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tired-college-student-writing · 4 years

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From the Ashes

Summary: It wasn't supposed to end like this. Merlin was supposed to protect Arthur until he united all of Albion, not be burned at the stake by his sadistic father. He was supposed to serve him until the day both men died. How did it end up like this?

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The twisted look on his father’s face just made his stomach swoop.

Arthur was no stranger to executions of magic users. They were almost routine now, and he couldn’t remember a time more than two months passed in between a pyre being lit. As he grew older he felt more numb watching the events than anything else, even if before and after his heart clenched in sorrow.

This time, however, numbness refused to take him. How could it when Merlin was being led to the stake?

The goofy moronic servant had gotten close to Arthur over the last four years, always standing by him, always lending an ear when he needed it, never afraid to offer up a quip or insult when the royal needed to be brought back to reality. It wasn’t always a welcomed truth but Arthur found he grew fond of the unhesitant words of rebuttal and clumsy actions of the other man.

He may not always be the nicest to Merlin, berating him and throwing things at him when he’s mad but he never wanted him dead. Let alone burned.

But Merlin had magic, it was undeniable the way his eyes had lit up a blazing soul-piercing gold as the assassin was pulled from the rafters after nearly taking Arthur’s head off.

Anyone with eyes could see that he had only been protecting his prince, but as the gold faded Arthur could see his servant pale and begin to shake as he realized what he had just done, trying to sputter out apologies even as Uther yelled for the guards to seize Merlin.

There was no exception to the ban on Magic after all, not even for saving the crowned prince.

He was let frozen as Merlin begged not to be taken, vows that he only ever used his magic to help Camelot, to help Arthur, how he had been born with the spark, using magic before he could even speak, how he had no choice in the art, begging for Arthur to understand, to not hate him.

He struggled to remain in the throne room, to beg at Arthur’s feet, but he didn’t attempt to escape from the guards hold, didn’t attempt to flee.

He didn’t want to be saved, Arthur realized later, as he threw up near the stables. The only thing Merlin had wanted was for Arthur not to hate him.

Arthur couldn’t even give him that much as the guards caught him trying to sneak down to the cells that night. His father had been worried he had been enchanted, and now that Arthur had done what his father would only expect from an enchanted prince. He had been confined to his rooms until the execution.

He heard from a haunted-looking Leon who was ordered to stand guard on the Prince that Gwaine had been arrested for attempting to break Merlin out of the cells along with Lancelot. Eylan and Percival visited Arthur, uncertainty weaving through their words and movements.

Magic was hated by them all for its corrupting quality, they had seen how Morgona had been twisted so easily, but Merlin was… Merlin. He was The Round Table’s younger brother, a kind and loving friend to all. They protected him with a ferocity that only was matched in the intensity that they teased him with. He, in turn, treated the knights as equals, caring for them passed what was appropriate for a servant to do, but he just rolled his eyes at them with a sarcastic “Of course, sir knight,” before returning to his normal behavior.

But they had seen the good in Magic, hadn’t they? The light that had guided Arthur when Merlin was poisoned, Merlin’s friend Will saving them all from the invaders, and recently Dragoon the Great had healed Uther, pulling him back from the brink of death, though he had almost killed him before finding the charm placed on him that changed healing energy into harm. Arthur had been relieved each time, even when Uther had screamed for the guards the moment he opened his eyes.

Gaius also visited, grief and sorrow making the old physician look frail. Arthur accepted his gruff words about not knowing his ward had been practicing magic under his nose, even though he knew from the way his eyes teared up and his hands shook that he was lying. He was already losing his best friend, he wasn’t risking losing Gaius as well.

Now here he stood on the balcony overlooking the courtyard next to his father, he wished he had tried harder to get to Merlin. He was the only member of the Round Table here, the only one to see the hollow look on Merlin’s face. He was moving stiffly as if a puppet being pulled along against its will. Even from where he stood Arthur could see the dried tear tracks on his face and the red around his eyes.

He felt like he couldn’t breathe as his father’s speech bounced around the silent crowd, not hearing a word of it as the fire was lit. He wanted to yell at Merlin to fight, to use his magic to break free and run, but his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth. His father had warned him harshly as he pulled him to the balcony that if he tried calling out to Merlin, to encourage him to escape, that Uther would have the man tortured before being burned. Arthur refused to cause his friend any more pain.

Merlin didn’t move as the fire licked higher, didn’t even cough as the smoke overtook his form. Arthur could tell that he was burning, his best friend was burning, but he was as lifeless as a doll, but Arthur knew he wasn’t dead yet. It took at least an hour before the fire would die down and Uther would allow for the guards to put out the fire, certain the sorcerer was dead. At thirty minutes the cries were usually the loudest, but still nothing from Merlin.

There was sudden movement as they neared the hour mark, and through the haze, Arthur had let himself fall into he saw his father’s eyes narrow.

A crack sounded from the pyre and the crowd gasped as lightning struck the center of the fire. The intensity of the blast jarred Arthur to the very bone as the castle shook around him, knocking him to his knees. By the time he scrambled to his feet the fire had been extinguished, faster than should be possible by ordinary means.

In the center of the smoldering remains was Merlin, clothes singed badly and ash covering his skin but he was there and seemed unharmed, and he didn't quite fight back relieved laughter. Suddenly Merlin’s face snaps up to him and his father, revealing the blazing golden eyes that were burned into his memory. The sorcerer's face was unnaturally blank as Uther barked to the guards to seize him.

They didn’t get the option as Merlin lifted into the air without a word, floating elegantly to land on the railing of the balcony, looming over the Pendragons with an unrivaled authority Arthur never would have paired with Merlin but seemed so natural.

“What sort of trick is this, Sorcerer?” Uther barked, fury rolling off of him in waves.

“Oh Uther,” Merlin sighed, words echoing unnaturally through the courtyard, “You truly don’t see how ignorant you’ve become of Magic, and how hypocritical.”

“Merlin was no Sorcerer,” Merlin told them, “He was a Warlock. you know the difference, Uther, but for your son’s benefit, I will explain. Warlocks are blessed with their gifts from birth and they develop somewhere between their early teens and twenty years old as Morgana did, but Merlin was special, he’s been using magic since the moment he drew his first breath. No, that it mattered, you had him burned for something he couldn’t control any more then you could decide what color your hair is. ”

Arthur felt his heart squeeze, “Why are you referring to yourself like that Merlin?”

The golden gaze turned to him, and almost seemed to soften as it spoke the words that sent ice through his veins, “I’m sorry Arthur, but Merlin is dead.”

Uther raised a brow, “Who are you then?”

“I am a being of legend,” Mer-The thing wearing Merlin’s skin explained, “Magic coursed through Merlin since the moment he was conceived, been at his disposal since he drew his first breath, using magic for him was instinctual as breathing and blinking is for you. His destiny laid out a path that magic had carved for him, he was to be the most powerful magic user that ever was. I was his magic, the connection he shared with the Old Religion that would allow him to protect the Once and Future King. I was meant to just be an aspect of him, but now that he’s gone Magic refuses to let the Once and Future King remain unprotected before his destiny can be fulfilled. So I have been awoken, and will remain at Arthur’s side until the day comes that he no longer needs a protector, or until Magic can convince Merlin to return from Avalon.”

