#or laughing at something gwen has said (merlin's smile is something that lancelot can instantly recall from memory) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bellamyblakru · 3 years

Note

For the adorable cliche prompts 49 & Merthur ❤️

oh my god i am so sorry for how late this is. like im months late. i apologize 😭😭my writing drive has been so shit, but i got the random urge today and i wrote like over 4,000 words in one sitting💀💀 i hope this is okay!!! again, i am so sorry akskksks i hope you like it, my lovely mutual❤️❤️

ill add it under the cut and it is right here on ao3! without further ado, i present: merthur + anxiety + you caught me doing something dangerous and flipped out

Merlin smiled at the servants as he passed them.

One step in front of the other, the warlock smiled on, ignoring the growing blood stain beneath his tunic. He was lightheaded, growing more unsteady as he walked through the darkened halls of the castle. He could make it to his chambers, he knew, if he just willed a bit more magic to staunch the flow of the wound.

He paused in the middle of an abandoned corridor, leaning his head against the cold stone of the wall as he focused his power. His magic flickered sadly, already working overtime to keep him conscious. But, as always, it answered his call. Merlin felt his magic simmer over the injury as he let out a small breath of relief.

Straightening up, Merlin stumbled his way into Gaius’s workroom, and he did not collapse until he made it to his small room in the back.

He stared and stared at the ceiling, wondering if anyone else could feel the world spinning. He figured he should worry about that, but his magic prickled his mind then—reminding him to sleep.

So, Merlin relented, and he fell instantly into a restless slumber.

Waking up with a gasp, the warlock shot up in his bed. He narrowed his eyes at the light coming through his window, wondering how on earth he got here. The last thing he remembered was reading the threat against Arthur that was hidden in the king’s letters and thinking how to stop it…but the rest of the day came back blurry. He shook his head. The day needed to start—even if Merlin couldn’t remember what he did the day before, even as that thought slightly terrified him.

He moved to the edge of the bed, swinging his feet over, and he tried to stand up. The minute his feet touched the ground, the room swayed, and he came crashing back onto his cot. Merlin groaned at the searing pain in his abdomen. Lifting his tunic, he gently prodded the bruised area that covered most of his torso.

His answer was solved, then. He must have found the threat and eradicated it, and this was his gift for doing so. Grimacing, Merlin slowly got to his feet and limped to his mirror. Looking over to his left, the warlock saw some wrapping he could use to cover the damage. Doing so, rather gingerly, he frowned at the ache. His magic usually smoothed away these pain and bruises quickly—it was why a bruise never lasted more than a few hours on him. Shrugging the thought away, however, figuring it must be taking a bit more power than usual, he threw on his purple tunic and plastered a smile on his face.

By the time Merlin arrived at Arthur’s door with breakfast, a sweat had broken out against his neck and back. Panting a bit, Merlin shoved the wooden door open revealing an already awoken Arthur staring through the window.

“You’re late.” Merlin heard Arthur grumble.

“Yeah, sorry.” Merlin couldn’t think of a lie that suited him, so that’s all he said.

Arthur turned around. “That’s it? ‘Sorry’?”

Merlin grinned. Arthur rolled his eyes, moving to sit at his desk where Merlin dropped off his food. Arthur watched him tidy up the room for a few moments before blurting out: “Let’s go out.”

Merlin turned around, an eyebrow raised. “Out?”

Merlin swore he saw Arthur’s cheeks redden. The king coughed. “With the knights. You know, like a hunting trip.”

Laughing a bit at Arthur’s rushed sentence, Merlin smiled. “When shall we depart?”

Arthur straightened up, tilting his head to regard his servant. “Today.”

“Okay.” Merlin saw Arthur’s palpable relief at the word, though he couldn’t fathom why. “Is everything alright, Arthur?”

Arthur smiled brightly. “I’m fine, Merlin.”

The warlock narrowed his eyes. “If you say so.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, Arthur focused on eating and the paperwork in front of him as Merlin started grabbing the laundry thrown about. He hid his flinch as he bent down, stifled the cry wanting to escape his throat as he walked to the dresser.

