#trust me if i could have picked anyone but uther for this i would have | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fluffypotatey · 10 months

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*smashes in like the Kool-Aid man*

PENDRAGON SIBLINGS YOU SAY????

I have. So many Feels. About Themst™

The complexity?? The layers?? The angst?? Hello??????

Their relationship is just So Much, because you are right, it's all tangled up in miscommunication and missed opportunities, and so many problems that can be sourced back to Uther "War Crimes" Pendragon, who wouldn't know a healthy relationship if it bit him on the ass.

If Merlin and Arthur are two sides of the same coin, then Arthur and Morgana are edges of the same blade.

Because it's the lonely childhoods, the shared grief, the friendship, the vulnerability, the fondness, the teasing, the envy, the jealousy, the almost romance, the protectiveness, the betrayal, the loss, the hurt, the refusal to let go and the desperate hanging on, and the love, the love, the love.

Indifference is the true opposite of love.

Hate is love that's gone rotten.

“If Merlin and Arthur are two sides of the same coin, then Arthur and Morgana are edges of the same blade.” oh fuck….

OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH FUCK

WAIT HOLD ON WAIT LEMME PIGGYBACK ON THAT BESTIE @0hheytherebigbadwolf (tagging you bc it will be a couple days after you sent this ask)

(Also, for anyone wanting background context on what me and bestie are bouncing off on: voilà)

OK OK SO

we are all familiar with King Uther being the greatest (worst) dad of all time, correct? places such high expectations on his “only son and heir” whilst never officially acknowledging Morgana as his daughter until the very end?

F+ father of the year :)

he is not above sending his children into the dungeon if they disobey him as seen here:

(Jfc he even put Morgana in chains like wtf)

also, he is not above using emotional guilt towards them when he deems it necessary (aka one of the only times he actually acknowledges them as his children)

UTHER (1x02 Valiant) I trust you will make me proud.

UTHER (1x08 The Beginning of the End) I’ve treated you like a daughter. Is this how you repay me?

UTHER (1x12 To Kill the King) You are the daughter I never had.

UTHER (2x08 Sins of the Father) You would believe a sorcerer’s lies over the word of your father?

not to mention that when Arthur or Morgana try to reason with him or argue with him since they are the only ones with the status to do so, he pulls rank

UTHER (1x12 To Kill the King) May I remind you that you are speaking to your King [...] Take care, child, or I’ll have you restrained.

UTHER (2x08 Sins of the Father) I am your king and your father. You will show me some respect!

UTHER (2x06 Beauty and the Beast) We live in dangerous times, I cannot allow you to undermine my authority.

UTHER (3x10 Queen of Hearts) You have caused this to happen, Arthur. My decision is final.

ngl i could include more but i have already spent hours searching for shit (YOUTUBE WILL DIE BY MY HAND THAT STINGY BITC—) but y’all get what i mean: Uther is an abusive fucker and it has messed up the conditions of Arthur and Morgana

now, about the double edged blade…..

as previously established, Uther is a fucking dick and wants his children to obey him but also adore him. with this behavior, the Pendragon siblings react in two ways: with anger & contempt or submission and remorse

way #1

i’m gonna start with Morgana because anger is the easiest to pick out throughout the show. in the first episode of the first season, our introduction to Morgana’s character is her lecturing Uther about executing the man Merlin witnessed upon entering Camelot (such a warm welcome for Emrys, mh?)

MORGANA I just don't think chopping someone's head off is cause for a celebration. That poor mother. UTHER It was simple justice for what he'd done. MORGANA To whom? He practiced some magic, he didn't hurt anyone. UTHER You were not around twenty years ago, you have no idea what it was like. MORGANA How long are you going to keep punishing people for what happened then?

early on, it is easy to pick up on Morgana’s resentment and anger at Uther, who she believes is blinded by his fear of magic and his need for control (which she isn’t wrong about). also, we find that she isn’t one to back off when poking the bear (Uther). she does it constantly in seasons 1 & 2

MORGANA (1x03 Mark of Nimueh) Why would she kneel on a cold stone floor morning after morning when she could make these things happen with a snap of her fingers? Like an idle king!

MORGANA (1x08 The Beginning of the End) How can this child be your enemy? He's just a boy. UTHER He is a Druid. MORGANA Is that such a crime?…What have these people done to you? Why are you so full of hate?

UTHER (2x04 Lancelot and Guinevere) How many men would you have me sacrifice to save a servant? MORGANA As many as it takes!

to be honest, i wouldn’t be surprised if screaming, arguing and berating Uther about his morals and ethics is her way of proving that she is not weak or submissive to his actions. i mean, Morgana grew up in a household the complete opposite from her time in Camelot. Gorlois, the man whom Morgana considers to be her father and one and only family member, was said to be “just” and “kind” and someone that Uther even considered a good friend who openly kept him in check. Morgana, until the age of ten, understood parental love and empathy unlike Arthur, who spent his whole life without any good or healthy substance of it.

the culture of Camelot and Uther’s wrath is not something Morgana was ever able to fully acclimate to as Uther himself pointed out in 1x12. She “was at odds with [him] since the beginning” and could never picture herself as a Pendragon (point further proven in 4x05: she looked revolted when Queen Annis compared her to Uther) because she didn’t share in their idea of magic = evil and a king = absolute control.

ironic in terms of future plot events, isn’t it :’)

way #2

compare that to Arthur: man’s respressed af. keeps all his emotions under lock and key if they are anything but haughty and serious. y’all, Arthur even says it himself how he “[can't] disagree with Father [Uther] in public.” whenever Arthur finds himself at odds with Uther, he holds his tongue and waits until he can disobey secretly (2x05 when he leaves to rescue Gwen, 1x08 when he helps Morgana sneak out Mordred in the dark of the night, 2x08 when he sneaks out to meet Morgause for more info about his mom, etc). it is only the rare moments when Arthur feels impassioned enough to speak up without fearing any retribution does Arthur talk back at him (so satisfying 👌)

ARTHUR (1x03 Mark of Nimueh) [Morgana’s] right, Father. You hear the word magic, you no longer listen.

ARTHUR (2x08 Sins of the Father) This is what fuels your hatred for those who practice magic. Rather than blame yourself for what you did, you blame them….You hunted her kind like animals! How many hundreds have you condemned to death to ease your guilt?!….You speak of honour and nobility! You're nothing but a hypocrite and a liar!

ARTHUR (3x10 Queen of Hearts) You can't forbid my feelings any more than I can. I won't deny them any longer, I love her. I love Guinevere.

we can even compare how the two react to Uther’s violence towards them

(ahahahahahaaaaa what a wonderful dad)

on the left, you see Arthur’s face right when Uther crushes the morteus flower needed to heal Merlin (his manservant/friend/????) and on the right, is Morgana after Uther discovers she was harboring a Druid child in her chambers and she refuses to listen to his reason.

notice how both faces are remarkably similar 👀

however, Arthur’s look of shock and dismay come from his hope that Uther would do the right thing. that he would help save Merlin’s life from dying of poison. that he wouldn’t use this as a method to teach Arthur “what it means to disobey and cross the king.” he truly did hope, just like he always does with the people he holds close. Arthur cannot help but hope and trust that those close to him will not betray him and yet so many do. hence the remorse

looking at Morgana, her shock comes from the fact that this might be the first time Uther reacted to her words and actions in a physical manner. my suspicion is that most of the time, all Morgana previously got was Uther reprimanding her and yelling at her to stop questioning his methods (bc, let’s be real, she was the favorite child.) never has he lifted a finder on her like Arthur and i have proof (cue transcript!)

AND! and, Arthur is constantly warning Morgana about not angering Uther any further because of the consequences she might face (consequences this boy is very familiar with) when Uther deems it necessary to “teach” his children obedience.

UTHER (1x04 The Poisoned Chalice) You have to learn there's a right and a wrong way of doing things. I'll see you're let out in a week. Then you can find yourself another servant.

UTHER (3x10 Queen of Hearts) You have caused this to happen, Arthur. My decision is final [...] This is for your own good. - UTHER She will die. The enchantment will be broken. You'll see I was right.

UTHER (2x08 Sins of the Father) I am protecting you from your own foolishness!

so educational 🥰 but see, because Uther presents his punishments as lessons, Arthur himself views them as just a fucked up but meaningful way of his father’s concern because “yeah, I am the first born son and only heir to the throne. of course I need to learn not to do silly things like disobey, talk back to him, be my own person.” <- I’m paraphrasing here

Arthur does and has never seen a way out of the life thrust upon him by Uther (see 3x06). succeeding Uther as king, marrying a noblewoman of high standing for heirs and alliance strength was always expected of him. Arthur never saw a way out of this. even when he and Gwen were in their secret relationship phase, Arthur had to remind himself that this would never last. he loved her and knew she loved him, but there was always that reminder (that sounded a lot like Uther) in the back of his head telling him that it would never last so long as he was prince. he had a duty (constructed by Uther) to serve Camelot and going against his father would mean (in his eyes) that he is going against Camelot (as Uther always presented it to be).

so unlike Morgana, he did not kick and scream but stood firm because that was what he believed was stronger. if he stayed in his lane and did his part, then he would be a good king, maybe even a better one than his father, for Camelot. however, the show proves that differentiating himself from Uther actually made him the better king and more respected, but this is not the meta for that. I am getting side tracked.

OK: so we’ve established parental issues between the two siblings. now onto their very complex, complicated yet beloved dynamic

sO, as i mentioned in this post (because i am lazy and too tired to copy/paste the evidence from there), these siblings do care for one another. they just go about it in the most hilarious and repressed and in-denial way (hilarious to me 😤)

when we meet them, it’s established that these two have known each other for some time. enough for them to bicker and have banter, you know, as you do with a Pendragon. also, should add, neither character are ever aware they are blood-related until s3 (because of some weak-ass bitch named Uther), so you have that very, uh, interesting subplot in s1 that everybody forgets about until you rewatch it. (honestly, I have so many questions. number 1: why???? number 2: it’s only in s1—was it scrapped??? is it like it never existed???? what was its purpose to the plot??? bbc explain yourself—)

however, despite how much it is shown that they do care for one another, they’re relationship in s1 is still undefined and vague as if they also don’t know how to accurately define what the other means to them. it’s very similar to the whole “i really love this person so much but is what i’m feeling platonic, familial, or romantic?” because….you know, guy and girl besties who are close are typically expected to grow romantic feelings for each other, so tbh i would not be surprised if both mistook their love as romantically inclined in the beginning bc, reminder, neither of them were aware they were siblings until much later.

[and this is ALL i am saying on this subplot. i do not want to cause any negative discourse, so if anyone has a few choice words about it, either keep it to yourself or feel free to talk about it with people you know. personally? not a fan of the ship and never will be, but i am not here to post about that.]

anyway, have some featured receipts showing Arthur and Morgana slipping up and showing how much they care for each other.

SEE!!!! LOOK AT HOW THE CARE!!!! SEE HOW THEY WORRY FOR THE OTHER AND WISH TO PROTECT THEM FROM HARM!!! (and see how even when they’re on opposite sides there is still that same love. just more warped and corrupted T^T)

^worried/protective Morgana

^Arthur’s face after Merlin informs him that there’s an intruder heading to Morgana’s chambers

Morgana is very aware of Arthur’s trusting nature. Arthur is very aware of Morgana’s empathy and righteous nature. they understand each other so well which is why Morgana knew just how to harm Arthur in later seasons and why Morgana’s betrayal hit Arthur so hard. it’s also why he never stopped trying to reach out to her in s4 & s5. as @merlinemrys said in this lovely post, the show’s driving force is love. love of all kinds. whatever conflict it is, love is there at the center of it all and, in Arthur and Morgana’s case, it does not save them (just like how love does not save Merlin or Arthur from what lies ahead, as the op of the post pointed out).

that is what makes their relationship/love be like a double edged sword!! that is why they are edges of the same blade!!! they protect and fight for what they believe in and for the people they love, but the same blades cut deep and twist their wounds into a lasting scar.

it is because of Arthur’s love for Morgana that he cannot help but hope and mourn the woman he once knew. it is because of Morgana’s love for Arthur that her feelings of hatred are so strong and ugly.

like honestly,

look at them T^T compared to before

their relationship is so tragic T^T because we knew them before it all went wrong. we knew they cared and understood each other. we knew that for some time, they only had each other to rely on for a friend, a crutch, a breather for when the royal life was too much. both of them were fighters and strive to honor their values. both of them had once leaned on the other for support, had wanted nothing but happiness for each other.

fuck, they didn’t even get the chance to really be siblings because they found out too late, and by then Morgana was on a war path and Arthur only found out at the last minute.

like fuck, man

two sides of the same blade: forged with love, yet used for blood

screencaps brought to you by me, @sourdough-morbread, and farfarawaysite

#i will spare you the gorey details of me trying to fine decent screencaps & screenshots for this fucking post or else i’ll get pissed again #(i am considering whether it is worth it to go to war with youtube)#special thanks to my bestie mor for being there for me at the gorey times and helping me find more screenshots #fucking love you bestie 💕💕💕💕#also only including s1-2 bc i am tired and they are the ones where we get pendragon siblings not trying to kill each other #forgive me for always bringing up uther and the pendragon sibs’ upbringing with him it will happen again #also after hours of rereading transcripts and rewatching clips of bbc merlin: it is so obvious that uther cared and treated Morgana like hi #own child more than Arthur. like jfc he let’s her get away with so much stuff he is way for gentle with his words towards her #when he realizes that he was too cruel or rude like bro…..where tf was that for arthur #it just adds to the complicated sibling dynamic because there is the added jealousy and resentment of knowing a parent loved another more #literally most of Morgana’s time with Uther was her at odds with him and yet he views her as his child more #well no ducking dur that Arthur ‘i-would-do-anything-to-receive-my-father’s-love-attention-and-pride’ Pendragon resents Morgana for #always being the one Uther goes easier on and finds ways to turn a blind eye for like wtf #also during my research i was reminded of how done dirty Gwen’s story was by bbc #loses her father to a king fearful of magic barely gets to mourn him bc she now has to keep up the smithy and her maid job; reunites #with her brother who’s been AWOL for some years and still they don’t get a moment to talk about their dad and mourn TOGETHER #her storyline is pushed aside by s4 bc now she’s fulfilling the role of Arthur’s love interest and oh yeah they still need to incorporate #the lanceot/guinevere scandal and then banish her for some episodes without even letting her brother be mad about it like ?????#anyway #continued saga of fluffy rereading transcripts -> uther: ‘it’s been a long time since Ygraine…since anyone’ me: ducking liar >:(#[sir leon begins the slow clap] king you dropped this 👑IT IS 1AM HELP 😂#place your bets on where my laziness for evidence came in! (I honestly don’t know lol scavenging evidence is all a blur)#spent 2 days on this post lol #me: ok i think that’s enough evidence for this argument…………ok maybe ONE more won’t hur—#me after day 2: ….am i done???? am i free????#pendragon siblings coming behind me with a steel chair: nah mate!#me: FUCK THERE’S MORE #bbc merlin #merlin meta #pendragon sibs

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bitsandbobsofwriting · 3 years

Text

Twin!AU Part 3:

Hunith and Uther alike have to face the consequences of their actions, Merlin (and everyone, really) decides that family doesn’t end in blood.

Part 1 Part 2

TW: Suicidal ideation (mostly past, but it sort of... flairs up a little here I guess)

Hunith’s face falls and she physically recoils at Merlin’s harsh declaration.

His hard gaze doesn’t leave her, even as she glances at Arthur, a little behind Merlin and to his side. The blonde has his gaze fixed on Hunith, but he looks away the moment they make eye contact, unable to stand the confused pain in her expression:

“Merlin? What happened?”

Lancelot and Percival approach slowly after handing the horses off to a couple of stablehands, and Gwaine puts his hand on Merlin’s shoulder, not that The Warlock notices; he clenches his jaw tightly before speaking, but continues resisting the urge to look away:

“You lied to me. About everything.”

Hunith’s eyes go wide and she gulps, opening her mouth and shutting it again as she struggles to think of a response. It’s then that Merlin finally looks away, gazing over the top of her head at the empty courtyard. Arthur quietly intervenes, his authoritative voice full of warring emotions despite it’s low volume:

“We should take this somewhere more private.”

Merlin doesn’t even nod, just turns around and walks back towards the castle, hands clenched tightly at his side before he pushes the doors open and stalks in without looking back. Gwaine and Arthur share a concerned look before the older knight rushes after him. Arthur gestures for Hunith to go first, but not without stopping her with a hand on her shoulder, and a muttered, almost teary:

“You had no right.”

Her face falls even further, but The Regent steps back and looks away before she can reply, and she timidly hurries through the door after Merlin and Gwaine. Arthur gives Lancelot and Percival a pointed look:

“I imagine we’ll be in my chambers, make sure we are undisturbed. I don’t want anyone interrupting unless the world is about to end. Let Leon and Morgana know that they can take charge of any meetings today.”

They both nod, but Lancelot jogs up the steps to stop Arthur before he can leave:

“I... know what she did was wrong, but don’t let Merlin be too harsh. He’s always been close to his mother, he’ll regret it later if he pushes her away completely.”

Arthur almost snaps out something about how Hunith isn’t Merlin’s mother, but he keeps it to himself, sighing and nodding:

“Yeah, I know, but she... she needs to know what this has done to him, how much he’s suffered needlessly because of this. There isn’t... I know she probably just did what she thought was right but... she needs to know. Merlin deserves an apology, and he certainly deserves the truth.”

Lancelot nods hesitatingly, but doesn’t say anything else, stepping aside to allow The Regent through. He catches up to the others just as Merlin slams the door open to his chambers, continuing to not look back as he heads over to the large dining table, leaning his hand against the back of one of the chairs and staring towards the window.

Gwaine and Arthur approach slowly, standing either side of him but not touching him as they wait in suspense for someone to start the conversation. Hunith already has tears in her eyes as she stands on the other side of the table, trying and failing to get Merlin to look at her. The harsh glare he laid on her before was horrific, but this... him being unable to look at her at all, that is worse:

“Merlin, please, I only did what-”

She’s cut off by Merlin’s harsh instruction:

“Sit.”

She glances to Arthur once more, but he just nods wordlessly at the chair in front of her; the only sounds in the room are the scraping of the chair on the stone floor and Merlin’s laboured breathing. He was evidently trying very hard to hold his anger in, and when he says nothing more once she’s sat down, Gwaine puts his hand back on his shoulder. He shrugs it off, finally turning to face Hunith but remaining unable to look in her eyes:

“Why?”

A tears slips loose from her eye and she sniffles, taking a deep, shaky breath and fiddling with her hands on the table. Arthur absent-mindedly wonders if Merlin would still do that too if he’d been raised with his actual family, if it was natural, or if he’d picked it up from her:

“Please, Merlin, I’m so sorry, I didn’t-”

Merlin takes in a sharp breath, tightening his gip on the chair in a way that looks painful, shaking his head:

“No. No apologies, no excuses. I want to know exactly why you lied to me, why you took this from me.”

His voice is deadly in a quiet kind of way, like he could snap clean in two and set the world alight at any moment. Gwaine looks worriedly between the other two men, clearly thinking on the same lines as Lancelot, but neither of them notice, Merlin’s gaze stuck to the table and Arthur’s stuck on Hunith:

“I would have told you one day, Merlin, you-”

Merlin finally looks up at her, the blazing fury in his eyes contrasting in a rather horrific manner with the steady stream of tears on his cheeks:

“One day when? Arthur’s known about my magic for ages. I’ve been in Camelot for years, you have had every opportunity.”

Hunith lets out a low sob, but doesn’t look away:

“I didn’t think you were ready, Mer-”

Merlin bites his lip and turns away, running his hands through his hair harshly before turning around again, quick as lightening, and pointing an accusing finger at her:

“No, you weren’t ready! You weren’t ready to face the fact that you lied to me about who I am, because you knew you had no right, because you knew I would be angry!”

Hunith stands, but doesn’t make any moves to approach Merlin at Arthur’s harsh glare and Gwaine’s worried gesture. He doesn’t think Merlin or Arthur would hurt her, he’d never even consider the idea, but he knows that his partner needs space to be angry:

“I didn’t want you to be upset,-”

Merlin scoffs and lets out a sob of his own, wiping his face harshly before responding loudly:

“Gods, I wonder why I would be upset! Maybe because you lied to me about everything?!-”

Hunith shakes her head desperately, but Merlin carries on without pause:

“-You had no right to keep this from me! I grew up alone, with no one but you to rely on because you made me think I was some kind of beast! Keeping me from Camelot, I understand, keeping it from me as I child even, I understand. But you’ve had years of opportunity, you are selfish, a hypocrite and a coward.-”

Hunith looks horrified at his admission, mainly the sudden reveal at how her treatment of Merlin had effected him independently of the lie:

“-I hated myself, I was terrified, I didn’t want to exist, because of you! You made me think I was some kind of unnatural monster and then you sent me to Gaius under the guise of teaching me control, so he could carry on the lie for you! He promised me I wasn’t a monster, that I wasn’t born evil, over and over, but he’s lied to me from the moment I met him, how am I supposed to trust anything he says?! How am I supposed to trust anything you say when I was just some unwanted, throwaway thing that you never asked for, and got rid of at the earliest opportunity?!-”

Gwaine and Arthur stare at Merlin with matching heartbreak in their expressions; it seems that Merlin is upset at more than just the base lie. The New Prince doesn’t even try to stop the tears, his breathing quick and ragged, and after a few moments of thick silence, he takes a deep breath and quietly continues:

“-I didn’t have to be so alone, that was all you, and Gaius, and Kilgharrah, and everyone else who lied to me. When I had nothing, I had you, and you lied to me.-”

Merlin’s voice cracks, his breathing shaky and his face pale as his entire world seemingly crumbles down around him:

“-You took my brother from me and you had no right. You’re not my mother, you’re just as bad as Uther.”

With those last words, he storms from the room, Gwaine hot on his heels. Arthur stays however, feeling the need to comfort the crying woman, but also feeling, maybe slightly cruelly, that she deserves this. He sighs, pushing the though from his mind and moving around to put a hand on her shoulder as she buries her face in her hands, sobbing:

“I... you did your best, I think he knows that, but that doesn’t change what you took from him, from both of us. He needs time.”

She just about manages a nod, and Arthur sighs again, standing awkwardly for a few minutes before he realises she isn’t going to stop any time soon. He gently pushes her to sit back in the chair before heading to the door, following Gwaine and Merlin.

They’re not in the corridor when he shuts the door behind him, but he’s not surprised at that. Merlin has always been private about his true emotions, always kept them close to his chest, he wouldn’t want anyone to see him having a breakdown in the middle of the hall. Months ago, Arthur would have thought it was left over fear of his magic being discovered, but now he bitterly thinks that it probably has more to do with the way he was raised.

He runs a hand through his hair, sparing a glance to the—previously unnoticed—worried looking guards. Thankfully, they were two of the men that had been trusted with the truth (Arthur reminds himself to thank Leon later for paying attention to who was stationed where), so Arthur isn’t too worried at the fact that they had likely overheard the one-sided yelling match. He fixes them with a commanding stare and clears his throat:

“Escort the Lady Hunith to the physician’s chambers when she emerges, leave her with Gaius, but don’t rush her.-”

They bow briefly in acknowledgement of his orders, and his question comes out quietly:

“-Do you know where they went?”

