindness the two were showing her.

“How did you know I was in trouble?” Morgana spoke up after a while of silence. Merlin looks up.

“I heard you call for help in my head,” Morgana looked down.

“Thank you…”

“It’s no problem, and you’re welcome to stay here for a while to recover if you’d like,” Morgana looked at him in surprise.

“Really? Are you sure? Those knights are probably still looking for me…” Merlin looked at Gwen, not thinking about that.

“That might be a problem… Could you help us if that happens?” He asked Gwen, who nodded quickly.

“They might come searching here, we should prepare,” Merlin said.

He set to work making his loft look like just another shelf. Meanwhile Gwen grabbed a bundle of soft fabric and put it in the bottom of her pocket. Morgana watched her closely. She had never been able to look at a human this close before without being in imminent danger. She’s actually really pretty… Morgana thought. She noticed how soft her skin looked, and how beautiful her curls were- Morgana slapped her face with her hands. Stop! What the hell are you thinking? Gwen walked up to her and offered her hands to her.

“I’ll need to hide you if the knights come,” Morgana looked up at her, blushing hard. She didn’t know why, she barely knew this human.

“O-Okay,” Morgana said and shyly stepped onto the girls awaiting hands. Gwen curled her fingers around Morgana slightly as she set her gently in her pocket. With Morgana secure she turned to Merlin, who was finishing up hiding any evidence of him being there.

“You ready? I think I hear them somewhere close,” She said, reaching out her hand to Merlin. He jumps on her hand and she quickly slips him in her pocket with Morgana. Only a few seconds later there was a knock on the door.

“Come in!” She says, gently patting her pocket to make sure they were still. Arthur and a couple of knights came in through the door.

“Hello Gwen, have you seen any sprites? We spotted one in the castle,” Arthur’s look of disgust unnerved Gwen.

“No, sorry, I haven’t,” Merlin and Morgana stay completely still, occasionally looking at each other for reassurance.

“Alright, we’re just gonna do a quick check around to make sure,” With that the knights entered the room and starting looking under things and behind books, occasionally knocking some things over. Gwen stayed out of their way as much as possible.

“Sorry about the mess Gwen, but it’s necessary,” Arthur said, stopping next to Gwen.

“Why all the fuss about a sprite?” Gwen asked, keeping her hands over her pocket protectively.

“My father will not stand to have them running around his castle, they’re pests,” Gwen winced and Merlin clenched his fists. After a long few minutes the knights came over to Arthur.

“Nothing sire, it’s probably fled the castle,”

“Good, let’s hope an animal kills it,” Arthur said, waving the knights away and following after them. Morgana grips at the material of Gwen’s pocket, her gut tightening in fear and dread.

When Gwen was sure they were gone she quickly pulled the two out of her pocket and set them down. She and Merlin quickly noticed that Morgana was shaking, and before Merlin had a chance to stabilize her Gwen reached out and put her hand around the small lady. Morgana immediately stopped shaking and looked up at Gwen. She had the instinct to pull away but the warmth and comfort filled in the one touch drained away all the fear she had felt from what the prince had said.

“Are you alright?” Gwen asked, slowly pulling away her hand but keeping it close. Morgana pulled her hands close to her chest and nodded, blushing.

The three waited in silence until the search was over, and they all let out a collective breath of relief.

"Why were you in the courtyard anyway?" Merlin asked, turning to Morgana. The female sprite looked down with a grave face.

"My sister told me to meet her here, she said she had this amazing plan to stop the violence against sprites," Merlin perked up in curiosity.

"Really? That sounds.."

"Crazy? Impossible? Yeah, I know, but she is pretty smart so who knows,"

"So what happened?"

"I never found her, I was spotted by a human who immediately started… attacking me," Morgana moved a shaky hand up to wipe her face from tears.

Gwen was horrified. She had always had mixed opinions because she had only ever heard about how sprites were evil and mischievous, coming into houses and causing illness with their magic. But as soon as she met one she knew that none of that was true, they were just like people.. But smaller, and magical. She pondered this. What if she tried showing them to others? Would it help them see what she saw or put them in danger? She was so lost in her thoughts she realized she was missing a lot of the conversation.

"-we don't talk about where it is as it could jeopardize the safety of it so yeah I understand," Gwen sighed, wishing she had payed attention.

"Thank you for understanding, even though it's just me and my sister there we have worked hard to make it our own,"

"Maybe when Gaius gets back he can help you return there,"

"Gaius? Who's that?" Morgana asked.

"Oh yeah, he's the physician I've been working under, he's been out of Camelot so that's why Gwens here," Gwen waved shyly at being mentioned.

"Well I would owe him much if he did that…and I owe both of you so much as well for saving me and hiding me," Merlin smiled and nodded in reply, Gwen smiled as well.

"So where's your sister?" Gwen asked, finally joining the conversation. Morgana jumped a bit, still getting used to a humans presence.

"I don't know, but I should probably search for her, or she could end up in the same situation I was in…"

"We'll help in any way we can," Merlin and Gwen share a look of understanding.

"So, we should probably get back to making medicine, still lots of people to help," Gwen said, straightening up and walking over to the workbench. Merlin offers Morgana a hand to get up.

"You can stay in this room with us, I'll get you situated, okay? How about you go keep Gwen company until I can come help," Morgana nods and starts making her way to Gwen. Merlin climbs up to his shelf and starts the process of making another bed.

"I know we never introduced ourselves but I'm Morgana," she said as she walking across the workbench.

"Oh! My name's Gwen! Very nice to meet you," She gave a smile, making Morgana almost swoon.

Morgana didn't know anything about medicine so all she could do was watch as Gwen worked.

"Agh, blast, the fire went out," she cursed to no one in particular. The fire being a small flame under a glass beaker, heating ingredients for her concoction.

Without thinking Morgana raised her hand and lit the flame from where she sat. Gwen flinched at the fire and gasped. She looked at Morgana and gaped.

"Did you do that?" She said, astonished. Morgana looked down and flushed in embarrassment.

"Yeah sorry, reflex," Gwen stared at the fire for a moment longer.

"That's amazing!" Morgana looked up at her in surprise. She had never gotten a response like that for her magic. She smiled and pushed her hair behind her ear.

"Thanks…" Gwen smiled and went back to work.

"What are you guys on about?" Merlin asked, making his way down from the ledge to them.

"Morgana can light a fire with her mind!" Gwen said excitedly. Merlin smiled at her naivety.

"That's magic, all sprites have it in some form or another,"

"Really? Wow!" Morgana and Merlin look at each other in bewilderment then laugh. What a strange human.

#gt #g/t #giantess #f/f #giant/tiny #wholesome giantess #tiny #gt writing #bbc Merlin #gwen x Morgana #gt story #gt fanfic #fanfic

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donttouchtheneednoggle · 3 years

Note

idk if anyone has done these yet, but for the WIP ask game thing: "cuddle" "kiss" or "tear(s)." hopefully at least one of these haven't been asked already and you have one of them!

These words 🥺🥺🥺

Cuddle:

“Me?” Percival, who had been anxiously silent throughout, spoke up, startled.

Gwen smiled brightly up at him as she turned to face him. “You’re part of our family now. Didn’t I mention?”

She hugged him round the middle then waltzed away, leaving Percival suddenly rather watery eyed and Elyan to cuddle him, grinning his head off.

This is from one of my WIPs, this is when just after Gwen finds out Elyan and Percival are together :’)

Kiss:

As Lancelot pressed his face into the crook of his neck, Merlin could feel him smiling. “Remember the first time we did this?”

Unbidden, a chuckle escaped him. “And you say we shouldn’t do anything tonight.”

He remembered the clumsy kisses, against the door, piled on top of each other on his bed, giggles muffled against skin. They had been too drunk to stand, let alone do anything else, but they had fallen asleep as they were now, curled up under the covers.

He twisted round and pressed his face into Lancelot’s shoulder. “Bregdan anweald gafeluec,” he murmured against his skin.

He hadn’t forgotten.

He hadn’t.

Okie dokie this is from my mostly fix it Arthur still dies where Lancelot comes back sometime between 5x10 and 11 y’know when they are DEEP in it and is like wHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED :’)

I feel like I might have done tear already but boy if there’s one thing my fic has a lot of! 🤣

Merlin squeezed her arm. “You know you’re allowed to be not fine right? I’m here. Whenever you need me.”

Gwen’s eyes filled with tears. “Can’t,” she confessed quietly. “It’s the only way I’m- It feels like if I go there, I’ll never be ok again.”

He squeezed her arm again. “When you do, I’m right here,” he promised.

Her teary eyes looked at him, smiling gently. “Thank you,” she whispered. They sat there for a while, in peaceful silence.

This is set after Tom dies, and Merlin helping Gwen through it ;_;

Thanks for the ask! ❤️

Send me words!

#MAYBE BREGDAN ANWEALD GAFELUEC WILL BE OUR ALWAYS #bbc merlin #ask game

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mimiswitchywrites · 3 years

Text

Not A Burden: Chapter 2

TW: SH references, attempted s****de and references, child/s***al a**se references (not graphic but enough that could be triggering)

Materlist or read on AO3

1.9k words

---------------

Lancelot was once again mounted on his horse with the girl leaning on his chest, though this time she seemed mostly conscious. After some riding, she turned round to face him, as best she could.

“What is your name, Sir Knight?” Her voice was still raw but she spoke firmly.

“Lancelot. May I ask your name, My Lady?”

She smiled at this, and he returned a small one. “Miriam. I believe I have heard your name before, maybe you have passed through a village I have stayed in before.”

“Have you stayed in many villages before?”

Her face dropped and she turned around, facing forwards once more. Lancelot, not fond of the idea that he had offended the lady – Miriam – apologised. “I meant no offence My Lady, I only thought that talking might make you feel a little happier, but I understand that I was wrong.”

She smiled once more, though he couldn’t see, and she took a deep breath. It still hurt to swallow and she made a note that, if she were to go through this experience again, she would avoid consuming something that would make her vomit as she had to the night before. While her arms throbbed, she was at least used to that feeling and could cope with it, but a throat that burnt as hers did was quite the inconvenience.

“I’m not offended, Sir Lancelot. My past is just not something that brings me much joy.” They sit in silence until she adds “But I appreciate the sentiment. What makes you happy, Sir?”

“Your insistence in calling me Sir certainly makes me smile.” She laughs at this, but it quickly ends in another painful round of coughing. He hands her his waterskin which she gratefully takes.

“You must have been on some fun travels as a Knight of the Round Table? You seem to be a chaotic bunch.” Now it is his turn to laugh, she doesn’t know the half of it. She enjoys the feeling of his chest vibrating on her back and lets herself lean against him a little more. It has been so long since she had been this close to someone so kind.

“You could certainly say that. Well, there was this one time that Merlin, the King and I…”

He told her lengthy tales of his and his friends adventures, skilfully avoiding all mentions of Merlin’s magic, and for the first time in months (or was it years?) Miriam felt content. Not happy, not by a long stretch, but her mind was quiet, and she felt safe against the kind Knights chest. Feeling safe is such an underappreciated sensation.

The sun had set before they stopped for the night which made setting up camp rather a difficult task, but Merlin managed, as he always does. He made a small fire with the help of a silent spell and prepared the evenings meal as quickly as he could before arranging everyone’s sleeping mats. He gave the girl his mat and she nodded her thanks in return. He was yet to check her bandages or even ask her name, but he wasn’t sure if she would want him to. She had been so attached to Lancelot (who could blame her though, he thought) that he worried she wouldn’t want to listen to him. He was no strong knight, and he was likely to hurt her a little as he cleaned her wounds again, so he thought it best to at least wait until she had eaten.

Dinner was well received, mostly. Gwaine, Merlin noticed, was still not all there and hardly touched his food. He decided to do something about it.

“After so long being friends, do you really think now is when I would poison your food, Gwaine?” After a beat, the Knight turned to his dark-haired friend and forced a pathetic attempt at his usual grin.

“What’s wrong? You’ve hardly talked since this time yesterday, and I know you didn’t fill your waterskin earlier.”

Maybe not a win then, Gwaine frowned.

“If you won’t talk to me then I shall just sit and keep you company, though I will have to tend the girls wounds once I have built up the courage to.”

“Miriam.” Gwaine murmured, his voice gravelly from so little use.

“Who?”

“The girl, her name is Miriam. I heard Lancelot call her that.”

“You’ve been listening to everyone talk, then?”

“Occasionally. Contrary to popular belief, I do listen.”

“I know you do.” They sit, watching the fire. “You should eat some more; you know how your head hurts and the world spins when you’ve not eaten enough.”

Gwaine grunts in response but eventually eats another spoonful, face scrunching up in response.

“It’s not actually bad, is it?” Merlin frets.

Shaking his head, Gwaine does his best to respond naturally, “No, not bad, eating just isn’t so appetising at the moment.”

Merlin stares at him, mouth open. Upon his loud exclamation of “What?”, the rest of the Knights look up at the pair too. Gwaine’s cheeks burn, not having the brain power to joke his way out of this one. He takes another large spoonful, forcing it down while making direct eye contact with Merlin. “There, happy?” He puts his still practically full bowl by the rest in need of washing and returns to his mat. “Now, if it is alright with you my friend, I would like to sleep so would you kindly remove your lanky arse from my spot?” He flashes the shocked Merlin a sarcastic smile and lies down.

The rest of the camp stares at the not-so-jolly Knight’s back and then at each other. This is rather an unprecedented situation. Even when mucking out the stables as punishment for creating chaos, Gwaine is still more, well, Gwaine-like than he is now.