He needed to get out of here before Arthur noticed.

“I’ll go prepare the provisions and tell the knights.” Merlin didn’t hear Arthur's response as he ran out the door, quickly shutting it and leaning against the cool wood. The guards barely blinked at his behavior—they were quite used to oddities at this point. Merlin nodded to them as he continued down the corridor.

Today was going to be difficult, and he couldn’t imagine it would end well at this rate.

Forcing his magic to his core, Merlin sent messages to the roundtable and to the kitchen before he found his way back to Gaius’s workroom. He was sat at the table, head in his hands, when Elyan walked into the room.

“Merlin?”

Merlin shot his head up, regretting it when the room twisted. Blinking, he looked at the knight who somehow was sitting beside him. Merlin saw Elyan’s lips moving, so he tried to focus.

“—lin, can you hear me? Are you okay?”

Merlin narrowed his spinning focus on Elyan’s concerned eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good.”

Elyan scoffed. “I find that hard to believe, my friend.”

Merlin tried to smile. “I swear. What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

Elyan’s eyes softened even more. “No, everything is okay. Arthur sent me to fetch you. We are leaving, remember?”

Merlin blinked again. How long have I’ve been out?

“Of course.” Merlin shook his head, a sheepish smile on his face. “I must’ve fallen asleep.”

Elyan narrowed his eyes. “Merlin, you don’t seem well. I don’t want you to hurt yourself more. I’ll tell Arthur you can’t-“

“No, no, I’m okay. I can come.”

That didn’t seem to convince the knight, if the doubtful look on his face was any indication. “Merlin, you are a part of my family, and if you need to stay home, I’ll stay with you. Make sure you get better. Arthur won’t fuss if I make an excuse for us both. Maybe Gwen, you, and I could go on another picnic, yeah?”

Merlin smiled at the memory of their last adventure together. “That does sound tempting, but I am truly okay! Look!” He got up and did a little spin, making Elyan laugh at the dramatics.

“Okay, okay. I believe you. But don’t think I won’t keep an eye on you, little brother.”

“I wouldn’t want it any other way.” Merlin grinned, pulling the knight into a strong hug, his heart feeling more full than it has in a long time.

“We are leaving in a few moments, I’ll meet you there?”

Merlin nodded, promising to be there on time, and when the knight vanished, as did Merlin’s brief energy. Chiding himself on not taking Elyan’s offer, Merlin forced his legs to stumble into his room to throw some articles into his bag. He double checked his wrappings, and he raced out the door.

He felt his magic flicker at his movements—it wasn’t pleased to be keeping him conscious and healing at the same time. Sighing through his teeth, he shook his head before smiling brightly at the knights. Elyan rolled his eyes while Gwaine ran up to him and pulled him into a spinning hug.

“It’s been too long, Merls!” Gwaine ruffed his hair when he put him down, a wild grin on his face.

Merlin laughed, swatting away the knight’s hand. “I saw you yesterday!”

Gwaine put his hand on his heart, a fake pout on his face. “You haven’t missed me?”

Merlin nodded, trying to ruffle Gwaine’s hair back, who squealed and ran behind Percy for protection.

Lance walked towards him with Merlin’s mare in one hand. “How are you Merlin?” Lance whispered so only he could hear.

Merlin took his horse, stroking her neck. “I’ve been better.”

Lance frowned. “Are you hurt?”

Merlin opened his mouth to lie, but Arthur was already on top of his horse yelling at them to hurry up or they would be left behind. Merlin shrugged his shoulders to Lance, who narrowed his eyes, but they both hopped up their respective horses.

The ride hurt his side—a lot. Each trot sent pangs of fire through his body, rippling in his veins, spreading a wild, uncontrollable pain that caused Merlin to bite his cheeks to keep himself from yelling.

He didn’t make a noise, though. He never does.