They needn’t ask who, and one of the guards answers lowly, matching Arthur’s volume:

“I think they headed to Sir Gwaine’s chambers, Sire.”

He nods and mutters a quiet thank you, slowly heading in that direction, knowing he had to go see them but also wanting to give them few extra minutes of privacy. They still had a lot to take care of, they’d missed several council meetings over the last few days, and whilst Arthur trusts Leon and Morgana to keep things rolling, he really should be making regular appearances. That, and they still haven’t dealt with Uther; to be perfectly honest, Arthur is surprised that rumours haven’t started spreading about The King’s disappearance and Arthur’s sudden growth of responsibilities, but he’s grateful. Don’t look a gift Griffin in the mouth or... something.

He finally stops outside the knight’s room—nodding at Lance who wordlessly stands guard in the corridor—before flinching at the quiet crying he can hear from inside. He knocks a few times softly before entering, shutting the door behind him and approaching the bed. Gwaine sits leant against the headboard, tears in his eyes as he holds a shaking Merlin in his arms. The Warlock lays besides Gwaine, in the middle of the bed, his face buried in the knight’s chest and his hands twisted into the fabric of his tunic.

Arthur lets out a deep, mournful breath at the sight of his brother so distraught, and he moves around to the other side of the bed, raising his eyebrow in question at Gwaine and settling next to Merlin at his singular nod. Merlin doesn’t seem to notice his presence, not until Arthur settles a hand on his back and whispers his name. He instantly calms a little, and Gwaine mentally scolds himself for the slight flair of jealousy; Merlin had discovered he has a brother, that his best friend is his brother, it’s no surprise that he calms easier in his presence, especially considering the reveal unburied so much hidden trauma.

After a few more minutes, Merlin turns to be laying on his back, though he makes sure to stay in Gwaine’s embrace. The knight leans down to press a kiss to the top of his head, and though he can’t see it, he can almost feel the slight smile on The Warlock’s face. Arthur moves his hand back to his lap, looking at the two of them out of the corner of his eye; he sees nothing but worry and utter adoration on Gwaine’s face, and he wonders just how he hadn’t approved of their relationship. Gwaine’s whispered words just solidify Arthur’s newfound belief in the man:

“I love you, Merls, no matter what.”

Merlin lets out a quiet, choked laugh, and Gwaine considers that a win, even more so when Merlin responds in kind:

“I love you.”

Despite their relationship not being a particularly new thing, Arthur hadn’t even considered the possibility that they’d reached that far, that their partnership was that solid; perhaps that had something to do with their general lack of PDA, which he had always wondered how Gwaine had put up with. He grimaces with a quiet realisation, but it catches Merlin’s gaze and he raises a questioning eyebrow, his tears thankfully dried. Arthur glances up at Gwaine, who smirks at him knowingly, before looking back down to his brother:

“Making you Crown Prince is something I’m actually quite looking forward to, but I’m going to have to crown Gwaine as well.”

Gwaine snorts in amusement but Merlin turns pink and coughs slightly:

“Well.. we haven’t really discussed marriage, Arthur.”

Arthur looks to him with an apologetic expression:

“Merlin, royals have different courting rules. Royal partnerships tend to be incredibly short before a marriage has to happen. Back when me and Gwen were courting, we hid not only because Uther wouldn’t have approved, but also because we didn’t want to rush things. I’m especially glad we did now, otherwise we would have had to be married by now. The whole kingdom know that you two have been together for at least a year, the moment you’re crowned...”

His voice trails off as he comes to a second, horrifying realisation. He stands from the bed and stares at Gwaine with wide eyes and a pale face:

“Oh my God. Oh my God. If neither me, you, or Morgana have children... once you two have been married... Gwaine will officially be third in line for the throne. Oh... fuck.”

Merlin and Gwaine freeze for just a moment before they burst into loud laughter, and Arthur shakes his head, pacing slightly and not paying attention to the knocking at the door. Lancelot walks in slowly, an amused smile of his face despite his confusion:

“Do I even want to ask?”

Arthur fixes him with an almost distraught gaze before glaring half-heartedly at Merlin:

“Why? Why couldn’t it have been Leon, or Lancelot?? Elyan or Percival?? Hell, I would have been happier with fucking George.”

Gwaine’s laughter gets even louder but Merlin calmly wipes the tears (of laughter, thankfully) from his face and looks to Lancelot with bitten lips and held in hysterics:

“Arthur just realised that once all the crowning ceremonies happen, Gwaine will be third in line for the throne, if I’m the last one to die and there aren’t any children.”

Lance’s eyes go wide and he clamps a hand over his moth in a poor attempt to hold in his laughter. He fails miserably, bursting just like Gwaine and Merlin had moments earlier. Arthur fixes an annoyed glare on him and waves a desperate hand:

“This is not funny.”

Gwaine just shakes his head as he finally manages to calm himself, wiping his face clean and sitting up straight, one hand still on Merlin’s shoulder:

“It’s hilarious, Princess. God imagine Geoffrey’s face. Imagine the council.”

Arthur just takes a deep breath and looks to the ceiling again:

“Fuck. Ok, alright, whatever. That is a problem for another time.-”

He looks back down to Merlin with an apologetic smile, after shooting one last withering glare at a still-smirking Gwaine:

“-You feeling up to council? I’ve missed a fair few, and I think it might be a good idea for you two to start making appearances as well. That and... as much as we’ve told them you have magic, it might be worth showing it off a little.-”

At Merlin’s wide, fearful eyes, Arthur holds his hands out placatingly and hurries to continue:

“-You don’t have to, but they're working on the ban repeal. Obviously not anything huge, but passing jugs or paper or whatever with magic might help desensitise them to the idea. Plus, now that you’re semi-officially royalty, and you have Gwaine or Leon trailing you almost everywhere, no one would dare attack you. And if they do, you have every right to defend yourself in whatever capacity you deem necessary.”

At Merlin’s still nervous face, Lancelot quickly tacks on:

“And they all know that Arthur would go ape-shit if anything were to happen to you.”

Arthur gestures at the knight and nods in agreement, nodding further at Gwaine’s quiet “He’s not the only one.” . Merlin takes a deep breath and shuffles off the bed, standing and straightening his clothes out with unsteady hands:

“Let’s go. You’re right, I’m going to have to get used to stupid council meetings at some point if you’re insisting on crowning me, might as well be now.”

Arthur and Lancelot smile proudly and Gwaine moves to stand at his side, straightening his own clothes before running his hands through Merlin’s hair, flattening and neatening it. Merlin stands still and lets himself be assessed and fixed with a soft smile on his face, and Arthur feels almost as if he were intruding on something personal and domestic, even more so than when they were professing their love for each other; he looks away awkwardly and Lancelot raises an amused eyebrow at him.

The four of them finally exit the room, Arthur and Merlin falling into step besides each other, Gwaine slightly behind them, and Lancelot trailing the three of them with his face pulled into a blank mask and his hand on his sword.

This time, there is no hesitation before they enter the council room, and no raised eyebrows when Merlin takes his rightful place alongside Arthur at the head of the table. Flanked by Morgana, Leon, Lancelot, and Gwaine, Arthur effortlessly takes control of the meeting, hurrying things along with a proud confidence and an easy authority that was slowly but surely being taken on by his brother, at his side.

The council session lasts for the remainder of the day, and though at least half of the councilmen yelp, Gaius obviously not included, when Merlin first starts floating things about or magically highlighting words or moving the room’s lighting around with a flick of his wrist, most of them are used to it by the time the sun touches the horizon.

Arthur finally calls an end to the meeting when it gets dark. Though he was in a slightly manic mood and desperate to get as much work done as possible now that he was actually free to attend meetings, he could see that the others, Merlin especially, were flagging. He knew it would happen eventually, he can’t imagine The Warlock has been sleeping much, and he definitely came to some sort of private, horrifying conclusion around half a candle-mark ago. The hitch in Merlin’s breath, the widening of his eyes, and the slight, tiny flair of every candle in the room thankfully went unnoticed by everyone bar Arthur, Gwaine, and Lancelot.

When the room empties of councilmen, Merlin stands and paces away from the table, hands fiddling roughly with his sleeves. Arthur waves Morgana and Leon away, thanking them briefly before nodding pointedly at the door. Lancelot follows shortly, and Arthur has half a mind to send Gwaine away as well, but he knows that would be somewhat selfish as the other man approaches his partner’s turned back:

“Merlin? Something wrong? I thought that went remarkably well.”

Merlin’s head turns quickly, his furrowed brows confused:

“What? What went well?”

Gwaine raises an eyebrow, glancing briefly at the neatly stacked paperwork on the table:

“The meeting? About planning your coronation and the legalisation of magic? That we’ve been in all afternoon?”

Merlin untenses slightly, turning around properly and using one hand to rub at his eyes tiredly:

“Oh, yeah right. It did go well. They didn’t freak out too much at my evil sorcery, did they?”

He tries to go for a joking smirk, but it falls flat, and Arthur walks towards him to put a hand on his brother’s shoulder:

“What’s on your mind?”

Merlin sags even more and Arthur quickly steps forward, gathering the suddenly distraught man in a tight hug. Merlin easily accepts, burying his face in Arthur’s neck and clutching the back of his tunic with shaking hands:

“I compared my mother to Uther. I told her it was her fault that I didn’t want to be alive. She’s never going to forgive me.”

Arthur shuts his eyes, stroking a hand through Merlin’s hair and muttering a quiet:

“Oh, Merlin, she loves you more than anything in this world, there’s nothing to forgive.”

Merlin doesn’t look up, but shakes his head roughly; before he can argue, Gwaine steps around the two of them, pressing a kiss to the nape of Merlin’s neck before stepping back and stroking a soft hand over his back:

“What she did was wrong, Merls, you’re allowed to be angry. And now you’re not so angry anymore you can go sit down with her and talk it out, ok? There was no way that first conversation was going to be anything other than difficult and heartbreaking, but you got through it, and now you can sort it out properly.”

Merlin relaxes just a touch, and Arthur gets the disturbing feeling swelling in his gut that Gwaine knew of Merlin’s (hopefully, former) despairs before the whole... twin thing. When The Warlock finally pulls away, he thankfully looks a little more confident, despite the drying tears on his cheeks; Arthur gives him a soft smile and nods towards the door:

“Tonight, or tomorrow?”

Merlin takes a deep, fortifying breath, and walks towards the door purposefully, wiping his face clean before taking Gwaine’s offered hand in his own:

“Tonight, now. I should... I need to talk to Gaius as well. I’ve been unfairly punishing him for long enough, I think.”

Gwaine smiles understandingly, though Arthur, who rushes to catch up and walk on Merlin’s other side, shakes his head with a frown:

“Not unfairly, Merlin. It would be well within your rights to cut them out of your life for the foreseeable future for this. But I also understand wanting to forgive them so you have more... support. They may not be blood, Merlin, but... they are family, and that’s ok.”

Gwaine gives him an annoyed look at his first words, over Merlin’s shoulder, but doesn’t say anything. Merlin stops in the middle of the hallway, suddenly and without warning, and Gwaine grunts slightly when his arm is pulled back. The Warlock spares him an apologetic smile before turning his gaze to Arthur. Arthur raises an eyebrow, but Merlin tilts his head and frowns:

“Arthur you do know that... I consider you family above all others, right? you’re right, family doesn’t have to be blood,-”

He squeezes Gwaine’s hand, almost subconsciously, and receives a gentle squeeze back:

“-but after what we’ve found out, after all of this, all that we’re doing to... fix it, to fix what was done to us... you’re everything, you’re my brother. Me forgiving Hu... my mother, and Gaius, doesn’t change that I trust you above them, I consider you before them. They’re family, but you’re family first.”

Arthur’s eyes widen slightly at Merlin’s stern assertion, but he wills the tears in his eyes to disappear as he nods once, his jaw clenched with emotion. Merlin smirks slightly and rolls his eyes, muttering something about an “emotionally repressed idiot” before pulling him into an eagerly returned hug. Gwaine just snorts at both of them, happily leaning against the wall with crossed arms as he waits. They pull away fairly quickly, hyper aware of the fact that they were in the middle of the corridor, and whilst basically the whole citadel had picked up on the fact that something had changed, is changing, they didn’t want to let on too much until official public announcements were made.

They hurry in their journey to the Physician’s chambers, it was getting late and they wanted to sort this out as soon as possible; Gods know Merlin isn’t going to sleep a wink until he's spoken to his mother again.

They pause momentarily outside the door, taking deep breaths as they attempt to block out the hushed conversations coming from inside, not wanting to eavesdrop. Merlin turns to Gwaine with a nervous frown:

“Would you mind... waiting out here? Just for a minute?”

Gwaine gives him a soft smile and nods, pressing a kiss to his forehead and muttering “Call for me when you want me to come in, alright? I’m not going anywhere.” before giving Arthur an encouraging clap on the shoulder and stepping back to lean against the opposite wall.

Arthur sends a grateful smile the knight’s way, receiving a respectful nod in return, before he turns to the door. After a nod from Merlin, he raises a hand that shakes only slightly, and knocks. The murmured conversations stop immediately, and Gaius’ voice calls out:

“Enter.”

With one last look to each other, the brothers open the door and walk in together, shutting it gently behind them and turning to face the shocked pair. Hunith stares at Merlin with tears in her hopeful eyes, but Gaius quickly clears his throat and stands straight:

“How can I help, My Lords?”

Arthur sighs and Merlin shakes his head at the Physician’s formal address of them, rubbing a tired hand over his eyes before taking a small step forward :

“Don’t... I’m not... just Merlin, please.-”

His voice is quiet and tired, and the pleading tone it takes on deepens Arthur’s frown. He lets out a shaky breath, biting his lip before looking up to Hunith and continuing:

“-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled. And I didn’t have any right to say those things; you’re... you’re nothing like Uther, and you did your best in a terrifying situation. You didn’t know any better, I shouldn’t blame you for how I turned out.”

Hunith’s tears overflow once again, and she takes in a shuddering breath as she steps hesitatingly towards the Warlock:

“Oh, my boy, you were right. I wasn’t ready to lose you, and I let that fear overcloud my judgement of what I knew to be right. I’m so sorry sweetheart, I should have told you who you were a long time ago, and it wasn’t fair of me to expect Gaius to carry on the lie, especially when you met Arthur, and especially when he found out about your magic.”

With that, Merlin pulls her into a tight hug, height difference be damned as he buries his face in her neck and shakes. Arthur gulps as he looks upon the scene, sharing a small, mournful smile with Gaius, the Physician understanding The Regent’s forgiveness in the small nod of his head. The hug doesn’t last quite as long as Arthur was expecting, though he supposes that forgiveness is more than just saying it aloud, and Merlin still has a great deal of self-worth related issues to get over, thanks to Hunith’s overly cautious raising of the boy. The Warlock clears his throat, his hands still on his mother’s shoulders as he gives her a weak smile:

“Igraine says thank you, by the way, for raising me with so much love.”

Hunith lets out a small chuckle, wiping away Merlin’s tears with soft hands:

“It was my honour, I’m glad that your... mother, is pleased.”

Merlin’s frown is brief, and he responds quickly:

“You’re my mother.”

Hunith’s smile grows, as does Merlin’s and she nods shakily, almost whispering:

“Ok... I... ok.”

Merlin lets go hesitatingly, but turns to Gaius after a moment or two. The Physician quickly interrupts anything the younger man could have said with a shake of his head and a soft smile, pulling him into a hug as he softly speaks:

“It’s alright, my boy. You were well within your rights to be angry, we had no right to lie to you in such a way.”

With Gaius and Merlin’s soft conversation happening to the side of the room, Hunith turns to Arthur with a hopeful smile on her face. He returns it faintly, and she pulls him into his own hug. He stiffens in her hold, wide eyes darting around the room as he clenches his hands at his side. It only takes her stroking a hand through his knotted hair for him to relax and hug her back:

“I’m honoured to have been able to raise your brother, Arthur, and I am sorry for keeping him from you for so long, it was selfish of me. I didn’t consider what you were losing, in not knowing that you weren’t alone, only what I would lose should I tell the truth.”

Arthur gulps and nods, but tightens his hold on her as the tears come to his eyes:

“It’s... ok. I understand, I think. The danger you put yourself in to raise and protect him was immense, I just wished I’d known sooner, so I could have done all of this sooner.”

They pull back, but Hunith keeps a tight hold on Arthur’s shoulders, an assessing frown on her face as she raises a hand to cup his cheek. Arthur leans into it, blushing slightly under her motherly gaze:

“I know. But you’re doing wonderfully, Arthur. You and Merlin will be the saviours of this Kingdom, I’m sure of it. Your mother would be so proud of you.”

A tear slips loose from Arthur’s eye as he harshly bites his lip. His voice comes out small and unsure, and Hunith has to resist the urge to pull him into another hug:

“You think?”

She just smiles and nods instead:

“I’m sure.”

Merlin and Gaius look upon the scene fondly, and Arthur’s blush deepens when he catches them staring. He steps back from Hunith who smirks at him knowingly as he frowns at Merlin:

“Shut up, Merlin.”

He just laughs and shakes his head:

“I always knew you had a soft spot for my mum.”

The Regent shakes his head and rolls his eyes, ignoring Merlin’s continued laughter:

“Either of you eaten? I’m starved.”

Gaius and Hunith’s smiles come a lot easier at that, and they shake their heads. Arthur leads the way out of the chambers, smiling and nodding at Gwaine’s raised eyebrow. The knight returns the smile, quickly sidling up to Merlin and re-taking his hand as Arthur speaks:

“I’ll let the kitchens know to have five meals sent up to my chambers, I’ll see you there in a moment.”

They part ways in the corridor, all of them with easy smiles and lighter hearts, especially when Gwaine eagerly regales his interpretation of Arthur’s reaction to having to crown him.

The next morning was once again tense. Arthur’s assertion late last night that he intended to finally deal with Uther weighs heavy in everyone’s minds.

Hunith and Gaius are once again tucked safely into the Physician’s chambers, and all of the King’s most trusted knights are called to stand guard in the corridor. Merlin and Arthur wear their smart clothes (a suggestion by Morgana that Gwaine thought was funny enough that he begged and begged until Merlin gave in), and they take in with them Leon and Morgana.

Uther looks manic, his hair unkept, his face unshaven. His clothes are clean at least, but they’re rumpled, likely due to the near constant pacing of the former King. The room is dark, the curtains obviously haven’t been opened in several days, but the dim candles highlight the mess throughout the room. Uther may still be being passed meals by the guards, but out of concern for the staff’s safety, no servants were granted access to tidy or otherwise serve.

His head whips around when the door opens, his enraged face turning red at the four people stood smartly by his door. He storms towards them, but Morgana, no longer scared of the consequences, holds a hand out and mutters a few golden words, halting him in his tracks. He apparently hasn’t lost his voice though, as he turns to Merlin:

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY DAUGHTER?! YOU-”

Merlin rolls his eyes and clicks his fingers, his eyes also turning golden as Uther’s mouth shuts with a clack. Leon manages to hold his smirk in, just stands still as the perfect guard, his hand on the hilt of his sword, but Morgana doesn’t even try, smiling openly. Merlin holds Uther’s furious gaze for a few more moments before looking to Arthur at his side, tilting his head in question. The Regent nods at him before stepping forward, his back straight and his face and voice Kingly:

“You will listen, and you will listen well, because I will not repeat myself. You are the only abomination in this room, and you will live with that for the rest of your days. How long that is, is up to you. I am Regent, soon enough I will be King, Myrddin will be Crown Prince, and Morgana will be Princess; when that happens, magic will finally be fully legalised, and the public will be made aware of your crimes. I will not hide things from my people, not like you have. No matter what you deserve, I struggle to bring myself to sentence you to execution, and you’ll be humiliated to learn, I imagine, that Merlin argued in favour of letting you keep your head when I brought it up.-”

Uther glances angrily at Merlin, but looks back to Arthur when he realises that he’s still incapable of speaking:

“-Therefor your options are as follows: You may go to the summer home on the coast, where you will be under constant guard, but will otherwise have a semi-free life. You will stay in Camelot, but live out the remainder of your days in this room only. Or me and Merlin will take a week long trip away to, say, Nemeth, whilst Princess Morgana and Sir Leon announce, organise, and undergo your execution. You have today to decide, we’ll be back this evening.”

Arthur doesn’t bother waiting for a reaction, turning his back on Uther and gesturing the others to lead the way through the door. He pauses momentarily, one hand on the door frame as he turns back, a mournful frown on his face as he quietly speaks:

“If you had just told the truth, if you had just owned up to making a mistake, you, me, Myrddin, Morgana, we... we could have been a family. You’re the one that ruined that, you’re the one that tore us apart, and I swear to you now, that whatever option you pick, I will never forgive you.”

That only seems to enrage Uther more, but Arthur isn’t quite sure why he bothered to hope for another reaction. He shuts the door behind him, waving at Merlin to reset the magical locks as he sighs and rubs tired hands over his face:

“Well at least that’s over and done with.”

Leon pats him on the shoulder consolingly, and Elyan raises an eyebrow, glancing around at the others and sighing when he realises no one else is going to ask:

“He didn’t take it well then, I’m guessing?”

Arthur takes a deep breath and stands straight, shaking his head. Morgana is the one to answer however, and Arthur appreciates the way she makes a genuine attempt to keep the humour out of her voice:

“No, he wasn’t best pleased, but I think he’s accepted that he has well and truly lost this battle. Something he’s not entirely used to, I suppose.”

The knights nod in understanding, and Merlin lets out a deep breath, tilting his head slightly:

“Weird to think that he’s my... dad... ugh.”

They all chuckle at that, even Arthur, though they all stop with concerned frowns when Merlin suddenly straightens up with wide eyes and an open mouth:

“Oh... my God... how did I...- What?!”

Arthur puts a hand on his shoulder, his frown deepening:

“Merls?”

The Warlock just ignores him, turning to Morgana with still wide eyes:

“You’re my sister! I’ve been focusing so much on how Arthur’s my brother that I didn’t even consider the fact that you’re my sister!”

Morgana takes in a sudden breath, and all bar Leon (who just raises an eyebrow and then rolls his eyes when he realises that he’s the only one unsurprised by this) stare at the two of them in shock. Morgana slowly pulls Merlin into a hug, and the two of them clutch each other tightly as a grin grows on Arthur’s face. Leon gives him another clap on the back, this one more congratulatory (if a little confused. Honestly, how did they miss that?), and the others cheer just as Gwen turns the corner into the corridor. She smiles confusedly at Merlin and Morgana, still hugging, as she sidles up to Leon, whispering:

“What’s the occasion? They find Uther dead?”

Leon laughs but shakes his head, leaning down to mutter his response:

“They only just now figured out that they’re siblings.”

She looks up to him quickly with a disbelieving raise of the eyebrows:

“Wait, just now as in, just now?-”

Leon smirks and nods firmly, and Gwen shakes her head as she laughs:

“-It’s been almost a week.”