“I’ll have you put to death if you get near my son,”

The being let out an ungodly laugh that sent fear down the spines of those gathered.

“Poor Poor Uther,” It cried, edging on pity, “You never learned your lesson. You can kill as many magic users as you wish, you can hunt them for sport, but you can’t rid the world of Magic, and you can’t avenge your wife because it’s not Magic’s fault that you did not heed the warnings.”

Arthur sucked in a startled breath, eyes flying to his father, “Morgause spoke the truth. You used magic so that I could be born, even though you were warned that someone must die.”

“Yes,” The being confirmed, “Your father ignored the warnings about how balance must be kept, he believed that the one that died would be a peasant or knight, someone with whose life he saw as forfeit compared to a prince’s. Only when it was Ygraine did he realize the true nature of what he asked, and chose to blame Magic and Nimih instead of his own choices. The only thing the vision lied to you about is that your Mother would never have blamed Uther for her death, nor would she have wanted for you to slay him in vengeance.”

“Why lie?” Arthur whispered, fists clenching, “Why not tell me the truth?”

“Because Merlin did not want to see you hurt in such a way,” The being explained, “He cared for you enough that he would allow your hatred of magic to remain so that you would not slay your own father in cold blood. It’s why Merlin broke the enchantment between your father and the troll, why he had Excalibur made, why he took the form of Dragoon and healed your father. It is also the reason I will not lay him to rest myself, even should you request it. Even so, he can not harm nor kill me.”

“Don’t be so cocky,” Uther seethed.

“Against you, Uther?” The being said, face blank as a slate, but full of promises, “It’s not being cocky, it’s stating fact.”

The being stepped down to the balcony and walked through the door behind them, not even flinching as Uther pulled his sword and tried to stab it through the being. The sword didn’t even make it close to it as a golden shield appeared and shattered the steel blade like it was an icicle.

Arthur took off after ignoring the calls from his father. He caught up to it after it had run into Percival outside Arthur’s chambers. The bear of a man was trembling, white as a sheet, staring at the golden-eyed being with fear that seemed more befitting a young maiden. Arthur would have found it comical if it had been any other circumstance, but right now he just felt empathy.

“Merlin…” The man spoke, “You’ve…”

“Merlin is dead,” Arthur spoke up before the being could, “This isn’t Merlin.”

The knight stared at him as if he had grown three heads, “But sire, it’s clearly-”

“Gather the Table, Sir Percival,” Arthur ordered, voice low and harsh, “I- We’ll explain once we have everyone. Break Lancelot and Gwaine out of jail if you have to, just get everyone here as soon as you can.”

The knight sprinted off with speed uncharacteristic of the large knight.

“What should I call you?” Arthur asked once the door shut behind him, “If you’re not Merlin if you’re simply his magic or whatever else you are…”

The being gazed at him in confusion, his eternal golden eyes, “I suppose Emrys is the best name for me. It was the name the druids created for the protector of the Once and Future King.”

“Alright, Emrys then. You’ll need to explain more about that Once and Future King business once the others arrive.”

“Of course, Sire.”

Arthur felt odd stripping from his court clothing with the be- Emrys simply stood like a statue by the bed, seeming to not even breathe, but he had a feeling that this was going to be a long talk.

The door crashed open unexpectedly before Arthur could finish changing, a sober and pissed off looking Gwaine, followed closely by the other knights, Percival hanging back, eyes vacant with fear. Gwen and Gaius were hanging near the back, tear streaks still evident on their faces.

Gwaine let out a sob as he saw Emrys standing there, crossing the room instantly to pull the being into a tight hug, “Thank the gods! How did you manage to escape?”

“I am not Merlin,”

Gwaine pulled back and stared at the being in confusion, “What do you-”

“Gwaine,” Arthur said as he pulled on his shirt, “We all need to sit down while Emrys and I explain… explain what happened at Merlin’s execution.”

Leon let out a slight gasp looking to the being for the first time since he entered the room, and Gauis looked like he might be sick, but no one could muster up a word as they tensely circled the room.

Arthur turned to the still statue-like Emrys, “Tell them everything you told my father and I at the execution site.”

The being didn’t move even as Gwaine pulled back uncertainty, didn’t even seem to acknowledge the others in the room as they slowly formed a circle around the room, but after being prompted he quickly started to recount the events of the morning. Arthur wasn’t sure listening to the emotionless factual retelling was better or worse than the real events. Everything was so... detached from Emrys as if the being could care less about Merlin's death outside of what it meant for it existing. A completely blank expression and a dull monotone didn't fit Merlin's face and voice, least of all when telling them about how the licking flames and suffocating smoke had driven the very essence of the man they all called a friend from his body, leaving a corpse behind before magic decided to create its own consciousness to stand-in.

“So Emrys,” Gwaine pushed, anger boiling just below the surface, “Why don’t you tell us everything Merlin did for Camelot? All the things that he did for Arthur that the princess couldn’t even be bothered to save him for?”

“Oh really?” Arthur snapped, “You want to say I did nothing? I argued and fought with my father but he was convinced the only reason I would still care for a magic user is that he enchanted me and reassured me that once Arthur was dead I would see reason. Then I couldn’t even speak up at the execution because my father warned me that if I even spoke a single word before the hour was up that he would burn all of Merlin’s friends. After all, clearly, one of them was also a magic-user and keeping the enchantment up! I was already losing my best friend, I didn’t want to lose any of you as well!”

“Stop this now,” Gauis cried, looking worn and tired, “None of this fighting is going to bring back Merlin, we’ve all failed him!”

The knights fell silent, frustration and sorrow oozing from all as they gazed around the room at each other, daring someone to speak.

“Odd,” Emrys said after a long moment, head cocking slightly to the side, the first real movement he made since entering the room.

“What?” Arthur snapped, glaring at the golden eyes that should be blue. Emrys simply looked between the knights before gazing back at Arthur.

“You really do care for him," Emrys stated with the barest hint of wonderment in his voice that caused Arthur's heart to wither, "even though Merlin left this plane believing that you despised him. Even Magic didn’t account for all of the knights siding with Merlin when Uther was still alive. Gaius, Lancelot, and Gwen were always going to stand by him but the rest of you...You all are very odd.”