He stayed behind the pack, trying to feel the magic of the earth around him. The trees, the birds, the ground—all of it magic, all of it welcoming Merlin with no hesitation. He smiled slightly, his head tilted towards the sun trying to shine through the foliage. Hearing someone slow down, he forced himself to open his eyes at his companion.

Arthur watched him, curious, staring openly at him.

“May I help you, sire?”

Arthur did a half smile at the tone. “Just…thinking, I suppose.”

Merlin opened his mouth to say his quip, but he audibly, and dramatically, snapped it shut when he saw the look on Arthur’s face—the king laughed, causing Merlin to stare at the other now. He loved Arthur’s laugh. It didn’t happen as much as Merlin would like, but the time he got it out of the man always felt like a prize like no other.

All the pain in the world would be worth hearing that sound again.

Arthur’s amused face looked away from Merlin, assessing the small clearing they just wandered into.

“We can make camp here.”

Merlin immediately jumped off his horse, grateful for his tight wrapping he applied this morning. The bandages feeling like the only thing keeping him whole.

“I’ll get firewood!” Merlin yelled, not waiting for anyone to say anything else as he all but ran into the forest, towards the running water he could hear was close by. Three steps in, he heard someone walking behind him.

He sighed. “Lancelot. Why are you following me?”

The man in question caught up to him easily enough, and then right passed him, looking at the ground for usable wood.

“Well, my magical friend, as you are in pain and have not answered my previous question, I figured I could take it upon myself to annoy you until you broke in and told me what was going on with you.”

Merlin grumbled. “I’m fine.”

Lance didn’t stop searching, barely blinking at the obvious lie.

Sighing, Merlin grabbed Lance’s arm, stopping his friend’s theatrics. “Look, I just hurt myself yesterday and it hasn't been healing properly. It’s fine, I’m fine.”

Lance quickly poked Merlin’s side, earning a loud gasp from the warlock. Merlin looked at Lance with wide eyes, shocked. “What the fuck, Lance?”

Lance scoffed. “Fine my ass, Merlin. If you say that one more time, I’ll throw you in the river.”

Merlin scowled, while Lance just rolled his eyes. “Now, you’re going to go back to camp and let me finish collecting firewood.” And right when Merlin was about to protest, Lance glared at him. “No complaining. I am going to make sure you’re not going to do anything else stupid and hurt yourself more. Merlin,” here Lancelot’s eyes were soft, “I am here for you, always. And I am not letting you hurt yourself more.”

Merlin smiled softly, giving in and hugging the knight. “Thank you, Lance. You know I love you?”

Lance grinned, pushing Merlin gently towards the others. “Yeah, yeah, I love you too.”

Merlin hugged himself as he walked slowly back to camp. If Lance could tell, then maybe he wasn’t as good as hiding his pain as he originally thought. He frowned as he continued, his thoughts moving towards the noticeable silence of the surrounding forest. It seemed a bit too quiet, but he pushed the thought away. I’m starting to sound like Arthur, he thought with a small huff.

Walking into the clearing, Merlin spotted Gwaine and Percy bent in an intense conversation, Elyan and Arthur parrying in the center, and their sleeping mats all nicely arranged in a circle, so he figured it would be a good time as any to start preparing dinner. Working diligently helped keep his mind off himself. As his thoughts wandered, he didn’t notice the small cracks of sticks and dried leaves coming from the other side of the clearing.

He did see the shadowy movements, however, right before they attacked. Merlin got up quickly, shouting out an alarm that was just a few seconds too late. And the last thing Merlin saw before he was knocked out was Arthur yelling at him, and then nothing but blackness.

Merlin woke up with a resounding headache. He tried to move his hands, but he forced his eyes open when he realized they were tightly bound.

He squinted in the bright firelight, seeing many figures encased in darkness.

“Finally! The warlock awakens.”

Merlin shook his head, confused. “What?” He said through his gag.

“Ungag him, will you? Let the man talk.”

Someone close to him stepped forwards, the face unremarkable and void of any expression as he roughly took off the covering.