Leon laughs as well leaning against the wall as the others chatter excitedly among themselves:

“Yeah, apparently you and I are the only ones who had considered the idea. These are all the smartest people I’ve ever come across...”

He trails off, but Gwen looks up at him with a teasing smirk:

“And yet sometimes...?”

They both laugh quietly, shaking their heads when Percival catches their eyes and tilts his head in question.

The group walks away soon enough, heading to one of the smaller dining rooms for an early lunch and a chance to discuss their intentions for this afternoon’s council meeting. Morgana, Merlin, and Arthur walk together, and conversation flows between all bar Gwaine, who stares at the back of his now betrothed’s head with the quiet adoration and lowly simmering excitement of someone that knew the man he loves is finally getting all that he deserves.

END of Part 3!!!

Part 4 will be VERY short. Will be just about post coronation and public announcement, will probably contain Merwaine’s wedding, some casual magic, some more family bonding.

I hope y’all enjoyed this!!! I wrote it surprisingly quickly once I set my mind to it

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mysdrymmumbles · 3 years

Text

Steadfast - October Writing Prompt

Thank you to @toastvogel for suggesting Chyrus. He is the best paragon <3

..................

The Archon sits on no throne, but even without one, many kyrian often see her as a more distant figure. It is understandable. Even if she wasn’t a god, she is the leader of the realm. By her will is Bastion maintained, and by her hand are the ascended directed. There is more work that goes into doing even those two dealings than most will ever know, and she does so much more than that. It is a wonder she ever has time to address any of her subjects.

In that way, Chyrus can’t help but wonder—hope, really—whether she is at least somewhat protected from some of what is happening right now. She is not at the temples, watching their brethren fall before each other’s blades. She can feel the realm wither around her, in spite of her will, but she cannot see how that crushes the spirits of those relying on her unwavering resolve. She is spared their doubts.

Until those doubts become too powerful.

And then she is blindsided with the betrayal.

Because most anyone else could have seen something like this coming. Perhaps not on such a grand scale, but there were signs, clear as the skies over Bastion.

Chyrus frowns as the sound of a broken chime reaches his ears. With a quick inspection, he finds the culprit underfoot, half crushed under his large toes. Kneeling, he picks them up gingerly, the lute-like chimes tiny in his palm, and the ring they used to hang on broken.

It’s hard to imagine what could have damaged it so. Someone getting thrown into it and their weapon catching it just right? Or had one of their many attackers been so overcome with rage that the sound of the gentle instrument filled them with such animosity that they wanted to make sure they would never play again?

There has been so much heartache in Bastion throughout the eons.

Bastion’s pride is its noble cause, but perhaps it is because he does not cling to such emotion that Chyrus has always been able to see the melancholic undercurrent. The broken hearts sent back to Oribos to be judged anew because they could not relinquish the memories of their mortal lives has always been there. Friends and students alike have ‘fallen short’ over the years. He wonders where they’ve gone, sometimes—those he remembers.

And there are those who have done as was required of them, who sometimes quietly peruse their old memories, watching the foreign stories play out with a quiet resignation that their sacrifice was for the greater good. Still, sacrifices are nothing if they are not mourned from time to time.

As Chyrus peers around to see if there are any other pieces of the little chimes to be gathered—to be given to someone with smaller hands who needs so desperately something to focus on other than the present—the sound of large wings grow closer.

He catches the last bit of pipe beneath his foot as Thenios lands, unintentionally scattering the debris left in the forsworn’s latest attack with his great wings.

Chyrus offers him a word of greeting before picking up the chime. It wouldn’t do to forget it, and even though there was no proof of it, Chyrus has often felt like little objects could have a feel to them. They could know when they are broken and appreciate when they are repaired.

It’s a notion Visephone smiles to think of, and one that Xandria will mull over before irritably asking questions that have no answers. Simple things that cannot be done in front of their charges, but are held precious in those fleeting moments when the paragons are alone together.

This is not going to be such a moment, Chyrus can tell, if only by the thin line of Thenios’ lips.

That doesn’t stop Chyrus from giving him a simple smile himself. “What brings you all the way out here?”

Thenios stands tall and firm, armor shining in Bastion’s radiance.

That in itself makes Chyrus’ heart hurt. Thenios does not don his armor for any occasion.

Or he didn’t. Not before the forsworn, before Devos’ betrayal. Though he would never voice it, Chyrus often suspects that Devos fall from grace affected Thenios the most severely of them all, hitting him harder than even the Archon.

How often had the two visited each other’s temples in casual attire to sprawl out together and read. Thenios usually brought the scrolls and books, and Devos was always pleased to see whatever it was that he had for her. She’d once told him he could make even the driest, most technical of reports sound fascinating.

Chyrus can still remember finding them curled up together, feathers fluffed up as they read through something that wasn’t work related, and how Xandria had hounded them about how adorable they were for weeks after, insisting to Visephone that she had missed something absolutely precious.

When it was just them, of course. When they have those fleeting moments where they can simply be people instead of unyielding leaders.

Thenios hasn’t taken his armor off since Devos’ death.

The paragon motions for Chyrus to follow him, and they both take flight, soaring out into the fields where they will not be overheard.

Their feet have barely touched into the soft grasses when Thenios begins to speak, unable to contain himself any longer. His voice is a mix of its usual matter-of-fact tone used to inspire confidence among his aspirants and something else, something almost accusatory. “The Maw Walker has recovered some records for me. Salvaging what the forsworn are so hasty to destroy in their hunt for whatever they think matters more.”

“We are fortunate to have such help—”

“They brought me this.”

There is nothing particularly noteworthy about the record in Thenios’ palm, but Chyrus knows what it will be before it plays. Funny that he was just remembering this aspirant as he surveyed the damage to his temple. She had been close to ascension when she fell. She came to him, telling him that the path had taken everything from her, made her into someone she didn’t recognize.

She had been the latest in a long line of those who were not meant for the path after all.

Chyrus listens to his own disembodied voice recount the incident and remembers musing about whether there was another way for those within Bastion, a way that didn’t require a complete abandonment of the past.

The reasons for the path’s current route were valid, of course. No good came from ferrymen who judged the souls they collected.

It was a hard path, but it was one that had served them well for almost all of eternity. And if it weren’t for the lack of judgment in Oribos…

Chyrus makes no offer to take the record from Thenios, more than a little sure that if he did try, it would be denied him. Instead, he waits for Thenios to make whatever point he is there for. A chiding perhaps that such a thing was left where aspirants could find it?

“Did she ever talk to you?”

The question is a surprise, a reminder that Chyrus cannot predict everything his fellow paragon will think or do, and it hangs between them.

“No,” Chyrus finally replies. The word feels cruel somehow in its succinctness. “The first—and only—time I heard of Devos’ dissatisfaction with the path was when she told us of Uther’s injury.”

Thenios flinches at her name. No armor can protect him from his memories, and Chyrus has been worried about what will happen to him. Forgetting their fallen brethren will be nigh impossible. Their paths were far too entwined and to take her away would leave him with so much emptiness…

Chyrus has already lost so many, his heart breaks at the mere of thought of who else may fall, of who might be left a shell of their former selves because of hearbreak they can’t overcome.

“She told me.” Thenios voice cracks at the last word. He is quiet a moment before clearing his throat, his composure regained. “I told her to be careful the sort of thing she said.” His chin inclines, gaze skyward. “I did not think…I did not know that you had wondered about this very thing.”

“Haven’t we all?” Chyrus offers gently. None of them are above doubts, after all. He reaches out and lightly places a hand on Thenios’ arm, a connection his friend so clearly needs. The action startles Thenios out of his thoughts.

“If I’d listened…if I had let her talk…hadn’t let her feel so—” Thenios curls his fingers around the record, practically crushing it in his hand as he lowers it to his side, fist shaking. “How could she have… the Jailer.”

His voice cracks again, and this time he stops talking, a tremor in his jaw as he clenches it.

With a quick step, Chyrus reaches out and wraps Thenios in a hug, ignoring the way the bits of armor poke into his bare arms. There is hesitation, and then Thenios grips Chyrus back, clinging to him like a drowning man in a stormy sea.

There is not enough time. There may never be, but here, now, Chyrus is acutely aware of how damaged his friend is and how there are people who need both of them to be unbreakable pillars.

It is cruel that he can offer Thenios so little of his time. Chyrus makes himself a silent vow that he will be there for his friend, to properly mourn what they have lost when things are finally set right.

When Thenios pulls away, a shiver runs through his feathers and for a moment, Chyrus thinks he may take his helm off.

Instead, he takes Chyrus’ hand, surprised to find the tiny bits of broken chimes already there as he places the record among them. “I would hate the forsworn to get this and think you would be a good target to convert.”

Chyrus chooses not to point out that they have already tried. “Thank you, my friend.”

Thenios turns away and then pauses, looking back at him. “If you need someone to listen to your doubts…”

Chyrus wants to tell him that Devos’ fall is not his fault, but there is no way for words to reach, much less ease, the guilt there. Instead, he gives Thenios a nod and a gentle smile. “Of course.”

Thenios attempts something like a goodbye, but when he can’t trust his voice to hold steady, he instead dismisses himself without ceremony. Chyrus does not insult him by watching his retreat, instead turning his attention back to his temple.

There is much to be done.

#world of warcraft #chyrus #my boi #thenios #devos #thenios x devos #kyrian #Chyrus and Thenios are bros #the best bros

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fandom-star · 3 years

Text

Writer’s Tag

@its-all-ineffable tagged me to do this, but it’s a long one so I’m doing it in a different post! Thank you very much! I love doing these so much!

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How many works do you have on AO3?

164 (possibly 165 by the weekend if I post the Witcher one I finished the other day)

What's your total AO3 word count?

181468

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

It’s Okay (Merlin: Merthur) - 569 Kudos Pulchra (Night At The Museum: Jedtavius) [NSFW] - 286 Kudos A Father’s Wisdom (Merlin: Merthur: Uther-centric) - 270 Kudos Crush (MCU Spider-Man: PeterNed) - 262 Kudos Comfort Blankets For Sleepy Gods (MCU Loki Series: Lokius) - 245

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Sometimes. I try to if I’m not in a non-social mood. Mostly, if I start off on my page before reading any fic and see that I have something in my inbox and it turns out to be a comment on my fic, then I’m more likely to reply to it. Idk why it works like that. Otherwise, it’s kinda touch and go whether or not I’ll reply to something, you’ve got a 50/50 chance, but I always read and appreciate every one that I get.

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

*Looks at my abundance of angst fics* There’s... a surprising amount of angst without happy endings in my repertoire. Um. I’ll give you three that I vividly remember. (All of these are Star Trek and Spones) Written In The Stars - This is one of my really early works, and was gonna have a sequel that made it have a less angsty ending, but I could never get into the rhythm of writing it. I won’t spoil it, but this is probably the only fic I’ve written where Sarek is a straight-up dick. Battlefield - As the title suggests, there’s war with no real context. And major character death. It’s sad. I genuinely made people cry with this. I am both proud and apologetic of that. Unreal - This is probably one of my more complex concepts, and I’m really proud of it. Features ooc Spock with contextual reasons I won’t spoil, defensive/protective McCoy and major character death of a sort.

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending

This is kind of difficult, bc while I have excessively written angsty endings (see: above answer) I do usually write happy endings, and I can’t remember all 160 fic endings left over, and even then it’s difficult to rank them by happiest. I like Nutcase {Murdoch Mysteries: Watts-centric) a lot, oh and also Blame It On Me (Star Trek Pricard: Hughnor) which is angst with a happy ending (and has amazing art accompanying it). There are many others with happy endings, but like I said I have no idea how to rank them by “happiest”.

Do you write crossovers? If so, What is the craziest one you’ve ever written?

I don’t really, but I have written one as a request that I really really enjoyed. A Good Day is ThorBruce and is set in the DS9 era of Star Trek, in which Thor is a captain and Bruce is his chief science officer. It’s really adorable and features sleepy, over-worked Bruce and a very characteristically happy Thor.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

No, I don’t think so, unless you count unsolicited advice I felt I couldn’t turn down on ff.net when I was struggling to write Uhura. I’m kind of surprised I haven’t tbh (not that I’m complaining) since I do write for some very popular fandoms and ships (although, conversely, also some very niche fandoms and ships).

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

I write it but have only ever posted it thee, four times if you count the exploratory one I posted under a pseudonym that wasn’t really that smutty. I’m hoping to get the confidence up to post some of what I’ve written tho, bc I do really like hat I’ve managed to do with some of it.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not as far as I’m aware.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes, I have! A lovely person found my fic 1967, which is probably one of my favourite Spones fics I’ve written, based around the UK’s decriminalisation (well, partial) of homosexuality, and traslated it into Hungarian here. I’ve not been able to check it out, due to not knowing a thing in the language (tho I could probably ask my friend to) but the translator seemed really lovely, so I trust them to have done a good job.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not something I posted, but before I even started posting fanfic, me and my best friend really randomly started writing a Star Trek TNG x Star Wars crossover whenever they were at my house. We gave up on it after about a year and never wrote much for it, but it was... it was something.

What’s your all-time favourite ship?

This changes all the time with my hyperfixations! One that will always be in my heart is obviously Spones, my og ship and within my special interest. Currently I’m obsessed with The Witcher so I’ve got Geraskier on the mind but who knows when that might change!

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

In terms of fanfic I don’t really have any that I don’t think I’ll ever finish. I have an original script that I started writing months ago but only got about three scenes into and haven’t touched since bc I don’t actually have a plot for it.

What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue; Is situations one? That sounds like a good and fancy way of saying AUs; Finding synonyms should be one, that’s like half my search history

What are your writing weaknesses?

Description; Despite my talent of finding synonyms I feel like I do repeat words a lot; Planning and outlining, I just don’t do it - it works for me tho.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I’m pretty sure the only times I’ve really done it is for Jedtavius (having Oct speak in Latin occasionally) and I might have done it once or twice with Spock speaking Vulcan, both times it’s mostly terms of endearment or Oct wanting to be romantic. Idk, I don’t really care about reading dialogue in other languages as long as there’s a translation somewhere in the work or I can easily pick it up or search it. Just do whatever, it’s your writing. As long as you do it well and it makes contextual sense, I don’t really care.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Unposted: Star Trek: The Next Gen Posted: Sherlock (I actually recently reread my first ever posted fic, it’s a long haul (just over 45k), but if anyone ever wants to see a work where my writing visibly improves lemme know and I’ll email the pdf to you)

What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

Why would you do this to me??? I love most of my fics!!! I’m just gonna link a few here cause I’ve been doing this for an hour now and it would definitely take me an hour to choose just one! The Relationship Series - modern AU, autistic Spock (written by a self-projecting autistic writer), there’s angst spattered about but is especially prominent in part 6, I just really love this series Promises You Can’t Keep - Loki spoilers, I love this bc it’s based on “what if my finale theory was right instead of being debunked three minutes into the episode”, definitely angst with a hopeful ending I love all of my Charite At War fics, but I’m gonna link my 20 years post-canon fic Grow Old With Me and my modern AU You Give Me Your Light - both have some heavy topics (post-canon is set in 1960s East Germany, modern AU topics are tagged) but I adore both with my entire heart You’ll Never Burn - Merlin/Merthur, again kinda heavy (not as heavy as the Charite ones in my opinion) but short and everything is tagged I love all of my Babylon 5 fics but Secret Rendezvous will always have a special place in my heart. It’s very sweet and essentially follows Vir and Lennier trying to navigate coming out about their relationship to their ambassadors I also recommend all the of the fics I’ve already linked in the post ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Now for the hard part - tagging!

@esperata @tallysgreatestfan @iwritesometimes @marlinspirkhall and any other writer mutuals I’ve likely forgotten but I’ve already spent WAY too long writing this post asfdhdskjdgha So I apologise, but if you wanna do it, absolutely go for it, this was so much fun and really made me realise how much I’ve achieved in 4.5 years.

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scoooby · 4 years

Text

The Reason to Live (is to Die For This)

Read on AO3

Continue to read on Tumblr

Beta: @tenderlyannoyinglight

Word count: 6.3k

Trigger warning: descriptions of pain, death and violence.

Relationship: Merlin/Arthur *if you don't like merthur it can be taken as gen if you skip the last hundred words

Summary:

"I don't want to leave him. He thinks. I can't.

It shouldn't be the first thing he thinks of. He should be thinking of his mother, Gaius, Gwen. He should be thinking of how Kilgharrah had said he was an immortal, but Kilgharrah is also a big lying liar who lies, so he shouldn't have believed him. But he doesn't think of any of those things, after ten years of sacrificing, his brain is wired to think of Arthur, only of him."

In which Merlin is stabbed instead of Arthur. Oops.

Merlin doesn't know where the blood came from, flowing down and not stopping. There's so much of it staining the ground and his clothes, forming a puddle, he feels dizzy and nauseous looking at it. It's been almost ten years, but the sight of injury still repulses him. It scares him even more because he can't find its source. No, it terrifies him. Whose blood is it? Where is he, exactly? But he tries not to dwell on it and wonders where Arthur is. Wasn't he just here? Silly Arthur, always disappearing.

He giggles, then sobers up. He has more important things to worry about. Like the blood. Blood is so red. Like strawberries. He wishes he could make strawberries right now, Freya likes them. Speaking of which, he should probably talk to her soon.

He touches his hand to his abdomen, startled when he feels something wet and sticky. Oh.

Oh.

It's his blood. He's been maimed. He's the one dying.

I don't want to leave him. He thinks. I can't .

It shouldn't be the first thing he thinks of, and he should be thinking of his mother, Gaius, Gwen. He should be thinking of how Kilgharrah had said he was an immortal, but Kilgharrah is also a big lying liar who lies, so he shouldn't have believed him. But he doesn't think of any of those things, after ten years of sacrificing, his brain is wired to think of Arthur, only of him.

It shouldn’t be. He should be more carefree and alive and happy, like he is now. And he’s so happy.

He distantly hears a thud behind him, as if something heavy, clad in metal, had fallen. Swords are made of metal. So is armour. Stupid armour. It takes so fucking long to put armour on Arthur.

He feels hysteria rise up in his throat, he feels like laughing, He doesn’t know why. He’s been stabbed, he should care more. But those thoughts don’t even hit him. He wants to run, to jump. He could fly, like Kilgharrah. Or Aithusa. Can Aithusa fly? He would have to ask Morgana.

But Morgana doesn’t like him.

Maybe Balinor would know when dragons start to fly. He knows a lot, right?

Oh, but he can’t. Balinor is dead. Balinor is extremely dead and rotting. Hunith would be sad if she found out, he doesn’t want her to be sad. She deserves the world. He won’t tell her.

“Don’t worry,” he coos, even though there’s no one there. “I won’t tell.”

He tries to get up, but his knees are weak. He doesn't know why his ears have started to ring. Hhhhh. Hhh. That’s all he hears. It sounds weird. Weird. Weirdweirdweirdweirdweird. What a word, All words should be like it.

Everything is just a blob of grey and black. All he sees is a spinning world and green spots in the corner of his vision. He doesn’t mind, he likes green. He tries to say something, to scream maybe, yet all that comes out is a small, meagre groan.

He feels his eyes closing- And that's it. That's all there is-numbness, and then nothing.

Arthur is not ashamed to admit that he killed Mordred. The knight almost killed Merlin and dared to smile after doing so. Arthur couldn't just let him get away with it, no matter how much it pained him. Guilt doesn’t even come to mind. Mordred isn’t worth it - he tells himself as he walks, knees shaking, towards his manservant's body laying still on the ground.

He's bleeding at an alarming rate. His eyes are closed; his face deathly pale. Arthur doesn't bother with modesty as he rips the stupid brown jacket off (one would think he would come into battle wearing proper armor, at least). He had imagined doing it many times before, in entirely different circumstances, maybe with a bed underneath them.

Merlin torso is littered with scars as wood is with lines. Most of them are healed, so that only white lines are painting Merlin’s pale skin, while others are red, but still no cause for intervention. An enormous hole inflicted near his lungs, however does. Arthur’s not new to blood or injuries, but looking at this one does make him wanna vomit.

He stops, unsure of what to do. His hands hover over the body. What can he do, dammit? He knows first aid, Gaius taught him some when he was little. Nothing has ever come close or as grave as to this. He has been taught to call for the help of nurses, never to do it himself. He has to stop the bleeding, but how ? He's supposed to tie something around it; he remembers that much at least. He looks towards Merlin's face, exhausted and un-moving, a red cloth loosely tied around his neck. All he has to do to stop the blood temporarily, until he delivers Merlin to safe, more medically trained hands, is to tie the stupid red neckerchief around and hope for it to be the right thing.

He prays as he puts it around the gash. He's not entirely sure who he's praying to. It’s an unconscious reflex to beg for health. To be able to say it is someone else's fault, because he knows it's his. He should never have let Merlin come in front of him; let the sword pierce him. Damn him; damn Merlin; damn Mordred; damn the War; damn Morgana; damn everything.

It sickens him, all of it. This cave, this life. The air is dirty. The metallic smell of blood engulfing everything and making it its own. Throwing up would sound like a good idea if Arthur didn’t have more pressing matter at hand.

The air also smells of disappointment. What is he even doing? He's just two years into his reign, the army is practically gone. So many knights are dying in his name, right now, with their belief in him. And now Merlin is going to die too.

No. Merlin can't die, I won't allow it. His resolve hardens as he picks him up in his arms, Merlin’s head on his shoulder, back bent so gravity can keep the blood inside. and carries him through the mass of dead bodies. Arthur places him on the horse and climbs on behind him, arms on the reins and still supporting Merlin’s head.

It's a long ride home. You have to make it. For him. Is the only thought he clings to.

The aftermath of the war lingers everywhere. Bodies within quarter of a mile of another, their sunken eyes staring at them as the ride past.

No one stops them, too busy focusing on their own injured. Arthur's head is down to not see them. They probably hate him. With all of his being, he agrees.

Morgana, from an early age, showed to be better fitted for the crown. Might have even made Camelot a better place, once upon a time, in a time long gone.

Now they're both just as terrible and ill-fitted for his home.

He tries not to think of her, it’s too painful. So, he focuses on saving Merlin again. Merlin. His best friend, who he had always hoped would become something more. His rock, the only one he could trust. Something he has proved over and over again, but something he had realised only during his father's funeral.

Uther’s death is a recent memory. Arthur had cried until there were no tears left to shed over anyone else after. Not out of love or grievance. His father’s love for him was long gone before he himself was. But because the moment Uther’s life ended, Arthur’s reign began and the feeling of no support or companionship with it. Morgana was gone. Ygraine had never been there to begin with, and the overwhelming responsibility hit him- hard . He had felt so alone. There was no one there for him. No one cared.

Then Merlin had placed a hand on his shoulder, whispered to him, told him he was going to be a great king and that he was sorry. As if Merlin was at fault. As if he wasn't the only reason Arthur was still standing.

It made him see more clearly that he might not ruin the kingdom- his kingdom. A spark of heat, mixed with joy and sorrow ignited like wildfire spread all over his chest, then back, arms and legs followed soon, and finally his face; he returned Merlin’s sentiment with a warm smile.