#merlin (tv)#arthur pendragon #prince arthur #uther pendragon #gaius #lancelot #character death tw #burned at the stake #gwaine #sir percival #sir eylan #emrys

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alwaysmoodboards · 3 years

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Merlin: Elyan x Leon {Modern Pub AU}

Ageless Merlin opens his own pub in London and his reincarnated friends drift in one by one forming new bonds and remembering old ones.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

#moodboard #moodboard by me #merlin bbc #sir elyan #elyan #sir leon #leon #elyeon #eylan x leon #leon x elyan

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bellamyblakru · 3 years

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You caught me doing something dangerous and flipped out (lancelot / merlin)

EKKK I FINISHED THIS OMGGG. thank you so so much for sending this prompt in mor sksksksksk this was so much fun to write and im so happy to get back into writing (for a minute at least 😂). my mercelot heart loved every second of this, so i hope you enjoy it as well🥺💖💖it is very merlin-centric but i hope that doesn’t ruin the experience!! thank you again🥺💖

you can read it here or on ao3!!💖

Merlin stumbled up the stairs into the castle, scarcely aware of his panting echoing loudly in the empty corridor. He knew that he should be throwing himself into Gaius’s room, shutting the door, and sleeping this off, but he couldn’t make it that far. He needed somewhere to go—and fast. He felt the wound pull with each step, the blood soaking his shirt and pants enough that he couldn’t remember what color they originally were.

Lancelot is going to be furious with him.

——————that morning——————

No one was smiling this morning as Merlin made his way to the throne room. A sort of silence had fallen around the castle like a leaden blanket, and Merlin feared that it did not bode well for anyone.

Things have been fine lately, happy almost. Of course that couldn’t last—when could they ever just be at peace?

He pushed open the throne room doors as quietly as he could, peering inside to see most of the knights already assembled staring at the map with matching frowns.

As he walked closer, Eylan and Leon looked up briefly to smile and nod at him before returning to the map, and he realized Gwaine, Percy, and Lancelot were nowhere to be found. Going to his place behind Arthur, who stared at the map with such heat that Merlin was surprised it didn’t burn up immediately, he asked quietly, “Where are the others?”

Arthur jerked up and spun around toward him, surprised evident on his face, “When did you get here?”

Merlin let out a small laugh, “I told you I can be quiet when I want to be, sire.”

Arthur narrowed his eyes and huffed, “And you never want to be quiet during hunts? Even when I ask nicely?”

Merlin gaped, “When do you ever ask nicely?”

Arthur smirked, “Fair enough.” he sobered up before continuing, “The others are coming back from a quick patrol I sent them on this morning. When you were collecting herbs for Gaius, a citizen from an outlying village came sobbing about rampant magic wielders killing everyone they come across in the name of freedom.” He shook his head in disgust, “I sent Percival, Gwaine, and Lance to escort the villager home to retrieve his family and friends to bring them into Camelot for safety. They should be back soon with news.”

Merlin swallowed hard at the thought of more magic being used for evil, for destruction. How can he ever show his friends, especially Arthur, how good magic can be if they only ever see it used for pain?

He nodded sharply in reply, masking his face of any sign of distraught, and calmly walked back to the pillar he normally leans against during audience and council meetings.

Moments like these were the hardest. Where his lies buried themselves so deep in his soul that he could feel himself failing to reach the surface for air. He will dream of the pyre tonight, he knew, and will be forced awake with the sound of his own choking from asphyxiation. He will stay awake for hours after, staring into darkness, wondering how much more of his own kin he will have to slaughter before they can claim true liberation. How much blood on his hands will he need to be considered the monster everyone believes him to be with this power?

He felt himself tremble with the thoughts. Looking around the room flooded with the late sunlight, he narrowed his stare at his friends discussing plans around the table, and begrudgingly felt his panic kick in. The trapping feeling suffocating any breath he had—he was trapped, and it was a cage of destiny’s own making.

His eyes darted from door to door, the urge to run, fast and far away, becoming almost unbearable and inescapable. He was considering excusing himself with some bad reason when the door slammed open—knights and the villager in tow.

Lancelot’s eyes immediately snapped to his, and Merlin knew then that he couldn’t, wouldn’t, run—not when Lancelot’s first look towards him was filled with such a deep understanding and sympathy.

Lance knew everything and didn’t think him a monster, and that is what kept him from darting every time Arthur called him useless, or dumb, or threw something at him. He wondered then if Lancelot would run away with him if he asked. Would the knight’s loyalty be tested or would he simply stand by his King without batting an eye? He would never ask Lance to make such a decision, though.

The knight was his closest friend, his most trusted confidante, and every day Merlin ached with the knowledge that Lancelot bared his secrets alongside him. If Merlin was to burn, Lance would be on the next prye.

Merlin refused to let that happen.

He snapped himself out of the daze he fell into, eyes refocusing on the knights speaking with the King. Merlin watched how Lance’s glance kept flicking his way, and when Merlin met the barely concealed worry within them, he tried to give a reassuring smile. However, Lance’s frown deepened—Merlin sighed, And here I thought I was good at this facade.

“..gathered all the others and placed them in a large tavern in the lower town. They should be safe there,” Percy told Arthur, who nodded in response.

The villager was shaking, Merlin belatedly realized, as he looked at Arthur’s chest to speak next, “M-my family appreciates your efforts, s-sire.”

Arthur grimaced, “No need to thank me. I wouldn’t want any more of my people hurt from these maniacs.” He stepped forwards, placing a hand on the man’s shoulder, “Go now. Rest with your family, I will make sure you are all seen to, properly.”

The man sputtered his thanks and dropped into a clumsy bow before turning around. Merlin, unable to stop his feet from moving, quickly walked forwards to catch the man before he disappeared, “Sir?”

The man froze, still shaking, as he looked up to Merlin with confusion. Merlin continued, “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

The man gave him a gentle smile, seeming to relax with Merlin’s presence, “I’m alright, young man, thank you. I appreciate your concern.”

Merlin gave a tentative smile, aiming for charming and warming, “If you ever need any assistance, I live with the Court Physician. Ask for Gaius or myself, and we will be there.”

The man clasped arms with him, a crooked smile forming, “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you again—thank you all.”

Merlin watched him go, unease in his gut. He didn’t know what it was about the man that made him uneasy, but it simmered long after the villager left them alone in the throne room.

Merlin turned around to see the others talking amongst each other and he made it to Lancelot’s side just as Gwaine began talking.

“Princess, I’m telling you: no one seemed scared! Only that man’s family seemed a little unsettled, and even then, it seems suspicious to me.”

Arthur rolled his eyes, “Do you expect them all to be sobbing and cowering? Of course they are putting up strong fronts! If my home was under attack, I know I wouldn’t want to show fear. I would rather be fighting against the attackers than hiding away in some strange town.”

Gwaine didn’t reply, but Merlin knew that Arthur’s answer wasn’t enough for the knight. Merlin stayed quiet, though, already calculating when he should go out to take care of this. Arthur ruined his calculations with his next proclaiment, however.

While rubbing the bridge of his nose, the King sighed out, “We will go as a group tomorrow to face them. Gather the provisions tonight, prepare the horses with any protection we can gather in the short amount of time. We will meet in front of the stables at first light.”

And with a ‘Yes, sire’ muttered by everyone, Arthur dismissed them.