Merlin spit blood to the side before he squinted up once more. “And you are?” Merlin said, sounding bitter and a bit bored. This shit always happens to them.

“Call me Aren.” The man said, the smile heard in his voice, as he stepped into Merlin’s view. He was a tall man with black hair and onyx colored eyes that glinted from the fire.

“Should that mean something to me?” Merlin inquired, knowing that pissing people off was usually his specialty.

Aren’s smile vanished. “We met yesterday. Don’t I look familiar?”

Merlin leaned forwards on his knees, tilting his head. “Hmm, I can’t recall. Though, I don’t usually give many of my enemies much thought.”

That made Aren grin, and Merlin took the quick pause to look more closely around him. All the knights were tied with two or three of their attackers holding them in place. Lance was here, too, so they must have caught him unawares as well. Merlin looked to Arthur next, who was glaring daggers at this Aren man.

Aren hummed, walking around him. “How is your wound?”

Merlin saw Lance and Elyan straighten at that as Arthur’s head snapped towards the warlock. Merlin feigned confusion. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

The leader nodded to the person to Merlin’s left, and Merlin barely had a second to understand what was going to happen before the man kicked him squarely in the abdomen.

Merlin screamed as he fell to the ground.

Aren clicked his mouth, disappointed. “See what happens when you lie?”

Merlin grunted, managing to bring himself back to his knees. He felt the blood soaking through his shirt, the color draining from his face, the intensity of the stares of his friends—from horror, or from fear, Merlin couldn’t tell.

“What do you want?” Merlin spit, getting slightly pissed off now.

Aren shrugged. “What do any of us want, Merlin?”

The warlock lifted his gaze, finally realizing what the man said at the beginning. Warlock. This man knows I’m a warlock. Merlin quickly looked at Arthur in horror. The king looked steadily back at him, no hint of repulsion or betrayal or anger. Maybe he didn’t hear Aren say it, Merlin prayed to any of the gods that was true.

“Ahh there it is!” Aren cheered. “The recognition. You were quicker yesterday.”

Merlin growled. “And why is it that I can’t remember anything about our little encounter?”

Aren looked to his left, grabbing someone’s hand. “Ah yes. That would be the work of my lady, Taryn. Say hello dear.”

The girl smiled, the expression more wild than not, and did a slight bow before sliding back into the darkness. Aren then watched with clear amusement as Merlin tried to use magic against the bindings. “My dear boy, what are we? Novices?” He scoffed. “We are quite skilled, I’ll have you know.”

Merlin rolled his eyes. “I don’t give a shit who you are or what you know.” A quick pause before Merlin continued: “How about we make a deal?”

Merlin heard Arthur start protesting through his gag knowing what Merlin was going to say, but the warlock tried to ignore him and the unease settled in his gut.

“Yes?” Aren said lightly.

“You can have me, without a fight, if you let my friends go. They are innocents.”

The leader laughed, loudly. “I would hardly call these men innocent, Merlin. They’ve aided and abetted the king of Camelot’s hatred of magic. Watched as true innocents were killed, watched as the king did nothing but stand to the side as our people burned. No one here is innocent.” He snarled the last part towards the group, making them look down in shame.

“Still,” Merlin pleaded, “you have me, right? That’s all you came for. Let them go.”

Aren’s face darkened a bit, but he still seemed to consider the offer. “Willingly?”

Merlin vehemently nodded, knowing that he had mere minutes before the blood loss made him pass out.

Aren turned towards Taryn, as Merlin quickly counted how many people there were. Thirteen held his friends down, two were to his left, two to his right, three in front.

20 people, Merlin mused, shouldn’t be too hard. Right?

He let himself glance at Arthur, who turned to look at him at the same time. Arthur’s eyes didn't look angry, or betrayed, only fierce with a hint of distress. Merlin looked at his King for strength, knowing that if he didn’t believe their captors about his magic, he would soon. And Merlin wanted to remember his face like this—strong, unyielding, protective. His king, soon to be his doom. Merlin shut his own eyes, swallowing the terror of what he was about to do in front of his friends. If he were to die from this either way, at least his friends would make it out alive.