Maybe that's when he had fallen in love, or when he had realized that Merlin was the only one he could trust. He's still not sure which one it was, maybe the love had come slowly, or maybe, and just the seed had been planted back then, or maybe it had come fact and crashing.

And now he was going to be gone too. Arthur sighs, his eyes drooping from a week of no sleep. Everyone leaves. They always leave. Maybe he still had some tears left.

The dark is disorienting. Is he sleeping? Is he even alive? He has to be, he has to make sure Arthur gets back home.

"Emrys," he hears someone say. No, not someone- Morgana. Her voice is unmistakable, ragged and sickly sweet at the same time. She had always been like that, even before, a dizzying array of opposites.

"Witch," he whispers. "Why have you brought me here?"

The smugness in her voice is apparent, "That's very hypocritical of you, isn't it? After all, you're magical too. More than me, even." She didn't answer his question. "All alone now, aren’t you? No one to save you." He shakes his head; how did he manage to get here? The last thing he was doing was shouting at Arthur to bring him along ("I always thought you were the bravest man I knew." “That’s not fair.") Arthur's face had been so disappointed, and it had broken Merlin's heart. But if the war was still going on, then no one would be coming for him. He will have to get out of this by himself.

"What. Do. You. Want." He grits out, he doesn't have the patience, nor the time for this, he has to help them. The knights are strong, but even the strongest of human kind wouln’t last long against an immortal army. He has to be there with them, to help them, to keep them alive. No matter how much his words hurt, Merlin will still save them, because that is what he does.

She laughs. " You."

"I don't have time for games, leave me be."- turning his head around trying to locate Morgana’s voice; the darkness, the nothingness, hasn’t changed.

"Oh, but why would I do that?" Her cold hands are taking hold of his chin, nails digging into his face. She's right in front of him. Her silky dress pooling onto his feet, the edges of her dirty hair grazing his arms. "I have you right where I want you, no one is going to come to save you. I only need one thing from you." She pauses, her fingers snap; there are fires surrounding them in a circle. He struggles against the bonds of rope he didn't realize were tied onto him, but it's of no use.

She’s clearer now, seen better days too. Bags under her crazed eyes, a ragged and torn black gown, a cloak is gracing her hunched back. Frankly, it looks like she hasn’t taken a bath in months. She doesn’t even resemble the Morgana he used to know, the compassionate and cunning one.

This is his creation; he is the reason she is like this. He never should have listened to the fucking dragon, he should have told her about his magic, maybe things would be different then.

"I won't do anything for you,” he hisses. “I would rather die.”

“Oh, you will.” She says it like it’s a fact as if it’s inevitable that he will die soon, and a tremor goes from his head to his toes in a matter of a second. He’s supposed to be immortal, supposed to live for a long, long time. He’s not scared of dying, he supposes. He’s scared of what will happen afterwards. “And it will hurt, I can tell you that, it will hurt so much.” She inches even closer, impossibly so. “But that won’t be the worst part, no. The worst part will be that no one will care . Arthur won’t care. No matter what you have done for him, he won’t even notice you’re gone.”

He’s silent as her words sink in. Sow themselves into his brain, into his heart, tries to convince himself it’s not true.

“Arthur won’t rescue you. You need his help, but he doesn’t have your back. He’s not even looking for you. If you’re drowning, if you’re about to crack, will he even care?” Something on his face makes her look smug like she’s already won. “Face it, Merlin.” That’s the first time she’s called him Merlin and not Emrys since she found out. “You don’t matter to him. He thinks you’re disposable, But I know better.”

Merlin looks up at her. "You're sick," he spits, although it sounds small, unsure. "He would look for me. I know he would." The statement is more for himself than her.

She gives a small, cruel smile as if to convey to him how pathetic he is. “All I need you to do,” she continues, “is to tell me where you are once this ends.”

He's about to ask her what she means, when the fires go out and it all turns dark again.

He stops in the forest, to rest, though he's not sure if Merlin will even survive by the end of it. He lays him down against a rock and lights a fire. He has to make something to feed them, or they'll die of starvation before Morgana's knights get to them. He surveys the clearing they're in, and he's about to walk towards what he is almost sure is an edible plant (emphasis on the almost, kings don't always learn about herbs), when he hears Merlin whispers. He snaps back, his eyes are open, a once tantalizing clear blue now murky and grey.

"Arthur" he murmurs. "Art- I-"

He holds up a hand "I'm here Merlin," he says. "I'm here but don't speak, you need to preserve your energy."

He doesn't listen. "I-I need to tell you something and," he gasps, trying to breathe, "and I need you to listen without interrupting."

Arthur wants to tell him whatever he needs to say probably isn't as important as his life, but the look on his face tells him that it might be.

Merlin shudders, clearly exhausted. "I ha-have magic," he rasps. Arthur's mind goes blank. It's a joke, it has to be. Merlin can't have betrayed him too. He takes a step toward him, to reach out maybe, but thinks better of it.

"Stop being silly," he commands, but it comes out shaky.

Merlin eyes seem wet. When he opens his mouth to speak, all that comes out is a bare whisper, "I ne-needed to tell you. In, in case, I-I, uh, die."

"You can't die." He clasps Merlin shoulder this time, leaning down. "But stop delusioning yourself Merlin. You don't have magic, I would know." It's not real, he would've been able to tell. This can't be true, it can't.

"And I use it for you," he continues, seeing his expression. "Only-only for you."

"Shut up," Arthur whispers. Merlin flinches back. "Shut up, shut up, shut up."

"I-," he starts, but he cuts him off.

"Do not speak to me."

Arthur looks at him, something rising in his throat. He thought it would be bile, but it's laughter. Of course, of course, the only person he trusts has magic.

He stands up and walks away, until he's sure Merlin won't be able to see him.

Merlin’s heart sinks as he stares at Arthur’s back, she was right. He told him about his magic, and now he was leaving him to die in a forest, never mind the reason he was dying was that he had taken a sword for Arthur. Never mind that he had spent a decade protecting him, trying to stop hundreds of people from killing someone he himself hadn’t particularly cared for at the beginning. Never mind the fact that he had sacrificed so much, just so he could be comfortable living in a castle built on the sins of his father and the corpses of magic users. Ten years, all down the drain. Merlin wants to laugh, of course, it comes done to this. To Arthur abandoning him because he told him something he didn’t want to hear. Fuck him, fuck the pendragons. Couldn’t let him die in peace.

He stews in it for a while, too tired to cry. Too sick of everything to even care anymore. He won’t tell her though; couldn’t let it all go to waste. She’ll find out anyway, he knows, she has her sources.

Yet, he has more important things to focus on, Arthur will either come back, or he won’t. But his wound stays. The giddiness is gone, replaced with something else. Something warm, like a fire in his stomach.

He presses down on his abdomen. as he sighs sharply through his nose, it helps with the increasing pain, stabbing his bone and overtaking his senses.

His lungs struggle to breathe, it feels as if they’re filling with water as he drowns; his whole body burns as his back arches and writhes. It’s like there’s thousands of needles being pushed into him from everywhere, as if the needles had been pulled out from a fire before being inserted into him- red hot and painful, so painful. He wants to stand up, to run and jump into a lake, but his legs feel like jelly, he can’t move. It hurts so much. He hears distant echoes of screams; they’re probably coming from him. And just like that, it starts to ebb. The needles being pulled out hurts more, but the small burns they leave behind are definitely better than it was before. He slumps down against a tree, numb.

He feels his eyes droop. His pain is still shooting through his body, but at least he has some time before he has to feel it again.

He wakes up again in some time, not sure when. It doesn't hurt as much as it did before. He’s just tired. He lays there for what feels like hours, but the sun hasn’t even set, so it was probably a few minutes.

To his immense surprise, he comes back. Arthur… comes back.

"Come back to finish the job, huh?" Merlin snarls, refusing to believe that maybe he came back to help him because he cared for him. It's too good to be true. Arthur is compassionate and he is kind, but not to magic users. "One stab wound wasn't enough for you?"

Arthur's already been saved from the imminent death of his which has been prophesied for a few centuries already, Merlin no longer has to worry, and he doesn't want to either. If this is his reward, to be called a coward, to be ignored and hut out, what everything had been leading up to, he might as well have died years ago. He used to wake up with only Arthur in mind, He loved him, still does. He’s not going to go out any other way.

He was the reason he lived, and he is the reason Merlin is going to die.

Arthur recoils in shock, his mouth is hanging open a little.

Good , Merlin thinks, he needs a wake-up call.

"What?" He asks.

Merlin hopes his expression can convey his feelings and how unamused he is because his throat is clogged up and he's too exhausted to say a word more. He may be a warlock, but it doesn’t change the fact that he is in unbearable pain.

Arthur looks at him as if he's grown a second head. "You- you thought I was going to kill you?"

There's no reply. Arthur comes forward, stops when he sees how scared the other man becomes. He sits down onto the cold, hard ground. "Merlin," he says softly, "I, I'm angry at you, I'm not going to lie, but I would never, never kill you. I- how could you even-" he trails off, he kicks some dirt glumly. "Just, we’ll talk about this when we're back home, okay? When you're better."

Arthur doesn't know how Merlin could think that. He would never- he didn’t even imagine doing anything other than demoting him, at most. He feels betrayed, and he feels let down. But this is Merlin. If he practiced magic, there must have been a good reason.

Fuck. Has he been that bad of a friend? Has he been so distant that Merlin thought Arthur was going to kill him? He knows he should be angrier, and just a few hours ago, he was. He was ready to yell and to scream and to rage, but then he thought of Morgana. About how he used to love her, and how she changed when he turned her away, He doesn’t want the same to happen to Merlin, doesn’t want him to change too. If Merlin dies because Arthur abandons him, he will never forgive himself.

So, as he snuffs out the fire and tries to cover up his tracks, because he knows Morgana will be looking for them, he doesn’t say anything. When he picks Merlin up and places him on the horse, he tries to be as gentle as he can. When he squeezes Merlin's hand in what he hopes is comforting, he just hopes Merlin doesn’t hate him completely.

Merlin floats in and out of consciousness for what he thinks is a day, but he can’t be sure. When he first wakes up, he’s trotting along on a horse, Arthur behind him, and then he’s in front of a fire, sitting on the ground, then the horse again. Once, he wakes up to strangled screams, but he’s not sure what was going on. He’s too scared to ask. The fifth time he wakes up, however, it’s different. It’s not a coincidence, it’s on purpose, Arthur is shaking him awake. He makes out that they are next to the lake, where he has sent away so many corpses already.

It's calm and serene, obvious to all that is happening around it.

“Wha-” he starts to say blearily, he knows they haven’t reached Camelot yet, so what is going on?

Arthur silences him by placing a hand on his mouth. “We’ve got company,” he whispers. Merlin stiffens up, never a good thing. Not when you’re trekking through the woods, your companion and you both in bad conditions, both starving, one run through with a sword. Not when your companion is the ruler of kingdom which has war being waged against it.

“Arthur,” he says, his voice still sounding heavy and drowsy.

“What?” His mouth feels swollen, and he is incredibly tired, but he can tell he’s agitated, so he doesn't beat around. “Use the sword."

He looks surprised, the expression he hates. The one he uses whenever he realises that he underestimates everyone around him. "I think I know how to use a sword better than you do, Mer lin."

Prat.

"I mean, don't use your old sword, use Excalibur. It can kill anything. " Saying even this much feels like he just ran from Ealdor to Camelot without break, but he manages.

He opens his mouth to reply, but then his eyes widen. "Did you hear that?" His voice is low but urgent. Merlin blinks, he didn't hear anything other than the wind and- oh, he hears it now. There's distant screaming, coming from a woman from what it sounds like. It's barely noticeable, but the sounds of footsteps and something heavy being dragged on the forest floor towards them is much, much louder.

They exchange glances, only for a second. Merlin gestures towards the sword and Arthur nods, not questioning him for once.

Merlin tries to speak, he wants to help, but his throat is becoming clogged, and his vision is becoming blurry and- I am not going to survive. He thinks, before his eyes roll back into his head, and he passes out once more.

Arthur does not dare to say anything, or to do anything, other than stay frozen in his spot, sword in hand.

The noises are coming closer and closer. The screams have subsided now, but the steps have not. He knows he should highball out of there, but he has a feeling that whatever is coming their way cannot be outrun, and 50% of his lessons in swordplay focuses only on telling him to follow his gut.

"Emrys," says a voice. He inhales sharply, he recognizes that voice; knows it better than he has any right too.

"Morgana," he breathes.

She pouts, looking disappointed. "Seems like our Emrys isn't awake. Shame, I wanted him to see you die." She says it casually, as if she tells her once-brother that she’s going to kill him every day.

He reminds himself - this is not his sister, not the woman he grew up with. If he doesn’t kill her, she will kill him. And she will take his kingdom.

But he never meant for them to get caught up in this, he had to control himself. He can’t rush to hug her or stab her. He can see a flicker of what she used to be, the brave, young woman. He needs her to hold onto that. If she doesn’t, he will have to do it. And he really, really doesn’t want to.

But as she lunges at him, the flicker ebbs out. She has slipped through his hands, and she has changed. She has been carried away by the waves of sorcery, and it has ruined her. He remembers her being his hero when they were young, when they used to sneak out of the castle to look at the stars. Her arguing with Uther over whether it was right to commit genocide, the irony of which has stuck with him. Her teaching him to use the sword, having already mastered it herself. Her forcing him to make friends with Gwen, who grew to become his ex-lover and best friend and surrogate queen. The memories keep on coming, and they don't stop. But she, like everyone else, changed. No matter what time, she is different now. It will never come back. He wants to go back, when they were innocent and naive, when everything was left for them to discover.

But he can’t.

So he fights back instead.

It's all he can do to make his hands steady as his blade sinks into her stomach, as he buries it deeper and deeper until it comes out on the other side. She looks surprised, then grim. She'll be alive for a few days, at most, a few minutes, at best.

But he can't bear to leave her suffering, alive but dying, tortured. So, he stabs her again, this time aiming for the heart, and again. And again. And again. When he is sure that she's dead, he stops, sliding onto his knees. He glares at the sword in contempt. He killed her; he killed his sister.

No .

He killed the woman who wanted to burn his kingdom to the ground. He had no other choice.

But what sort of person is he? He's killed both his knight and his former sister on the same day, with the same sword.

He grips it harder, then looks at the lake. He needs to get rid of it, that's what he needs to do. No one can find out what happened today, he can't let them. He raises it and throws it in. He had thought it would land on the banks, considering how heavy it is, but it doesn't. Instead, the sword flies out of his grip, and cuts through the air, towards the lake. He swears he can see a hand reaching out of the water to catch it, but it's probably a trick of the light.

He turns to her body laid on the ground, eyes open and unblinking, mouth looking as if gasping for breath, cloak sprawled around her like wings. She's dead.

Somehow, he knows if he had used the other sword, she would not be; he knows enough about magic to realise that the high priestess cannot be taken down by a normal weapon.

But Excalibur was not normal, was it? Just another thing to add to his list of questions.

It takes him thirty more minutes to dispose of her body in the lake, staring as it sinks deeper into the water. He doesn't look away, no. He deserves this. He has to remember, and he will.

He doesn't move for a long, long time. Only goes so when he realizes that, although she is dead, Merlin is not yet. Arthur intends to keep it that way. He turns his back on her. Every step drains him, but he does it.

He can't be left alone again.

It takes them two more days to arrive in Camelot. All of it passes in awkward silence, with Merlin getting paler and paler with every passing second. Arthur doesn’t say anything out loud, but his mind is racing. He doesn’t think of them. He can’t. So he focuses on magic instead. He’s not sure if he trusts magic fully, even now, but maybe he should be more open-minded. Maybe he should give it a chance. Maybe it'll be different than it was with Morga- her.

When he arrives, it is completely different to what he had expected. There are mourners, of course. People in white, downcast expressions, closed windows, doors painted black. But there are also red banners hanging everywhere, citizens cheering as he rides past, ignoring Merlin behind him. Cries of "she is dead" and "the war is over". People are grieving, and there are those celebrating. He doesn't ask how they know of her death, he doesn't want to know. They tell him anyway. Apparently, the army stopped attacking, all of a sudden. They had cried, and shouted, and had turned back. It is unclear why, but Arthur knows he is the reason. Morgana dying at his hands is the reason.

Some help him get to Gaius', seeing how unamused he looks. They clear out the road, offer them water. Arthur is grateful for them, glad that at least some of his people acknowledged the dying man and had tried to help.

The physician is busy when he throws the door open, Merlin in tow. There are many, many people here. All with varying degrees of injuries. Arthur can’t bear to look at them. It’s his fault. It’s all his fault. So he ignores them, marches up to him.

“He’s- he’s been stabbed,” he chokes out.

Gaius’ eyes widen, and he rushes to follow Arthur. He lays Merlin out on one of the few empty beds, his body sprawls out on it. It’s sickening to look at as if he’s dead already.

He sets to work immediately, ordering Arthur to fetch herbs and vials and all sorts of things he doesn’t know the uses of. The people around them stare at him blankly, as if they know he’s the king, but they don’t fully recognise him.

He knows when he is not needed anymore, and backs away to watch. It's odd, and it feels so wrong. It's wrong to watch as Merlin is cut open and healed. Like he's invading his privacy. Merlin deserves better than to be put on a show in front of so many people.

He does try to help. Tries to tell as many people as he can to move to the castle, where he is sure more doctors would be willing to help, but some are in too bad of a condition to be moved as they are tended to by nurses. So he elects to focus on his friend instead.

Gaius' hands have always been steady, for as long had Arthur had known him. He cuts open bodies without worry, without even flinching. Which is not the case today, he notices. No, his hands are shaking. Not much as to be obvious, but he's known the man for far too long to not be able to tell when he's scared.

He thinks Merlin is going to die .

Arthur recoils violently. He doesn't know where the thought came from, because it's not true. It can’t be.

Merlin is going to survive. He tells himself.

Merlin. Is. Going. To. Survive.

Merlinisgoingtosurvive

MerlinisgoingtosurviveMerlinisgoingtosurvuveMerlinisgoingtosurvive

He repeats under his breath, rocking himself back and forth on his heels until he almost believes it. He has to.

He's not sure where the time has passed, because Gaius is in front of him all of a sudden but Arthur remembers him standing over the table just seconds ago.

Gaius shakes his head and it takes a few minutes for it to register in his mind. Arthur can't be looking at him, and his heartbreaking face. Just like him, Gaius' only support was Merlin. Was. Not is, was. Merlin is barely dead, and Arthur is already starting to think of him as a memory.

The physician knows what it feels like, but Arthur doesn't care.

"You should've done better," he hisses. He doesn't regret it. Doesn’t regret causing the shock he’s caused Gaius. But it's his fault too. He's the one Merlin took a sword for. But he needs to blame someone else. Because he doesn't want to think of the implications of Merlin dying at his hands. Gaius looks at him as if he is about to break, so Arthur walks away. From him, towards the corpse. He can't bear to face another person he's hurt.

It can't be true. There's got to be something he can do, something. He can't die, he can’t fucking die. Not when there's not much left to say. Not when they've just won. It's supposed to be a thing to celebrate, a war ending, he can't mourn. He can't give a speech to his kingdom which wasn't written by his best friend. Can't lose him. He doesn't think he'll be able to live without him.

He doesn't want to. He won't.

Merlin looks too much at peace, content in a way Arthur hasn't seen him in a long time. His long lashes casting shadows onto his freckled skin, his lips are twisted into a scowl, but he is at peace. He still looks the same, though. Beautiful and striking. Arthur's rock.

And dead.

Arthur’s hands move at their own accord, to stroke the side of his face. A sob escapes him before he can stop it, pushing through his throat. His people need assurance, and him crying like a bloody fool won't help. But that's the last thing on his mind. All he knows is Merlin is dead.

He isn’t able to stop staring, can't help wondering what he will do now. Whether the body will be burned or buried. He will be given a hero's funeral, it's no less than he deserves. He will be clothed in Camelot’s colours, or maybe his Ealdor's. Hunith would know better.

Oh lord, Hunith. She will have to find out through a letter. No. Arthur will have to go to tell her. He can't let her go through it alone.

He's about to turn away, to tell someone to help him move the body when his lips move.

Merlin's mouth opens, just a little bit, but enough to tell that he's alive.

Arthur feels a shock go through him. It was just an illusion.

Right?

"Merlin?" he asks. It can't be true, no matter how much he wants it to be. It was probably a trick of the light, but that can't be right. Because Merlin's eyes are opening and he's staring at him and some colour is returning to his cheeks and oh-

This the man he loves. And he waking up.

"Ar- Arth," he begins but Arthur shushes him. He’s alive, he’s speaking. He doesn’t know how, but it’s real. It’s actually real.

"I'm here," he assures him "I'm here." He shocks even himself as he leans down to kiss him. He's even more surprised when Merlin kisses him back. It only lasts a second before he pulls back, but he just kissed Merlin. It was rough, it wasn't perfect. But he's breathing. They're both here. He can't ask for more.

"Wha- what was," he exhales through his nose, as if speaking taxes him, "that for?"

"I wanted to," he says, shrugging, still not over the euphoria. He just lost him, he’s never going to again. The least he can do is not hide from the truth. "And, I, I also kind of love you. Like, I’m in love with you."

His eyes widen a fraction, but Arthur can tell he’s too tired to question it further.

He wants to say more, he has so many questions as to how he's still breathing, when he started practicing magic, why, but he doesn’t. He has time, they have all the time in the world.

He turns his back, yelling for Gaius. The physician shows up immediately, face lighting up when he takes in the sight of his son very much not-dead.

"We'll figure it out," he says, though he's not sure he heard him over the noise. "We'll figure it out." He grins. Yeah, they'll figure it out.

He swears, Merlin is beaming right back at him.

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ijustwant2write · 4 years

Text

Sister’s Secret-Merlin x Pendragon!Magic!Reader

(GIF credit to @harritudur)

Requested by @cokecola4211: ‘Merlin imagine being Arthur's younger sister and having magic and always a struggle to hide it from your brother and even Morgana.’

Characters: Merlin x Pendragon!Magic!Reader, Arthur Pendragon x Pendragon!Magic!Reader (siblings), Morgana x Pendragon!Magic!Reader (platonic)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Violence, fighting

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“I don’t think I should attend the tournament today, I don’t feel too well.” I mumbled to Morgana, placing a hand over my stomach for effect.

“You won’t be getting out of this one (Y/N).” she sadly smiled at me, linking her arm through mine.“Be a part of the sportsmanship.”

“Sometimes I really don’t like being a princess.”

She scoffed.“Oh the horror.”

I giggled.“Not like that. I just really don’t want to go today.”

“We shall be sat together. We can talk throughout the whole thing and annoy Uther to no end.”

“Yes, my father will comment on our un-ladylike behaviour.”

“And we will watch your brother show of his amazing fighting skills, what a thrilling afternoon.”

We walked with the guards who were escorting us to the tournament, still chatting away. Morgana made me feel slightly better, though I could still feel nerves. I had tried to avoid every public event I could, though father was having none of it. I had got away with it the first few times, but then father became worried; once Gaius was called in, he knew I was faking it. I lied, putting it down to nerves now that I was coming of age to take on more responsibilities as a princess. Father had strict words with me, saying that I needed to face these head on, take a page out of Arthur’s book.

