#slight cameo of me SotRT (very slight)

[fluffypotatey]

The Shrine of Emrys: An Additional factor for Merlin's Migraines

The day began like any other which is what Merlin blames for why he felt so relaxed and not as vigilant. Maybe if he was, the warlock could have been able to convince his friends that he spied deer in the opposite direction of what will now be the reason for Merlin’s anxiety. Unfortunately, hindsight always works better after an incident occurs never before, the little fucker.

“At least it’s not a well this time,” Gwaine chimes in, interrupting the tense silence that enveloped their party the moment the shrine came into their sights.

“How does that make this one better?” Leon sighed.

“Well, none of us will feel compelled to drink it!”

In Merlin’s periphery, he saw Elyan wince, the memory of when he was possessed still haunting him. No one blames the knight though. After that whole mess, Percival and Leon made sure to keep their group’s supplies always stocked with the right amount for missions or hunting parties. They even made sure to teach their own squires how to properly ration food and water, the best places to find drinkable water, and what berries were considered safe to eat. 

Arthur moved closer to the little shrine that sat near an old oak tree. He squatted and examined how the thin rocks were piled on top of one another, how the inside of it seemed to glow (was it from magic? A trick of the light? Or maybe there were diamonds inside, Merlin couldn’t tell and Arthur didn’t say.) and how the curved roof of the shrine sprouted thick branches, harvesting some kind of fruit. Merlin watched carefully as his king looked the shrine up and down, as his lips curved into a pensive frown, as he brought his fingers to his lips, contemplating.

“What do you suppose this one’s for?” he finally asked. “This one seems…less somber.”

And it is, unless, a shrine that held sweetmeats and honeycomb inside it was one of malevolent intent. But what a strange shrine that would be. Merlin couldn’t help but ponder what kind of evil sweetmeats and honeycomb could cause. The evil of too much sugar? The evil of glorious temptation? Frankly, Merlin wouldn’t mind if he were to fall for such a temptation. In fact, these offerings almost seem to…call to him. Like they were there for him.

“Because it is less somber, sire.”

Everyone turns to Percival. The knight lets out a cough like he surprised himself with that answer, or maybe he didn’t expect everyone’s immediate attention on him. Eyes curious and surprised that he held such knowledge.

“How so, Percival?” their king asks him.

And Percival answers his king, but it’s an answer Merlin was not expecting. Honestly, he never expected such an answer to even be one Percival had previous knowledge of. 

“Because this shrine is to Emrys,” the knight says with no hesitation, “and the Druids wish to keep him pleased.”

“Emrys?”

“Who is he?”

“Will he be a threat to us?”

And so, there went Merlin’s peaceful day with nothing magic related. He wished the earth could just consume him, take him away from what’s about to transpire, but the earth stays quiet.

“No, no, Emrys is not a threat,” Percival answers, quick to reassure his friends. “Well…” the knight makes a face. “He isn’t…meant to be a threat.”

Merlin tries his best to not feel offended by such a description. It’s not like Percival knows he’s talking about the knights’ beloved manservant. Merlin shouldn’t feel the slight of betrayal as his dear friend describes him as some cryptid Fae folk. Merlin is not a part of the Fae! As far as he’s aware, anyway.

“Explain,” Arthur ordered.

So, Percival did. Percival explained to his friends all he knew about the infamous Emrys. He explained why the Druids revered him. 

(“Are we even sure this Emrys is a him?” Merlin couldn’t help but ask. Maybe if he did, then it would derail the topic and Merlin would be safe.

“I mean, that’s how the Druids refer to Emrys, but,” Percival hesitates as he considers how to answer it, “they could be wrong. Sometimes their prophecies are very vague to the point that any person could fit them, and sometimes they’re not. But Emrys has not struck them down yet, so maybe?”

And so Percival continued his tales about Emrys, with Merlin’s plan foiled.)

Merlin did note how the knight made sure to steer clear of ever explicitly mentioning the cause of the Druids’ reverence for Emrys (Uther’s Purge), but that didn’t stop Arthur from picking up on it. Percival also explained certain details Merlin wasn’t even aware of. Details like Emrys being immortal for one.

“So you mean…” Merlin bit his lip. “This Emrys can’t die?”

“Not by a mortal’s hand.”