With resignation and determination pounding in his blood, Merlin opened his eyes. He heard the gasps of everyone, and he knew his eyes were no longer the color of the sky, but a fiery gold. Aren snapped his head at the noise, eyes widening at Merlin.

“That’s not possible,” the man shook his head violently, “the cuffs—“

Merlin gave him a feral smile before the world ignited into a burning white light.

Landing on his face, Merlin felt his energy quickly fade into a numbness. He laid there, breathing unsteadily, when he felt hands lift him up.

Elyan, Gwaine, and Lance surrounded him, the latter two holding him on his feet as Elyan took out his sword in front of them, Percy quickly joining the knight in front.

Merlin coughed out blood, whimpering a little at the lack of any feeling in his body. His eyesight was blurred, but he saw Arthur stand up slowly, his hands raised like he was taming wild animals.

Merlin gasped, remembering, albeit slowly, what happened. He stumbled away, his breathing quickening, his heart pounding too quickly, too quickly. He fell, the pain in his side returning full force. The knights tried to help him, but he pushed them away, tears streaming down his face. “No, no, no,” Merlin cried, “I’m going to die. He is going to kill me.”

He saw Lance and Gwaine quickly look at each other, fear on their faces, as they stepped towards him. Merlin sobbed. “No, no, no. Get away from me. No, no!”

He couldn’t breathe. The ground started spinning beneath him, the trees started falling towards him, he heard screams, but that could’ve been himself, as the world crashed into blackness once more.

“aking up? Gaius!”

Merlin couldn’t move. His eyes felt like they had been sewn shut, and his throat felt like he had been screaming for hours on end.

“Ga’s?” Merlin rasped out, reaching out his hand for his father figure.

“I’m here, my boy, I’m here.” Gaius touched his hand, feeling his forehead with the other. “Your fever has finally gone away.” Merlin heard Gaius move away for a moment, only to return with a glass of water. He forced his eyes to open, lifting them to the court physician.

“How do you feel, Merlin?”

After gulping down the entire cup, Merlin sighed contentedly. “Like absolute shit.”

Gaius chuckled. “I would imagine.” The man helped Merlin into a sitting position, the pain in his side almost nonexistent.

“What happened, Gaius?”

Merlin looked past his caretaker, eyes landing on the king. “Arthur? Why-?”

The sad look on Arthur’s face was enough to remind Merlin exactly what happened. Merlin gasped, looking towards Gaius in terror, “Gaius had nothing to do with it, my lord. I promise.” And then remembering what the knights did, he quickly added, “Neither did the knights, I swear on my life. If I am to burn, please keep them out of it. I’ll do anything, just please don't hurt them.”

Arthur’s face fell even more, the hurt shining brightly in the king’s eyes. At the moment of silence, Gaius rubbed Merlin’s back and whispered, “Merlin, Arthur knew. It’s okay, we are all going to be okay.” And with that, the man left them alone.

Merlin couldn’t think straight. His thoughts flew faster than ever, trying to connect the pieces he was obviously missing.

“Merlin…” Arthur whispered, his voice sounding scratchy from disuse. Now that Merlin actually looked at him, the king looked horrible. His blonde hair disheveled, his stubble longer than normal, his shirt and pants dirty, his eyes baring darkness indicating he hasn’t had a good night’s sleep in a long time.

“Arthur..?” Merlin said softly, a question, a concern.

Arthur got up then, and he started pacing. Merlin could do nothing but watch as his king—his light, his reason for living—pulled violently at his hair. Confused, Merlin wanted to comfort Arthur, as always, but as he tried to get up, his legs immediately failed him. Merlin closed his eyes, expecting to hit the floor hard, when he felt strong hands hold him up.

“Merlin! You need to sit down and rest, what are you doing?”

Merlin held onto Arthur, his hands finding their way to his king’s shoulders to steady himself. They locked eyes for a minute, or for an hour—Merlin couldn’t tell—before Merlin broke it with a quiet question. “Do you hate me?”