Arthur and I didn’t butt heads like he and Morgana did, though it was hard to put up with him when he got so much praise for being a prince; but I loved my brother dearly, he was a brave man.

However, I wasn’t feeling part of the family anymore. Something mysterious was happening to me, something I couldn’t control or tell anyone. I found myself controlling things without realising, items would float or be thrown across the room. It happened out of the blue, and I was extremely lucky to be by myself when I discovered what I had; magic. Why I possessed this power was unknown, and how did I have these powers when no one else in my family did? I kept this secret for months now, it had been difficult to hide at times, too many times there had been where I was almost caught. What would people think of their princess having magic? Especially since their king was so harsh on the law?

I remembered back to when I was a child, playing with Arthur and Morgana. We were stuck inside, rain pouring from the skies since the evening, and it had no sign of stopping throughout the day. Morgana and I were playing with our dolls castle, dressing up the dolls in beautiful gowns that we wished we could wear. Arthur wouldn't sit still, swinging around the wooden sword father had gifted him. He purposefully came too close to us, making us flinch and whine everytime we thought he was going to hit us.

"Arthur! Stop it or I'm going to call nanny!" I threatened, pouting my lips.

He continued his actions."You two are boring. You should play knights with me instead of those stupid dolls!"

Morgana gasped."Arthur!"

I stomped my foot."They aren't stupid!"

"Yes they are."

My fists were clenched, and I found myself storming towards him, about to shove him back, but he had already been thrown to the floor. He cried out as I halted, confused as to how he had fallen over when I hadn't even touched him.

"Princess!" Nanny had run into the room, attending to Arthur."You can't go around pushing people, especially your brother. You must remember your lessons as a lady."

"But nanny, (Y/N) didn't push him!" Morgana defended me.

"Morgana, we don't tell lies either."

"I didn't push him!" I screamed at the top of my tiny lungs, thunder and lightning violently cracking outside, causing us all to jump.

The noise silenced everyone, the light rain now coming down harsher. Nanny huffed, getting Arthur on his feet and brushing him down. Why was she ignoring me? Why didn't she believe me? Even Morgana was telling her the truth, and Morgana hardly said anything. I could feel the anger building up inside me, I felt hot, my hands were shaking; my vision was blurry, I couldn't focus on anything. As I went to step towards them, my knees buckled, but it went black before I even hit the floor. That was the last time I remembered my powers before they returned.

“Ah, (Y/N), you have decided to join us.” father smiled, though his tone held some sarcasm.

“Yes father,” I hugged him,“shouldn’t miss Arthur’s sparring after all the training he put himself through.”

“Indeed.”

Rolling my eyes at Morgana, we broke the hug, and he greeted her next. Following my father up the steps to our viewing box, the people of Camelot cheered once they spotted us, being silenced by a wave of my father's hand. He announced the beginning of the event, the knights filing out to the arena, crowds cheering once again. I clapped, smiling as I spotted Arthur; why men wanted to fight each other as a form of sport was unknown to me. Some knights I knew of were chivalrous, brave, others just used the title to boost their ego.

One of them was huge. He had darker armour on than the usual silver. He towered above the rest, his body wider in muscle. Whoever trained him had obviously wanted him to be a fighting machine. He made me nervous. Arthur was a skilled fighter, but sometimes strength overcame that.

Normally I wouldn't pay much attention throughout the whole tournament, but this new knight had my full attention. He had taken out man after man, and my brother was next to face him.

"Something doesn't feel right." I mumbled to Morgana.

She nodded."He's taken out every knight. Most of them have had to be carried off the field. Why isn't anyone stopping this?"

"Pride." I turned my head to my father."Surely we should stop this? Arthur is going to get hurt."

My father's expression did not change, masking his true feelings."I cannot pull Arthur out of the tournament, how would that look to the other Lords and knights attending?"

"But he's your son! You would rather keep your pride than to save him from getting hurt?"

"We both know that even if I wanted to stop him, he would still go in and fight."

I sighed, leaning back in my chair."Like father like son."

Anticipation grew as the men readied themselves for the final battle. The opponent walked out first, receiving some praise, whereas once Arthur appeared, the roars were so loud, they could probably be heard in the next kingdom. Although I tried to keep my composure as I clapped for him, I found my eyes never tearing away from his form, praying that no harm would come to him. It all seemed to happen too quickly. They began their fight, clashes of swords and shields ringing out as the people yelled, supporting their future King. My heart thumped in my chest, hands clutching to my chair, all of my muscles tensing. Out of the blue, Arthur was pushed to the floor, images of us as children flashed into my mind.

Everyone gasped, whereas I heard the splintering of wood. Looking down at my left hand, I realised that I had broken the arm of the chair. No, not now, not in front of all these people; not this close to my family.

Arthur was on his back crawling away from his opponent. I was on the edge of my seat as the sword was raised, all of sudden striking down on Arthur. Luckily, he swiftly rolled out of the way, stumbling to his feet. However, as Arthur quickly picked up his sword to fight again, we were all entranced by his fighters weapon. It was stuck in the ground, but as he grabbed it again, it snapped in half. Arthur took this opportunity of surprise to attack, taking him down. As chivalrous as ever, Arthur showed mercy. But I couldn't stay here any longer, I felt an overwhelming surge of energy in me, and if I didn't get away soon, I didn't know how much I could hide.

Leaping from my chair, I hurried away, ignoring the calls of my father and Morgana. The guards were quick to follow, though once away from the arena and near the castle, I commanded they leave me alone. There were plenty of places to hide in the castle, I just needed to find somewhere quick. As I ran down the halls, my breathing was erratic, vision blurry once again. I stumbled into a wall, crumbling the stone with just my hand. I stopped, leaning beside it before sinking to the floor. How could I feel tired, yet harness all this power? My hands started to shake, there was nothing to stop it; shutting my eyes, I focused all of my mind on my hands, willing this all to stop. It had to stop. Someone would come by soon, someone would see what I had done, then they would tell my father, and he would have no choice but to send me to the-

"Princess?" Merlin's voice scared me.

My eyes shot open, gasping as I saw him kneeling in front of me.

"What are you doing on the floor? Are you hurt?"

I furiously shook my head, wanting to get up though I couldn't find the strength. His eyes glanced down at my shaking hands, slowly taking them in his.

"Don't touch me!" I snapped."Please don't, just leave me!"

"Your highness," his voice was a whisper now, "I need you to trust me."

All I could do was watch as he held my hands firmer, staring at them. A cooling sensation flooded my skin, the intense energy I was feeling dying down. Shakily breathing, I caught his eyes flash to a gorgeous golden, amber colour. No, he couldn't be. My brother's manservant possessed magic?!

"Come to the infirmiry with me, we have much to speak about." he quietly said, helping me to my feet.

Willingly following him, he sat me down at the table in Gaius' chambers, kneeling in front of me. If I wasn't confused before, I certainly was now, a headache forming.

"You've had these powers for a while now, haven't you?" he calmly asked.

"Merlin, I-"

"You can trust me. You've just seen what I can do."

"Yes. But they've only just come back. I don't understand why."

"Magic has its own rules, unfortunately for some."

"Merlin, why are you working in the castle when you could easily be spotted? Someone could report you!"

Realisation flashed over his face."Y-you aren't going to say anything, are you?"

"Of course not! What sort of hypocrite would I be if I told of your powers when I possess my own? Though...looking back on my father's tales of how evil magic is, it just confuses me."

"Not all magic is bad. There is good that lies behind it, as long as it's in the right hands."

"But why me?"

"Why anyone?"

"You are starting to sound like Gaius more and more."

We both smiled."Was it you that broke the wall?"

"Yes. I broke the chair back in the arena too."

"You need to learn to harness your power."

"You could teach me!"

"W-well-"

"Merlin, how am I, the princess of Camelot, supposed to hide something like this without training?"

"When would I do that? You've seen how Arthur works me to death."

"Hm, my brother is a dollop head about that sort of thing."

Merlin raised an eyebrow at me, chuckling.

"I've heard you call him that, I like it."

We laughed until the door opening interrupted. My father stormed in, Gaius and Arthur close behind.

"What happened?" Father exclaimed.

"Merlin, you left me to take off my own armour!" Arthur seethed.

Merlin stumbled with his words, standing up as he tried to come up with a lie.

"I told you earlier that I shouldn't have come today. Just seeing Arthur almost get hurt sent me over the edge." I sighed."I'm sorry that I ran off like that, but I didn't want to draw away any attention from your victory Arthur. And Merlin was the one who found me."

Arthur smiled."Your health is far more important than any victory of mine."

"I'm sorry I didn't listen to you before." Father started."Gaius, give her a full examination. Make sure she is alright. I shall stay with you."

"No father, you should go to the Lords and knights, it will be improper to keep them waiting."

"If you are sure."

"Of course. You will be the first to know if anything ails me."

He kissed my forehead before leaving with Arthur. Arthur squeezed my hand, following Father. My tense shoulders relaxed as they closed the door, looking to Merlin and Gaius.

"Your highness, what hap-"

"She has magic Gaius." Merlin interrupted.

"Merlin!" I snapped.

"It's alright, he knows."

"Oh, Merlin." Gaius sighed."You do seem to attract trouble, don't you?"

I pouted."Are you stating that I am trouble?"

"Apologies your highness. I am assuming Merlin has offered his help already?"

"Well, I sort of asked him myself."

"You do realise how dangerous this is, don't you your highness?"

"Yes. But I have no other choice."

"Gaius, I can help her. I have too." Merlin said.

"Well, I don't think I can really stop either of you, can I?"

We both shook our heads.

"We will do all we can to help you princess, just know, that it won't be an easy journey. You are bordering on treason of your kingdom."

"I understand. I will do anything to control this power. And who knows, maybe in the future, I will be able to convince my father that not all magic is evil."

#merlin #merlin imagine #merlin imagines #merlin one shot #merlin x reader #bbc merlin #merlin bbc #arthur pendragon #arthur pendragon imagine #morgana #morgana imagine

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viltrumitesuperboy · 4 years

Text

I Couldn’t Love You (Merlin x Male Reader)

Someone wanted hanahaki disease with Merlin so here you go merry crisis. Merlin has it. Tried something different with this one.

Word count: 2928

I couldn't love you because you were my friend.

Merlin had never been one to let his emotions get to him, or so he hoped. When Arthur told him he was sensitive, he denied it. He then noticed how different of a person he was compared to every other man in the castle and realised that, yes, he was an emotional man. Arthur never really minded (just teased him), and Gaius told him that it was a good thing for a sorcerer like him. It made him different from those who used their magic to hurt.

You were a servant for Knight Leon, so Merlin saw you sometimes. Arthur had to take a few knights with him on a trip, and told Merlin to stay for once. As they rode off, you moved closer to Merlin.

"What's Prince Arthur like? I'll tell you that Sir Leon is a bit daft and definitely stupid but that's because he can read and chooses not to."

"To put it bluntly, Arthur's a prat. I will serve him for as long as I live but he is seriously an idiot."

You laughed and turned to look at Merlin.

"May I join you while they're gone? I don't really have much to do when Leon isn't around."

He smiled and beckoned for you to follow him to the side door where Gaius was working on some medicine. He told you that you could choose any book to read, and a strange looking one caught your eye. You pulled it from the shelf and began reading it.

"Hey, this is about magic. Is this allowed?" you asked Gaius.

Merlin rushed to his side and looked as if he was about to spit out some excuse, but Gaius gave him a stern look.

"As you know, Uther's law against magic has led to dozens of problems from magic users. I keep books in case another magic-related incident happens," Gaius explained smoothly.

"Of course. It's unfair, isn't it? That he's so against magic. Most of the people I know don't even care about what magic users do because most of them aren't actively trying to hurt anyone else. Since the king is against it, sorcerers come out of hiding to try and hurt him. It's obvious, but he doesn't realise it," you nonchalantly replied, then looked down to read the book in silence.

Merlin looked at Gaius with shock on his face, but the reaction was not returned. On Gaius' lips was a small grin, and he turned away to continue his work. Merlin looked back at you, where you had been flipping randomly in the book in interest of all the knowledge you could get. He pulled out another book, covering his spellbook in his lap with it. Occasionally you would show Gaius a word and ask what it meant, since you never had many chances to read. He explained it so easily and your smile showed your gratitude every time.

When he looked up at you and smiled, you smiled back. His heart fluttered.

I couldn't love you because I loved someone else.

Freya was the first magic user Merlin had met his age who he could connect to, and he wanted to protect her as long as she was in Camelot. When he started to sneak food, you weren't dumb enough to know that he was hiding things in that scarf of his. You yanked him to the side of a corridor.

"What's with the food? If you wanted to steal something, you could always ask me, you know?"

You waved him to follow you to the kitchens, but he stopped before you entered.

"Wait! I'll get in trouble. They don't like when I cause problems for them in there," Merlin mumbled.

"Trust me," you said.

He followed you into the kitchen, and you grabbed two entire trays — one of bread and one with meat.

"Just bringing these to the knights!" you shouted.

In their commotion of cooking, the cooks shouted back their approval and you walked right out with the bread in a basket and the meat in a bowl.

"Here, take some of each. I'll bring these to the knights. Go do whatever it is you have to."

Merlin thanked you and hid the bread and meat in a separate basket, wrapped in a cloth you'd taken from the kitchen. He smiled and rushed away, with you carrying out your duties. On the way, he started to cough, and covered his mouth with his scarf. For a second, he thought something fell out of his mouth, and he panicked when he thought his magic was acting up. The breeze blew the object up and into the forest, and he rushed towards Freya's hiding place.

He trusted you enough, so when Freya died, he came to you and Gaius with bloodshot eyes. You helped him take her body to the lake deep in the forest. He threw a stick with fire into the boat, bursting it into flames. For a second, you wondered where the fire had come from and if it had even reached the boat (Merlin had the upper body strength of a small bird), but when you saw the tears on his face, you put your arm around him. You rubbed his back as he began coughing, and when he pulled away from you, a small blue flower lay in his hands.

"Did you forget to put that one in?" you asked. "You can place it on the water. I'm sure she'd appreciate it."

He hiccuped and tossed it on the water, and you both watched it float away. The look of shock on his face remained even as you both walked away, and you wondered just how much Freya meant to him.

I couldn't love you because I had a destiny.

Morgana had managed to get Guinevere accused of sorcery. Of course Merlin had to fix the problem as he always did, and risked looking like a complete loon in the aftermath. Gaius gave him an idea, and he followed through. But when he said the spell to change himself back, it wasn't working. He was hobbling around the castle in an old man's body, wondering what the hell his life had come to.

Once he bumped into you, and you yelled, almost falling backwards. Your eyes narrowed at the sight of his bright blue ones.

"Do I know you?" you asked. "I mean, I don't think I've seen you before here, but something about your eyes..."

"Goodbye," said Merlin in his old man voice, and he rushed away.

When the guards started to draw closer, he stepped into a small hallway, repeating the spell once more to no avail. Then you stepped out of a door in the hallway, a basket of clothing in your arms and a small vial in hand.

"Come on, take it. I ran to Gaius and he told me that it was you. I'll take your clothing so it doesn't look suspicious," you quickly explained.

He downed the potion quickly, pulling off the robe as soon as he did. You handed him the scarf he always wore. You both stepped into the main hallway just as the guards and Arthur caught up to you.

"Have you seen the sorcerer?" Arthur panted.

"There's a sorcerer?" you asked, alarmed. "Well, that's illegal, isn't it?"

"Yes, that's why we're- Look, he's old, he can't have gone far and he definitely went through this path," Arthur exclaimed.

"We haven't seen anyone. Merlin's been helping me with the washing."

Arthur huffed and motioned for the guards to follow him as they continued on their search.

"You really saved me there," Merlin laughed breathlessly.

"Well, you are the sorcerer meant to protect the once and future king, aren't you?" you teased, pulling him through the door in the hallway. "You should tell me more. No one's doing the washing right now except for me."

Merlin smiled, following you with a strange pressure on his chest. He began to cough, as he had been in the last few weeks. A flower dropped into his scarf, which he dumbly decided to cough into. The blood could barely be hidden by the scarf, but up close he could see that the scarf was a little wet. He bunched it up quickly when you turned to look at him.

"That's your own. You wash that," you scolded. "And then go to Gaius to do something about that cough. You've had it for a few days now."

He gave you a faint smile and nodded as he placed it into a bucket, vanishing the flower with his magic. He then turned to you and told you all about his adventures as much as he could, your expressions of awe and excitement driving his storytelling. Being the showoff he was, he used his magic to dump all the clothing in your bucket into the large tub. The smile on your face was worth it.

True to his word, he went to see Gaius, who wasn't there at the moment. He skimmed through endless books for flowers, but nothing came up until he realised what he had been doing wrong. He began to look at the books on magic that Gaius kept hidden. When he came across the one you were reading the first time you read a book there, he finally found it. It was a disease that was so rare it was believed to be a myth. The person with the disease would cough up blood and flowers if they were in love with someone and the love was not returned. Unless they returned the feelings or it was removed by magic, the victim would surely die. The same would result if they waited too long.

Merlin knew that there was no way he could tell you, but he needed to be alive to serve Arthur. He had a destiny, and the threat of death would not stop him from fulfilling it.

I couldn't love you because it was wrong.

The number of sorcerers and criminals that the king executed was significantly higher than the people found in same sex relations. Actually, there were no executed homosexuals. Uther would claim that they were under the influence of dark magic and therefore had to be killed before it spread. Fortunately, Arthur did not adopt that mindset. Unfortunately, he still thought it to be wrong. Merlin tended to ramble to Arthur and Gaius about his problems, but he told nobody about you. Gaius only knew that he was in love and that it may kill him, but was prepared to perform the spell if he needed to, as Merlin instructed him to. His destiny came before love.

Merlin's condition worsened over time, and he started to slow in his tasks. Arthur masked his concern with complaints, telling him to see Gaius. Gwen would berate Arthur for picking on his own friend. She gave Merlin sympathetic smiles when she caught him coughing or holding a piece of cloth to his mouth. The flowers increased in number, going from one every week to multiple every day. He had to keep a bucket by his bed.

"Merlin, this isn't good for you," Gaius had told him one day.

He sat on the chair beside Merlin's bed.

"There is always a solution. You will not die if you are rejected, but if you wait, it will kill you either way. Take a chance."

"I couldn't. It's... It's wrong, Gaius," Merlin croaked out. "The one I love is a man."

"And who says it should be wrong? A few others with this disease have died because they were afraid it was wrong. One of the most tragic tales came from two women who loved each other dearly, and both died of the same disease. This is hurting me as much as it hurts you. I have a feeling I know this man you speak of, and I think he feels the same. There is no one more worthy of his love than you, and no one more worthy of your love than he."

With that, Gaius tapped his leg as if to drill the wisdom into Merlin, and stood slowly to leave. Seconds after he had gone back to brewing something, you had burst through the door, shouting a quick greeting to Gaius and dashing to the bookshelves.

"(Y/N)! Be careful!" Gaius exclaimed.

"Sorry, busy!" Merlin heard you say.

You pulled a book out of the shelf and dashed to Merlin's room. You sat in the chair Gaius was just in moments ago and flipped through the pages. It was the same book you had chosen the first time.

"I was thinking I remembered that flower I saw from you over the last few weeks. At first, I thought you were planning to give them to someone, but I remembered seeing one in your hand at the lake. It's a disease!" you said with enthusiasm.

"I know," Merlin said, "and I will die."

Gaius was back again, standing just outside the door frame. You looked at him sadly as you placed the book down, the pages falling open to the wretched flower.

"Can't you do anything? Any magic that wouldn't remove your feelings or memories?"

"No. This ends in one of three ways," Gaius said.

"I don't intend to tell anyone except for Gaius about my condition, and I can't- don't want to die," Merlin caught himself, then turned the other way to choke out a flower into the bucket next to him.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, leaning over to place your hand on his.

"I'm sorry, too."

Merlin was quite literally on his deathbed. He once nearly died on the same bed he was in currently. He had collapsed onto the closest surface after doing some cleaning in Arthur's and Gwen's room, and it just so happened to be the one Gaius used to treat patients. He grabbed his bucket that he had conveniently brought down from his room to clean earlier that day and coughed into it painfully.

Flower petals and blood. That was all he could think about these days.

Gaius walked in, placing his herbs down and going about his work until he noticed Merlin on the bed.

"Merlin!" Gaius exclaimed.

"Gaius, please get him," Merlin whispered.

Gaius gave him a disapproving look and walked over, pulling the sheets on top of Merlin. He took the book he needed and placed it on the table close to Merlin's head. Then he left without another word. In minutes, you, Arthur, and Gwen all ran inside, with Gaius' voice in the distance telling them not to disturb anything.

"Merlin!" you shouted, running over to him and kneeling by his bed. "You're dying, aren't you?"

"Am I spitting blood or what?" he snarkily replied, and promptly lurched over the bucket.

"Stop it! You know this hurts all of us!" Gwen cried.

Arthur put his arms around her in a hug as she leaned into him, tears beginning to collect in her eyes.

"Merlin, if we can find the person you love, you can tell them. If they reject you, then there's that thing Gaius can do, right? Some herbal paste thing?" Arthur asked desperately.

"Yes, that," Gaius mumbled.

He looked to you, and you nodded, a silent sign that you had lied to keep them safe.

"Thank you for... everything," Merlin said, his eyes trained on you. "You're all my best friends and I'm so lucky to have you all, but I think I have to get those... herbs that Arthur mentioned."

"It's obvious, isn't it?" Gwen whispered. "You love... him."

Her head turned fully to you, as did Arthur's.

"If he's not complaining about me, he's talking about you," Arthur added.

He didn't dare look at you, afraid to see the hate or disgust on your face. He choked once again on a sudden attack of flowers from his mouth, and you instantly reached over to rub his back.

"You're so stupid. You're so, so stupid," you whispered. "I should have known, should have said something earlier."

"What are you talking about?" Merlin rasped.

"I'm saying I love you too, you daft clotpole."

"That's my insult."

You took the cloth Gaius offered you and wiped his face, pressing your lips to his forehead.

"You're really so stupid."

Merlin smiled back, and he felt the weight that he hadn't even noticed on his insides removing themselves, like the curse was being physically lifted from his body. And as he thought that, a light left his body and the bucket, anywhere with flowers or blood, and disappeared into the air.

"I think that worked," he said, voice much stronger.

Everyone else gave a cheer of joy, and Gwen kissed Arthur right on the lips. Obviously he whined right after that they should only be doing that in private.

"Merlin will need his rest. (Y/N) can stay but the two of you will have to leave. I'm sure you both have matters to discuss. The love of two men, correct?"

"You're right, Gaius," Arthur smiled.

"Maybe you could look into that magic issue too, while you're at it. It could have saved Merlin," you suggested.

"As if!" Arthur scoffed.

Gwen hit his chest and they both left after hugging Merlin. Merlin turned back to you, and he barely noticed Gaius leaving to his room.

"That's some curse," he laughed, bringing you close. "But never steal my insults again."

I couldn't love you... or maybe I could.