Merlin didn’t hesitate to beeline for the door and escape before Arthur ordered him to do anything—he needed to think of something, and rather fast at that.

Merlin found himself on top of the battlements, staring at the horizon that seemed too far and much too close all at once. He usually found himself here to clear his mind. The view made him feel alive, more connected to the world, and, most importantly, he didn’t have to hold such a tight grip on his magic this far above.

No one ever came here besides him.

With a sigh, Merlin loosened his hold and let his magic out through his nose with his breathing. His skin seemed to stop crawling from the inside out, the sky looked more blue, and the air felt sweeter in his lungs. It had been too long since he could let go and he knew part of his trapped feeling had to do with his magic being stifled within his veins for too long. He took a deep breath, willing his magic back in slightly, and he laid down looking up towards the sky.

The sun will be going down soon, and Merlin figured he will be leaving after dinner to approach these rouges himself to handle them before it got the knights killed. He glared at the sky when he realized he couldn’t ask Lancelot to come with him—not again. He has endangered that man’s life quite enough just by breathing, and with his hope to keep Lancelot safe for as long as possible, he just couldn’t bring himself to ask. Lance would say yes, like always, but Merlin cannot—will not—actively put him in harm's way.

Merlin shuddered thinking of a life without Lancelot in it, and, well, it was simply unfathomable.

Lance was his rock, his reason to keep fighting when shit hits the fan, the only person who constantly sees Merlin for who he is and does not cower from it. Lancelot embraces every part of Merlin, flaw and all, and Merlin would be completely lost without him in his life. Lance swears that Merlin is the bravest man he ever met, but was it out of bravery or selfishness that Merlin faced all these threats alone? Merlin didn’t know, and he didn’t want to think too much about it in fear of the true answer (even though, deep down, he knew his answer was one he didn’t like).

So, the plan was rather simple: leave Camelot at dusk, talk or fight with the rouges, and make it back before sunrise.

It sounds easy enough.

A few hours later, after successfully avoiding Lancelot’s knowing gaze and delivering the King’s dinner, Merlin set out to the nearby town. He knew it was only an hour or two away from Camelot, so he snuck out of Camelot, grabbed his mare Honey, and set off briskly. His mare knew the drill by now and obliged easily, especially with Merlin’s magic soothing her with each gallop.

Soon, Merlin entered a clearing close to the town’s borders. He tied Honey a good distance away, leaving her some food, and took a deep breath before walking into the field. That uneasy feeling returned in gut and he knew this wouldn’t end well.

Just as he thought that, five hooded people walked out to meet him in the middle of the large clearing.

“Emrys, it’s good to see you again.”

Merlin squinted in the dark, “Again?”

The man laughed, throwing his hood back, “We met a few hours ago. I hope I left a good enough impression to be remembered.”

Merlin rolled his eyes, “Of course it’s you,” he scowled at the villager he met earlier today, “Why would it be anyone else? Why did you seek aid with King Arthur if you are part of the problem?”

Merlin was fairly certain he knew the answer already, but he needed time to access the power of each person here. The one on the left held the most potential, magic coming off her in waves, but the rest were mediocre at best, if the last person had anything at all but small tricks up his sleeve.

The man was in the middle of explaining what Merlin was sure to be an “ingenious” plan to get close to King Arthur when he interrupted, “How did you hide your magic from me? You know I’m Emrys and all, so you must realize I can read you magical abilities by proximity, but I didn’t sense it on you originally. So, how?”

The man blinked, and then glared at Merlin for his interruption, “I have a pendant that covers my magical scent. It’s been passed down through generations. My mother gave it to me to get close to the King…”

Merlin tuned him out again, pondering such an artifact. It would be useful to him against more powerful creatures, but he wondered if it hurt at all or if he could use that instead of shoving his magic deep down everyday.

When all the sorcerers looked at him expectantly, Merlin frowned, “Did you ask something?”

The powerful one spoke up this time, her voice much stronger than her peer, “We asked for you to join us, Emrys, to bring peace to our lands once more. To restore magic, free our people, make you the rightful King.”

Merlin flinched slightly, “Rightful King? I am no King. Arthur is the once and future King, the rightful heir to the throne and the only man I will serve. But I had a feeling you knew my answer already, so why try this?”

The woman shrugged, a small wicked smile on her lips, “Proving your loyalty in the flesh is a nice incentive to make it easier to kill you—the most powerful warlock or not, you are still a traitor.”

Merlin rolled his shoulders, “Let’s dance, then, shall we?”

It was brutal, to say the least, as Merlin limped back to Honey trying to ignore the blackened, scorched earth and bloodied bodies scattered about. He looked down at the wound in his abdomen and debated whether he should just stay over night or make it to Camelot before light. He completed the first two steps of his plan, he might as well continue with it. So with a painful moan, Merlin hoisted himself on top of his mare, who neighed upset at the smell of bad copper, and willed her to go back home. He didn’t have the strength to hold the reins, not when both hands were being used to staunch the blood flow.

He swayed with the frantic galloping, trying to forget the pure malice on the villager's face when he stabbed him when Merlin was off guard for a second. The villager had taunted to kill Merlin’s knight when he was done with him after he managed to stick the knife and that’s when Merlin’s magic exploded out of him. His magic responded with his emotions—and when Lance was threatened, his heart stopped beating for a second before the world exploded in a blinding white light. No one survived after that blow.

Merlin was barely conscious when he made it back to the stables, but he was able to sneak back in the way he came out—completely unnoticed by the guards, even with his blood loss, Merlin knew how to get in and out of Camelot quietly and quickly.

Lancelot will freak out when he sees him, but Merlin had no other choice. Limping, he blindly remembered the route to Lancelot’s room as he clung onto consciousness with every fiber of his being.

Just a few more steps. Lance will keep you safe—he always keeps you safe.

With his vision narrowing with the blackness crawling in, Merlin quickened his steps and landed in front of Lance’s room. He collapsed, hitting the door with his body, and the last thing he saw was Lance’s terrified expression before he welcomed unconsciousness with a sigh of relief.

——————

Merlin woke up, wincing from the ache in his body, and blinked a couple times at the ceiling before he remembered what happened. He quickly sat up, and then immediately regretted the action when the room started swaying.

When he managed to calm his breathing and dizziness, he leaned against the headboard of the bed and his eyes found a still awake Lancelot, who was staring blankly at the roaring fire.

“Lance?” Merlin croaked out, his voice dry and scratchy like he had been screaming for hours.

The knight slowly looked up from the fireplace, and Merlin saw how red-rimmed his eyes were.

“Lance, I’m—“

He threw his hand up, stopping Merlin, and stood up to start pacing in front of the bed. Merlin watched, heart aching, as Lance tried to work his breathing into something less panicked, less terrified.

He stopped abruptly, spinning to look at Merlin. They held the stare for a moment before Lance started glowering at him, “Merlin.”