Arthur tensed beneath his hands, and Merlin’s heart fell. It was too much to wish that this wasn’t the end. Merlin tried to stop his tears from coming, but it was no use. His heart was broken. He felt broken.

“No, no! Why are you crying, Merlin? Are you in pain?” Arthur sounded genuinely concerned, breaking Merlin even more.

“I’m fine.” Merlin tried to push himself away from him, but Arthur held on steadfast.

“Merlin, look at me, please Merlin.” And after a few beats, Merlin did. He saw Arthur’s beautiful cerulean eyes bright with unshed tears.

“I don’t hate you.”

That made Merlin’s knees weak, but Arthur didn’t let go, and he didn’t stop talking, either. It was almost like once Arthur started, he couldn’t stop.

“I don’t hate you, and I don’t think I ever could, if I’m being honest. You know what I am? Angry. Not at you keeping your secrets, or lying to me for years. I worked through that all already—I’ve been doing it for months. I always came to the same question, though. Why? Why risk yourself like this? Why help me? Why stay at my side when I’ve been unworthy of that devotion? That question wouldn’t leave me alone. I would watch you tidy up my room, humming, and wonder what on earth is keeping you at my side? At first, I was angry. Angry that you lied, angry that you were the enemy the entire time, angry that everything we had was a lie.”

Arthur tighten his hold after Merlin flinched at the words, and the king started rubbing absentminded circles on the warlock’s skin.

“But, after keeping you at a distance for a week, I’m not sure if you remember that,” Merlin did. Vividly. Arthur wouldn’t let him near him, and he wouldn’t tell Merlin why. But after that week, they returned to semi-normacy. Merlin was unsure what happened, and Arthur still held himself tightly whenever Merlin entered the room.

“I realized how stupid I was. I asked Gaius to tell me everything, not that he did it easily. He refused to know anything I was talking about,” Arthur rolled his eyes, “like I would ever believe that. But after a few days, and countless promises that I meant no harm, he told me. I was in shock for a bit after. Gaius said he didn’t have all the details, and that I should talk to you, but I was scared. Merlin. I was scared to find out why.”

Merlin still couldn’t stop the tears from falling as Arthur gently lowered him onto the cot, the king sitting next to him, still rubbing those damn patterns onto Merlin’s skin.

“Watching you for a couple more days, I started scolding myself for my own cowardice. I started thinking why the question mattered that much, why I cared at all for someone who obviously never truly trusted me. I get it, though, Merlin,” here Arthur stared directly into Merlin’s eyes, not wavering for a second, “why you never told me. Fuck, I wouldn’t have told me either if I was in your place. When did I ever give you a reason to?” Arthur scoffed at himself, still tensed and worked up.

Merlin couldn’t get a word in before Arthur continued on. “And last week, I decided enough is enough. I needed to tell you I knew. It wasn’t fair of me to keep it from you, not when you live your life in such a constant state of fear of Camelot’s laws. I needed to tell you how I was almost done rewriting the laws, how close I was to freeing your people, how sorry I was for being so idiotically blinded by my father’s hatred. And when you agreed to go to the hunt with me, I was already prepared with my speech. With you and my knights, I was going to explain the changes I was making, and I thought that would be the perfect time to tell you I knew.”

Arthur got up again, walking back and forth. “Of course it all went to shit, though, because when can we ever get a break? And, gods, Merlin, I was so angry at you for putting yourself in more danger! What was that? Not telling me you were hurt? I had to find out by some assholes kicking you so hard that you scream in pain! Merlin,” the king turned to face him, walking back to the cot, “the sound almost broke me.”

Merlin’s tears were a steady companion as Arthur took up his seat once more, his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. “You were in agony, and I couldn’t do anything! Powerless, and terrified, and fucking useless. When you looked at me before turning into white hot flame, I saw your fear, your terror, your resignation that this was your end. I screamed, then, when you closed your eyes. I screamed at the men holding me, at the world for watching this happen, at the gods who did nothing to help. But you,” Arthur shook his head, eyes full of amazement, “You lit up. You burned so brightly, I had to shut my eyes. I’ve never seen such raw power, Merlin, you were brilliant.”