#x male reader #merlin x male reader #merlin x reader #bbc merlin x male reader #bbc merlin x reader #merlin imagine #male reader #bbc merlin #merlin

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make-me-imagine · 3 years

Note

Hey! Thank you so much for doing these for everyone omg. Don’t exhaust yourself! I’d prefer a male character from the MCU and MASH or Merlin (whichever of those two is easier!!), if you’re okay with that. For headcanons, I'd like "the moment they realized they loved you" and "how you met/first impression". I'm a history major. I've previously done physics and computer science, but I think analyzing history has been a lot more fulfilling. I'm a lot more open and friendlier than I used to be, but it's definitely hard to get super close to people. I love people but I'm honestly fine with not talking to people everyday. I don't think it deteriorates friendships to have space. Right now, I’ve been cleaning and modernizing old phones to better blend these past artifacts and make them present-day points of life. (Kind of a combination of my CS and history backgrounds I guess.) I’d also like to pick back up on sewing and crocheting again. I come from a place surrounded by factories and witnessed as a kid how easily rich people and politicians can get away with cutting corners and sacrificing our lives to make a profit, so I’ve been interested in writing about workers rights and labor history. My grandfather was the secretary of his union while working at one of these factories, and I take that as a big inspiration. I’m a prison abolitionist and anti-war, and while I do talk about these topics, I’m still looking for a better way to work towards using my life to combat injustices like these. I’m never sure that anything is enough, but that’s okay as long as I don’t give up. I grew up poor and sick, and it wasn't easy, but my parents made a lot of sacrifices for me and my brother. They also always speak out when they see something wrong, and I appreciate that in them. I've definitely been told my facial expressions are super expressive even without me saying anything lol. I used to have a lot of anger issues as a kid, but I’ve learnt to make peace with my anger since then, so that I can work it to guide me without controlling me. I’m not perfect, and I don’t always trust my judgment because I'm human, but I try to help people wherever I can. As for personal relationships, I do really like my friends, even if I only see them once or twice a month. I’ve had romantic relationships, but I don’t really care for casual dating. I feel like a friendship has to come first as a basis for anything else. Again, thank you so much, and totally get some rest and relaxation! :) -🏗

Thank you! I appreciate it, and you too! You sound like an amazing person and I wish you the best in your life <3

MCU:

I ship you with Sam.

(I also thought about Clint and Steve). But I think Sam would appreciate you so much and would love you so deeply. He is a big advocate for being friends first before dating. He also support your fight for justice and rights and would stand by your side through all of it.

How you met/first impression:

You met through Natasha.

And it was definitely on purpose, even though she played it of like it wasn’t.

But she thought that you two would really get along and she honestly thought that you were perfect for one another.

So, she made sure that the two of you would “bump into” Sam.

He thought you were attractive immediately, and thought it was kind of cute how you were shy at first.

After talking for a short time, he could tell you had a lot in common.

He definitely thought there was more too you and it made him curious about you.

Causing him to ask about you from Natasha later on.

She gave him your number.

The moment he realized he loved you:

It wasn’t that long after you started dating.

I mean, he knew that he had strong feelings for you, that was obvious.

But one day, when you got into a heated discussion (not an argument, it was a passionate topic you were both on the same side of).

He had this moment where he saw this light in your eyes, this passion overflowing.

You were so determined to change something about the world, so ready to do anything you could.

And that passion in your eyes made him realize in that moment that he really did love you.

Best friend:

Natasha. If it wasn’t obvious lol. I think you two have a lot in common, see the way things should be and have the guts and strength to change things. She admires you and trusts you, and she always has your back.

- Other ship under cut -

Merlin:

I ship you with Arthur.

I picked the Merlin ship, because as soon as I read your info, I thought of Arthur. He would be drawn to your passion and kind heart and would see the best in you, and you would bring the best out of him, or at least make him see that it was there and that he was worthy. He admires you an knows that you are courageous and loyal.

How you met/first impression:

You met when he was in the town talking to people, getting to now them as his duty as prince.

He called upon you, knowing that you knew a lot about the “goings on” in Camelot.

Though you were courteous and reserved at first, as soon as the subject of change came up, you opened up.

You told him of the many things Uther ignored, things that he refused to see

Arthur took it all in and could tell that you were truly a caring person that was loyal to Camelot and it’s people.

The exact kind of person he wanted to be as Prince and later King.

He appreciated your honestly, no matter how brutal it was at some points, and called on you again.

He wanted your opinion in the future on multiple cases, and eventually would call upon you as a friend, and then later more.

The moment he realized he loved you:

It was a simple moment, nothing too crazy.

He showed up at your home to surprise you and saw you through the window.

You were crocheting something and you looked so peaceful.

He watched you for a moment and felt an unusual sense of domestic bliss, as though he was coming home to you.

And in that moment he had the realization that he loved you more than he ever thought he could anyone.

Best-Friend:

Gwen. You and Gwen would get along like family, always checking in on one another, helping out where you could. You spent a lot of free time together, gossiping, joking, running errands, etc.

#ship #ships #ship request #anon ship #5.5k ships #anon #ask

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bitsandbobsofwriting · 3 years

Text

A rogue Druid’s “please join us” speech to Merlin triggers a few things:

Gwaine tries to commit regicide, Leon confronts his (understandable) fear of Dragons, and Merlin has a full on mental breakdown.

The knights are left to pick up the pieces and all of them consider following Gwaine’s lead.

ANGSTY ANGSTY

TW: Blood, death, nightmares. Physical and verbal abuse. A very brief implication of potential suicide/self harm.

Everyone notices the sudden changes within the group, it would be hard not to notice.

No one has any clue what happened though.

One day, everything is fine. If they think back, they realise Merlin had seemed a little... nervous? Maybe? But other than that, everything was fine, normal.

But the next day? From then until now, a month later? Everything was different.

Arthur seemed much angrier. He flew off the handle over the smallest mistakes, he worked the knights so hard in training that at least three of them had to go to Gaius for treatment everyday, and he didn’t seem like he planned on letting up any time soon. He snapped at everyone, even Gwen and Gaius, which was unheard of.

Merlin seemed... quieter. The knights, Gwen, and Gaius barely saw him, but when they did, he flinched at even the slightest noise; his eyes constantly darted around, looking for a way to escape, and he wouldn’t let anyone touch him.

They were worried, but Arthur was so constantly furious that no one dared bring it up with him, and the one time they tried to ask Merlin, he came up with some ridiculous excuse and ran away. They thought they had barely seen him before, but after that they didn’t see him at all for at least four days.

They also noticed how both of their worrying moods seemed ten times worse when they were with each other. Even just being in the same room, made Arthur angrier, and Merlin... they didn’t want to think it but... more scared.

After three weeks of this, they gathered together, and put into place their emergency plan. Leon would speak directly to Arthur, and Lancelot would speak directly to Merlin.

Of all of them, they were the most trusted by each target, and were the most likely to get answers, and the least likely to get a bad reaction if answers were refused.

They were... pretty wrong. Merlin reacted in the same way as he had to the group two and a half weeks ago. Which is odd, because he normally tells Lancelot everything, and not only did he not tell him, he lied and came up with excuses.

Leon was much worse for wear. He showed up a while after Lancelot, pale and miserable. Arthur had just yelled at him a bunch and assigned him extra patrols.

A few days later, they were all still struggling with what to do when Arthur informed them of a quest that was to be undertaken. They were... nervous, to say the least. Going on any sort of dangerous trip with Arthur in this state was bound to go badly, but they could hardly refuse, and they definitely couldn’t bring up the issue again.

So they resigned themselves to it. Gwen wished them luck, and made sure to give Merlin an extra tight hug before they left, and Gaius slipped a few extra medical supplies in each of the knights packs, just in case.

Apparently, patrols of Camelot Knights kept going missing. Whole groups of soldiers, in one very specific area near the border, were just not coming back.

Arthur could hardly justify sending more patrols out, so despite his foul mood, and his desperation to stay away from everyone, he took himself, his five best knights, and his manservant.

Elyan could’ve sworn he heard Arthur mutter something along the lines of “As if I’d leave you here unsupervised.”, to Merlin, the tone far less jesting that it might’ve been a month ago, but he kept it to himself. They were travelling and camping together, there would hardly be an opportunity to share without Arthur and Merlin there.

And like they were all expecting, the trip was hell.

Awkward silences that not even Gwaine could fill, Merlin looking close to tears the whole time, and Arthur constantly looking like he’s considering extreme violence.

Merlin even rides at the back of the group (unheard of), doesn’t complain even once about anything (even more unheard of), and the few times he does speak, he addresses all of them by their titles (down-right panic inducing).

They, of course, realise it had been a trap far too late, and before they even had time to shout and draw their swords, the camp fades around them.

When they wake an indiscernible amount of time later, they have been stripped of armour and weapons, and have been shackled.

They appear to be in a circular, one-room hut, the knights spaced equally and chained to the wall. Their cloaks remain, but any chainmail or armour they had been equipped with was gone, leaving them in the thin clothes they wore underneath, completely unprotected.

Merlin stood in the middle of the room, looking very confused. Once he noticed the knights stirring, he tried to take a step towards them, but frowned when he realised he couldn’t get within a arm’s reach of them.

Once the knights came around fully, they realised that whilst Merlin couldn’t move all that much, they couldn’t speak.

Arthur looks to Merlin with fury written all over his face, and pulls violently on his chains. Merlin flinches back and gasps out:

“This has nothing to do with me, I swear!”

Before the rest of the knights have time to change their expressions to one of confusion, a man walks through the door. Everyone’s gazes turn to him quickly, and they take in his appearance.

He looked like a Druid... but not quite right, like he hadn’t actually been to a camp in a while. He wore neutral colours, browns and greens, but despite his calm demeanour and gentle face, he looked a little crazed.

Where Druids stand calmly and walk softly, this man rushed in and fiddled with his hands, eyes darting around the room at everyone’s faces.

When Merlin goes to demand he introduce himself, the Druid holds a hand up, silencing him (no magic, just a gesture), and begins to speak:

“Who I am, does not matter. But I do know who you are, Emrys. I shall explain it your friends first, so they don’t get too lost.-”

The Druid smiles sadly, and turns to the knights, all of whom (apart from Lancelot) stare on in confusion at the melancholy resignation on the Druid’s face, and the dread on Merlin’s. Still unable to speak, and with very limited movement, they reluctantly resign themselves to listening to whatever speech the villain of the week had come up with.

“-Emrys has been being seen in prophetic visions for centuries. Whilst Uther Pendragon was destined to start the purge, Emrys, or as you know him: Merlin, is destined to stop it. He is said to be the most powerful Warlock to ever walk the earth, past present and future. He can bend the very elements of the world, bring down armies, turn cities to ash with a flick of his wrist. But destiny also foretold of The Once and Future King. Most have accepted that Arthur Pendragon, is said king.-”

Merlin was stiff but panicky during the Druid’s explanation, having realised that for whatever reason, he didn’t have access to his magic right now.

He could feel it buzzing under his skin, but every time he tried to pull it forward, it abandoned him, burrowing deep into his soul and hiding.

Merlin was tense and angry, angry that the chance to tell his friends the truth himself had been taken away, but his statue-like stillness is broken as he frowns and flinches slightly at the thinly veiled disgust in the sorcerer’s voice as he says Arthur’s name.

The Knights look confused, and very much shocked, their gazes flickering between the Druid and Merlin, but he refuses to meet their eyes.

“-Together, Emrys and the Forever King are destined to bring harmony and peace to the world, to restore magic’s place alongside the non magic, to inspire compassion, and stop the unjust genocide that Uther started.-”

Arthur and Leon shuffle uncomfortably at the mention of the late King and his sins, but are more focused on the other shocking revelations. The other knights (again, bar Lancelot, who is staring at Merlin apologetically) seem invested in the story, though they’re clearly confused.

Arthur was made aware of Merlin’s magic a few weeks ago, but despite Merlin’s choice to tell him willingly, he had reacted badly, and in his rage, hadn’t allowed Merlin to explain himself. The other knights were, of course, unaware of this, though they quickly put two and two together.

Despite Merlin’s best efforts, Arthur had stayed in the dark about the whole Emrys-prophecy-destiny thing.

The Druid gives each knight a short assessing gaze, seemingly to make sure they were paying attention.

He turns his attention back to Merlin, who is trying very hard to keep his expression blank (and failing) as he listens:

-”And how long have you waited, my friend, for Arthur to play his part in destiny. Ten years, of having the prophecies shoved down your throat by idealists, being told that you have no choice but to serve a man who would see your head on a spike should he know who you truly are. Ten years in the service of a man who has caused you nothing but pain, given you nothing but nightmares.-”

Merlin flinches and looks away. Every magic user in, or even near Camelot shares the same nightmares, all caused by the Pendragon Reign. There’s no need for a discussion about it, no need for a denial.

“-His father ripped your family apart. He himself stood at the grave of your best friend and told you he was evil, he himself killed the woman you loved-”

Arthur frowns in confusion at this. Merlin had never been in love. But he quickly doubts himself when he hears Merlin gasp quietly, and looks to him to see a tear slip down his cheek.

Fury flashes quickly across Lancelot’s face, obviously knowing the story, but he covers it quickly, and no one is the wiser to the anger slowly growing in his chest at what this so-called Druid was putting his friend through.

The Druid speaks his next words quietly, though still loud enough for everyone in the room to hear, as he lifts a soft hand and gently wipes away Merlin’s tear:

“-I know what you see when you close your eyes. I know why you are so exhausted. But do they? Have you told them?-”

The Druid nods his head in the direction of the knights, but doesn’t break eye contact with Merlin, who sniffles slightly before looking to the floor in shame.

“-Of the smoke and flames that you choke on when you sleep? You dream of pyres built just for you, built by the people you care most about. Even when you are awake, every second you have your eyes closed, every time you blink, you are forced to picture your so-called King with a sword at your throat, as if the scene were painted onto the back of your eyelids.-”

His voice had risen as he spoke and he had begun to pace, anger growing at the pain his Lord had gone through. He practically spits the word “King”, like just saying it disgusts him.

Merlin remains quiet, but he has a steady stream of tears down his face as he looks back at the Druid with despair. The knights watch on in anguish as they see the way he is suffering.

Arthur stops feeling angry and confused, and starts to feel a little guilty. Not that he would let it show; he stares on blankly.

Everyone wanted desperately to believe that the Druid was lying, manipulating them, that Merlin would deny it. But he didn’t. And that told them all they needed to know.

The Druid stopped his pacing, coming to a stand still in front of Merlin and cupping one of his cheeks softly with his hand. The knights pretend not to see Merlin lean into it slightly as his tears continue to fall.

The Druid begins again, speaking softly once more:

“-Were those fears unfounded? Were those nightmares irrational? I see the terror in your eyes. I see how petrified of your King you are.-”

Merlin lets out a shaky breath and glances quickly to Arthur, before looking back at the man in front of him.

The King is taken aback, and the knights are furious at the flash of fear on Merlin’s face when his gaze had momentarily met Arthur’s.

“-What did he do, when he found out? When you bared your soul and gave him nothing but honesty, and undeserved apologies. What did he do?-”

Merlin lets out his first audible sob, and the Knights pull at their chains slightly, desperate to comfort their friend. Arthur slumps back, remembering his actions as if they were mere hours ago.

One of Merlin’s hands lifted to cover his mouth as he chokes back a second sob, but the other lifts subconsciously to tug at the scarf around his neck.

The Druid lets a single tear escape his eye as he waves his hand gently, the scarf disappearing with the gentle golden glow of his eyes.

Merlin seems too distraught to notice; and moves both hands to clamp tightly over his mouth as tears stream down his face. His shoulders hunch, but not enough for any of the knights to miss what the Druid had clearly been trying to expose; a thin, barely healed scar along the base of his throat. As if a sword had been pressed there.

The Druid’s eyes lose focus slightly and he frowns as he ghosts a finger over the scar, seemingly asking the next question to himself:

“-Nightmares on the back of your eyelids, or visions of the future, hmm?-”

His eyes refocus, and he cards a hand through Merlin’s hair, trying to calm the man’s heartache as the knights stare on in horror.

Arthur resists the urge to look towards his knights, not wanting to see the disgusted glares he knows they’re sending his way.

The Druid pauses for a moment in his speech, waiting for Merlin to calm slightly before he quietly continued:

“-And what has he done since then? Has he allowed explanation? Has he seen the error of his ways and tried to understand? Or has he called you a liar, and a traitor. Has he called you a monster, whilst demanding that you continue to serve him?-”

Merlin’s breathing grows deeper as he struggles to control his sobs. He lowers his hands to be clenched at his sides, shaking, as the Druid softly places his hands on his shoulders.

His next words are spoken even quieter, though the knights can still hear him and the deadly anger that’s barely concealed in the man’s tone:

“-Has he laid hands on you, and called you a beast, while you cowered in fear, knowing that if you defended yourself he would see himself proven right?-”

Merlin let’s out loud, gasping sobs once more as the Druid’s hands travel softly down, from his shoulders to his wrists. There, he looks down, sorrow on his face as he carefully lifts Merlin’s sleeves, bunching them around his elbows.

The knights decide then and there they are going to protect Merlin no matter what, no matter from whom, as they each see the handprint shaped bruises littering Merlin’s arms.

“-He has hurt you, over and over and over-”

As he speaks, the Druid hovers his hands over the bruises, his eyes glowing softly golden as they heal.

“-And you despair, believing yourself worthless-”

Merlin flinches, and his sobbing grows more intense as his face is taken in soft hands.

“-waiting on a Golden Age that he refuses to bring. He is cruel, and unjust, how many more times must he hurt you? How many more of our people will the Pendragon line slaughter, out of misguided hatred? How much more sleep must you lose? How many more nightmares must you endure? You have stood loyally by his side for a decade, and had to stand and watch as he continued his father’s legacy, forced to believe it was destiny.-”

The Druid says “destiny” as if he hates the taste of the word in his mouth, the bloodshed of the past almost thirty years clearly having made him lose faith in the prophecies.

Merlin’s breathing has calmed slightly, and the knights aren’t sure whether to be relieved or frightened, as the Druid desperately continues, clutching Merlin’s hands in his own:

“-Too many lives have been lost, too much innocent blood spilt. Haven’t you yourself been forced to kill your own people to protect this False King from the consequences of his own actions?-”

The knights think too soon as Merlin’s breathing and sobs grow erratic once more. The manservant almost falls to the floor, his eyes clenched desperately shut, and only the Druids hands on his shoulders keeping him upright:

“-I was young, and naïve once. I too, believed in Arthur Pendragon, I believed in the prophecies, I believed he would a great king and a good man-”

He leans forward, pressing his forehead to Merlin’s as he gently says:

“-but he is not. He has failed you, and failed our people.-”

The Druid steps back, but still holds Merlin’s shoulder tightly as he gives him a pleading look.

The knights know what’s coming before it is said, and with the anguish and desperation and grief on their friend’s face? After they learned what their benevolent King had done? Well... they wouldn’t have blamed Merlin for saying yes.

“-I ask you to join me, Emrys. I know it’s difficult, to give up on a man you gave so much of yourself to, but there is too much Uther in him. It’s time, and you know this, to rewrite destiny. Dig your own path, liberate your own people, bring magic and compassion and harmony back to the world yourself.-”

Merlin, though distraught, still looks doubtful, and the knights hold their breath as the Druid continues, becoming more and more furious at their inability to speak.

All of them have tears in their eyes, if not falling already, even Arthur, though he has remained still and blank through the tears.

“-I know the flames you fear, the sword’s edge, the gallows’ drop, the axe’s fall. Do not let our kin continue to fear those things, do not stand by, waiting for the Pendragon tyrant to change, and allowing sacrifices to be made in the mean time.-”

Merlin’s sobbing begins again, and the Druid kisses him softly on the forehead before kneeling to the floor, gripping Merlin’s hands and looking up at him desperately:

"-You are Emrys, Lord of the Druids, and Conduit for all magic of this world. Not some servant that an entitled brat can toss around and treat lesser than the dirt he walks on. You are my King, our King. Not him.-”

He stands again and grips Merlin’s arms tightly, most likely leaving more bruises in place of the ones he had healed.

Merlin doesn’t notice the pain, but shakes his head stutteringly, still crying.

“-Do not let your people lose you to Arthur, as Arthur lost himself to Uther. To give up on him is painful, but the screams of your kin, burning for their gifts, echoing in your skull day and night?-”

The Druid’s hands move up to grip the sides of Merlin’s head, and he shakes him ever so slightly, his tone frantic and pleading:

“-That is worse. That is pain he will never understand, and certainly never care for. Join me, please my Lord I beg you, for our people.”

One of the Druid’s hands slides lower, to softly cup Merlin’s cheek again, but the other drops entirely.

The knights have never resented being magically gagged more than in this moment. They could do nothing but watch on in horror as the man summons a dagger behind his back.

The Druid is clearly waiting on his response, and Merlin is too distraught to notice the consequences of a wrong answer, tears flowing quickly down his face and ugly sobs forcing their way out of his throat.

Arthur watches in terror, knowing that this was his fault, that every shitty, selfish decision he had ever made had to led to this point. And the knights knew it too.

All they can do is pray to every deity they know the name of, that Arthur has done enough damage for Merlin to say yes. And oh, what a terrible thing to pray for.

The Druid softly strokes Merlin’s cheekbone with his thumb as the Warlock takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He looks up, meeting the gaze of the man opposite him before croaking:

“I... I can’t. Arthur is a good man, I have faith that he will-”

Before he can finish his sentence, the dagger is thrust up into his chest, his words stuttering to a stop and his red-rimmed eyes growing wide at the sudden, agonising pain spreading throughout his body.

Merlin is vaguely aware of the knights pulling roughly at their chains, but he pays them no mind as blood gurgles up his throat and he frowns, struggling to hear what the Druid was whispering in his ear:

“Then you have forsaken your people, and so I shall forsake you. Traitor.”

With that, Merlin is dropped roughly to the floor, dagger still imbedded in his chest as he lands on his side. Blood spills from both his mouth and the wound, eyes unfocused but heavy as the tears continue to overflow.

The knights are silently screaming, thrashing against their chains as their friend chokes, but Merlin ignores them in favour of smiling gently at the soft feeling of nothing, growing outwards from his chest.

He frowns once more, as though remembering something, and his eyes go glassy as two words escape from his mouth, barely a whisper:

“I’m... sorry...”

An apology to whom, no one knows, but with those last words his body goes completely still, the pool of blood still expanding beneath him, and his eyes unseeingly staring just to the left of The King.

No one in the room can tear their eyes from Merlin’s pale corpse, face now a mess of tears and blood.

The Druid looks down at him with an odd mix of contempt, and genuine sorrow. He had obviously waited long enough that his resentment of Arthur had bled into his feelings for his so-called saviour, but still grieved for what could have been.

The Knights look at him in horror, all understanding that they had never been lucky, they had just had Merlin. He had never asked for thanks, or recognition, or reward. He had kept them all safe, at great expense to himself, and now he was dead.

Lancelot seems the... calmest, though he still cries like the rest of them. He had, in theory, known of the pain Merlin was in, but had he known it was plaguing him to this extent... well perhaps he wouldn’t have been so loyal to Arthur.