Merlin, still a little shell shocked, sits next to Miriam where he asks if he can look at her wounds and does so in silence.

Arthur lay on his back, staring up through the canopy, with Merlin curled into his side. The boy had given Miriam (he liked that name, it suits her) his roll mat and so, as the generous king he is, Arthur had offered Merlin some space on his. It wasn’t weird, he was sure any of the other knights would have offered the same if he hadn’t got there so fast. Maybe, he began to fret, he offered too fast. Does it seem like he wanted the raven-haired man in his bed with him? It’s not like he didn’t want him there but not like that, that’s what the blonde told himself, anyway. Maybe, if he said it enough, he would believe it.

Miriam, sat on the other side of the dying fire, watched the King. She could tell he was worrying about something, the way he tapped his fingers on his stomach and sighed every few seconds made it obvious. After a while, the pressure in her bladder got the better of her and she stood, making her way further into the woods to alleviate herself.

The King removed his arm from around Merlin and stood, grabbing his sword and following her, gesturing for Percival to stay where he was on watch.

Miriam had an amazing ability to disappear, he thought to himself as he strained his ears to find her. Suddenly, as he turned to his right, she stumbled into him, hissing as she hit her left arm against his chest plate.

“What were you doing?” he demanded, eyes softening as he saw the tears in hers.

“Fucking pissing, I wasn’t aware I had to ask permission for that, Your Highness.” She bowed dramatically, and then hugged her throbbing arm into her stomach, heading back to camp and leaving a flabbergasted king behind her.

He watched her as she went, stabbing his sword into the dirt in frustration. He didn’t mean to be rude and he certainly didn’t mean to hurt her like that. It had been a long trip and hopefully, he thought, he could make peace with her before they got back to Camelot. Sighing, he pulled his sword back out of the dirt and headed back to Merlin and, more importantly, bed.

The next morning, Elyan woke to Lancelot and Arthurs hushed argument next to him. He listened without opening his eyes, wanting to get as much rest as possible before another long day of riding. Lancelot seemed angry at Arthur for shouting at Miriam and hurting her? No, that couldn’t be right, Arthur wouldn’t hurt an already injured enemy, let alone a female guest. He opened his eyes, propping himself up on his elbows so they knew he was listening. They continued on at each other:

“She should have told Percival where she was going!”

“Did you tell her that she needed to do that? Have you even told us that we need to give everyone permission to empty our bladders? I can say for sure that I don’t want to know every time you take a piss behind a tree, Sire.” Elyan bit his tongue so he wouldn’t laugh at how much Lancelot sounded like Merlin there. His snort didn’t go unnoticed, and Arthur dragged him into the heated debate.

“Elyan, help us sort this, Lancelot here thinks I am a terrible king—”

“I never said that, I said that you hurt our guest, scared her, and told her off for alleviating herself.”

“—and I think that is, quite frankly, bullshit. Thoughts?”

Elyan stared at the two, eyes jumping back and forth as he tried to figure out the best answer. Of course, he agreed with Lancelot – Arthur didn’t exactly have much in his defence – but he couldn’t exactly disagree with his King.

“Have either of you talked to Miriam since last night?”

They both faltered. No, then.

“Maybe starting there is a better idea than asking the person that has been awake for mere seconds.” And with that, Elyan stood, dusted off his trousers and turned to leave the camp, “I’ll be behind that tree, nature calls, I hope that’s alright with you both.” And off he went, rolling his eyes as he did.

The day was not off to a good start.

Miriam, having moved as soon as she saw Arthur approaching Lancelot (who had been next to her that night), was sat next to a sleeping Gwaine. Merlin was right, he did have a headache, and he was hoping that more sleep would fix this (it wouldn’t). Finally giving up, he groaned and sat up, jumping slightly as he noticed the girl sat by his feet. She was staring at Arthur, looking bitter, and anxiously picking at her bandages.

Gwaine took a deep breath, psyching himself up, and shuffled so he sat closer to her.

“Hello.” His voice was deep and shocked her out of her seething state. She turned, analysing him.

“Good morning. You are Gwaine?”

He nodded. “Miriam?” She nodded back.

“What has the Princess done to get you in such a state?” At her confused look, he expanded, “Arthur.” She nods, smiling.

“He’s rather a rude one, isn’t he?” Gwaine’s face lights up at this, it is perhaps the happiest he has looked for the last two days.

“He has his moments, that’s for sure,” he pauses, watching his King, “But he is actually quite the just king, if you can believe.”

She squints at Arthur, looking him up and down, and hums – not sure she does believe.

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ohanahoku-ao3 · 4 years

Text

Whumptober Prompt 15

A Dangerous Practice. Also on AO3 here. @whumptober2020 Two prompts in one day, I am on a roll!

“What happened?!” Merlin cried, rushing to Arthur’s side as Leon and Gwaine laid the prince down on his bedroll. “You three were only supposed to collect some firewood!”

“We ran into some trouble,” Gwaine grumbled, wiping the sweat from his brow.

“Merlin, please, you have to do something,” Leon said, grabbing the arm of the physician’s apprentice.

“What? I can’t do anything for this!” Merlin said, his eyes wide as he looked down at the profusely bleeding wound in Arthur’s chest. “He needs Gaius!”

“We don’t have time to get him to Gaius!” Leon countered. “Please, Merlin! Your people can heal wounds like this. I’ve seen it.”

“Those people have years of experience over me!” Merlin shouted, shaking his hand off and backing away. “I’m not nearly that far along in my studies! I can barely heal a papercut with the right herbs. How do you expect me to heal this?!” He asked, starting to panic as he paced back and forth.

“I can’t expect you to heal him,” Leon said, getting up. “But I expect you to try at the very least! Please, Merlin. Arthur is dying. He won’t make it back to the castle like this.”

The servant looked at the knight, pressing his lips together. Tears were gathered in his eyes as he warred with himself, scared to try, but knowing that if he didn’t, Arthur would die for sure. He nodded silently, reaching up to wipe at his eyes quickly before kneeling down at his injured friend’s side.

He reached toward him with a shaky hand before pulling it back, shaking his head. “I don’t know what I’m doing.” He said helplessly, tears dripping down his cheeks.

Gwaine placed a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve got this, Merlin. Even Gaius says you’re his most gifted pupil. If anyone can do this, it’s you.” He murmured gently.

Merlin swallowed anxiously, closing his eyes for a moment. He took a deep breath in and nodded, reaching for Arthur once more but not touching him.

He kept his eyes closed, his hands hovering over his body as he focused on the magic around him. He could feel the life draining out of Arthur, spilling into the ground and the air. A deep crease on his brow, he frowned and drew on the magic, fingers curling and moving slightly, like those of a puppet master as he worked the strings of his craft. Slowly, Merlin pulled the magic towards him, a shock going through his body as he gathered it in his hands.

It tingled as it seeped into his skin, and the warlock gasped. It was too much for his inexperienced body to handle, but he couldn’t stop. It wasn’t enough to heal Arthur. He needed more.

Clenching his eyes tight and gritting his teeth, Merlin steeled himself before putting all his strength into drawing the escaped magic out of the air, taking it into himself.

The magic burned as Merlin collected it, lighting his veins with liquid fire as he yelled in pain, his body twitching as sweat gathered on his forehead and rolled down his face.

The knights around him glanced at each other but didn’t dare to interfere. Even as the sweat on his face turned to droplets of blood that dripped from his skin in dark splashes against the ground, they only watched.

When all of Arthur’s life force had been pulled from the air, Merlin cried out. His very core felt as though it was breaking apart, the contained magic bashing against his own. It was agony, piercing every part of him and threatening to tear him apart.

Muscles aching, Merlin moved to press his hands over Arthur’s chest, and with a mighty shove, he forced the magic out, channeling it back into Arthur’s body.

Prince and warlock alike screamed as the magic flowed from one to the other, the wound in Arthur’s chest healing and the glow in Merlin’s eyes blazing.

Merlin sat back, and Arthur sat up slowly, looking dazed but healthy as the knights cheered.

Gwaine squeezed Merlin’s shoulder, shaking the servant excitedly, only for his bubble of joy to burst as Merlin fell over, his body spasming.

A distant call of his name was the last thing Merlin heard before he passed out.

=+=+=+=+=+=

Hours later, the young man was resting in his chambers, pale and weak, but alive.

In the outer chambers, Gaius was speaking to the knights. “If this had been any of my other students, they would not be alive right now.” He told them wearily, sitting down.

Arthur glanced at the others. “I don’t understand.” He admitted.

“Neither do we.” The others chorused.

The physician sighed. “You three really should endeavor to learn more about these things.” He told them. “What Merlin did today was a dangerous practice, one that most sorcerers and even warlocks never master in their lifetimes.”

He took his spectacles off and rubbed at his eyes before going on. “What he did, essentially, was absorbing the magic of another into himself. It is a risky practice because the magic in our bodies is not meant to touch another. So when he took Arthur’s life force into his body, his own magic was fighting against it, trying to expel it by force. It took great strength on Merlin’s part to hold it in for so long.”

He shook his head. “If a sorcerer tried to do such a thing, he would have died almost instantly without the proper knowledge. Only because Merlin is a warlock did he manage to survive. Warlocks are born with an innate sense of how to manipulate magic. That is the only reason he managed to hold back his own magic so well. Without that intuitive ability, he would surely have died.”

“But he will be okay now, right?” Gwaine asked, looking worriedly towards Merlin’s room.

“Yes, with time. Merlin will need to rest and heal, but he’ll make a full recovery in a month or so.” Gaius assured him.

“A month?!” Arthur nearly yelled, eyes wide.

“Keep your voice down.” Gaius scolded. “Yes, a month. And you had better be thankful that it is such a short period of time. It was your life after all that he saved.”

The prince shut his mouth quickly, looking contrite as he nodded.

“Good. Now all of you get going. Merlin needs his rest, and so do you.” Gaius said, shooing them out of his chambers. He checked on Merlin one last time before heading to bed.

That student of his was going to be the death of him one day.

#whumptober2020 #no.15 #into the unknown #magical healing #bbc merlin #fic #injuries #blood #near death experience

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badchoicesposts · 4 years

Text

In a Land of Myth...

Chapter 13

Summary: When Selene, a young sorceress, arrived in Stormholt she had every intention of remaining anonymous. King Constantine Rys had strict rules on sorcery. The act itself was punishable by death, and she had no desire to be burnt at the stake for her “crimes”. However, it becomes increasingly difficult for her to remain unseen when she becomes Prince Liam’s personal maidservant, and it seems that it’s her job to protect him from everyone that wants to kill him.

Disclaimer: This AU is a cross between TRR, The Crown and The Flame, and BBC’s Merlin. Merlin follows the tale of King Arthur and the sorcerer Merlin. Merlin comes to Camelot where magic is outlawed and is made Prince Arthur’s servant. You do not have to watch the show to understand this fic, but it is based on the BBC show Merlin so the story line will be similar. I don’t own the plot to Merlin or any of the TRR characters.

Word Count: 4,228

Author’s Note: This series is finally back and with a new mood board! Thanks so much for being so patient with the fact that it took so long!

Taglist: @flowerpowell, @bobasheebaby, @alexintheskyy, @slytherincursebreaker, @kingliam2019, @furiousherringoperatortoad, @goldenbirdcrystalcage, @burnsoslow, @zilch3, @desiree-0816, @sanchita012

Let me know if you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist!

Catch Up: Masterlist

Selene slid herself into Liam’s wardrobe, shutting the door enough to keep herself hidden but also making sure she could still hear what was going on in the room. Liam and Kiara had already been on their ride for over an hour, and it was getting dark outside, so they should be returning at any moment. Selene let out an annoyed breath as she pushed one of Liam’s cloaks out of her face. When she had woken up that morning she hadn’t expected to have to hide in her employer’s wardrobe to spy on him and the woman that was trying to kill him, but here she was anyway.

“Stupid Liam and his stupid hadsome face, never knowing when someone is trying to kill him. And of course I have to do all the work and save his royal ass, but do I ever get any thanks? No, it's all ‘Don’t tell anyone you have magic, Selene. You’ll get murdered for saving the prince’s life, Selene’,” she grumbled under her breath, giving her best Bastien impression.

“Are you talking to yourself in there?” Drake whisper yelled from his hiding place under Liam’s bed.

When he had heard how dangerous the sidhe could be, he insisted on helping her. She had tried to explain that she was the one with the magic, and if something went wrong she would end up having to save him and not the other way around, but Drake was nothing if not stubborn.

“Shhhh, stop being so loud,” she called back to him, cringing when she realized that she had complained loud enough for him to hear.

“You’re the one who started it!” he responded in the same tone, causing her to roll her eyes.

“Yes, well now I’m telling you to stop continuing it!” she said, hearing him grumble in response.

She shushed him once again when she heard the door to Liam’s chambers opening and peeked through the small opening between the wardrobe doors to see Liam and Kiara stumble in. From her spot she could see the dazed look on Liam’s face as Kiara pushed him to sit on the bed. She stood over him looking intently into his eyes. Kiara grasped his hands tightly in hers and muttered an incantation.

“Our love is strong. Tell me you feel the same way too,” she muttered in a low, sultry voice.

“I feel the same way. I love you,” Liam responded in a hypnotized voice.

“I could never stand to be parted from you,” Kiara continued, rising one of her hands to stroke the side of his face.

“I would never let anyone part us,” Liam said.

“We should be together. Till death do us part,” Kiara said.

“Till death do us part.”