Usually, the way Lance says his name gives him butterflies, not that he ever admitted that to anyone, but this time made him look down in shame and he started absentmindedly picking a loose thread in the knight’s blanket. Merlin realized then that he was completely cleaned, in Lance’s small clothes, and there was a glass of water next to the bed. Merlin’s heart warmed at the actions, but when he looked back up to see a still fuming Lance, Merlin scooted forwards to try and grab the man’s hand.

Lance let himself be grabbed, and Merlin pulled him onto the bed in front of him as whispered brokenly, “I’m sorry I scared you.”

Lance huffed, his anger still not dissipated, “Merlin,” and said warlock looked up to see waring emotions in the knight’s eyes, “I was more than scared. I was...terrified.” He shook his head, using his free hand to wipe down his face, “I couldn’t find you after the meeting, so I searched the entire castle for you. I knew you were planning on doing something idiotic, but I didn’t realize you would do it so soon.”

Merlin heard Lancelot’s breathing hitch before he continued, “I thought maybe you went out for more herbs, or that Arthur had you working overtime and that's why I couldn’t find you. I-I couldn’t sleep when I figured out that you must have gone without me. And I know you can handle yourself—Gods!” He stood up again, anger and fear and pain in every movement, “I was so scared, Merlin! Do you know what it’s like to know your best friend left you behind on some self-sacrificing quest for some reason? Is it because you don’t want my help? You would rather risk your life over and over again without me at your side as backup? Am I that horrible?”

At Lance’s frantic questions, Merlin felt the tears falling down his face as he vehemently shook his head no.

Lance saw this, stopped moving, and whispered, “My heart completely stopped for a moment when I saw the state you were in. Merlin,” he let out a small, broken gasp of air, “I thought this time that I-that I would lose you. And I can’t—“ he covered his mouth when a strangled sort of sob escaped him, the anger bleeding out to utter exhaustion.

Merlin blindly reached out for Lancelot’s hand again, pulling him back down to him, and they stayed like that, intertwined, for a few moments before Merlin had regained enough strength to talk.

While rubbing Lance’s knuckles with his thumb, Merlin quietly spoke, “Lancelot,” he waited until the man’s beautiful brown eyes met his, “I cannot lose you.”

And when Lance opened his mouth to say something, Merlin plowed on, “I should’ve told you that a long time ago. You-you keep me centered. You make me want to live, Lance. Not survive, not exist. Live.

I never had someone who looks at me the way you do, who knows all the dark shit about me and continues to look at me the same way. I make mistakes, constantly. I hurt people, Lance, and it kills me a little more each time. I hurt my own kin to keep Camelot safe, to keep you safe, and I ache knowing that I damned you with me. That’s the worst pain of all. I was born damned, but you? I dragged you into it, and I will not allow you to be set aflame alongside me. I refuse.

You deserve a life without this extra burden I force upon you. I am cursed with this life, but you have the ability to turn a blind eye, to not be feared for simply breathing.”

Merlin felt the bed shift, and his brief thought that he finally drove his only true friend in his life away was squashed when Lance sat next to him, pulling him underneath his arm. Merlin’s tears came back when curled into Lance’s side, his hand on the knight’s chest feeling his heart beating steadily.

Lance stroked through Merlin’s hair softly, “Merlin,” and there were those damn butterflies again, “I choose to stay at your side. You are the best person I know. And before you deny it, I know you are forced to make hard decisions every other day, and I know you are the most powerful warlock to ever exist, and, in spite of those facts, who you are, at your core, never changes.

You can burn cities down with a flick of your wrist, you can harm anything or anyone with barely a thought, you can overthrow Arthur at any moment, but you know why you don’t? Because, in your heart and in your soul, you are a good, beautiful person. You see the light when others only see the dark, you defend those who cannot fight for themselves, you love so deeply and unconditionally that everyone you meet can’t help but adore you.

So, no, I will not let you pick for me who I chose to love. I picked you to stand by, with your magic and all, and I will always pick you. If you wanted to leave Camelot tonight, I would pack my bags without hesitation. You did not damn or burden me, love. You are all that I believe in, and I will never turn my back on you.

I will be by your side, for as long as you want me, to whatever end. If we burn tomorrow, then we burn together. I’ve made peace with my decision a long time ago.”

He kissed the top of Merlin’s head when he finished, pulling him closer to let him cry onto his chest while rubbing the warlock’s back. With his free hand, he wiped away his own tears before grabbing Merlin’s loose hand.

“So...” Lancelot said, trying to lighten the mood a bit, “if you leave on some self-sacrificing mission without letting me help you again, I will tell Gaius on you.”

Merlin gasped dramatically, leaning up on Lance’s chest to look him in the eyes, “You wouldn’t dare!”

Lance smirked, “Oh, I would.”

Merlin gaped, the smile breaking through betraying his false exasperation, “Fine. I’ll bring you with me next time, but promise me one thing?”

Lance softened, nodding, and Merlin laid back down listening to the knight’s heart beat as he spoke, “If I tell you to run, you will run without hesitation.”

There was silence for a moment before Lance responded, “I cannot promise that, Merlin.”

Merlin frowned, looking back up to see Lance’s eyes already on him, “I cannot promise that because I would rather die than leave you alone during a battle. Even if the odds are stacked against us, I will never leave you behind. If I run, you run. If you fight, I fight. We are in this together, Merls.”

Merlin couldn’t stop the tears from falling again as words sank in fully, “To whatever end, huh?”

Lance smiled softly, nodding, “Let’s get some rest. After almost scaring me to death, I am completely spent.”

Merlin went still, preparing himself to leave the warmth of Lancelot’s body, but Lance tilted his chin up as he asked, “Stay the night?”

Merlin beamed, wrapping himself completely with his knight. He fit into Lance’s side perfectly, like it was always meant to be the two of them against the world.

And when Merlin drifted off to sleep, with Lance’s hands still rubbing his back, he felt lighter than he had in years. And for the first time in a long time, no nightmares plagued his dreams.

#ashley answers #ashley writes #merlin fanfiction #merlin fanfic #mercelot #merlin x lancelot #bbc merlin #THANK YOU LOVELY 🥺💖💖💖💖i adore uuuu #my first time in mercelot territory....hopefully it doesn’t suck LOL #mercelot fanfic #also lol at me basically writing it all in one sitting 💀

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where-dreamers-go · 5 years

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“A Moment” Sir Elyan x Reader

(A/N: Here’s my first Sir Elyan insert reader!!! It’s short and sweet. I hope you like it!

Anon asked: “Can you something that’s Sir Eylan x reader? There’s literally none anywhere and our boi doesn’t get enough love tbh.”

Word Count: 624 words. )

Late afternoon sun rays beat against the castle walls of Camelot. Bright yellows and golds that had yet to turn orange. Evening would come soon enough.

You were between chores. A perfect time to cross paths with a knight of the Round Table. It did not always matter which knight considering those you knew were friendly, however you were subject to favoritism.

Courting a knight tended to leave you to be a little biased.