Merlin repeated the word quietly to himself, brilliant.

Arthur shook his head again, his eyes darkening. “After that, you started freaking out. You were sobbing, yelling you couldn’t breathe, backing away from everyone. Even as the knights tried to tell you that they understood, that they knew, you didn’t believe them. Gaius says you were delirious from the blood loss and the use of such magic, and it scared me. I thought we were going to lose you,” Arthur’s absentminded rubbing returned, the feeling burning through Merlin’s skin.

“The knights, Merlin, you should’ve seen them. Elyan and Percy had their weapons towards me, as Gwaine tried to help Lance pick you up. But you wouldn’t let them, saying for them to run, that they needed to get out of there. Lancelot managed to calm you down enough that you passed out, but no one moved. They were ready to protect you until their last breath, even if that meant leaving me behind to get you to safety. I explained to them quickly what I knew, and they immediately moved aside to let me near you. I had to get to you, and I think the knights saw that too.

We carried you to the horses and rode to Camelot, faster than anything we’ve ever done before. Gaius was able to stop the bleeding, but you had such a high fever for days. I didn’t leave your side. I wouldn’t. The knights came in at the beginning, and they promised me that you would be fine if I left for a moment, but I couldn’t move. You thought I hated you, I saw it in your eyes, and every time I closed my own, that was the only thing I saw. They realized it was quite a lost cause and they began to take turns staying with us, each of them telling me how they came to realize your magic. Elyan found out accidentally through Gwen, who threatened him if he harmed you in anyway, Gwaine apparently always had an inkling, ever since the plate incident when we first met him, and Percy said he had no idea, but he knew what kind of person you are and he would defend you to his dying breath.”

Merlin’s breathing hitched, the overwhelming feeling of acceptance smothering his lungs.

“Lancelot was the fiercest, if you were wondering. It took a lot of explaining on my part before he let me near you again. I knew Lancelot’s loyalty was with you, but the depth of it shook me to my core. All the knights seem more loyal to you, it seems, than their own king,” here Arthur smiled, “and I am proud of that, of them. They knew you, all of you, and did not hesitate to protect. I knew I made the correct choice picking my roundtable, wouldn’t you agree?”

Merlin nodded, still stunned enough by it all that he couldn’t say a word.

Arthur grabbed his hand then, turning himself towards the warlock. “So, no, Merlin. I do not hate you. I was mad that you put yourself at danger once again, so please stop doing that. You’re going to put me in an early grave from worry, and I think Gaius and the knights agree with me.”

Merlin gave a wet laugh, “I can’t promise that, Arthur, you know that.”

Arthur’s soft smile returned, and Merlin couldn’t help but stare at the man’s face. This was the king he chose, here was the reason he put himself at danger. Arthur wiped away Merlin’s tears, and Merlin leaned into the touch as Arthur’s fingers gently stroked his cheek.

They had so much more to discuss and to plan, but for now, Merlin let himself feel acceptance for the first time since he’s moved to Camelot. He let himself feel loved, cared for, understood.

No, this wasn’t the end of anything, Merlin realized, only the beginning of something greater.

#ashley answers #ashley writes #merthur #merthur fanfiction #merthur fanfic #merlin bingo #merlin #bbc merlin #hurt/comfort

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generallynerdy · 5 years

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

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

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

Key: (Y/N) - your name

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

Word Count: 2,353

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nodded. “I promise I’ll be safe.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“(Y/N)?”

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

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

She nodded shakily. “Y-- yes.”

“C’mon.”

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

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

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

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

“Promise?” She asked quietly.

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

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

“You have to heal him,” (Y/N) hissed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“(Y/N)!” He said, out of breath.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I thought I lost you,” she said.

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

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

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

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

Merlin Tags: @pearlll09

Part 11

Masterlist

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