Kiara muttered the spell once again before pressing her lips to Liam’s. She pulled away from him and he fell onto the bed unconscious. Kiara looked over him for a moment, before waltzing out of the room. Selene sprinted out of the wardrobe and checked for his pulse. The man was still alive, but in a deep sleep.

“Drake! Get out of there!” she said, running to the door.

She was about to open it when she heard Kiara and Hakim’s voices on the other side.

“He’s ready. He’ll do what we need him to,” Kiara said.

“Good. I must go to the elders,” Hakim said. “You have done well.”

“Good luck, father,” Kiara responded, closing the door to her own chambers as Hakim began to walk in the other direction.

Selene poked her head out the door and made sure that the corridor was empty before sprinting after Hakim’s retreating form. She heard loud footsteps behind her, and a moment later Drake’s strong hand grabbed onto her wrist and stopped her from moving.

“What are you doing?” he asked quietly.

“What does it look like? I’m following him,” she whispered back, pulling her arm out of his grasp and moving forward.

Drake grabbed onto her again and pulled her behind a nearby pillar.

“That’s not a good idea,” he said.

“Do you have a better one? We need to know what we’re dealing with and who these elders are,” she said, moving to follow Hakim once again.

“Selene,” Drake called after her.

“I’m going, Drake. You can’t stop me,” she said.

Selene heard Drake mumble something under his breath, but he didn’t try to stop her again. Instead, he walked up next to her allowing her to lead the way.

“You’ve never followed anyone have you?” she asked.

“No, why would I have?” he asked.

“Get behind me,” she instructed.

“Why?”

“Because if we’re walking side by side it’s more noticeable,” she said, grabbing his arm and pulling him behind her.

They began walking through the woods, making sure to keep a respectable distance from Hakim, before stopping in front of a large lake. Selene pulled Drake behind a tree next to her, and they both peered out from behind it. Hakim began to speak loudly in a language Selene didn’t recognize, and a moment later, a bright ethereal light coming from the surface of the water blinded them. Several blue orbs of light began floating around the surface of the water wildly and slowed to a stop in front of Hakim.

At first glance the creatures seemed beautiful and nonthreatening. However, upon closer inspection Selene could see that the harsh faces and sharp teeth on the creatures. They were small but terrifying to look at.

“I come to you to plead for a chance of an immortal life and entrance back into the realm of the sidhe,” Hakim called loudly over the rustling wind.

“Your punishment for killing another sidhe is a mortal life and a mortal body. You shall never be allowed back into our realm,” the elder responded, his voice deep and intimidating even for a creature so small.

“The crime was mine, not my daughter’s. I offer you the soul of Prince Liam Rys of Stormholt in exchange for my daughter’s passage back to our home,” Hakim called desperately.

The elder was silent for a moment as he looked over Hakim curiously.

“Liam Rys,” he mused. “Liam Rys. Bring us his soul and your daughter shall be welcomed back with open arms.”

With that the sidhe elders began zooming across the surface of the lake once again and disappeared a moment later. Hakim chuckled in satisfaction to himself and began to turn around to make his way back to the palace. Drake grabbed onto Selene’s shoulders and pushed her back against the tree they were hiding behind, pressing himself up against her as Hakim walked past their hiding spot. Selene was almost positive that he could feel how fast her heart was beating in her chest as she stood caged between his body and the tree.

She could feel his breath on her skin as he gently pressed his forehead against hers, the action causing her to close her eyes and lean closer into him. Their lips were centimeters apart, and Leo’s words telling her to explore her options floated through her mind. It would have been so easy to sink into his arms and pretend that everything was okay. But, then she thought back to Liam. Liam who was lying in his bed at the castle, bewitched and about to lose his soul.

“He’s gone. It’s safe for us to go,” she whispered, pushing him away from her and beginning to walk back to the trail to the castle.

After a few moments of walking alone, she felt Drake come up behind her, and the two made the rest of the journey in silence. He followed her back up to her and Bastien’s chambers, the two bringing a tense energy in with them. Bastien had been preparing himself for bed, and Selene dropped down onto the mattress next to him and stared at the ceiling absentmindedly.

“They want to sacrifice his soul to the sidhe elders so that Kiara will be regranted immortality,” she said tiredly.

“Regranted?” Bastien asked.

“Apparently Hakim killed another sidhe so their punishment was a mortal life and body.”

“And Kiara has Liam under some kind of spell. He just agrees with whatever she says,” Drake said, leaning against the wall next to the bed.

“You know what they want now. That’s good, it’s progress. You two should get some sleep tonight. There’s not much more you can do tonight,” Bastien said.

Drake bade them goodnight and departed, however, Selene made no move to get up from the bed beside Bastien.

“What is it?” he asked her.

“I know that my magic is strong, but this feels different. It feels dangerous. I know people have tried to hurt Liam before, but no one’s ever controlled his mind like this. How am I supposed to stop them?”

Bastien sighed and turned onto his side to face her.

“I think you know what you have to do,” he stated, looking at her sympathetically. Selene’s eyes began to fill with tears.

“I’ve never killed anyone before, Bas. Not directly. I caused the chandelier to fall during Joelle’s performance, but I’ve never actively tried to take someone’s life. I don’t know if I can do it,” she said, curling herself into his side and crying into his shoulder.

Bastien wrapped his arms around her and held her close.

“I still remember the first life I ever took. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget it,” he said softly. “I was coming back to Stormholt with a patrol group, and we were attacked by a group of bandits. They were brutal, and they struck to kill. We were surrounded, and I ended up locked in battle with one of the most ruthless of the bunch. It became obvious that it was going to be him or me, but it was still one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever had to make.”

“How did you deal with it?” she asked, her tears soaking into the thin material of his shirt.

“I went to Jackson Walker,” he said. “My father was already dead, and even if he was alive, it wouldn’t have made much of a difference. He was never the type to think twice when it came to defeating his enemies. Jackson spent quite a bit of time with the knights of Stormholt, and he was always kind to me.”

“What did he say?”

“He told me that there was a difference between survival and murder. There’s a difference between good intentions and bad ones. He said that ending someone’s life should be a last resort, but the fact that I was having such a hard time dealing with it set me apart from that bandit. He said that the guilt and remorse I felt proved that I was still human. Killing should never be an easy decision, and when it becomes one is when you know you’ve lost yourself, you’ve lost your humanity. Why do Hakim and Kiara want to kill Liam?”

“Because Kiara wants to be immortal.”

“And do you think that’s a selfish or noble reason?” Bas asked.

“It’s selfish, but don’t you think there’s good and bad in everyone?” she said.

“I do believe that,” he said simply, as Selene shifted slightly in his arms to make herself more comfortable.

“I don’t think they’re all bad, but they’re willing to sacrifice someone else’s life for their own personal gain, and that isn’t fair,” she mused. “But, then it could also be argued that killing them to keep Liam from dying is also selfish. I’m so confused.”

She pushed her face back into his shoulder and groaned in frustration.

“Selene, what I’m trying to say is that you’re not a bad person. I know you’re having a hard time with this, and it’s not fair that you have to make a decision like this. But, the difference between you and them is that you’re here crying about the thought of harming them, but they didn’t think twice about hurting Liam.”

~~~

Selene woke up with the sun the next morning and rolled over to see Bastien lying asleep next to her. She slid out of bed and slipped out the door, her head aching and eyes still swollen from all of her crying the night before. Bastien had done his best to console her, but no matter how hard she tried the thought of killing Kiara and Hakim set her off. However, right now she couldn’t even think about all of that. The only thing on her mind was making sure that Liam was still okay. As she approached his chambers she could hear raised voices coming from inside them and began walking faster.

“Li, this is crazy!” Drake exclaimed as she pushed the door open.

“Kiara and I are in love,” Liam said, his voice dazed. “My father would never agree to our marriage, so we’re going to elope.”

Liam was hastily throwing clothes and items from his dresser into a bag.

“Liam?” Selene called softly, causing them both to turn to look at her.

“Selene, I’m getting married today,” Liam said.

The smile he gave her was unnatural, and Selene could see no real joy behind it.

“Liam, you can’t do that,” she said in a soothing tone, trying not to agitate him.

She moved forward and grabbed the bag out of his hands. Liam seemed to startle at her touch, and he looked at her intently for a moment. The moment was over as soon as it began though, and he grabbed the bag from her again.

“Liam, you can’t do this. Kiara has you under a spell,” she said, more insistently.

“That’s ridiculous!” Liam exclaimed, looking around the room confused.

“No, it isn’t. You’re not yourself, Liam,” Drake said, approaching the two of them as well.

“People will always try to keep us apart, Liam. That’s why we must leave now,” Kiara’s voice came from behind them.

Selene and Drake both tensed anxiously as the woman and her father entered the room.

“Liam, they’re controlling you,” Selene said, her voice determined as she moved towards him.

She reached her hand out to touch him, hoping that it would do something to distract him from the spell the way it had briefly done earlier, but Hakim’s hard voice stopped her.

“That’s enough,” he said threateningly, causing her to turn back to him nervously.

Hakim’s eyes were growing bright red as he glared at her, and she heard Drake curse softly to himself once he noticed it as well.

“Liam, look at them. They’re not human!” she called desperately again.

Selene gasped in horror when Liam looked up at her, his own eyes glowing bright red.

“We’ve wasted enough time,” Hakim said, looking over to his daughter.

The two of them shared a knowing look, and before Selene could move to stop them, they raised their staffs in unison, a bright blue beam coming out of the crystals and hitting both Drake and Selene in the chest. The force of the blue beams threw them back against the wall behind them, their bodies colliding roughly with the stone. Selene barely registered the pain in her back as she began to lose consciousness, the world fading to black around her.

“Selene. Selene!” a loud voice said insistently in her ear.

Selene jolted awake. Her entire body was sore, and there was a loud ringing in her ears. She looked around the room confused. Her vision was slightly blurred, and it took a minute for her to notice Madeleine’s annoyed face in front of her.

“What the hell happened here? I thought you were going to keep Liam safe? I saw him leaving the castle with Hakim and Kiara,” she said, her voice betraying her irritation.

“I am. I’ll fix this,” she said, trying to stand up only to realize that her balance was off.

Her legs were still unstable, and as she stood up her head started spinning. Madeleine gave her a disbelieving look.

“You don’t look like you can do anything. I’ll go after them myself if I have to,” she said stubbornly.

“No!” Selene yelled, cringing at how loud her own voice was. “No, Drake and I will take care of it. If anything were to happen to you and Liam both, Constantine would kill me.”

“Drake is still unconscious,” the other woman pointed out, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Please just trust me,” Selene said, wobbling over to Drake and dropping to her knees beside him. “Go find Bastien and stay with him until I get back.”

Madeleine looked at her hesitantly before nodding and exiting the room. Selene turned back to Drake and began shaking his shoulder forcefully. However, this did nothing to rouse him from his sleep. She looked around the room frantically and reached over to the pitcher of water on Liam’s dining table. She dumped the contents on top of his head, and he stirred slightly.

“What happened?” he asked. “Why am I wet?”

“Come on!” she called, ignoring his questions and pulling him to his feet unsteadily. “We have to go after Liam.”

The two began running through the path in the woods toward the lake they had followed Hakim to the previous night, Drake easily taking the lead since his legs were much longer than hers. She did her best to keep up. She had no idea how long the two of them had been unconscious and prayed to whoever was listening that Liam was still alive and well. Hakim’s strong, deep voice was chanting loudly as they got closer and closer to the lake, and they arrived just in time to see Kiara pull Liam into a quick kiss. The action itself seemed to take his life away, and he fell back into the water, completely unconscious. Kiara moved deeper into the water and began chanting along with her father as Liam disappeared from sight.

“What do we do?” Drake asked her frantically.

Selene looked around, trying to figure out the best way to approach the situation when she saw Kiara’s staff abandoned at her father’s feet. The young witch held her hand out and muttered an incantation causing the item to come flying into her had. Hakim turned to face them abruptly once he noticed her actions, but before he could move to harm them, Selene pointed the staff in his direction and loudly recited a spell she knew would work. The same blue light that had hit her in the chest earlier that day exploded out of the top of the crystal and went hurtling towards Hakim. The man was destroyed as soon as the beam of light hit him. Selene faintly recognized Kiara’s pained voice calling out to her father, before she turned the staff on the woman as well, repeating the spell once again.

Selene’s heart was beating rapidly in her chest as she dropped the magical relic and ran towards the lake where Liam was lying somewhere under the water. She wasn’t the best swimmer, but she dived in nevertheless, desperate to find his body. After searching for a moment, she resurfaced and took a gasping breath of air before ducking back under. She reemerged a few moments later, gripping tightly onto Liam’s arm as she attempted to drag his body back onto the river bank. Drake was looking at her in shock as she dropped down beside Liam, pressing her fingers to his neck to check his pulse.

“He’s still alive,” she let out a relieved breath and dropped her head down to his chest as she tried to regain some of her energy.

As she lay there with her head on Liam’s chest, she felt a slight stinging behind her eyes as the reality of what she had just done finally caught up with her. She could hear Kiara’s pained voice calling out to her father clear in her mind and forced back her tears as she stood up and turned to Drake.

“Can you help me get him back up to the castle?” she asked, refusing to make eye contact with him.

He nodded slowly and grabbed onto one of Liam’s arms and they both began carrying up back up to the castle. Once they were back in his chambers, Selene stripped him of his wet clothes and changed him into dry ones before covering him with his blankets.

“We can’t tell him what really happened?” she said, standing in front of the fireplace of his chambers to dry her own clothes as well.

“Why?” Drake asked in confusion.

“Because if he knows they were magical creatures it’ll raise too many questions of how we got rid of Hakim and Kiara,” she responded, debating on whether or not she should tell him the truth about Madeleine’s dream as well but decided against it.

He nodded in response looking closely at her face while she did her best to avoid eye contact, her chest hurting when she thought of the lives she had just taken.

“I’ll stay with him if you want to get changed,” he said sympathetically.

Selene smiled at him in thanks before leaving the room to get back to her chambers. Upon entering, she was unfortunately reminded of the fact that she had told Madeleine to go stay with Bastien, and was greeted by the two of them looking at her expectantly. She had originally only told her to go to him because she figured it was an easy way of getting rid of her, and she knew that Bastien was good at keeping people calm. However, she had forgotten that now she needed to come up with some kind of explanation about what happened.

“Is Liam okay? Did Kiara hurt him?” Madeleine immediately asked, rounding on her.

“Liam’s fine,” she said, feeling Bastien’s warning gaze on her. “Kiara never wanted to kill him.”

“Then what happened?” Madeleine demanded.

“Apparently Liam was smitten, and she convinced him to elope with her. I guess she thought it was an easy way to gain a title. But, Drake and I stopped them in time,” she said.

Madeleine narrowed her eyes at her suspiciously, and Selene tried to smile at her convincingly.

“So, she didn’t try to drown him?”

“No.”

“Then why are you so wet?” Madeleine asked, her eyes raking over the other woman’s figure.

“Um, well, they decided to get married in front of a lake, but a fight broke out when Drake tried to talk Liam out of it, and in the process I fell back into the water,” she offered pathetically. “Liam and Drake really got into it, and Liam ended up getting hit in the head pretty hard too so he’s in his chambers lying down.”

Madeleine was still looking at her curiously, but she seemed to accept the story anyway. She straightened her spine and made for the door.

“Well, I’m glad everyone’s okay,” she said.

She was about to walk out the door when she turned back to Selene. She looked as if she were giving her next words great thought before finally speaking again.

“Even though I wasn’t right, I appreciate you taking my concerns seriously,” she said uncomfortably. “Thank you.”

With that, the king’s ward left the room, and Selene let out a relieved breath.

“You’re going to need to become a better liar if you plan on using magic,” Bastien said with an amused smile.

“Give me a break. It’s been a long day,” she said tiredly, dropping down onto a chair at the table.

She rested her head down on the wood and stared absentmindedly at the wall, shivering as the cold air hit her still damp skin.

“Are you okay?” Bastien asked, coming up behind her and wrapping a blanket around her shoulders.

Selene looked up at him as he sat down in a chair next to her and wiped away a stray tear. Chance rested his head on her feet, whining softly until she reached down to scratch behind his ears.

“No, but I think I will be,” she said, softly.

“You did a good thing today, Selene. You saved Liam’s life, again,” he said in attempts to make her feel better.

Selene plastered a forced smile onto her face and leaned back in her chair, throwing her feet up into his lap.

“It’s tiring always having to be the hero,” she said jokingly, causing him to laugh heartily.

“Okay, hero, go change into dry clothes, and we can have lunch,” Bastien said, pushing her feet off his lap and motioning towards her bedroom.

Selene shoved his shoulder playfully as she walked by, a real smile on her face. She remembered all of the things Bastien had said to her the night before as she expressed her fears about hurting others and smiled. Bastien truly was good at helping calm people down. She wasn’t sure where she would be without him.