Another hallway was behind you as you walked through the castle. Stone after stone and person after person were left to your peripheral vision. Your sights were set on a chainmail-wearing brunette heading in another direction.

“Sir Elyan!” You called out to him before he disappeared into the next hall.

A light shone in his warm eyes, even at a distance, as he caught sight of you.

Your heart rate elevated and an energy rushed through your veins.

It was always more than a delight to see him.

With unheard words spoken to a knight in Elyan’s company, he started walking over to you with his head held high.

A deep red cape trailing behind him only added to his look of natural confidence.

It suited him well.

“Hello (Y/N).”

A sweet smiled graced his lips.

“Hello. May I spare a minute of your time?”

“I would not mind if you took more than one minute. My time is yours,” he offered his arm for you to hold.

With a lightness in your steps you both took a stroll down a hall.

Not many castle servants were crowding at that hour. Nonetheless, Elyan only came to a halt when there were less people around.

Chocolate colored eyes gauged if the area was suitable for you.

You gave his arm a gentle squeeze.

Giving you a nod, he moved your hand from his arm to his lips. There he pressed a chaste kiss to the back of your hand.

“How has your day faired?” Elyan asked.

“Quieter than usual. Oddly enough.”

“Nothing suspicious I hope.”

“Oh, goodness, no. We finally have a true break from the chaos and drama. Quiet is nothing to be too concerned over. Some dramas we can handle.”

He let out a light chuckle saying, “true. Most of which takes place in the tavern.”

You shook your head, smiling once more.

“Is there anything you need help with today?” You asked. “I finish earlier.”

“Would you prefer to check the city wall’s perimeter tonight?” He smirked.

“Funny.”

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’.”

“A firm ‘no’, my knight.”

“Lucky you,” Elyan kissed your forehead.

Smiling, you pulled his hands closer, entangled with your own.

“Any chance you won’t have a late shift tomorrow?”

“I can’t say. You know that.”

You shrugged.

It was worth a try.

Elyan leaned closer and kissed your temple where he then lingered.

“It’s the one of the only ways I can surprise you.”

“Quite true.”

One of your hands snuck its way up to the knight’s short hair. Fingers keeping him near.

“I fear I’ve taken up too much of your time,” you said.

“Never too much.”

Elyan’s lips pecked your cheek before hovering a breath away from your lips.

CLANK

You jumped back as Elyan put a protective arm in front of you.

After a moment to compose yourselves, you gave each other a mirrored knowing look.

Elyan sighed before calling out, “is there something we can do for you, Gwaine?”

“No, no, I’m alright.”

This time Elyan shook his head.

“I better go.” Elyan kissed your cheek. “Take care. I’ll see you as soon as I can.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