“Ah.” He could feel his throat closing in on itself, flashes of past moments flooded his head. Past moments where Merlin felt himself cose to death or moments where others gazed at him with unbridled terror because some poison didn’t work. Merlin’s head pounds, this is too much for him to process.

Something flickered across Percival’s face. Confusion, curiosity, then something else, but his face switched to neutral before Merlin could decipher it. The knight looked back to the rest of their party as he wrapped an arm around Merlin. It almost felt like comfort. Like a reassurance. Merlin had a brief moment of panic. Did he know? Will he tell? Is this just because Percival is a very tactile person? Did he notice that Merlin was no longer feeling well?

“You said he’s born to heal the wounds of the Old Religion,” Arthur says, snapping Merlin from the downward spiral. “That he was born as the Druids’ protector and healer.”

“Not just the Druids, sire. There are more than just the Druids who practice the Old Religion.”

Arthur nodded, his eyes looking back at the shrine, but, strangely, it was like he was looking at something further away. Something only he could see. A past memory? Or maybe old words he once ignored that have new meaning to them with this context.

“If he’s here to be their avenger, why do they have to keep him pleased?” 

It was Gwaine who asked, mouth full of food. Somehow, the handsome man had found an apple whilst their friend told them all about this revered sorcerer. Probably one of the items Leon had packed for them.

(“So he’s a god?” Gwaine had asked.

“No?”

“Wait, why’d you answer that like a question?”

“It’s really complicated–”

“So they worship him.”

“Yes but—”

“They hold a festival for when his power was first felt by everyone.” This one was Elyan. Both he and Gwaine exchange a look of understanding.

“Look–”

“And they say he is the chosen champion of the Triple Goddess.”

Percival sighed at his friends as they continued on with their, admittedly well-thought out, theory. It was times like these where he missed Lancelot, who he knew would have also brought up some interesting points that would have most likely fueled the flames to his friends’ assumptions. Although, Lancelot always seemed to know more than Percival despite him being the one raised by the Druids.

“Ok, fine, he’s a new god for them”

“But what is he the god of then? Say, Elyan do you still have those scrolls on that pantheon in the Mediterra—”)

Percival winces as he prepares himself to answer Gwaine’s question. Merlin couldn’t help but frown at that reaction. The Druids don’t see him as unpredictable do they? They view him as benevolent, right? Maybe they believe him to be wrathful like Morgana? He’ll need to meet with Taliesin soon just to make sure.

“About eight years ago, someone decided to challenge Emrys. She even went as far as to harm the Once and Future King–”

“The who?”

“There’s a prophesied king?!”

“Yes, he’s called the Once and Future King, their destinies are intertwined, he is said to bring in an age of peace and unity between those with magic and without—will you let me finish!”

The knights kept their mouths shut as Percival unveiled more about this sorceress. How she was the previous Priestess of Avalon (Merlin felt himself freeze, and he silently prayed that maybe Percival meant someone else), and that after attempting to force Emrys into joining her revenge plot against Camelot, he struck her with a lightning bolt.

“–So you see, the Druids felt that they needed to make sure Emrys knew they weren’t seeking to go against him. And while he is said to be their savior, there are Seers who have cautioned that Emrys can very well be their end if pushed too far. Nimueh’s demise was proof of that.”

Their circle of knights was quiet after that. Neither spoke nor asked Percival for more clarification, everyone too deep in their thoughts. Merlin, however, was an internal screeching mess. He had no idea that his battle with Nimueh caused such a reaction from the Druids. Honestly, with how much people continued to harm Arthur and the kingdom, he didn’t think anyone would have buckled down and built him shrines because of what he did. It was both strange and comforting, like his actions were truly being seen and appreciated, but also he felt something ugly curl into his gut. They didn’t build the shrine until he hurt one of their own.

They feared him.

Merlin wanted to sigh. He’s so tired of them solely viewing him like he was the Triple Goddess incarnate. He looked back at the shrine and how its offerings laid there to appease him. To keep him on their good side. Well, Merlin always was partial to some honeycomb. It wouldn’t hurt if he just…took the offerings, show them that he does want to see a future of peace between magic users and regular humans.