~~~

Lucretia was more disappointed than she was angry. The Prince had survived, and she was once again faced with the struggle of figuring out how to get rid of him, of figuring out how to get rid of Constantine’s entire bloodline. But, there was one thing she knew for sure now. If she wanted to get rid of Liam, she would need to get rid of Selene first.

#the royal romance #the royal heir #trr #trh #liam x mc #drake x mc #drake walker x mc #drake walker #liam #king liam #bastien #trr bastien #bastien lykel #choices #playchoices fanfic #choices fanfic #playchoices #my fics

19 notes · View notes

rosedavid · 4 years

Note

Merthur request. Canon setting, king arthur and boyfriend Merlin keep trying to eat a meal together all day but they both keep getting pulled away for duties. End something like sneaking in a midnight snack together but just being happy that they finally got to sit down and be together. Thanks so much even if you don’t want to do this one! You are such a good writer so whoever’s request you do, I’m sure I will love it!

Thank you so much!! I hope you enjoy it :)

After Dark

Word count: 2,016

No Warnings

Merlin/Arthur

AO3 Link

...

The streets of Camelot are empty, finally free from the raucous noise of the day. A calm, dark quiet has overtaken the sleepy town. Housetops wallow in the silver of the moonlight. A few midnight crows clamber around the cobblestones, fighting over dropped crumbs. It’s deep into the night, yet two figures remain awake, much to their chagrin.

Daytime, while cheery and jovial, is also active and unrelenting. From the crack of dawn, servants wake to care for their masters. Townspeople begin meandering about, trading goods for coins as they go about their daily duties. Nobles rise, making their way across the castle for royal duties and negotiations. As the sun goes up further in the sky, Camelot grows busier and busier. With a new King, duties for everyone are especially large, but for no one more so than the King and his own manservant.

Starting a new relationship right before Prince Arthur became crowned King Arthur was perhaps a bad idea, but no one ever thinks about schematics when they’re in love. It just happens, much like it did for Arthur and Merlin. Yes, it started as a gradual thing, just fluttering hearts and flirting smiles, before it crescendos into something more. Yearning, pining, deep affections, until it finally reaches the peak, when the two of them finally admitted their mutual feelings. Usually, new romantic partners spend constant time with each other, or at least certainly more than Merlin and Arthur are. Unfortunately, a King’s duties are always toward his kingdom, even if he wishes to be anywhere else. Similarly, Merlin’s duty is to his King, who recently has needed his help with so many tasks that the two hardly intersect courses. Not to mention, Merlin’s duties to Gaius continue throughout this. Any potential alone time the two might have, such as during lunch or dinner time, get superseded by Merlin helping as the Physician’s Assistant.

Within the darkness of the town, a single beacon of light flickers from the King’s castle chambers. Inside, Arthur Pendragon huddles over his desk, mulling over the latest treaty with a neighboring kingdom. A pervasive throb settles behind his eyes. He squeezes them shut, bringing one hand up to massage at his temples. Candle wax drips on the tabletop, hardening in a pile. One of the candle flames suddenly flickers before dying out, darkening the room further. The fire in the hearth continues to burn just barely, flames chewing up the last of the logs.

Currently, Arthur wishes for nothing more than to collapse into bed and let sleep overtake him, but he presses forward. The treaty outlines need to be completed before tomorrow afternoon, and Arthur is much to busy to tend to them tomorrow morning.

The familiar, high-pitched creaking noise from opening his chamber door echoes through the silent room. Normally, Arthur would turn his head to check and see who could be at his door, but he doesn’t need to look at the intruder to know that it’s Merlin. So many little things give it away, from the lack of a knock, to the quietness and stiffness of his movements, careful in case Arthur is asleep at his desk. The door creaks shut behind Merlin a few seconds later.

“You should be asleep by now, Arthur,” Merlin murmurs, making his way to the table Arthur perches at.

“I could say the same about you,” Arthur drawls back.

“Mmh,” Merlin hums in acknowledgement.

Arthur sneaks a glance behind him. Merlin lingers behind his chair and peers over his shoulder at the documents laid out along the tabletop. Even in the dimness of the firelight, Arthur can spot the dark circles marring the skin beneath Merlin’s eyes, along with the shakiness of his fingers as he comes up to grasp the back of Arthur’s chair.

At that moment, yet another throb erupts in Arthur’s skull. He reaches up to rub at his aching head once more, trying to remember what he’s even reading.

“Arthur.”

It’s just one word, his name, but Arthur knows by now the tone that sits behind it. This time, it’s a gentle command, one that if Arthur was feeling better, he would reprimand. Now, though, he simply grimaces at Merlin, waving him off with one hand.

“I need to get this done.”

Merlin sighs. “You need to rest. You won’t comprehend a word you write or read if you continue on like this for much longer.”

“What about you?” Arthur asks.

“Me?”

“You look like you’re about to collapse, idiot.”

“I’m fine,” Merlin promises. Arthur gives him an unconvinced look. “Really, I’m fine. It’s just…been a long day.”

“I can attest to that.”

Merlin’s lips curl into a smile. He opens his mouth to speak again, but gets cut off by a rumbling noise. Arthur frowns, looking around in confusion. It’s only when he sees the redness of Merlin’s face that he realizes the sound came from Merlin’s stomach. Arthur rolls his eyes, gently putting down his quill.

“Merlin,” Arthur begins, “Did you eat dinner tonight?”

“Does part of an apple count?”

“If you have to ask, then it doesn’t count.”

Despite Merlin’s constant pestering and worrying about Arthur’s well-being, Merlin seldom worries about his own state of self; therefore, the job falls to Arthur. Honestly, if it weren’t for him watching out for Merlin, he isn’t sure what would happen. He knows that Merlin takes care of him with magic, but despite how powerful Merlin claims to be, he’s also an idiot that doesn’t ever put himself first.

“Okay, come on then,” Arthur decides in that moment, standing up from his chair. His joints crack in retaliation, a reminder that he’s not the young, inexperienced Prince that he used to be.

“What?” Merlin asks, confused.

Arthur smiles, reaching out a hand for Merlin to clasp. “We have to get you something to eat. I don’t want you to waste away on me.”

“But the kitchens aren’t open.”

“I’m the King, Merlin. The kitchen is never closed for me.”

Merlin chuckles, finally taking his offered hand. Their fingers intertwine, skin against skin. Merlin’s hands are rough and calloused from a day of labor, while Arthur’s fingers are stained with ink splotches. Together, they creep out into the corridor. A few guards linger around, guarding the castle and the King, but they all know better than to make any comments or ask questions.

Used to dodging bodies throughout the corridors of the castle, the pair revel in the emptiness. The stone lined castle walls cast in a chill with no sunlight streaming through the windows yet to warm them. Escaping from Arthur’s fire lit chambers is especially a shock to their systems. Goosebumps travel up their arms. The only thing that remains warm all the way to the kitchens are their hands that never let go of one another.

They scavenge for food once they arrive. Luckily, Merlin knows all of Cook’s spots for the best of treats. A fresh loaf of bread, smell of grain still lingering in the air, is the first thing they grab. They also find some of Cook’s famous sweet rolls already baked for morning, along with some various fruits.

“You know I’m going to get blamed for this, right?” Merlin whispers.

“Of course, you are. They can’t blame the King of Camelot. Besides, I hear Cook has it out for you recently,” Arthur whispers back.

“Don’t remind me,” Merlin mutters. “I take one extra slice of pie…”

They gather all the goodies onto a tray, despite Merlin’s quiet protests that he’ll have to clean it later. The lethargy from the day catches up to them more and more, so much that by the time they arrive back in Arthur’s chambers, they’re stumbling over each other like colts.

Nevertheless, they collapse on the bed together, tray in between them. It’s so indecent to be eating in bed, much less in the King’s bed, but that makes it all the better. Crumbs flitter amongst the sheets, but neither care enough to do more than swipe them away.

It isn’t until Merlin starts eating that he realizes just how starving he feels. He eats almost the entire plate, not even comprehending so until he notices Arthur lounging on his side, smiling at a chowing Merlin.

“Sorry,” Merlin murmurs, finishing off another bite from the bread.

“Don’t be. You need to eat.”

“Do I?”

Arthur rolls his eyes, taking the tray from between them and placing it on the nightstand. With no tray between them, they gravitate closer. Merlin shivers a bit, huddling into Arthur’s chest. The fire has almost died out, leaving them with only the sparse flickering of a dying flame. Only a few candles remain lit, as well, like speckled stars across the room.

“Relight the fire,” Arthur says.

Merlin shifts, and even though Arthur can not seem him, he can feel Merlin’s incredulous gaze. “Why do I have to do it, prat? ‘M freezing.”

“Hm, if only there was a way to light the fire without having to get up?”

“Oh, yeah.”

A golden glow that Arthur has become familiar with pierces the dark fabric of the room. A warm gust of wind seems to travel between them, curling and dancing, before landing over at the hearth. Crackling fire bursts up, framing the sides of their faces. Merlin’s eyes fade away, back to their deep blue. Arthur has always loved the in-between; that moment right after Merlin uses his magic, when the vibrant gold has just started leaving his irises, leaving his eyes a swirling mass of blue and gold flecks. The two parts of Merlin intertwined as one.

Now, the couple can properly melt into each other’s gaze. The tension releases from Arthur’s shoulders when he sees Merlin smile softly at him. Arthur reaches his arm around Merlin’s back, yearning to be closer. Merlin giggles as Arthur’s fingers pass over his side on their way.

Merlin grapples for Arthur’s other hand, clutching their fingers together once more. Merlin snuggles himself into Arthur, their legs naturally tangling together. Their hearts beat steady and strong, comforted by the fact that their back with each other once more.

“It’s been hard, recently,” Arthur admits, swallowing back the quiver in his voice. “I feel like we never see one another.”

Merlin sighs in agreement. “I know. But things will settle down eventually.”

“Eventually.”

“Until then, we will take advantage of every moment we have together, no matter how fleeting.”