In one last long glance, Elyan communicated all what words and kisses could. He loved you.

~~~

(If you love my writings and want to support me, I have a Ko-Fi where you can buy me a coffee. I would be eternally grateful. coffee

Best wishes and happy reading.)

#bbc merlin #requested #where dreamers go #bbc merlin fanfiction #bbc elyan #sir elyan x reader #sir elyan insert reader #Elyan x reader #sir elyan imagine #sir elyan imagines #xreader #camelot #camelot knights #Knights of the Round Table #knights of camelot #fluffy #fanfiction #2019

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batmanda19 · 13 years

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Whatever your ships on Merlin are, I think we can all agree on one thing:

Percival/Eylan is canon.

#because when this scene happened me and my sister started screaming 'NEW SHIP ALERT'#merlin #percival #eylan #sir eylan #sir percival #Adetomiwa Edun #tom hopper

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merlinspussy · 3 years

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Gwen and Merlin carried BBC Merlin for being the strongest characters. Thank you, that was it.

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merlinspussy · 3 years

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Elyan literally canonically said that Gwen raised him,,, oh yeah and then the writers killed him off and Gwen was left with no family because there was apparently some reason to do that. I’m not convinced.

Look-

Gwen most likely had to grow up really quickly for reasons we never found (thank you BBC) and take care of Elyan which makes me think what the hell was Tom doing at the time and was their mother anywhere to be seen-?

My god couldn’t the BBC just given us a little more than a smudge i want to know their backstory.

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merlinspussy · 3 years

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I am very much into women but Sir Eylan is beautiful and a distinguished gentleman.

I said what I said.

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merlinspussy · 3 years

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There are not many things that have a bittersweet feeling to me but the fact that Elyan died only knowing Mordred a friend and not the person who killed his Brother In Law is one of them.

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merlinspussy · 3 years

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Oh my giddy god it was canon that Gwen and Leon used to go and catch frogs together on a full moon,,, I am going to combust—

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bellamyblakru · 3 years

Note

For the Bad Things Happen Bingo, can I request ‘passing out from the pain’ with hurt!Merlin/protective!Gwaine ???

YOU SURE CAN. i have like a list of prompts that came before this one that i should be doing,,, but i really wanted to try and write merwaine so badly isksksksk thank you for this opportunity. i hope i can do them justice with my first time🥺 (also lol i fangirled at your request bc i love your account sm asbskakak)

here it is on ao3 and under the cut! i hope you like it!!

Merlin watched Gwaine from his peripheral, thinking about everything and nothing at once. Gwaine has been with the knights for a few years now, right when Arthur took the crown, and Merlin hasn’t seen any indication that the man wanted to leave. But he will one day, won’t he? He has told Merlin many times how he doesn’t like staying in one place for too long, so Merlin never expected him to stay here as long as he has.

Merlin frowned at his thoughts on top of his mare, Honey, as Gwaine chatted with Percival and Leon. He was making them laugh, that smile of his shining through the darkening thoughts floating in Merlin’s mind. Merlin couldn’t help letting the soft smile slip through seeing how happy Gwaine made them—it seemed like Gwaine had that effect on everyone, Merlin mused.

Arthur was talking with Lance and Elyan, so Merlin let his mind start wandering. His magic was itching to escape—it has been since the morning they left on this hunt. Merlin knew Arthur just wanted to flee the restraints of the castle, and, honestly, Merlin had been feeling the same way for days.

Lately, Gwaine had been avoiding him. Well, Merlin thinks Gwaine had been avoiding him, at least, and Gwaine never does that, ever. He’d been thinking that he must have hurt Gwaine somehow, but every time he thought back to their last interaction, where nothing seemed wrong, he had no idea where the distance was coming from. He had been making Gwaine laugh at training, and after that day, he hadn't been able to get more than five words to him.

He missed Gwaine.

That thought made him frown once more at the offending trees they were passing. He missed Gwaine because Gwaine was his friend, nothing more. The more he tried to convince himself of that fact, the more unlikely it became. Frustrated, Merlin let some of his prickling magic flow out his fingertips to his mare, smoothing away her small aches.

Merlin patted her neck with a small smile as she sighed out in contentment—at least he could do one thing right lately. Magic, he thought with heart panging a bit, still wasn’t free and Arthur has been on the throne for about five years. It hurts, still after all this time, that something as pure as this would lead to his death—but he knew deep down that he wasn’t afraid of dying, not anymore. No, Merlin was terrified of how his friends would react after years of deceit and pain.

Just out of reflex, Merlin looked towards them. He found Gwaine staring at him, concern written on every feature, but the second their eyes met, his friend quickly started up another conversation with the others.

Merlin ignored the deepening pang in his chest and the nausea rising in his throat—this was nothing, he told himself, Gwaine didn’t mean anything by that.

The lie left a bitter taste in his mouth.

He was about to suggest they stop, wanting a distraction, when he heard the noise. His mare also stopped, feeling him stiffen. Merlin whipped his head to the side, his eyes narrowing.

“Merlin?” Gwaine quickly came to his side, but Merlin’s head didn’t move, “Do you hear something?”

Merlin wished he didn’t, just so he could use this as an excuse to talk to him, but he scowled lowly in response, “Bandits—ten, if I’m right, and many have magic.”

He knew Gwaine wouldn’t ask how he knew—he never did.

The man nodded, and Merlin’s heart lightened a bit when Gwaine didn’t say “to relax” or that “he was paranoid” like the rest of the knights would’ve done. It always felt good to not be second-guessed.

“How long do we have?”

Merlin tilted his head, “Two minutes, at most.”

Gwaine grunted in response, galloping towards Arthur. Merlin didn’t like the void he felt in his heart the second Gwaine left his side, but, shaking his head, he knew there were more important matters to think about. Merlin watched, amazed, as the knight got everyone’s attention so easily. The way he talked, with his rare seriousness expression, captivated everyone just as much as his joking did.

And although Merlin tried to convince himself that the knights would listen to him that way if he told them, he knew they would never.

Merlin was a simple country boy, wasn’t he? He had no credibility to them. He couldn’t truly blame them—it’s not like Merlin was an open book. He lied, but never completely. His cheerful, idiotic personality was a cover of sorts, but it was just another part of who he was. He wasn’t only the clumsy fool, but what could he do to show them otherwise? They knew Gwaine hid his problems in jokes and clever remarks, so what was so wrong with Merlin doing the same? Merlin didn’t know, and he didn’t think he wanted to.

Showing them the magic, the part that was so integral to who he was, would lead them to fear him, not respect him as one of their own. He didn’t want recognition, that’s never why he did what he does, but some form of understanding between them all is what he craved, what he wished. To not be second-guessed when he knew everyone’s lives were at stake and that he could save them...but that was only a fool’s dream.

He stopped with the rest of the knight when Gwaine convinced them that something was coming.

“Merlin,” Gwaine said from the top of the group, “go to the tree line, you won’t get hurt there.”

Merlin nodded with a carefully blank face—the battling emotions, of love and irritation, whirling inside of him.

They don’t know you can protect yourself, the logical part of his mind reminded him. After all these years, Merlin thought, I should be able to accept the coddling with a full heart. It showed that they do care about him, but why did it never feel that way? Merlin felt like an obstacle in their way—someone to protect, to always watch out for, a hindrance.

Merlin felt silly for the negative thoughts—none of this could be helped right now, so why dwell on these facts?

Aiming for the most advantageous spot, Merlin saw the first bandit pop out next to Eylan, who effectively took the man down. Percy patted him on the back as they moved around Arthur, flanking their king in preparation of the ambush.

As the air pulsed with anticipation, Merlin’s eyes strayed towards Gwaine, like always. The man’s face was grime, ready for battle, as he surveyed the surrounding area.

Merlin was distracted as a noise came from behind him, and he quickly spun around to face the intruder. The bandits with magic were walking smoothly towards him and Merlin panicked—do I attack? He changed his mind quickly, not thinking about it too much, as he turned around and ran towards his group to warn them.

Merlin guessed the obvious panic on his face spurred the knights to run towards him, but it was too late. One of the bandits threw a spell at him with a force that threw him to the side, hitting a nearby tree.

He vaguely heard the shouting of the knights as the attackers surrounded them, all eight of them chanting under their breaths as they did so, forcing the circle of the roundtable knights to still. Merlin groaned in pain, lifting himself.

Protect them. Protect them.

His only goal—and it has been since the beginning. In that moment, Merlin realized how unimportant it was that they never knew about the magic. The knights knew how much Merlin loved them, so everything else was secondary. Merlin, with or without his magic, would always put himself in danger if it meant his friends can see the next day.