It’s not like Merlin wants to go against the Druids, but if these offerings will make them believe he is pleased with them, Merlin might as well. He wonders if someone overheard him admit to liking honey. Did they ask his mother about the sweetmeats? 

“Merlin!” It’s Elyan who grabs his wrist as it was closing in on one of the berry tarts (he hoped it was raspberry). “Do you want to get smited by Emrys?!”

It took every fiber in Merlin's body to keep a straight face. It took even more to not reply with a quip outing himself.

By the Goddess, how should he answer that question?

“No,” he said, eyes wide like a stunned deer.

“Then why did you reach for the offerings!”

What a silly question! These offerings are for Merlin, thereby he should have them, yes?

“I was hungry.”

“Merlin, we have plenty of food packed in our supplies,” Leon placated. It seemed he was trying to calm down Elyan, who became quite panicked when Merlin reached for the desired tart. Understandable though, Merlin knows Elyan meant well, but how can he explain why him taking the sweets won’t place Emrys’s wrath upon him without revealing that he is said wrathful Emrys (although he wouldn’t be very wrathful if they just let him take the tart).

“My bag is too far away though,” he said, like he was that six year old boy who followed his mother around the castle while she worked. He never wished to leave his mother’s side, so he would always complain if she asked him to fetch something a few feet away. Leon even gave Merlin the same look the boy’s mother gave him. This felt unfair. Merlin wasn’t some six year old with attachment issues. He was Emrys and this was his shrine, but he can’t tell Leon that.

“I’ll go fetch it for you, Merls!”

Bless Gwaine. Always after his own heart, that man. Not to mention, he also brought the knights’ attention to himself, granting Merlin the opportunity to swipe the tart from the shrine and shove it into his mouth. It tasted heavenly. 

Yes, this shrine thing was a great idea on the Druids part.

“What’s in your mouth, Merlin?”

Shit, he forgot to count Arthur. Arthur who only glanced over at Gwaine for a couple of seconds, and most likely saw Merlin shove the tart in his mouth. Merlin swallowed the rest of the  tart.

“Nothing, sire.”

Yes, good start, Merlin. He can play this game.

“Nothing?”

“Yep.”

“So I didn't see you eat one of the offerings to Emrys.”

“That’s correct, sire.”

“And was it good?”

“Very, like a taste from–” shit!

“Do you have a death wish!” Elyan hissed at him. Merlin refrained from answering that question. It seemed rhetorical, and his friend probably wasn’t seeking for Merlin’s honesty right then. “Emrys killed a priestess, what do you think he’ll do to you?”

“Well, she was being rude. I just ate a tart.”

“A tart not meant for you!”

Typically, in moments like these, the party is interrupted by either bandits or rogue sorcerers. This is mostly because moments like these escalate and people get loud, alerting enemies to their location. Then, when the dust settles, they are able to end disputes more amicably (this is because all the frustration is let out during the fighting, leaving the gang tired with no need nor desire to fight their friends right after). Unfortunately for Merlin, there is no spontaneous appearance from rogue sorcerers or bandits that aid Merlin in avoiding this conversation. What there is, however, is a well placed beehive hanging just above their camp. Maybe if Merlin faked a cough he could—

A distant roar is heard, coming from the west. It pauses everyone’s movement for a quick moment until Arthur makes the order to seek out the roar, claiming that such a beast is too close to Camelot for his own comfort. Elyan gives Merlin a stern look to mean that this conversation wasn't over as he made his way to the horses. Merlin breathes out a sigh in relief before joining the knights with their preparations. Whatever creature they find, Merlin will find a way to spare it as thanks (not that it’d know what the thanks is for, but that’s not important).

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my contribution to this post here and a special thank you to @bellamyblakru for beta-ing this ilysm <3 and read this fic by @0hheytherebigbadwolf that's inspired by the same post (it's very good btw)

#*jazz hands* #hope y'all enjoy #bbc merlin #merlin emrys #merlin the eldritch horror/diety in the magic community #knights of the round table #sir percival #arthur pendragon #sir elyan #sir leon #sir gwaine #slight cameo of me SotRT (very slight) #*in a deep voice* rated T for language #headcanon: percival is an observant little fucker but he keeps that to himself #alternate title was: in which Camelot's finest encounter a druid shrine and Percival gives them a crash course lesson #fanfic #fanfiction #my work #my fic post