Arthur nods, voice tired from talking all day, and head still hurting. Merlin reads him like a book, reaching up to caress the side of his head. Arthur groans, face burying into the pillow as fingers rub across his tender temples. Suddenly, in his haze, Arthur remembers why he had a headache in the first place. Fumbling, he goes to push Merlin off.

“Treaty…” Arthur explains, words slurring. “I need to…”

Merlin shushes him, coaxing him back onto the bed. “Tomorrow. I’ll help you finish, I promise.”

And Arthur trusts Merlin’s promises with his life, just as Merlin trusts Arthur’s. So he eases himself back onto the fluffy covers, back into Merlin’s embrace. They just stare at each other for a bit, outlining the other’s features as if they’ll disappear at any given moment.

Arthur’s thumb swipes against Merlin’s bottom lip before pressing a chaste kiss there with a smile. Merlin leans in for another kiss, this one lingering. There’s something better than a fiery heat behind the kisses: unfiltered love. A need for being together, held in each other’s arms. A few last presses of lips later, Merlin feels his eyes unwillingly shutting.

Arthur chuckles, a deep rumbling in his chest. “We should go to sleep.”

“Mmm…” Merlin acknowledges. “’Still have our shoes on.”

“Go to sleep, idiot.”

No sooner than Arthur’s words are spoken does Merlin’s breathing even out, and he falls lax against Arthur’s chest. Arthur himself begins drifting off almost instantly, lulled by the warm press of Merlin’s body next to him. With one last squeeze of Merlin’s hand, his eyes flutter shut, and he too succumbs to sleep.

#merthur #merthur fic #merlin bbc #merlin fanfiction #merthur fanfic #merthur fanfiction #bbc merlin #fanfiction #fluff #merlin emrys #arthur pendragon #established relationship

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noxleyfin · 4 years

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Merlin Imagine: Leon’s Daughter

→ a/n: I don’t know any of the actors personally nor do I own them or their characters. What’s written below is fiction and should be thought of and treated as such. I am essentially using them as a name-claim and face-claim. I’m creating my own character and using the actors as background characters, and just using their name and features for details. I do not directly associate the actors with any ideas used in my writing. This writing is to be used for entertainment and fictional purposes only. → summary: Leon has secret, what happens when he can’t hide it anymore? → warnings: sickness? bad writing → word count: 1.4k → completion: done → (Y/N) - Your Name

3rd Person POV

Sir Leon…

Easily one of the most well-known and important knights to the kingdom of Camelot. Not just for being one of the Knights of the Round Table, but also training and leading many men in and out of bloody battles. Everyone who knew him trusted him with their life; it was easy to. He was like an open book, no secrets to keep and nothing ever out of order in his life, or so everyone thought.

•••

Thursday, Sometime in Summer 8:48 a.m. [Training Day] 3rd Person POV

Sir Leon’s day wasn’t exactly going to plan. To start, he woke up much later than usual due to getting back from Guard Duty late last night; second, his training knights just weren’t advancing like they were supposed to be. Instead, they sat around and messed around instead of practicing their form. They reminded him of Gwaine in that aspect, but at least he had the decency to eventually quit the jokes and get to work. That led him to 3, the worst thing of all: his daughter was sick and he wasn’t able to get the nice old lady next door to watch her. She was busy with her own sick relative and although she’d expressed her apologies multiple times, Leon was still pretty peeved.

At the moment, instead of heading to the training fields (like he should have been ten minutes ago), he was sitting on the edge of his daughters cot, stroking her soft hair and mumbling a lullaby under his breath. She’d been sick for a few days but it hadn’t been this bad yet. Leon was ready to take her to Gauis but he didn’t want to risk the questions he would no doubt get from Arthur and the rest of his friends.

His daughter let out another weak cough and Leon decided against whatever he was just thinking. He carefully reached his arms under her knees and gently lifted her into his arms, adjusting her so she was still wrapped tightly in her blanket. She let on a small whimper and curled into Leon’s chest.

“It’s alright, (Y/N). We’re going to get you some help,” Leon whispered and made haste for the door on their cottage.

Once he was outside, he hurriedly strolled down the path. He weaved in between the commoners, ignoring the glances of those who didn’t know of his child while smiling tensely at those who did. Coming through the courtyard gates (while silently thanking that he didn’t have to pass the training field to get there) he made his way through the long corridor and up to Merlin and Gauis’ chambers.

“Gauis!” He called, promptly startling the old man who was mixing a tincture of some sort.

He turned after he’d recovered from his brief moment of shock and was confused to see Sir Leon standing in his doorway holding a bundle and looking quite anxious.

“Sir Leon!” He exclaimed, “Shouldn’t you be at training? What’s that?” Gauis inquired.

“Oh Gauis, you’ve got to help me. It’s my daughter. Please.” Leon set the bundle down and pulled the blanket back to reveal a little girl who looked deathly pale.

Gauis immediately went straight into ‘Physician Mode,’ completely ignoring the ‘daughter’ part, knowing it was a secondhand issue that could be discussed later. He poked and prodded at the little girl, trying to figure out what was wrong when he discovered it.

“It’s nothing serious-” Gauis was cut off by a loud sigh of relief but nonetheless, continued, “However, it’s not something that will go away in a day. I’d like to keep her here until it passes through. Is that alright, Sir Leon?” He finished, staring at the terror-stricken father.

“Uh yes, yes that’s alright.” Leon responded absentmindedly; he was too busy keeping an eye on his daughter (whose chest was rising and falling at an unsteady pace).

“I’ll look after her now. Shouldn’t you be off to training?” Gauis asked.

That seemed to snap Leon out of his trance.

“Oh bloody hell,” he cursed. “Arthur’s going to kill me! Thank you so much Gauis. I’ll see you later.” With a swift kiss to (Y/N)’s head, he was out the door and sprinting towards the training grounds.

•••

When he finally arrived, he knew he was in for it. No one held a sword and none of the training dummies were set up to train with. Leon’s training knights weren’t even on the field; the only one’s there were Arthur, Lancelot, Gwaine, Percival, Elyan, and obviously, Merlin. They were standing in the middle of the field talking when they heard the distant sound of footsteps and turned around.

“Sir Leon!” Arthur called ‘cheerfully.’ “What brings you here today?”

“Ehm, just training, Milord.” Leon responded with audible nervousness in his voice.

“If I remember correctly, training started nearly half an hour ago, did it not?”

“It did, Milord,” Leon said, defeated.

“So why in the hell are you late to training?!” Arthur snapped causing the poor man to nearly jump out of his skin.

“I know there’s no excuse, Sire, but-,” Leon was cut off by Arthur.

“You’re damn right there’s no excuse but if you must, go ahead. Out with it Sir Leon.” Arthur waved his hand in a ‘say it’ motion.

Leon knew this was the time but he wasn’t ready. Sure, Merlin would no doubt find out later when he returned to his chambers, but he didn’t want everyone to find out.

He stared at the Knights looking like a gaping fish. Lancelot began to get concerned. This wasn’t the brave leader he once knew. The man in front of him looked terrified to say the wrong thing, very unlike his Leon.

He walked forward and clapped Leon on the shoulder, speaking gently to him, “What is it Leon? I’ve never seen you this nervous before.” He asked, his concern growing more and more as more silence rang out.

“Well I uhm, uh,” Leon rubbed his face and gathered himself, putting on his stern, knight facade before he spoke almost steadily, “I was taking care of my daughter.”

Silence rang out and Lancelot’s hand dropped from his shoulder as a result of his shock. Arthur looked astonished, Percival and Elyan were gawking from where they stood, Merlin’s eyes went so wide Leon was afraid they would fall right out of their sockets, while Gwaine just looked downright offended.

“Daughter?!” Arthur just managed to choke out before he went silent again.

Leon nodded. “Yes, my daughter. I had just taken her to Gauis and-,” and for the second time today, he was cut off, this time by Merlin.

“Wait, why did you have to take her to Gauis? Is she sick?” He asked worriedly.

Leon nodded grimly.

“Leon…I, I’m sorry for my behavior towards you. It was not right for me to scold you like that.” Arthur apologized but it sounded far more awkward than anything.

“It’s alright, Arthur.” Leon decided to drop the formalities. “If you don’t mind, I would like to go check on how she’s doing?” He asked hopefully.

Arthur nodded. “Of course, Sir Leon.”

Leon smiled and began to back away towards the opening in the fence. Before he got too far away, he called over his shoulder, “You can come meet her if you want.”

Before he knew it, 5 knights and a servant were following behind him like a crowd flaunting their king.

Soon, they’d reached the door to Gauis’ chambers and quietly made their way inside when Leon reminded them that his daughter might be sleeping.

“Papa!” Was the first thing they heard when the door opened.

While Leon continued forward, the rest of them held back to take in the sight. A little girl, not much older than a toddler lay on the patient’s cot with a small rag on her head and a bucket of water next to the bed. They immediately noticed the similarities between Leon and this girl from the shape of their eyes to the identical smile that lit up both of their faces when they saw each other.

“Hello, Love,” Leon called gently as he sat on the bed next to her, comfortingly stroking her like he did this morning. “Papa wants you to meet his friends, okay?”

The girl nodded and stared at the men herded together by the door like a group of chickens about to be sat on the chopping block.

“Boys-,” Leon addressed his friends, “This is my daughter, (Y/N). (Y/N), these are my friends: Arthur, Gwaine, Lancelot, Percival, Elyan, and Merlin. They are the knights that I train with everyday.”

Leon introduced the two groups to each other but no one said a word until Gwaine (That Stupid Bastard™) sauntered forward like he was the talk of the town, threw a hand down on Leon’s shoulder, and asked, “So... who’s the unlucky lady?”

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creativewritingpracticestudio · 5 years

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You’re Brilliant To Me(Insecure!Fred Weasley x Reader)

This takes place in the 4th book, so you and Fred are 16. It’s right before the Weasleys and Harry head off for the Quidditch game. Basically, Fred gets insecure about his intelligence and you’re there to pick him up.

You adored the Weasley household. It was always bright and lively, with never a dull moment. It smelled of fresh-baked cookies and had such a comforting feel to it. Molly would make you something delicious and Bill and Charlie would tell exciting stories from their work and Arthur would talk excitedly about muggle stuff. Ginny would make you friendship bracelets and talk about her latest crush. Percy usually brushed you off, but George would do a funny impression of him to make you laugh. And Ron would show you some cool new things he had gotten or talk about Hermione(as long as you promised not to tell her!).You always felt right at home there. And then there was Fred.

Fred Weasley was, without a doubt, the most amazing boy you’d ever met. He’d caught your eye from the moment you had stepped into class back in 3rd year. Of course, you had heard of him and his twin brother long before this, but never really got to meet him personally. He had been in the middle of putting some kind of extra loud whoopie cushion under his distracted deskmate and, upon succeeding, glanced up in your direction, the evil grin on his face melting into a friendly smile. You had immediately sat with him, and had quickly developed a soft spot for the ginger boy. He was beautiful, with amazingly soft hair and eyes that always held that spark of excitement and an amazing laugh that punctuated all of his hilarious remarks. He could make you laugh or make you smile quite effortlessly. You also became close friends with George Weasley, Fred’s twin, and had been working on getting George together with your friend Angelina.

Although you loved Fred’s looks and humor, you adored his intelligence even more. He had confided in you often about his dreams of owning a prank shop with his brother, and showed you their materials and recipes and price list. Him and George let you sit in with them and watch them make their products. Fred was so proud of his inventions, and held them to his heart. You always made sure to encourage him, clapping and cheering for the pair when their products worked and boosting their self esteem when it didn’t. You adored him, and refused to let him feel like a failure. You helped him with his price lists, his recipes, and his experiments, and, unbeknownst to the twins, had begun stashing away money to help them pay for the shop. His dream was yours.

A few days before the Quidditch tournament, Fred, George and you had been working on a type of toffee that would make people’s toungues bigger. The plan was to drop one that Harry’s bastard cousin Dudley would eat, making him pay for abusing Harry. It was your idea; Harry was like a little brother to you. When they were done, you had cheered as loud as ever, and thrown your arms around the two of them, squeezing them tightly. “I’m so proud of you two! You guys are amazing!” Fred had looked down at you in a way different to how he usually did. You stared up at him, the two of you growing silent as the smiles on your face got bigger. George had glanced at the two of you, shook his head playfully, and sent his brother a knowing glance. He nudged his head towards you meaningfully and turned to leave. “I, uh, think I hear Mum calling. I’ll leave you guys to it, eh?” When he left, Fred pulled away and rubbed his hands together nervously. You got the feeling he’d been planning what he was about to say for a while. “(Y/n).” “Fred.” He blushed. “Listen. We’ve been friends for a while now. And you’ve supported me through a lot. You’ve helped me with so much and you’re always there for me and you’re one of the only people who’s ever believed in me and George and honestly you’re just so bloody amazing, you don’t understand how amazing you are. You’re always so nice to me and so, so beautiful and I just-sweet Merlin. I’m probably gonna mess up our friendship here but I just have to ask or I’ll beat myself up later. Will you be my girlfriend?” You had stood in stunned silence for a second, which Fred took as negative, and he had turned to leave, shoulders slumping with defeat and look of sadness on his face, until you had run over to him and jumped into his arms, hands around his neck. “Of course I will, Freddie!”