Arthur himself stares at Merlin with nothing but terror and agonising grief. He had done this. If he had just let Merlin explain, if he had just given him five minutes, instead of bruises and nightmares and fear, then he would still be alive.

If he hadn’t been so selfish and cruel, perhaps hundreds of people, just like Merlin, just as scared and innocent as Merlin, would also be alive.

Merlin had spent his entire time in Camelot trying to convince Arthur that he wasn’t his father... and Arthur had gone and proven him wrong at every turn. And even then Merlin still had faith, still called him a good man.

The silencing spell still has hold over the knights, so they cry and scream and thrash soundlessly as the Druid finally rips his gaze from the body at his feet.

He steps carefully around Merlin to stand in front of Arthur. The sorrow clears from his face, leaving only contempt and rage left to be directed at the man in front of him. Arthur does not look up, keeping his tear stained face focused on the floor, even as the Druid begins to speak:

“You see what you have done, Arthur Pendragon? You think magic is the thing that corrupts, but it is not. It is you. Emrys was meant to be a saviour, a God, a guiding light to help our people to safety, but you tainted him, reduced him to nothing more than a sad, scared boy, and then reduced him further, to a corpse. My hands are clean of blood Pendragon, but yours?? Oh, yours are drenched in it.”

Arthur slowly lifts his distraught gaze to the Druid, but quickly widens his eyes at what he sees.

Merlin stands behind the Druid, eyes glowing golden, tears once more streaming down his face as he grips the handle of the dagger, still buried in his chest.

The bloodstains grow even larger as he grimaces slightly and pulls it free, before wordlessly forcing it through the Druid’s back.

The man lets out a sudden gasp, and looks down to see just the tip of the blade poking out where his heart should be. He gargles something, words that no one can make out, before Merlin pulls the dagger out again, and his body crumples to the floor.

The knights and Arthur can feel the silencing spell release them, but none of them make even a noise as they stare in shock at their tormented, but very much alive, friend.

Merlin drops the dagger from his hand and it lands with a splash in the mixing puddles of blood, before he himself falls harshly to his knees.

The others finally break out of their stupor, once again pulling towards their friend. Their cries and shouts of his name can be heard by everyone but him as he leans forward, placing his forehead against that of the lifeless Druid.

His cries grow erratic again as he whispers apology after apology, and every heart breaks even more at the sight before them.

They know why he apologises, they know why he grieves, even over a man who had tried to... had succeeded in killing him. The death of yet another of his own kind who was sick of waiting, who was rightfully angry, was not something to be celebrated.

They had thought, at the beginning of this, that they would get through whatever the Druid threw at them, they always did. But this, the brokenness of one of their dearest friends, was not something that looks fixable.

Merlin finally sits up again and he sobs louder, still deaf and blind to those around him. Lancelot has just enough time to yell at the others to cover their eyes, as a gut-wrenching scream escapes the Warlock.

They’re almost blinded, even with their eyes tightly shut and their arms thrown up. The scream is the loudest, and most anguished they’ve ever heard, and the force in which Merlin releases his magic completely eviscerates the hut they had been chained in.

Each of them is thrown violently backwards, and their chains crumble to the floor with the rest of the building as they try to find purchase on the ground. None of them are hurt too badly, and they’re grateful for the fact that even in this state, Merlin’s magic seems incapable of really causing them any damage.

The scream ends, and the knights look up to see Merlin sat in the middle of the crater he had created, staring blankly into the middle distance. Tears still stream down his face, but he doesn’t move and he makes no sound, just kneels there with his blood soaked hands on his lap, palms towards the sky.

It takes a few moments for the knights to regain their senses, but once they do, all hell breaks loose.

Gwaine immediately gets to his feet and makes a rush towards Arthur, fully intending on throttling him, screaming obscenities as he went, but Percival and Elyan jump forward, grabbing an arm each and dragging him away as he curses the King and the Sky and the Gods.

As much as Percival and Elyan were not impartial to killing Arthur right now, Merlin was the priority, and as much as he may have deserved it, Merlin would never forgive them if they hurt the King.

Arthur seems to be unaware of the attempt on his life made by one of his most trusted knights, and just stares blankly at an equally blank Merlin.

Lancelot and Leon make a bee-line for the Warlock, but stop just short of touching him, not knowing how he would react.

Leon nods gently at Lancelot, clearly having picked up that this knight had already known at least part of the story. Lancelot returns his nod, before moving forward slowly. The body of the Druid lays untouched at Merlin’s knees, and the knight removes his cloak, laying it over him, before reaching a slow hand towards Merlin’s shoulder.

He finally makes contact after a little hesitation, whispering his name as gently and as comfortingly as he is able with tears still leaking from his eyes.

Merlin doesn’t react at all to Lancelot’s touch, not even when he takes his bloody hand, or shakes his shoulder slightly; just sits and stares and cries.

Leon gulps before reaching forward himself. He grabs the dagger from besides Merlin and tosses it behind him (he didn’t like to think about that action too much. He has no idea what state his friend is in right now, best to not have any sharp instruments within his reach when he came to.) before lifting his hand to wipe away the man’s tears.

Arthur stares upon all of this in horror from his position sprawled on the floor a few metres away.

Elyan and Percival have just about managed to calm Gwaine, and they begin making their way to Leon, Lancelot, and Merlin, but before they get even halfway there, Arthur finally speaks.

His voice breaks, and is barely audible, but everyone hears him nonetheless as he murmurs:

“I did this...”

Gwaine makes another run at him, regaining his anger, and Percival and Elyan just about manage to grab him before he commits regicide.

Lancelot and Leon look up at him sharply, but when Lancelot lowers his gaze and continues to try and rouse Merlin, Leon holds the King’s gaze, and says strongly:

“Yes. Yes you did, My Lord.”

Arthur’s face crumbles even more, and Leon glares at him with venom for a few more seconds, before giving Lancelot a soft pat on the back, and walking towards the other three.

He mumbles a few harsh things that only Gwaine can hear, who responds at first with more anger, but then resignation. The First Knight gives the man a pat on the back and nods knowingly at Elyan and Percival. No one, not even Gwaine, pretends to miss the meaning of “be ready to catch him again” in the gesture.

Arthur stays in his position on the floor as the four of them walk softly towards Merlin and Lancelot, but before they get there, everyone’s gazes are drawn to the shadow in the sky, getting closer and closer.

It moves with an alarming place, and their anger at Arthur is momentarily forgotten as he scrambles up and screams:

“DRAGON!!”

Gwaine, Elyan, Percival and Arthur rush forward to stand between the beast and the other three. They have no armour or weapons, but like hell were they just going to let it get to them.

Lancelot looks up to see the white, horse sized beast land heavily in front of The King, his eyes widen and he jumps up, rushing forward to push between the others.

Leon moves to hold a still unresponsive Merlin behind his back protectively, but frowns in confusion when Lancelot yells at Arthur (who had been about to run at the beast):

“NO! No don’t hurt her! She’s Merlin’s, don’t hurt her!”

Everyone looks at him in confusion and fear as he slowly approaches the Dragon, she had been growling lowly at first, but seemed to perk up when she saw Lancelot.

Lancelot gives her a small smile, and holds his hand out, allowing her to come to him, before quietly saying:

“I’ve never been more glad to see you, Aithusa. Merlin is over here.”

He turns back towards the others, and calmly, but forcefully says:

“Move. She needs to see him.”

Gwaine nods after a moment, trusting Lancelot, and moves out of the way. Arthur goes to argue, but Elyan and Percival roughly shove him to the side, clearing a path to Merlin and Leon for Lancelot and the new, slightly terrifying, arrival.

Leon looks up fearfully, still in front of Merlin protectively. He stares at the Dragon for a few moments, breathing deeply, before looking up at Lancelot. Lancelot gives him a weak smile, and a nod before saying quietly:

“He’s a Dragon-Lord. She can help him, it’s ok.”

Leon gulps, before nodding, and stepping out of the way. He doesn’t move too far, obviously still affected by his last encounter with a Dragon, and watches with unconcealed suspicion as Aithusa prances around Lancelot at his nod.

The others crowd closer as well, looking on in confusion, awe, suspicion, as Aithusa slowly approaches Merlin.

She lays down at his side, gently pressing her head onto Merlin’s hands, still in his lap. Her mouth opens and Leon gasps as she blows a gentle mist up into his face. Merlin’s back straightens and the knights can see his eyes come back into focus as he blinks.

They all stare with bated breath as he gulps, and begins to notice his surroundings; looking in fear at the crater around him.

Merlin is broken from his growing panic as Aithusa chirps softly from his lap, and his head whips down, only now noticing her.

The knights let out a collective breath as he smiles, very slightly and very briefly, but still; after what they had just seen him go through they would take anything. He leans his head down, and wraps his arms around the creature. She chirps once again, louder this time, as she uses her tail to push away the forgotten Druid’s corpse.

She curls her body around Merlin protectively, and he collapses even further into the semi-embrace she’s giving him. The knights smile slightly, relieved that Merlin seems responsive, and safe, before they take slow steps towards the two of them.

She whips her head up quickly and growls at them, digging her front claws into the ground. They take in sudden breaths and stop moving, wary, but she stops growling when she looks to Lancelot.

The others stare on in shock and confusion as she tilts her head slightly, and Lancelot nods as he quietly says:

“They’re friends, it’s ok.”

The creature seems to nod, and the others follow behind Lancelot as he begins moving towards Merlin again.

He crouches down, and gives Aithusa a well-received scratch on the chin, before he gently places a hand between Merlin’s shoulder-blades.

Percival, Elyan, Gwaine, and finally Leon follow suit, sitting carefully next to the Dragon, but unlike Lancelot, they don’t touch her, or Merlin. She may seem safe and loving and on their side, but she was still a Dragon.

Arthur moves a little slower, not sure if he’s welcome (he’s not) but when he gets within five feet of the group huddled on the floor, Aithusa lifts her head and growls again.

Elyan and Percival are shocked at the sudden movement, but Gwaine smirks, and Leon nods his head approvingly (though he’s still understandably... nervous). Lancelot looks back at a shocked and still tear-stricken Arthur, and speaks. His voice is quiet, but his tone is vicious:

“They have a mental link; she sees what he sees. It might be best, Your Majesty, for you to stay away.”

He doesn’t bother to watch Arthur’s reaction; he turns back and begins carding a soft hand through Merlin’s hair. He flinches only slightly before relaxing under the soft ministrations, and Aithusa gives Lancelot an affectionate lick on the arm.

The other knights do see the way that Arthur flinches, before he gives a shaky nod and takes a few steps back. He goes to say something, but the tears in his eyes overflow, and he turns to walk away.

Gwaine’s smirk grows slightly before he drops it entirely and turns back to the others, no longer caring what Arthur got up to. He is the first of the knights, other than Lancelot, to be brave enough to reach a hand forward and stroke Aithusa gently.

Elyan and Percival hesitatingly follow his lead, and Aithusa chirps happily at the attention. Leon’s gaze follows Arthur as he walks towards the horses.

They were far away, well out of the way of Merlin’s blast, but even with the distance Leon could see they were shaken. Thankfully they had been tied to the trees, otherwise he’s certain they would have bolted.

Leon finds it only slightly surprising that he feels no sympathy for the King. There’s only so much you can forgive a man for. When Arthur finally reaches the horses and begins untacking them, he looks away, back to Aithusa and Merlin.

Everyone can tell that Camelot’s First Knight is still rather shaken at the presence of the Dragon, but when Merlin looks up slightly to see him still sat there, unwilling to leave him, his heart swells a little.

Leon meets his gaze and gulps, but returns Merlin’s shaky smile.

The other knights smile as well, glad that Merlin was feeling at least a little better, and Percival speaks quietly, not wanting to spook him (or the Dragon):

“Hey, there’s our lucky charm.”

The other knights give him questioning looks but Merlin just chuckles slightly, before sitting up properly, and focusing his attention on running his fingers over Aithusa’s scales, picking out grass and mud.

Percival looks indignant before replying, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world:

“What? You honestly thought that tree branches only fell if there was a fight happening, and then only fell on the enemies?? The rock-falls? The fires even when it was pouring with rain?? The miraculous solutions to end-of-the-world type problems?? Come on, guys.”

The others look taken aback at that, but Lancelot just smiles knowingly. They all look to Merlin, who has managed to wipe the blood from his face with his sleeve, and he just shrugs slightly.

The rest of them, bar Leon, let out small huffs of laughter, and continue to stroke Aithusa, knowing that Merlin almost certainly isn’t ready for an actual conversation yet.

Merlin looks at Leon’s pale form assessingly, before a look of realisation crosses his face. The knight is tense, and staring at Aithusa’s sharp teeth with worry, but his gaze is quickly drawn to Merlin when he reaches a shaky hand towards him.

Merlin gives him an understanding smile, and crooks his fingers, encouraging the curly-haired knight to take his hand. Leon does so, and his breath hitches as Merlin lowers their intertwined hand to rest on the top of Aithusa’s head.

Leon lets out a slow breath as he feels Elyan’s supportive hand on his back, but relaxes fully when he sees the sparkle in Merlin’s eyes. Anything to make their Warlock happy in this moment. And forever, probably.

Gwaine looks at Leon out of the corner of his eye, and says lowly:

“I’m fairly certain I’m going to try and kill him if I look at him again, so what’s the King up to?”

Merlin tenses slightly, but Leon squeezes his hand and he relaxes again. Lancelot raises and eyebrow and before Leon can reply, he says:

“What, no princess?”

Gwaine narrows his eyes before gruffly saying:

“Princess was an affectionate nickname, and I’m not feeling all that affectionate towards him right now.”

The others nod knowingly, turning their attention back to Merlin and Aithusa. Leon leaves his hand in Merlin’s, but looks at Gwaine before saying lowly:

“He went to deal with the horses. Now we know we no longer need a quick get-away, they need untacking and feeding and watering. They were pretty spooked by... they were pretty spooked.”

Leon looks back at Merlin when his hand gets squeezed, to see him frowning slightly. Leon catches his eye and gives him a small smile, but Merlin just gets teary-eyed again, before sniffing and muttering:

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to I just... I’m sorry.”

Only a single tear has time to fall before Lancelot has his hand on Merlin’s shoulder again (comfortingly), and Elyan has his hand on Gwaine’s shoulder (forcefully). Leon shakes his head softly, and responds in a gentle voice:

“You don’t have anything to apologise for Merlin, we are the ones who should be sorry, for not being able to protect you.”

Merlin’s frown deepens, and he goes to retort, but Gwaine beats him to it, obviously trying to keep the anger out of his voice:

“From the so-called Druid and from him. We should have done better.”

Leon can feel Merlin’s hand begin to shake, so he squeezes it once more as Merlin shakes his head and speaks, his voice sounding stronger already:

“It’s not his fault. He was just shaken and scared and I should have-”

Gwaine clenches his jaw, struggling to keep control of his rage, but Elyan grips his shoulder tighter in warning, and replies in his stead, interrupting Merlin:

“There’s no excuse Merlin. All of us have been attacked by magic, but equally, all of us have been attacked by swords. I mean look at Leon, giving Dragons a second chance after what happened. I would perhaps understand brief anger, but there is no way to justify laying his hands on you in such a way that leaves bruises, and certainly no justification for putting a blade to your throat.”

Merlin frowns, and looks like he wants to argue, but once again, a knight beats him to it, Lancelot this time:

“No, Merls. We know how much he means to you. But what he did was wrong, there’s no rationalisation. We all know that you’ve already forgiven him, and that’s why we can’t yet. Probably not for a while.”

Merlin sighs, looking pained, and Leon uses his other hand to tilt his chin up:

“Not to say that we won’t ever forgive him. But someone has to be angry at him for what he’s done, and Lord knows you aren’t gonna do it. Consider us your stand-ins.”

Merlin smiles slightly, and Leon considers that a win, returning the smile and nodding slightly to himself, before looking back down at the Dragon, now seemingly asleep, and purring, on Merlin’s lap.

Elyan releases the death grip on Gwaine’s shoulder, when the now much calmer knight, with a smile on his face, says:

“So... you have a Dragon??”

Merlin chuckles fondly, before looking to him and saying quietly:

“Yeah. Her name is Aithusa. I’m surprised she came alone, Kilgharrah usually doesn’t like it when she runs off.”

Lancelot winces slightly as the other knights look shocked, before Percival says:

“Kil-what-now? There’s another one??”

Merlin grimaces slightly, before looking to Leon worriedly and tightening the grip on his hand:

“Uhh... yeah. Kilgharrah is the name of the Dragon that... attacked Camelot a few years ago.-”

Leon straightens his back and gulps, but doesn’t remove his hand from Merlin’s, nodding at him to continue:

“-I didn’t have control over him until right at the end. I told him to leave and never come back, unless I called him-”

Lancelot makes a noise of realisation as he nods, and interrupts Merlin:

“That’s probably why Aithusa came alone. You didn’t call for her, and technically we’re still within Camelot’s borders. He couldn’t come even if he wanted to. Poor sod is probably clomping around at the edge of the border freaking out.”

Merlin looks to Lancelot and nods, satisfied to feel Leon relax a bit, before looking back to the First Knight apologetically:

“-He does feel really bad at that. He just wanted to get back at Uther for the whole... genocide thing I guess. But that’s no excuse. I just didn’t want to be the one to be responsible for killing the last Dragon, even if Kilgharrah personally might’ve deserved it at the time. That was all before Aithusa came along.”

Everyone nods in understanding, before focussing their attention back on Aithusa. She really was like a giant puppy, even if they had to be wary to avoid her claws as she twitched in her sleep.

Merlin sighs, looking forlorn once again as he realises how exhausted he is, knowing that they’re going to have to get up and make camp at some point.

He can cope with an awkward, tense silence between him and Arthur easily enough, that’s what the last few weeks had consisted of. But an awkward and tense silence between everyone? Elyan and Percival inwardly fuming? Gwaine outwardly fuming? Leon and Lancelot being all protective? He’s not sure he can deal with that.

At Merlin’s sigh, Lancelot tilts his head to catch his eye. His brow creases as he says softly:

“What is it, Merls?”

Merlin looks up, still squeezing Leon’s hand, before quietly replying:

“Nothing, I’m just tired. We have to re-make camp at some point and I’m not sure if I can deal with everyone being so...”

He waves his free hand around loosely, and Lancelot huffs out a laugh, before kicking Gwaine, getting everyone’s attention:

“We have to go make camp. But Merlin is exhausted, and doesn’t want to deal with any of this shit tonight, so we’re all going to have to play nice for the time being.”

Gwaine growls, and quickly retorts:

“Like hell am I gonna treat him with-”

Lancelot kicks him again, harder this time, and Elyan replaces the harsh hand on his shoulder before forcefully saying:

“Right now, it doesn’t matter what Arthur deserves. Merlin needs peace and quiet, and that’s what we’re going to give him.”

Gwaine grumbles, but begrudgingly nods, and Merlin gives him a grateful smile.

The knights all stand up, and Merlin shakes Aithusa awake, giving a small chuckle when she stretches like a cat.

Once she takes her weight off of his lap, Merlin follows the knights to stand, almost falling over at the weakness in his legs. Leon and Lancelot catch an arm each, steadying him as he shuts his eyes tightly, willing the dizziness away.

He feels a hand wipe the hair from his forehead, and opens his eyes slowly to see Percival checking him over with an assessing gaze:

“I’m fine, just tired, a little dizzy.”

Lancelot nods in understanding, humming slightly:

“Hmm. I’m not surprised, you haven’t done anything this big in a while, and I doubt you’ve slept well in the last few weeks.”

Merlin gives him a sheepish look as he shakes his head, but it’s Elyan’s questioning gaze that Lancelot responds to:

“I found out by accident when I first met him. Our Warlock isn’t very good at keeping secrets.”

He says it with a small smirk as he looks back down to Merlin, who’s looking indignant:

“Hey! I managed to keep everyone else from finding out.”

Gwaine looks guilty as he raises his arm quietly:

“Actually uh... I knew. I mean not about the whole Emrys, prophecy thing. But the magic stuff, yeah.”

Merlin looks at him, shocked. The other knights share his expression for just a moment before they laugh at the look on Merlin’s face:

“How?!”

Gwaine puts his arm down and laughs again:

“Mate... we met in the middle of a tavern fight, in which shit started literally flying about the moment you joined in.-”

He shrugged, before casually continuing:

“-I figured you would tell me when you wanted to. Until then, it wasn’t my secret to know. You also have me to thank for backing you up every time The Prick asked if I saw you at the tavern.”

Merlin laughed and nodded his thanks, before looking over to where said Prick was setting up camp, a few metres beyond the edge of the crater.

His face fell slightly and the others follow his gaze, tensing slightly in anger when they saw what he was looking at. Merlin takes his arms from Leon and Lancelot, finally feeling steady on his feet, before quietly saying:

“Come on, we might as well get this over with. I’m starving, and tired, and Aithusa will get bored if we don’t start entertaining her.”

Everyone turns around to see Aithusa (now she was sure that her Lord was ok), prancing about in the crater; chasing birds and digging holes.

Merlin raises an eyebrow and everyone else chuckles slightly. Gwaine pushes Lancelot out of the way and takes Merlin’s hand, beginning to walk determinedly towards camp. Everyone catches up quickly, Leon taking Merlin’s other hand when the man had reached out to grab his cape.

Gwaine looks down at Merlin, seeing how nervous he is, and says:

“So. How long until she’s big enough to be ridden? I want you to take me flying, Merlin.”

Merlin chuckles, and looks back to see Aithusa happily trailing them:

“Not for a while. Dragons grow slow, so it’ll be another few years at least. Plus she’s got some issues with bone growth that we’re still trying to fix. She’ll be fine in the long run, but her development is taking a lot longer than normal. She still can’t speak.”

Everyone stops at that, and Merlin’s arms get yanked back when he continued walking. He turns to see Leon giving him an incredulous look:

“Dragons can speak?!”

Merlin tilts his head in confusion, before laughing and tugging them forwards again:

“Yeah. I forget that Uther basically erased all knowledge on Dragons, but they’re just as intelligent as we are. Kilgharrah would like to think that they’re more intelligent, but he’s always been a cryptic, egotistical bastard.-”

The others follow his pace and nod, but the mood darkens as they almost reach the camp. Merlin continues faintly, but quickly:

“I’ll tell you everything I know when... when we get back.”

Leon squeezes his hand, knowing that he was about to say “if”, assuring him that “when” is the right word.

Arthur looks up at the group and gulps from his place next to the fire. He straightens up, the anxiety showing clearly on his face, but before anyone can say anything, Aithusa jumps in between him.

He falls back at the sudden movement and she begins to growl; he widens his eyes as she stalks slowly towards him.

Gwaine smirks again, the others managing to keep their faces blank, but Merlin looks shocked, before he jumps forward and puts a hand on the Dragon’s back:

“Aithusa no. He’s a... friend. It’s ok, he’s-”

Arthur jumps to his feet and interrupts him:

“No, no it’s fine. I’ll... go... sit over there.”

He gestures behind him, and walks quickly away from the fire, sitting just within the fire’s light, the evening dimming around them.

Aithusa tilts her head, snaps her jaws at him once more before completely changing disposition. She begins bouncing around the fire, chirping happily and playfully trying to catch floating embers in her claws.