Pulling himself up with the tree, he shook his head and listened to the droning monologue of the leader.

Same shit, as always.

Merlin couldn’t help but laugh—loudly. The monotonous speaker abruptly stopped talking as they all stared at Merlin laughing.

He couldn’t help it, honestly.

The leader narrowed his eyes at him, “What’s so funny, boy?”

Arthur and Gwaine shook their heads in looks that screamed “shut up, Merlin,” but Merlin held his stomach as the laughter subsided, the smile still on his face as he replied, “Nothing, I swear,” but then another chuckle escaped as the leader frowned at the answer.

When one of the lackeys stepped forwards with a sword pointing at him, Merlin sobered up, a smirk in place, as he lifted his hands in surrender, “Okay, okay. I’ll tell you! It’s just...every time this happens, one of you always explains why you are doing what you are doing. And every time, and I mean every time, it is revenge for what Uther did. Who, by the way, is long dead. Arthur, like always, gets blamed for his father’s actions. Are you guys just daft, or does everyone truly believe Arthur is actually Uther? It’s quite simple, really. Uther was a tyrant—I think we can all agree on that, but attacking his son? What’s the purpose? To show the King that magic can never be used for good? You know when all he sees is magic being used against him, of course he will hate it. What other choice would he have, hmm?”

Merlin’s smile dropped off as he shook his head, walking towards the stunned group, “Honestly! I get it, I truly do, but this will never solve anything. You are perpetuating the violent cycle, you understand?”

At Merlin’s question, the leader growled, “All I see is a stupid servant running his mouth.”

Merlin’s face lit up, “Interesting. Nothing took, then?”

He heard Gwaine sigh, “Merls?”

Merlin looked over at the knight, who had a small smile on his face, “Yes, Sir Knight?”

Gwaine laughed a bit, “You might be slightly more dramatic than me, and that’s impressive, to say the least. You think your lovely wit could save us?”

Merlin smiled at the knight, his heart feeling more full than it has all week, and winked, “Well, it was worth the shot?”

And as they just continued smiling at each other, Merlin saw the leader blink and shake his head, muttering something to one of his followers with nothing but malice on his face.

Merlin watched, almost in slow motion, as the next spell was directed at Gwaine.

That wasn’t the plan.

Merlin yelled, “No!” as he sprinted and leapt in front of the knight as the spell hit home. Merlin gasped in pain, staring in shock at the sizzling hole in his abdomen, and he heard the leader laugh.

Merlin's focus narrowed solely on the leader, everything else drowning out as that malicious laugh continued. The bandits all started chanting once more, circling the group, and when he started hearing the grunts of pain from his friends, Merlin’s mind, in a moment of pure clarity, repeated: protect them.

So, with a hole in his stomach, Merlin straightened up and locked eyes with the people hurting his friends.

“This stops. Now.”

And before they could get another word in, Merlin’s eyes burned the brightest molten gold. The wind whipped, the sky darkened, and the ground shaking with Merlin being the center of it all. The bandits backed up hastily, staring at Merlin like a newly found god, and Merlin blinked at the action—their actions full of desperate fear, and that wasn’t right. He never wanted to be feared.

Merlin let the power steep into his voice, “Leave now and never hurt anyone ever again. Do you understand?”

They all shook their heads, bowing at the waist for him, and right before they ran with their tails between their legs Merlin could swear he could hear their whispers of Emrys.

The minute they were out of sight, Merlin sagged. His entire body felt like it was on fire, his brain had pulsating pain that felt like lightning behind his eyes. And when his strength left, he felt two people’s arms wrap around him.

Looking up with all his effort, Merlin saw Lance and Gwaine on either side of him, the latter with a sword up at the abnormally silent group.

The world was blurring when Merlin heard Gwaine snarl at the king, “You take one wrong step and I will run you through.” And even in his state of delirium, Merlin knew Gwaine meant it.

“Gwaine,” Merlin whispered, the pain lacing through his body in waves, “it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” Gwaine bit back still facing Arthur and the knights with his sword raised high.

Merlin smiled sadly, staring at his knight, “Gwaine?”

That got the man’s attention, the anger draining out of him the minute their eyes met, and Merlin continued quietly, “Thank you.” The “thank you for not hating me for having magic, thank you for protecting me, thank you for being here” went unsaid, but not unheard.

Merlin saw Gwaine’s eyes water, “You’re going to be fine, Merls, you’ve been through worse, you know? This is nothing.”

Merlin let out a wet laugh, “Yeah, maybe.”

Gwaine was speaking again, but Merlin couldn’t hear him anymore. The pain became too much then, so Merlin let the black spots in his vision take over, and he welcomed oblivion with a smile.

—————

The next few times Merlin woke up, he was against someone’s front with a horse galloping at full speed underneath him. He would groan, but quickly succumb to the pain again.

The first time he could actually open his eyes completely, he was staring at a very familiar ceiling. Merlin gasped as he tried to move, his hand flying to his stomach.

“Merlin! Don’t move, my boy,” Gaius’s worried face came into view, “You need some rest, but you’re going to be just fine.”

Merlin figured as much when he took the hit, knowing his magic wouldn’t let him die that easily.

He blanched, remembering what happened, “Gaius?” he rasped out, his voice felt scratchy like he had been screaming for hours, “Is everyone…?”

Gaius frowned, but Gwaine, who Merlin just noticed was sitting right next to him, answered for him with nothing cheerful on his face, “Everyone is fine, thanks to you.”

Merlin sighed in relief, looking back up to the ceiling, and he heard Gaius pat Gwaine as he moved out the door leaving the two of them alone.

They sat in a comfortable silence until Merlin asked, his voice small, “Gwaine, what happened?”

Gwaine huffed out a breath, out of anger or pain, Merlin didn’t know, as Gwaine moved to sit next to him on the cot. Merlin grunted a little as he moved to make room for him, and Gwaine frowned at the noise.

“I’m fine, I promise.”

Gwaine looked at him in clear disbelief, “I’m sure.”

Merlin sighed, looking up at the knight, “Tell me?”

Gwaine nodded in defeat, “I threatened princess, as you know,” Merlin nodded, a frown forming, “I was going to throw you over my shoulder and run for it.”

Merlin blinked, “That was your plan? Even when you’re mad at me, you were still going to take me with you?”

Gwaine’s eyes widened, “I’m not mad at you! What made you think that?”

Merlin looked to the side, “You’ve been avoiding me, Gwaine, I know it.”

Gwaine flinched, “Oh. That.”

After the moment of heavy silence, with Merlin’s heart feeling like it was breaking, he moved on, “Whatever, you obviously didn’t need to use that plan since I’m home. What happened?”

Gwaine smiled a bit here, “Well, Sir Lancelot and I stood our ground. Lance had a lot to say about you for a man of such a few words. While I lifted you up, and took you away from the group, Lance told them everything. Arthur,” Gwaine shook his head, “he looked betrayed and hurt at first, but after a day of Lance’s tales of you, and mentioning how you literally just saved us once again without bloodshed, Arthur finally came to his senses—especially when I kept threatening him.”

Merlin started crying, unwillingly, blindly grabbing for Gwaine’s hand, “So, what now? Everyone knows and I’m not dead? Am I banished? Hated? Feared?”

Gwaine’s face was uncharacteristically soft as he wiped the tears from Merlin’s face with his other hand, “Now...now, we make history and show these assholes what they’ve been missing. Merlin,” he tightened his grip on his hand, “I always knew something was different about you. And I never, ever, feared you for a moment—even as you made those bandits shit themselves.” Gwaine let out a small laugh at that, the soft smile returning to his face, “I don’t know how many times I need to say this until it gets through that stubborn head of yours: I came to Camelot for you and you alone. No princess or wealth keeps me here, you do.” Gwaine stilled his hand on Merlin’s face, “And if I needed to, I wouldn’t have hesitated to grab you and run—I’ve always been prepared for that, actually.”

Merlin kept crying, “Then why?” Why have you been distancing yourself? Why did you make me think you hated me? Why are you so loyal to me?

Gwaine's face fell at Merlin’s hoarse and quiet question, “I’m not good enough for you. I knew how I felt, and I knew you deserved better than me. I haven’t stayed in one place this long before, and I thought if you knew that you were the only person keeping me here that I would scare you off before we even had a chance.”

Merlin stared at his knight, understanding and sadness flowing through him, “Gwaine,” he choked out, “you’re an idiot.”

Gwaine gaped, undignified, “Hey! Bold words for a man who is utterly vulnerable at this moment.”

Merlin laughed lightly, “An idiot,” he continued, “who I love.”

Gwaine’s eyes shone brightly, “Love,” the disbelief in his voice hurting Merlin’s heart, “You love me? Merls, are you sure?”

Merlin laughed again at the absurdity of the wild man in front of him, “Yes, Gwaine, I am sure. Only if you wouldn’t mind facing the uncertainty of my future—“

Merlin was cut off with a loud, surprise gasp when Gwaine threw himself on top of him for a hug, then grabbing his face, and placing a rather soft kiss to his lips.

“Merlin. I would rather be at your side, with the threat of the world crushing us, than anywhere else. You, my magically beautiful friend, will never feel alone again in this life. I give you my sword, my heart, and everything I am—if you will have me.”

Merlin nodded, his eyes watering once more, and smiled into the next kiss with his knight.

Merlin felt the burden of destiny in his soul lift in his embrace with Gwaine—and he knew, deep in his heart and soul, that with Gwaine at his side, they could face any uncertainty coming their way.

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