It was now the day of the Quidditch game. Dudley had taken the bait, and now Molly was scolding the twins for their prank. Feeling bad, you stepped forward. “Ms. Molly-“ “Just Molly, dear. You’re family of course!” “Oh, thank you. Ms-er, Molly, please don’t punish them too much. I helped them pull the prank. It’s my fault too.” Fred piped up. “(Y/n), no. It’s alright love, you didn’t do anything. It was our idea.” “No, it was mine. I’m sorry Molly. Punish me too.” Molly, not being able to bring herself to punish you, let the three of you off the hook with a warning. Later, Fred and you had walked in to go fetch something, and had heard Molly ranting in the kitchen. Curious, the two of you snuck over to the door and listened in. “I swear, Harry, I don’t know what to do with them! They had the least amount of O.W.Ls in the family! They insist on opening a joke shop for crying out loud! No drive, no ambition. They never use their brains, if they even have them! What am I to do with them?” Fred stiffened beside you, and immediately turned away from the door, his face away from you as he walked towards his room. You followed him, concerned. Molly hadn’t meant anything, of course, but she was frustrated. Poor Fred. You knocked on his door. “Freddie? Can I come in?” No response. You walked in anyway. He was on his bed, facing away from you, curled up with something in his hand. You walked over to him. It was his inventory list. “(Y/n), do you think I’m stupid?” You stared at him, shocked, and then slowly sat on the bed with him, fingers reaching out to stroke his long hair. “Of course not, baby. You’re absolutely brilliant to me. I mean, you made all of these prank materials without help from adults, and you could do amazing spells when you were younger, and you’ve managed to make a price list and an inventory list. You have an entire business on your hands with only help from your twin brother. That’s drive. That’s brilliance. You’re the smartest boy I know.” He looked up at you, and you realized he was close to crying. He smiled at you. “Really?” You nodded at him, and pulled him in close to your kissing his forehead. “Yes. Always will be.” He wiped his eyes, kissed you softly, and then pulled back and grinned. “You’re right, I’m bloody brilliant, aren’t I?” You grinned back at him, startled but relieved by his mood swing. He jumped up and grabbed your arm, pulling you towards the door. “Come on baby, let’s go see if I can use the fake wand trick on Percy. Condescending twat won’t shut up about his job, let’s show him, aye love?” You laughed and followed him, the adoration in your eyes never wavering. He was brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.

#harry potter #harry potter imagine #hp #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #george weasley #bill weasley #charlie weasley #ron weasley #hermione granger #ginny weasley #arthur weasley #molly weasley #percy weasley #weasley twins #weasley family #hp imagine #harry potter x reader

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generallynerdy · 5 years

Text

Our Little Secret Part 14/Finale (Merlin & Child!Reader, Mordred X Reader)

Parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, and 13

Summary: (Y/N) and Merlin have to come to terms with their little secret being revealed. Everyone else has to adjust to the fact that they’ve been lied to for years by the two people they trusted most.

Key: (Y/N) - your name

Warnings: eMoTiONs, mentions of injuries, mentions of near death, recovery, magic-phobia?, u can’t prove that it’s an author insert fuck u

Word Count: 4,236

Note: is it,,,is it over yet? am i free,,,? extra long final (except the epilogue) part bc i love u

“This is harder than I thought it would be,” (Y/N) muttered, legs hanging over the edge of the mountain.

“Really?” Beside her, Merlin snorted. “This isn’t even the worst it could be.”

She looked over at him with wide eyes. “What’s the worst it could be?”

“Uther could still be alive.”

“Touché.”

The pair rested in silence, watching the sun slowly crawl up the sky. Dawn had come a while ago, but they had yet to leave Camlann. Arthur wanted to scour the battlefield for their men, dead and wounded. They gathered all the dead and were giving them proper funerals or packing up their bodies to take back to family, if they had any. The wounded were taken care of by Gaius, but many of them didn’t survive.

(Y/N) had not entered the medic tent again, instead spending her time with Merlin and giving Arthur a few hours time before she dared show her face. It killed her to stay away from Mordred, but she felt it was best.

“I’m sorry for everything,” (Y/N) said suddenly, breaking the silence. “For not talking to you, for not listening to you, either.”

“No, you were right not to,” Merlin admitted, not looking away from the view in front of them. “I was being ridiculous. I was so worried about Mordred being the druid to kill Arthur that I didn’t consider that my decisions might push him to that.”

(Y/N)’s eyes widened. “It wasn’t your fault, Merlin. Morgana controlled him.”

“The only reason he didn’t choose it on his own was because of you,” Merlin said, finally turning to her. “If Arthur had made a decision against magic or someone doing magic, Mordred might have turned. You being here stopped him and I should’ve seen that.”

“So…” She grinned. “Are you sorry for being a clotpole?”

Merlin sighed and put an arm around her, drawing her into a hug. “I’m sorry for being a clotpole.”

It took (Y/N) a while to get the courage to go into the medic tent again. When she did, she saw Leon lingering by Mordred’s cot. Gwen and Arthur were nowhere in sight, nor was Gaius, but he was rather busy as it was.

She wandered over to the cot, pulling up a chair and sitting on the opposite side that Leon did. She didn’t meet his gaze at first, just taking Mordred’s hand and remaining silent.

“(Y/N)?” Leon started.

It took everything in her to ignore him, to look down at her hands and refuse to make eye contact. Though he couldn’t get her complete attention, she was still listening and he knew it.

“I don’t hate you.”

(Y/N)’s head shot up against her own intuition. She didn’t speak, eyebrows lowered and searching his face to see if he was lying.

“I don’t hate you,” he said again, a little louder. “I could never.”

He’d heard what she said to Gaius about being worried that everyone would hate her. What (Y/N) didn’t understand was how he didn’t hate her.

“I’ve been lying to you since I’ve known you,” she said. “How are you not upset?”

Leon sighed. “I’m...upset you didn’t feel like you could trust me with your little secret, but nothing else.”

“You--” (Y/N) tilted her head. “You don’t think magic is evil?”

“Druids saved my life, remember?” He smiled fondly. “Since then, I’ve known magic isn’t innately evil. And neither are you. You’re my friend, my sister. The most evil thing you’ve done to me is have Spot wake me up in the morning.”

(Y/N) laughed shakily, remembering it fondly. She did it a little too often, more than Leon would like, but it was entertaining.

“The others don’t hate you, either,” Leon said.

She shook her head. “You don’t know that.”

“I’m sure of it. If they really love and care about you, then this won’t change anything,” he told her. “It hasn’t for me.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, moving her hand from Mordred’s to his, making him smile.

There was a pause before he squeezed her hand and stood, letting go. “I’ll check on the others. Take care of him.”

“I will,” (Y/N) muttered as he left.

For a good while, (Y/N) was left alone. She dozed off a few times, trying to get much needed rest. Gaius dropped by and checked on her wounds, which were luckily minor. She never left Mordred’s side, constantly making sure he was alright. It took him a few hours, just as Merlin predicted, before he began to stir.

“(Y/N)?” He croaked out, opening his eyes slowly.

She snapped to attention and smiled, holding his hand. When he started to sit up, she stopped him. “Careful, careful. Merlin said you’d be sore.”

“Ow,” he muttered, but froze. He smiled slightly. “The spell worked.”

In his moment of awe, (Y/N) leaned forward and took him in her arms. She held him tightly and felt his arms wrap around her lovingly.

“I was terrified,” she whispered. “I thought I’d lost you.”

Mordred let her go for just a second, drawing closer to her face and caressing her cheek. “It was you that brought me back,” he muttered. “Seeing you broke the spell.”

“I love you, too,” she said, echoing some of his dying words. She kissed him softly, hand buried in his messy curls.

After that, they spoke in hushed tones. (Y/N) updated Mordred on what had happened. They held a brief moment of silence for Morgana, remembering the woman she had once been. She told him about what Leon said to her and he celebrated with her, but then the conversation was drawn to the topic of their magic.

“They all know about my little secret now, too,” Mordred muttered. “The rumours can’t have passed by them.”

(Y/N) took his hand. “We’ll be okay.”

“You really believe that?”

“We’ve been through so much worse, Mordred,” she said firmly.

He laughed a little. “Fair enough. I have almost died twice-- and that’s not counting my childhood.”

They shared a laugh that was interrupted by a dog’s yip. Spot raced in from out of nowhere, trying to jump on Mordred’s bed and smother him. (Y/N) reprimanded him and he soon calmed down, but neither of them knew where he came from.

Unbeknownst to them, Gwen and Gaius had kept him in the medic tent the whole time, keeping the loyal dog from harm.

There were many bridges to cross on the way home, but at least they had each other.

Back in Camelot, rumours flew left and right. The majority of the population was aware of Mordred’s presence in the city and were furious, confused as to why Arthur would harbour an enemy. He planned to speak on his behalf, but he wanted answers from Merlin and (Y/N) first.

Meanwhile, the animosity, or at least tension, between (Y/N) and the other knights did not go unnoticed. Merlin’s temporary absence from his master’s side was noticed, too, as was Mordred’s stay in the court physician’s quarters rather than his own in the knights’ quarters. The entire tightly knit group of Arthur’s closest friends seemed to be falling apart, for reasons unknown to everyone.

One day, (Y/N) was summoned to the throne room, though Mordred, Merlin, and Gaius were told to remain behind.

When she arrived there, after nonstop reassurances from the Merlin to the young knight, she found that it was not the council gathered, but instead her friends. Gwen and Arthur sat on their thrones, while the knights stood dutifully about the room. (Y/N) had a distinct feeling that this was not a purely social audience.

Arthur began to question her, as if she was a suspect in a crime. Leon shot her uncomfortable glances, wishing he could make it stop.

“How long has Merlin been teaching you?”

Merlin had already had a long discussion with Arthur, giving him practically his whole life story, from his father, to his mother, to his powers, to the dragon he freed from under Camelot. Arthur knew almost everything about him. Now, it was (Y/N)’s turn.

“Since a few years after I met you, my lord,” she said.

His expression showed no change. “Who knew about your...little secret?”

“Merlin, Gaius, Mordred-- ever since we were little.” She began to list them off, remembering each fondly. She paused, saying the next name too quietly for him to hear.

“Speak up.”

(Y/N) sighed. “Lancelot.”

Leon shot her a sympathetic glance and Gwen looked absolutely decimated by this fact. A few sombered, but the expressions were gone as quickly as they had appeared.

“Morgana knew, too,” (Y/N) muttered.

Arthur lowered his eyebrows. “You told her?”

“No, sire,” she stammered. “She, uh, had me followed and I didn’t realize. It was a while before Ismere-- just after we buried Lancelot.”

Suddenly, Arthur asked a question that left her dumbfounded.

“Have you ever used magic against someone? Or to get what you wanted?” He asked stiffly.

Her jaw dropped as she looked up at him, appalled that he could even ask her such a question. She glanced around at the others, as if asking whether they believed she could be capable of that, but most of them didn’t make eye contact. Elyan just looked away, perhaps ashamed at the question. Gwaine stared right through her, which was arguably more chilling. Percival was the only one to meet her eye. She couldn’t read him, though. (Y/N) didn’t know what he meant, looking at her like that.

“No, sir,” she said firmly, teeth clenched. “The worst I’ve done is defend myself.”

“And the second part?” He questioned further.

She paused. “One thing.” They all looked terrified, but she smiled. “I used my magic to help a little druid boy escape the castle, a long time ago. Morgana, Merlin, and my lady were there. You were, too.”

She spoke bravely and Arthur went silent after that, his eyes darkened with reminiscence. They had saved Mordred long ago, even though he was a druid. (Y/N) was trying to remind her king of this.

“I asked Merlin to take me as an apprentice the day I met him,” she said, taking her turn to give a speech. She was young, but she had so much to say. “I started a few years later and I-- I didn’t realise what I was getting myself into. I didn’t understand the secret I had to keep, the people I had to keep it from. I didn’t understand the consequences. But I did later. And I could’ve easily given up then, but I didn’t. My magic is part of who I am, it has been for a long time. Just because you know about it now doesn’t change me. But I am sorry, deeply sorry, that I’ve hurt you-- all of you.”

As (Y/N) was leaving the throne room, she did not see Leon go to follow her.

“Leon--” Elyan started, grabbing his arm to stop him.

The senior knight turned to him with a frown. He looked at all of them gathered, who were staring at him, waiting for his move. He scoffed a little and pulled away from Elyan’s grip, shaking his head at them.

“I can’t believe you,” he said to them as a friend, rather than a knight. “It’s (Y/N).”

With that said, he was met with silence. He shook his head again and rushed out of the throne room, catching up to (Y/N). He took her arm and they started toward god knows where.

As soon as he left, Percival took a second to think before following him. No one dared stop the giant, nor did they dare even try. He caught up to Leon and (Y/N). They didn’t make him say a thing, simply letting him join them. That was enough of an apology-- and a reassurance.

Later, when (Y/N) returned to check on Mordred, she was accompanied by Percival. Leon had to abandon them earlier for work purposes.

Entering Gaius’ chambers, they found Mordred asleep in his bed, but he was not alone. Sitting in a chair pulled up beside him was Queen Guinevere, who looked up as they walked in. (Y/N) froze up and turned to Percival, but wasn’t sure what to say.

“(Y/N),” Gwen said. “Can we talk?”

“Of course, my lady--” She began.

Gwen interrupted her with a shake of her head. “Just as friends,” she smiled.

Percival cleared his throat and nodded at both of them. “I’ll just--” he started, backing away from the room. “Goodnight.”

(Y/N) closed the door behind him as he left. When she and the queen were left alone, there was silence. The young knight crossed the room to Mordred’s bed, checking on him as he snored lightly. She couldn’t help smiling to herself at his peaceful slumber, but let the smile fall when she noticed Gwen staring.

Trying to avoid conversation, (Y/N) lifted her hand and began a spell, gesturing to the pitcher of water on the table. She stopped instantly when she saw Gwen’s eyes widen, the yellow glow in her own eyes fading.

She started to walk toward the pitcher, but Gwen spoke, stopping her.

“You shouldn’t have to hide it,” she said.

(Y/N) reeled. “What?”

“You don’t have to hide it now,” Gwen repeated. “Why avoid using it if there’s no consequence anymore?”

“I--” (Y/N) sighed. “I don’t know if Arthur would like that.”

The queen smiled. “Well, he’s not here now, is he?”

She was shaken by the queen’s easy going reply. Unsure, she lifted her hand again. She finished the enchantment this time and the pitcher went flying into her hand, spilling just a little bit of water. Two cups flew over from the table at her command as well and soon she was pouring the liquid into them. (Y/N) passed one to Gwen and kept one for herself, pulling up another chair beside her.

“Did you know?” (Y/N) asked her suddenly.

“About your little secret?” Gwen laughed. “No, of course not.”

The younger one tilted her head. “Then how are you so...unbothered by this?”

“I just think it explains a lot,” she admitted. “Besides, I’ve suspected Merlin for a long time.”

“You’re kidding,” (Y/N) gaped.

“He’s not exactly conspicuous,” Gwen laughed.

She shrugged with a fond smile. “Well, he’s kept it hidden for this long.”

“Fair enough.”

“What made you think he had magic? When were you really sure he was hiding something?” (Y/N) asked out of pure curiosity.

Gwen sighed. “You were so angry with him after Mordred came back with that spear injury, the one that almost killed him. I didn’t understand until I considered that he might have magic. You were upset because he wouldn’t heal him, weren’t you?”

“He refused,” (Y/N) confirmed, nodding solemnly. “I stopped talking to him after that.”

“I don’t blame you. If someone did the same to Arthur…” She trailed off, not even wanting to think about it.

It was beginning to get dark, so (Y/N) lit a few candles, requiring just a simple spell. Gwen almost awed at it, which made the young knight flustered. No one had ever taken this much of an interest in her magic, not since Lancelot.

“It really doesn’t bother you?”

“Absolutely not,” Gwen reassured her. “It explains so much and-- and it sounds silly, but I feel like I know you better now.”

(Y/N) could not help hugging her friend, burying her head in her shoulder. “Thank you,” she whispered. “It means so much to me.”

A soft knocking came from the door and both women turned their attention to a short figure entering the room. It was Elyan, who seemed to have been there for a good while. He had heard at least the last part of their conversation, which (Y/N) felt red in the face about. Gwen looked rather pleased with herself, though.

The queen stood and crossed the room, taking her brother’s wrist and dragging him back over to (Y/N). The young knight stood from her chair to meet them, remaining silently confused by whatever was happening.

“Tell her,” Gwen said firmly to her brother.

Elyan took a deep breath. “(Y/N), I--” He glanced at Gwen, who nodded. “I’m sorry I’ve been treating you terribly. To be honest, I was...not happy when I found out about your little secret. Magic killed our father and since then--”

“I understand,” (Y/N) said quickly.

“No, wait,” Elyan stammered. “Just because one sorcerer killed my father doesn’t mean every sorcerer will be just as bad and you certainly won’t. I don’t know what came over me. I’m sorry.”

Before she could say a word, he hugged her tightly, almost cutting off her airflow. She laughed, telling him it was okay and hugging him back. Gwen stared on proudly at her work, as it had taken hours to convince her brother to speak to (Y/N). Though she still could not convince Arthur to work out these things, at least she could get Elyan to do so.

“I love both of you so much,” (Y/N) said softly, dragging Gwen into the hug. “You’re like the siblings I never had.”

As Arthur had yet to speak about the rumours going around that (Y/N) and Merlin were sorcerers, the former was loathe to go outside. However, when she heard that Gwaine had left the castle and run off without any sign of where he went, she knew she had to do something. She had a feeling she knew where he was-- and a feeling that he was waiting for her.

She found him in the clearing outside the city, just where she thought he would be. It was here the old Lancelot had been put the rest, because it was such a perfect place for him. It was here Gwaine had trained (Y/N), because she thought Lancelot being there would help her. It was here Morgana had discovered her little secret.

“Gwaine?” (Y/N) asked quietly.

He was standing above the stone, holding the hilt of his sword so firmly that it looked as if it might shatter like glass. “I knew I could never replace him,” he said without turning around. “I knew I could never be as perfect as he was. I knew I couldn’t be him.”

“Gwaine--” She tried to say.

“But to not tell me about this?” His voice betrayed him as he turned, eyes wet with tears. “To know that I was nothing compared to Gaius, to Merlin, to Lancelot, to Mordred? To find out I was nothing in your heart? Why, (Y/N)?”

“I couldn’t tell you,” she sobbed. Her heart was already broken at his words. “I wanted to-- I planned to after Ismere, but-- but--”

She took a deep breath, trying to shove away the memories. She didn’t want to remember Ismere, much less what Morgana had done to her there. However, she needed to tell Gwaine what had kept her from telling him everything. He had to know that he was just as important to her as the others, that she meant so much to him that she would rather have died than have him hate her for this.

“Morgana found out about my magic, like I said. But she knew I had to be taught by someone. She used you-- you and Percival against me,” (Y/N) said, shuddering as she did. “To find out who taught me. She needed to know who Emrys was, the one destined to destroy her-- that was Merlin. I almost told her. I would have told her, given time. After we got out, I knew I couldn’t tell any of you. If you knew about Merlin, who he was to Morgana, then she could have tortured you, pulled it from you and I-- I would’ve been to blame.”

“I wouldn’t have told her,” Gwaine hissed. “Do you trust me so little?”

(Y/N) leapt at him and wrapped him in her embrace. “I know you wouldn’t have. I just didn’t want her to have any reason to torture you like she did with me. I didn’t want you to get hurt.” She kissed his cheek, still shaking. “You mean so much to me. You’re not New Lancelot-- you haven’t been for a long time. You’re Gwaine.”

Arthur was the last one left.

Everyone else had approached, apologised, and asked more about (Y/N) and Merlin’s magic. In fact, many of them were rather curious about the whole thing. They were amazed by the range of bullshit the two could get up to with the assistance of their magic alone.

Meanwhile, the king refused to talk to either of them. He had shut himself off from the world, from everyone, even Gwen. She was scared for him and begged (Y/N) to step in. Perhaps she could appear unthreatening to him, unlike Merlin. Perhaps she could get through to the man.

She caught him alone in the throne room one morning, a place where he was cornered. He sat upon his throne and watched her with curious eyes. Then, he stood, leaning over the back of the chair and sighing.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” He asked.

“I wanted to more than anything,” she said in almost a whisper. “But I was just a child. I was so scared. I was terrified of Uther, of Agravaine, of someone discovering me and-- and what you might do if you found out.”

She noticed his face flash in betrayal and sadness for a second, but it disappeared in an instant.

“I didn’t want you to have to decide between saving me or following the law. It wasn’t fair,” she muttered. “And I didn’t want--”

She stopped.

“Didn’t want what? To die?” He laughed coldly. “Can’t blame you there.”

“Every day of my life was a risk. I could’ve died any day, but I didn’t want to die at your hand.” She took a deep breath. “But more than anything, I-- Arthur, you have every reason to hate magic. You have every reason to hate it for what it’s done to you, for what people have done to you using it.”

It was true, every word that she spoke. Magic had killed Arthur’s family; corrupted them, tortured them. Arthur had every reason to despise magic and neither Merlin nor (Y/N) could deny that.

“I was terrified that hate would translate to me,” she admitted.

His eyes softened and he looked upon her with wonder. “You thought I would hate you? Why?”

“Because--” She scoffed. “Because I chose to practice something that had done such harm to you, to all of us. I just didn’t want you to hate me and-- and I still don’t.”

Suddenly, the king crossed the room. He paused, standing there in front of her. That little girl who had stood up to him about punishing Merlin unjustly was gone. She was a woman now, a powerful sorceress that Arthur owed for a great many things. Part of him was still upset, both at her and himself for the fact that she hadn’t told him, that she felt she couldn’t trust him enough to tell him about her magic. But the other part held nothing but love for her.

It was this part of him that took over when he hugged her, shocking her to the point where she froze.

“I don’t hate you,” he whispered. “I’m upset you didn’t tell me and I don’t know how long it will be before we can fully trust each other again, but I don’t-- and I will never-- hate you, (Y/N).”

The young knight sniffed heavily and hugged her king, who was more like her brother at this moment. She took in a deep breath and almost laughed out of relief.

“You’ll talk to Merlin, won’t you? Tell him the same thing?”

“I don’t know. I look at him and I want to punch his teeth out.”

“Call me crazy, Arthur, but that sounds about normal.”

Elsewhere…

A small hut in the woods was practically invisible to those who did not seek it out directly.

Inside this hut, a girl in a dark cloak pulled its hood over her face. She mixed herbs and vials together in a small bowl. It produced a blood red liquid, which she gathered in a tiny bottle, shaking it about. She turned to face a long wooden table that held a great weight on its ancient legs.

A dead man lied upon it, his dark hair and beard ratted. He was dressed in rugged peasants’ clothing, an outfit unfitting for a knight of his standing.

The witch-- ahem, sorceress-- took the bottle carefully and poured it into his mouth, forcing him to swallow it. After a moment of unresponsiveness, the dead man gasped into his lungs his second breath of first life. He looked around wildly, but was tied to the table as a precaution.

Meanwhile, the girl turned and smiled at him. “Alright, you handsome bastard. Up and at ‘em. I didn’t murder a man for nothing. Time to send you back to Camelot before my readers murder me.”

Merlin Tags: @pearlll09

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readyourimgaines · 5 years

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Maybe for merthur you could write something where Merlin is tricked into drinking a love potion, but he doesn’t act any differently. I love that trope so much!

Freddie here. This was amazingly fun to write and I never would have thought of this one my own so I thank you deeply. I hope you enjoy.

Merlin got good at hiding a lot of things. His magic, the secrets of others, his feelings for Arthur, and probably a few other things he’d forgotten about because they had been hidden for so long.

Most rivals and enemies would disregard Merlin as a fumbling servant boy but Morgana knew better because she’d had conversations with Merlin; she knew how smart the young man really was. Arthur also knew Merlin was smarter than he let on, so Morgana knew the real way to regress Arthur to a pile of useless jelly was to lose Merlin.

She didn’t want to try and “fake” Merlin having magic. If the Witchfinder had been found out (and wrong)- Merlin himself confessing when Gwen’s father was to be killed- she knew she couldn’t fake it. However...putting him under the effects of a love potion? That she could do.

Though there weren’t many of them, there were a handful of Druids who believed the legend was wrong. If Arthur was to unite the lands of Albion, why hadn’t he done so in his two and a half years on the throne? So there were a couple of people Morgana could choose from to slip Merlin a love potion. She knew just the person. A young, unassuming, girl by the name of Hilda.

***

Merlin lifted the tray with Arthur’s breakfast just as the tea Hilda was making finished. Quickly, she added the vial of love potion to it.

“Merlin,” Hilda said sweetly.

“Yes? Oh! Hilda, right?”

“Yes. I made you tea as a thank you for helping me when I got lost yesterday.” She placed the cup on the tray Merlin was holding. “Raspberry leaf tea with some extra little spice.”

“Oh. Uh, thank you.” Merlin smiled. “Don’t worry if it takes you a little while to learn your way around. The servants are really helpful and kind. Most of the knights are super kind. Just watch out for Gwaine; he’s a flirt.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Well thank you again, Merlin.”

“Of course. I’m always around somewhere if you have any questions. Now, I hate to run, but I’ve got to wake the king.”

***

Merlin silently opened the door to Arthur’s chambers and it took everything in him not to wake the king by kissing him. Instead, he set the tray on the desk, went to the window, and whipped the curtains open. “Good morning, Sire.” He got a moan in reply. “Come on. I got your favorite breakfast. Even got you a sweet roll.” That got the king’s attention like Merlin knew it would. “Would you like to eat or dress first?”

“I do like the thought of food.” Arthur decided. “What’s in the mug?”

“Oh! One of the new maids made me tea.” Merlin smiled as he set to picking out Arthur’s clothes. What surprised Merlin was that Arthur didn’t take a sip of tea.

“There’s a new maid?” Arthur sounded confused. “Who?”

“Her name’s Hilda.”

“Come sit.”

“What?”

“Come enjoy your tea.” Arthur chuckled. Merlin shook his head with a small smile but sat down across from Arthur nonetheless. Arthur cut the sweet roll in half and slid it across the plate closer to Merlin and nodded towards it.

Merlin took a sip of the tea and Arthur laughed at the face he pulled. “I’ve never tasted anything so sweet in my life.” Merlin coughed. “The girl’s kind enough but I thank the gods she’s not a new cook.”

Ten minutes later, Merlin was done with his tea and his half of the sweet roll so he set to making Arthur’s bed while he finished his meal. Arthur caught sight of the few drops left in Merlin’s cup.

“Merlin?”

“Yes?”

“How are you feeling?” Arthur’s mind was swimming.

“Fine. Why do you ask?” Merlin looked up from the bed and was met firmly with Arthur’s gaze. “Honestly. I’m not going to faint,” he scoffed.

“I’m taking you to Gaius. I’ve never seen pink tea before.”

“It was raspberry leaf. There’s probably some berry in it.” Merlin tried to dismiss. He figured that wasn’t the case- there never so lucky- he just didn’t feel like dealing with being poisoned again.

Not taking no for an answer, Arthur took the cup, Merlin’s arm, and all but dragged him to Gaius.”

***

“And you’re sure you haven’t noticed Merlin acting strange, Sire?” It must have been the third time Gaius asked the damned question.

“No. Not even fevered.” Arthur sighed. “What’s the poison?”

“Merlin, a word.” And they left an annoyed and worried Arthur by himself.

“What’s the matter?” Merlin asked once his bedroom door was closed.

“It’s a love potion.”

“What?”

“It’s not a poison at all. It’s a love potion and a pretty powerful one at that.” Gaius said.

“He’ll hang me.” Merlin sank onto his bed.

“Do you know why it’s not affecting you?” Gaius asked slowly.

Merlin burst into tears. “I wasn’t going to say anything. One more useless secrete.”

“You love him.”

“More than anything. And now I’m doomed.”

“I haven’t told him what it is, my boy. I’ll tell him it’s a fairly mild poison, you get a couple days off, and it’s forgotten about.” Gaius offered.

“Perhaps it’s time I come clean…” Merlin considered. “I’m tired of hiding, Gaius.”

“Is now a good time?”

“Morgana hasn’t tried anything in a few weeks. It might be the best time… I need to tell him, Gaius.” Merlin wiped his eyes with his sleeve.

“That you love him or of your magic?”

“Both. We don’t know if the potion isn’t affecting me because I already love him or if my magic has something to do with it.” That being said, the two headed back to Arthur, Merlin drying at eyes with his sleeve again.

“He’ll be alright, Sire. I’ll allow Merlin to explain; I have to my rounds.” Gaius pressed a kiss to Merlin’s forehead before he left.

“So what happened? Are you alright? You’re crying.” Arthur rattled off.

“I’m fine.” The ‘for now’ was left unsaid. “It wasn’t a poison… It was a love potion. There are two possible reasons behind why it’s not affecting me.”

“Well what are they?” Arthur asked and Merlin stiffened. “Now you’re acting different.”

Merlin chuckled. “There are a couple things I should have told you long ago. Please, know I had to hide. I didn’t want to lie to you.”

“What are you talking about?” Arthur’s confusion mixed with worry more.

“I have magic.” Merlin’s voice was a scared whisper. He flinched when Arthur laughed but the laugh was short lived.

“You’re serious?”

“I was born with it. It’s why my mother sent me to with Gaius. Ealdore wasn’t save for me anymore.” Merlin grew more fearful when Arthur didn’t reply. “Please say something.”

“How did I not notice? The tree branches conveniently falling at just the right time, bandits just dropping their swords… All the times you were tucked under bushes and behind trees..”

“I was hiding from you and the knights so I could aid with magic without being seen.” Merlin was trying to stop crying in vain as Arthur tried to remain calm.

“How were you born with magic?”

“Do you remember the Dragon Lord, Balinor?”

“What of him?” Arthur’s eyes narrowed.

“He was my father. I-I didn’t know until the day we left to find him. Gaius told me.” Merlin gave up on stopping his tears.

“You’ve been using your magic to defend Camelot?” Arthur was still trying to wrap his mind around how his fumbling, clumsy, servant, and best friend could possibly have magic.

“Since the night Uther made me your servant.”

“Wait. The day we met you said you could take me apart with less than one blow-”

“I meant it.” Merlin’s small laugh brought a smile to Arthur’s face.

“Nothing is going to happen to you, Merlin. No harm will come to you.” Arthur’s eyes met Merlin’s and the warlock knew his king was telling the truth. “I trust you. I shouldn’t- you’ve been hiding this from me for years- but you’re safe and you’re going to remain so. What’s the second possibility?”

Merlin’s laugh was harsh and wet. “I thought telling I have magic was going to be the hard part.” Merlin cast his eyes to the ceiling before he spoke. “I’ve been in love with you for years.” Merlin looked back to Arthur. “A love potion wouldn’t have affected how-”

Merlin was cut off by Arthur pressing a kiss to his lips, both hands on either side of his face. When they pulled apart, Arthur dried Merlin’s tears with the pads of his thumbs.

“I’ve been in love you since I saw you curled up that blanket the week you were recovering from the Mortiase Flower.” Arthur took Merlin’s hand and pulled him towards the door. “Now come with me. I have to do something.”

“What’s that?” Merlin tried to keep the fear from his voice despite Arthur having just kissed him.

“Lift the ban on Magic and make you Court Warlock.”

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generallynerdy · 5 years

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Our Little Secret Part 8 (Merlin & Child!Reader, Mordred X Reader)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

Summary: (Y/N) isn’t going to let her nightmares of her time with Morgana prevent her from having the time of her life at Mordred’s first ball. Between comfort from Elyan and his sister, she feels like she’s on top of the world. Little does she know, she’s about to get impossibly higher.

Key: (Y/N) - your name Warnings: fluff? maybe?, nightmares, mentions of torture, mentions of kidnapping, hyperventilation, panic attack, baby chapter Word Count: 1,650

Note: if someone correctly guesses the amount of ‘our/their/your/my little secret’ this series has by the end of it i will personally drag Lancelot from the grave in an epilogue and that’s a promise

also probably not a surprise but Mordred!!!!! i love him okay

When a chilling scream echoed through the knights’ quarters, the many awoken by the noise knew immediately who it was that was screaming. Unless someone had dumped spiders in Gwaine’s pillowcase again, that effeminate scream was definitely (Y/N)’s. Half the garrison was awake in minutes, while heavy sleepers managed to ignore the noise.

The knights of the round table were outside (Y/N)’s room in seconds, all except Elyan. When they arrived at her door, they found the door creaked slightly open and heard quiet, unmistakable sobs from inside.

Leon was about to enter, but Percival grabbed his shoulder, shaking his head. Pointing into the room, the others followed his direction and leaned around each other to get a glimpse inside. (Y/N) was already accompanied by someone.

Elyan himself had been in her room in milliseconds and was already sitting upon her bed, letting her cry onto his shoulder.

The other knights backed away, agreeing that Elyan had a good handle on things and it was better not to overwhelm (Y/N). Gwaine was the first to suggest that she had a nightmare and, remembering her ordeal with Morgana, they all figured he was right.

Inside, (Y/N) was having difficulty breathing.

“(Y/N), (Y/N),” Elyan chimed, speaking in soft tones. “You’re alright. You’re safe. Breathe. Just breathe.”

She tried to do as he said, though she found it difficult. “I-- I was-- I was in chains again,” she said through raspy gasps of air. “Morgana was above me, she-- she--”

When she started to hyperventilate again, Elyan stopped her. “That’s fine. You don’t have to tell me. Just steady yourself. Focus on breathing. We’ll get to the rest later.”

For the large part of half an hour, (Y/N) leaned against her friend silently. He whispered words of comfort every once in a while, but was mostly concerned with steadying his breathing so that she would follow suit. After that time, she did, but begged Elyan not to make her speak of her nightmare.

“It was awful,” she muttered. “I don’t want to think about it.”

Elyan shook his head. “You don’t have to. I know how bad nightmares can be. Being tortured isn’t easy to recover from.”

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He put a reassuring arm around her shoulder. “I’ll always be here if you need.”

“Um,” she started, looking up at him. “Could we...keep the nightmares between us? I just don’t want the others to worry. I know they heard it for sure tonight, but if it happens again…”

“Of course,” Elyan nodded, leaning over to kiss the side of her head fondly. “Our little secret.”

It had been a long time since Camelot had a good ball. Everyone was eager to attend this one, especially the knights. Those that weren’t on duty outside of the hall were allowed to join in at their pleasure, whether they wanted to dance, talk, or eat. Knowing those buffoons, it would be all three, though they couldn’t be blamed. Between all the attacks on Camelot and its allies, they needed a break.

(Y/N) entered alone that night, wearing the finest gown she could find, though she didn’t have many. She searched for Mordred among the crowd, unfortunately not able to see him.

“(Y/N)!” A sweet voice called her attention.

She turned to see Gwen and bowed her head in response. “My lady.”

“Oh, you look wonderful,” the woman gushed, taking her by the arm and leading her across the room so they could talk.

(Y/N) smiled. “I look like a mess, Gwen. You, on the other hand--”

“You look gorgeous, (Y/N). You’re kidding yourself.” Gwen dropped the subject and glanced around the room. “I don’t expect you’ll be alone the whole night, through?”

“I should hope not,” (Y/N) said, a sheepish smile painting her face. “But I haven’t seen him yet.”

Gwen sighed and patted her arm. “He’ll be here. This ball is in his honour, after all.”

(Y/N) opened her mouth to speak, but someone cleared their throat, interrupting their conversation briefly. They both looked to see Gwaine, bowing deeply at Gwen before lifting his head slightly.

“Your majesty,” he greeted, holding out his hand to (Y/N). “If I might borrow Lady (Y/N) for a dance?”

Gwen laughed and turned to (Y/N), who rolled her eyes at the knight. “Only if she is willing to suffer your company, Sir Gwaine,” Gwen teased.

“I suppose I can manage,” (Y/N) laughed, taking his hand.

It wasn’t long before the poor young woman found herself trapped in a round robin of dances with the knights. It was good fun for all parties concerned, especially Gwaine, who stole at least three dances before letting the others have a single one.

“You should share,” She teased him.

“Mm, no,” he said nonchalantly. “I don’t think so.”

Rolling her eyes, (Y/N) huffed. “You can’t dance with me the whole time.”

“No,” he agreed. “Just until Mordred gets here.”

She sputtered and, failing to come up with a sarcastic reply, hit his shoulder. He groaned a little, but laughed nonetheless. “What is that supposed to mean?” (Y/N) hissed.

“I know young love when I see it, darling. And you are smitten,” he laughed.

Before (Y/N) could say another word, the music ended and Gwaine was shoved aside. “Alright, you’ve had enough time,” Elyan huffed. “Stop being a selfish prat.”

When the dancing was temporarily stopped, (Y/N) bowed to her current partner, Percival, who kissed her hand, before stepping away to get a drink.

As she was headed to the refreshments’ table, however, she ran into a familiar face.

“Mordred!” She exclaimed with a smile.

Mordred looked rather dashing in his ceremonial armour, though (Y/N) had seen him in it at his knighting. She embraced him tightly and he smiled shyly, noticing the glance of a few of the knights on the other side of the room.

“I was starting to worry,” she said. “Did you get lost?”

He sighed. “Leon had me polishing boots this morning and I didn’t finish until just now.”

“I’ll kill him, I swear,” (Y/N) huffed, but suddenly brightened. “But you’re here now. Time to enjoy yourself!”

Right about then, the music started up again and people flocked to the middle of the hall to dance. (Y/N) ignored Mordred’s protests and practically dragged him there, joining the other nobles in a circle.

“I don’t know the first thing about dancing,” he whispered harshly.

She smiled and squeezed his hand reassuringly. “Just follow my lead.”

By the time the festivities ended, (Y/N) and Mordred were out of breath. They laughed hysterically, danced with light feet, and could not stop smiling. The ball was not quite yet over when they decided to stop dancing, (Y/N) taking Mordred’s hand and dragging him out of the castle to the gardens.

“I need some air,” she gasped, smiling all the while.

Once outside, they walked at a leisurely pace, (Y/N) twirling about and gushing about the night, probably slightly tipsy. Mordred amused her, even when she took his hand in hers, swinging them back and forth. He thought it was adorable and it flustered him.

“Oh, don’t you regret never going to a ball in your life?” She sighed dreamily.

He laughed and shook his head. “Not really.” Before she could be offended, he interrupted her. “Then I wouldn’t have enjoyed this with you. It wouldn’t be the same experience.”

She met his eyes with a smile, leaning in closer while their hands remained intertwined. “I never imagined this when I met you. I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

“I didn’t either,” he muttered, looking at her with such fondness in his eyes that she thought she would melt. “(Y/N)?”

“Yes?”

“After all this time, how do you know I’m still the same person?” he whispered.

She stopped in place and turned to face him. “What do you mean? Of course you’re not the same person.”

“How do you know--” He took a deep breath. “How do you know I’m still a good person.”

“Mordred,” she sighed, putting her hand against his cheek as she loved to do. “The first thing you did when you came back was save Arthur’s life. Then, you saved mine. I know you’re a good person because you keep showing me you are.”

He laughed quietly. “Even if I’m a druid?”

“Who cares?” She teased. “Magic doesn’t make us evil. It’s what we do with it that counts. After all--”

Before (Y/N) could finish her sentence, Mordred’s lips were against hers, dragging her into a kiss. She swore stars exploded in her vision as he took her by the waist and drew her in closer to him. She placed her arms comfortably around his neck, hands resting on the back of his head.

When he pulled away, slightly raspy from a lack of air, he turned a bright red. “Sorry if that was too forward of me. It just-- it just felt right.”

He searched her face for any sign of apprehension, but found none. In fact, she pulled him in for another kiss, smiling into it this time. The closeness she felt at that moment was unlike any she had felt before. (Y/N) felt as though Mordred’s arms were the only home she needed, the only place she truly felt so safe.

She backed away again, laughing quietly to herself. “You’re right. That felt perfect.”

They shared silent glances, still pressing their foreheads together and exchanging sweet, soft kisses. (Y/N)’s hands played in his curls, making him smile just a little.

“I won’t say anything if you don’t,” he laughed, almost like a child.

(Y/N) shook her head. “You’ve bought my silence. It’ll just be our little secret.”

Merlin Tags: @pearlll09

Part 9

Masterlist

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