Merlin smiles slightly and the other knights (bar Gwaine, who is glaring very pointedly at Arthur) chuckle at her antics, before they all sit in a semi circle on the opposite side of the fire to Arthur, Merlin in the middle.

The Warlock is once again wedged protectively between Leon and Gwaine, and he fiddles softly with Leon’s cape in his lap as he stares fondly at Aithusa.

Elyan moves to the packs, unloading food and water and cooking pots. Merlin gets up to help, but Gwaine pulls him back down by the hand and holds on firmly as he says:

“You’ve been through enough. We can put up with Elyan’s shitty cooking for a couple nights.”

Merlin tries to pull away with a “But I can-” but Leon grabs his other hand, holding him down and interrupting:

“Absolutely not. You said yourself that you’re tired. If Elyan needs help, he can ask one of us.”

Merlin huffs sulkily and Leon laughs, stroking the back of his hand protectively.

Leon had known Merlin just as long as Arthur had, and whilst they had virtually nothing to do with each other the first few years, they were still friendly acquaintances, even then. Leon knew full well that it was Merlin who would have a hot meal left in his room after a late patrol, and Merlin always appreciated how Leon kept as many weapons in the armoury in as good nick as possible, so Merlin didn’t have to deal with it.

Besides, even before they knew each other’s names, Leon always found Merlin’s reactions to Arthur’s stupidity funny. He could hardly say it out loud, being the Perfect Knight and all, but he always thought it was a good thing that Arthur had someone at his side keeping him humble, and calling him out in ways no one else would.

Of course they had gotten much closer over the years, as did all of the knights, thanks to Merlin. Currently, Leon was feeling just a tinge of regret at being so grateful for Merlin’s presence at Arthur’s side; he had never really thought about how difficult being that man’s babysitter would be, especially now he knew Merlin had magic. And some sort of destiny.

Time passes fairly quickly whilst Elyan cooks, the others taking to heart what Lancelot had said and trying to keep a quiet, but easy conversation going.

They ask Merlin various questions about Aithusa, Kilgharrah, the Druids, the weird name that he had been called. He answered them all easily enough, but they notice the way he hesitates when they ask about his magic specifically or the prophecies, so they steer clear of those topics.

They’ll definitely want to know the whole story eventually, and they’re practically buzzing with desperation to ask Merlin to show them something magical, but they know that now is not the time.

Dinner is finally served, and despite Gwaine’s statement, it wasn’t actually that bad. Mainly because every time Elyan went to add something to the pot, he would look back desperately at Merlin, and took into account the shakes and nods of his head with a grateful smile.

He did struggle to cover the scowl on his face when he delivered Arthur’s bowl to him, replying to The King’s quiet “thank you, Elyan” with an even quieter “don’t mention it” .

Dinner was eaten quickly and in silence. They hadn’t been unconscious for long, and hour or two at most, but they had all worked up an understandable appetite, Merlin especially. He would never ask for seconds, but knowing that, Elyan gave him an extra big serving without a word.

They entertained themselves after dinner by throwing the last scraps of meat to Aithusa, watching her jump and flip and fly about the camp. Merlin had objected at first, but gave in when he saw the small grin on Leon’s face, and heard the way the others were laughing. The City was only a few days ride away, they could always hunt on the way back.

It didn’t take long for her to tire out and curl up at Merlin’s feet to sleep. Like Merlin had mentioned, Aithusa was developing slowly, and she normally couldn’t fly very far; it must’ve taken a huge amount of energy and effort for her to get all the way here. But like the Knights, she was very protective, and there was no way she could not check on her Lord, after she and Kilgharrah had felt the anguish he was in.

As Kilgharrah once again crosses Merlin’s mind, he sighs, and makes mental note to call him in the morning, when he had more energy.

Merlin is distracted from his thoughts when the camp goes silent all of a sudden, and Gwaine reaches over to squeeze his hand. He looks up in worry, to see that Arthur had stood, and walked a little closer, though he made sure to stay the other side of the fire.

Merlin tenses slightly. He tries not to let it show, but he can knows that he failed when he feels Leon’s hand firmly in the middle of his back. Hidden from the others, but a silent reassurance.

Arthur gulps, obviously nervous, but he meets Merlin’s gaze, flinching at the slight fear in his eyes:

“Merlin, I know nothing I say will-”

He’s interrupted by Gwaine growling and standing suddenly, stepping in front of Merlin protectively, but it’s Lancelot’s harsh words that cut him off fully:

“Not tonight, Arthur. We’re all tired and angry so just... not tonight.”

Arthur clenches his jaw, and blinks away tears before nodding:

“Yes, I... I understand.”

With that, he sniffles slightly before taking a step back. He looks to the floor as he mumbles something about checking the perimeter, before slowly walking away from the camp, into the night.

Merlin lets out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding, and relaxes slightly as Leon runs his hand over his back. Gwaine stares after Arthur for a few moments, deliberating on whether or not to follow him (and presumably, kick his ass). Merlin reaching up to take his hand and pull him back down makes his mind up, and he settles back into his seat, Merlin’s small hand clasped between his two larger ones.

Percival speaking up breaks the tense silence:

“It’s late and Lance is right, we’re all tired. If we want to make quick work of the journey home, and have time to hunt, then we should get some sleep.”

Murmurs of agreement float up around the group, and Gwaine, voice still tense and angry, says:

“I’ll take first-”

But he’s quickly interrupted by Elyan, softly laughing:

“Absolutely not, Gwaine. If you’re left alone we’ll all wake to find the King dead in the morning.”

Gwaine raises a challenging eyebrow, not denying anything, and Elyan huffs, Percival muttering:

“Fine. But I’m taking it with you so you don’t get a chance to smother him.”

Gwaine gives a sarcastic looking smile, before ruffling Merlin’s hair fondly and walking towards the fire. He adds another log, grabs his bedroll, and settles down against a tree, Percival sitting at his side.

Everyone else gathers their rolls, and whilst normally they spread out, they all seem rather desperate to stay as close to Merlin as possible.

Normally he would complain, they all snore, and Merlin is definitely expecting nightmares tonight, but he can’t find it in himself to send them away, and to be perfectly honest, he's certain that they would just move back the moment he closed his eyes anyway.

The Warlock finds himself tucked under Lancelot’s arm, with Leon a respectful distance away on his other side, though still within arm’s reach. Elyan settles somewhere below his feet, and for the first time in weeks, Merlin finds himself fully relaxed.

Aithusa sleepily moves from her spot by Merlin’s feet, to curl up with Gwaine and Percival, and Merlin smiles at the thought that she not only trusts his friends in general, but trusts them enough to leave Merlin in their care. Dragons are protective and possessive creatures, and that trust speaks volumes.

Merlin is still a little miserable, and he almost resents himself for still being scared of Arthur despite his obvious regret, but... with all that happened... well. You can’t really blame him.

He’s got a gaggle of very protective knights around him, one of which he can vaguely hear trying to persuade another to commit regicide when no one was looking.

He has time to huff out a small laugh as Lancelot pulls him closer, before he drifts off; much quicker than he thought he would. He was comforted by the warmth behind him, the presence at his feet, the guardians watching over him, and the hand reaching towards him in the dark, just about close enough to lay fingers over Merlin’s heartbeat.

No nightmares plague him that night, and he doesn’t even wake to the warning growls sent Arthur’s way when he eventually returned to camp.

The next few days, hell, the next few months would probably be difficult, but he finds himself not as anxious now he knows he won’t have to face it alone.

THE END

I don’t think I’ll write a part two to this, but if someone wants to extend it, feel free, same as normal: credit and tag me :)

I’ve had the whole speech written out in full in my phone notes for like two months, but only recently got round to actually turning it into anything. I hope ya’ll enjoyed it!! I wanted to write something hella angsty so....

I’m fairly certain whatever I write next will be the dead opposite of this (FLUFF fluff) but honestly who knows.

Let me know if there’s anything specific you want my thoughts on :)

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imagineddworld · 4 years

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Spilling the truth

Pairing: Merlin x Reader

Summary: Your parents were good friends with King Uther, but had been killed. So other decided to take you in. But once you start spilling the truth, Merlin takes advantage of it.

word count: 3,5 k (3582)

You never liked the idea of having a maid, or standing higher up a rank than other people. You didn’t like being a royal. And surely didn’t like Uther’s way of thinking about certain things, such as magic or whom you may fall in love with. Royalty should stick with royalty. Total nonsense.

While the 2 years of your stay, you had developed a crush on a special boy, named Merlin. You had fallen in love with Merlin, the servant of Arthur. He had the dreamiest blue eyes, the sweetest smile and soft black hair. He was sweet, funny and very easy to talk with. You could be yourself around him, without your title of royalty being frowned upon. But if Uther ever found out about your little crush, or anyone in particular you would be doomed. He forbad any sort of relationships between royalty and their servants. Even if you didn’t saw yourself as a royal, Uther did. Everyone else did too. You hated the rankings of people, but you couldn’t do anything about it. It is something everyone was born with, wether you liked it or not. You were just lucky to be born into a royal family. But they had died two years ago. An enemy had attack your parents kingdom. Out of protection they had send you to safety, but failed to safe themselves. They fallen together with their kingdom and their village. They had tried to protect their people, but came to die doing so. That was the reason why you ended up here. Uther and your parents had been friends, or something close to friends. The news traveled fast and soon Arthur was asking Uther to take you in. The two of you had grew up together, visiting one another plenty of times, so you saw each other as a sibling.

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

Your maid helped you find a proper dress for dinner with Uther, Arthur and Morgana. She always knew how to style you. You thanked her a hundred times. You treated her as a friend. Never less than you. You always wanted to know her opinions and perspective on things. You truly wanted to get to know her. She was a very lovely girl, and deserved a better life than being just a maid. She was too pure and innocent to live such an unfair life. Sadly enough you didn’t had the power to give her a better position in society. So in the meanwhile you tried to make her life as good as possible. “Thank you so much, Elaia. You always pick the right dresses”, you said while hugging her to show your gratitude.

You quickly walked down the staircases to the Great hall were Uther and the others were expecting you. You greeted them elegantly, softly lifting your dress as you bowed down a little through your leg. “Good evening. Let’s get to the table, now you’re finally here”, Uther said, while leading the way. As you sat down in front of Morgana, your glass of wine was already full. You didn’t payed much attention to it, as Merlin was serving dinner. He carefully placed the plates with food in front of each one of you. As he came closer to you, to be able to place the plate in front of you, you felt your cheeks blush a slight pink. “Thank you”, you whispered to him, being the only one to actually thank him for his service.

Uther lifted his glass as a sign that we could start our dinner. I took a sip of my wine, which tasted a little odd. A bit bitter. But you brushed it off, since you didn’t liked wine that much anyway. It was probably just you. “So Morgana, what are your plans for this evening?”, Uther asked. She had started to tell a vague excuse, instead of telling him the truth. But who would blame her. Uther was very strict and didn’t allowed much. Only this time, you couldn’t stop yourself from speaking the words, you promised to keep hidden. “Probably sneaking out again, when everyone is asleep”, you mumbled. As soon as you registered what you just said, your covered your mouth with one of your hand as your eyes went round. Morgana had shot you a confused look, while a subtle grin had grew on her lips. “Excuse me?”, you heard Arthur asked. Clearly being as shocked as you. “Well, at least i am secretive about it. Can’t be said about you constantly staring at Merlin”, She replied back proudly. This time your mouth had fallen open. Shocked anyone even knew. Was it that obvious? You hoped Merlin hadn’t heard this, but too bad. At the mention of his name, his head had shot up. Clearly not expecting to hear his name in a sentence with those words.

“I think that’s enough”, Arthur said, before any further argument could start. He had a point. This was unnecessary. But you felt that urgent feeling of speaking again. It burned your throat. Before you even knew it, the words fell out of your mouth, like a waterfall of a high cliff. “Afraid that your secret will get spilled too? As if we don’t know what you do at night, and especially with who”, you had said too confidently. Immediately your hands covered your face, trying to shut yourself up. Why did you do this? Why were you suddenly so determined to tell the truth? What was happening to you? It felt like your mouth had a brain of its own. Whatever it was, it had ruined your friendship between you and Arthur.

As expected Arthur got up angrily and looked at you in a way he had never done. He was beyond furious. A rage filled and hateful glare was shot your way. He had opened his mouth to say something, but decided against it. He only shook his head while looking slightly at the ground. It felt like an arrow was shot right through your heart. You had such a close bond with him. He had trusted you with his secret, and in just a few seconds you had ruined not only yours but also his life. You didn’t know why you were spilling the truth. You felt so horrible. You didn’t meant to tell any of those things, but it was as if something was forcing you to tell the truth.

“Enough”, Uther yelled as he stood up with his hands still leaning on the table. “You are all dismissed”. As soon as those words left his mouth, you walked rapidly towards your room. “My lady, what is wrong?”, Elaia asked worriedly, seeing your saddened expression. “Don’t worry about it, Elaia. You can go home early today. I’ll be fine on my own”, you said, wanting to be alone for the rest of the day. “Are you sure, my lady?” You looked at the ground for a few seconds. You forced a smile onto your face: “How much i like your presence, i would like to be alone for a bit. I need to do some thinking. Besides it’s not fair to flood you with my problems, while you have so much of your own to cary. Go home, get some rest. Take one of my blankets and some food. I have more than enough”, You said while filling a bag with two of your blankets, some bread and some fruit. “Oh lady, I can’t do that”, she stressed. She always felt bad whenever you offered her something. She felt like taking advantage of you, due to being so close to you. But that was nonsense. You placed the bag on top of your wooden desk, as you searched for a small piece of paper. “Oh come on, surely you can. You are my friend. You have done so much already”, you said before writing down your note to one of your guards. It said you had given her permission to take those things to her home, as a gift from you. “Here take this”, you said as you placed the bag in her arms, while carefully placing the note into her hand. “Show this to the guard who has a little limp. He will let your through without any trouble.” With a little hesitation, she finally came into movement. She hugged you tightly, to show her gratefulness, while thanking you a million times. She carefully made her way towards the guard you had described to her. He was one of the survivors of the attack. He had been send with you, to protect you at all cost. He had knew other rules and had saw other perspectives back at your home, so he always gladly let Elaia slip past him with your little gifts.

You sighed deeply, while letting yourself fall onto the bed. You were finally alone. You couldn’t hold your tears any longer. You had ruined everything. Everything you had build up, was gone in just a few seconds. Every bond you had, was ruined by a few words fleeing your mouth as if it were nothing. You were sure Arthur would convince Uther to kick you out, or worse, kill you. He was the one who gave him the idea to take you in, so this would only be fair.

You were sobbing quietly for a few minutes already, when a knock on your door made you jump up. You wiped the tears from your face, while swallowing the tick lump that had formed in your throat. “Who is it?”, you tried to keep your voice steady, but the little cracks made their way through it. “It’s Merlin. Can I come in?”, he asked sweetly. He couldn’t see you like this. He had seen you cry before, when you had been forced to watch a villager get punished by Uther. But this time it was different. This time you looked pathetic, while crying like a baby. You had caused this, so you shouldn’t pity yourself. “Please, just leave me alone, Merlin”. He was quiet for a few seconds, thinking if it would be right to leave you alone in such a fragile state. “Please, can I come in?”, he pleaded again. But with no luck. “No, because you will distract me with your good looks”, you said ,unaware of which words were actually leaving your mouth. It had slipped out before you could register it. You sighed and fell with your face into your pillow. “Just leave, Merlin” you groaned, voice muffled due to the pillow. You hated your honesty. As if you didn’t made yourself look like a fool already.

You spend a good couple of minutes in silence, not being completely sure if he had left or not. A few silent tears had fallen onto your cheeks, as your mind started racing again. You felt as if you were slowly going mental. “Merlin”, you asked quietly. Not really knowing if you wanted him to be gone or wanted him still to be there. “Yes”, he replied. “Oh, you didn’t leave?”, you said somewhat surprised. You heard him chuckle lightly: “Nope, still here”. You flipped over onto your back, sighing a little of the heavy feeling that pulled onto your heart and crushed your chest. “I messed up, didn’t I?” Your hands rubbed into your eyes tiredly. “No, you didn’t. He knows well enough that you would never say those things on purpose”, you sighed hearing this. You wanted to believe him, but you doubted it. “He hates me”. The sadness and emotions could be clearly heard in your voice, which made his heart ache. He scoffed a little. “No, he doesn’t. He could never..”, he paused for a few seconds, thinking if he should say his following words or not. “How could anyone hate you?” You could sense his smile by how his voice sounded. “I don’t know, Merlin. I would never forgive myself, so why would he”. His comment had made a small sparkle appear, but the sadness was too much to bare this time. Even if Merlin didn’t saw your face, he could clearly hear your broken heart speak for its own. He softly knocked onto your thick wooden door, announcing he was going to come in. But he waited respectfully for you to show any refusal. As you didn’t made a sound, he slowly pushed the door open. He saw you laying onto the bed, all curled into a little ball while silent tears fell from your eyes. Your eyes were slowly getting puffy and red. His heart broke at the sight of you. “I don’t even know why I said those things. It was like I couldn’t control the words from fleeing my mouth”, you said while avoiding eye contact. He crouched down in front of you, softly laying his big hand onto your cheek. He softly caressed it for a few seconds, before he spoke:“Just as i thought, magic”. This time you didn’t avoid his loving eyes. “What?”, you were confused. You knew magic existed, but why would someone want to cast a spell on you. Also how would they have done it?

“Did you do anything different or ate something that tasted off?”, he asked. You thought for a bit. Nothing came to your mind that was out of it’s usual behavior. “I don’t think so”, you said while still searching through all the things you had done today, “Well, expect for my wine. It tasted a bit bitter, like an odd bitterness. But it was probably just me”. He nodded his head, taking in the information you just said. His eyes focused on the wall, while he slowly got swallowed into his thoughts. A small smile started to grow onto his face. “Well, let’s test it”, he said a little too excited. “What? NO”, you replied quickly , sitting up straight now. He softly tapped his fingers on his lips, in a way of thinking. “Hmm, what can I ask”, he thought out loud, trying to tease you a little. You sighed as you fell back with your back onto your mattress. He had a sparkle in his eyes as a bigger grin grew on his lip. “What do you like the most about me?”, he asked amused. He obviously remembered Morgana’s comment earlier at dinner. “No merlin, don’t make me do this”, you said while grabbing a pillow and pushing it onto your face. You wanted to shrink away. You bit your lip as hard as you could, while the feeling of speaking came again. It burned your throat and pushed down onto your chest. The feeling grew stronger the longer you kept yourself shut. You started to stomp a little with your legs onto the mattress, fists gripping the blankets underneath you. Due to your movement, the pillow had fallen from your face, next to your head. You softly shook your head side to side, still refusing to speak.

You heard Merlin laugh a little. He adored the way how you looked. Seeing you struggle to not tell him the truth, was cute to him. You were cute in general. He totally adored you. The way you cared for others, no matter their position in society. You didn’t had the typical mindset most royalty have. You were the kindest, sweetest and most beautiful person he had ever saw.

You couldn’t hold it any longer, it really started to hurt. You rolled over onto your front, leaning onto your elbows. “Well, you are funny and very easy to talk with. And god, you are breathtakingly gorgeous. Like your sparkling eyes and that damn smile”, you said, last part a bit muffled as you had lowered your face into the pillow again. You wanted to keep quiet but couldn’t. Once you had started talking it, you couldn’t stop. “Oh, I am flattered”, Merlin chuckled softly, which made you groan into the fabric. But because your eyes were closed, you had missed the slight blush that had crept onto his face. He kept laughing lightly, so you grabbed a pillow from besides you and threw at him. Obviously he caught it before it could hit him. He adored the way you were acting right now, all flustered and shy. Teasing you was one of the best ideas he had. “Hmm”, he said thinking of a new question. “Is true that you secretly stare at me?” You rolled over onto your back again, annoyed by his questions. “Ugh, yes”, you groaned while your hands covered your face. You should just accept your faith, and hope you soon would get kicked out so you wouldn’t need to rethink of this humiliation ever again. He chuckled at your quick reply, while he whispered a soft ‘Oh wow’ under his breath. He wasn’t laughing because of your feelings. He laughed because your behavior was cute to him. But it also way a way of coping with his anxious feelings, as he was risking to get his own feelings hurt, if you didn’t actually liked him back. He kept thinking someone was pulling a joke on him. As if you ever could possibly feel the same for him.

“One more question”, he said a little more nervous now. You sat up on the bed, your legs dangling over the edge of the mattress. “No please. No more questions. Isn’t this humiliating enough already?”, you asked him, finally being able to look at him. He was leaning against the wall, with his arms crossed over his chest. A loving smile covering his face. “Okay, I’m sorry. I’ll help you”, he said, pushing himself away from his position on the wall. He slowly made his way to you, grabbing your small hands to pull you onto your feet. You stumbled a bit forward, due to the sudden force. This caused you to bump into his chest. There were only a few inches between the two of you. You felt the heat go to your head, making it beet red. You tried to find a point to focus your gaze on, while you softly nibbled onto your lip. Nerves were overflowing you. In the meanwhile you didn’t realize Merlin’s behavior. He softly switched his weight from side to side. His hands started to tremble a bit. Breathing became a bit more difficult. He was focussed on his thoughts, trying to find the right words. He softly breathed out, making your shiver a little. “But before I’ll help, I must ask you something important”, he spoke softly. You swallowed thickly, not knowing why you were so shy all of sudden. “What.. what must ..that be?”, you stuttered a little. “Are you in love with me?” The words fell easily from his mouth. Shock overtook you. Your eyes went round, and your mouth fell a little open. You opened and closed your mouth multiple times, but no words came out. You were terrified, but what had you to lose? You had made a huge fool of yourself already, might as well admit it. “Yes”, you whispered, still not daring to look up. He probably would laugh in your face.

He was quiet for a little while, so you took this as a sign he didn’t felt the same. You slowly stepped away from him, making your way towards the door. But you got pulled back by your arm. He smoothly spun you in a circle, so you ended up chest to chest with him. You were so close to him that your noses slightly bumped into one another. You felt his warm breath on your skin, making goosebumps appear on that specific place. He placed one of his big hands onto your cheek, while the other softly laid onto your waist. He started to lean in a little, while you hesitated to follow him. But as soon as his soft lips ended onto yours, you melted into his touch. The kiss felt magical. As if finally all your feelings could fly freely into the air. He pulled you closer towards him, while your hands grabbed onto his shirt. This is what both of you had longed for. It felt like a huge weight had fallen off your shoulders, now you were in his arms. You felt safe. You felt like you were home.

As both of you parted away, you stayed cuddled close in one another’s arms. “Wow”, he said breathless while a huge smile grew brighter on his face. “If Uther ever knew”, you laughed, as you softly shook your head at the ridiculousness of his rules. “He won’t find out. I’ll promise you”, he said, kissing you again. Only this time more passionately, all his feelings were put into the kiss. As you pulled apart a second time, he playfully whispered in your ear: “Let’s get you cured, so our little secret won’t get exposed”. This made you hit him in the chest, as you pouted. He laughed at your childlike behavior. He wrapped his arms around your small frame, making your pout disappear as fast as it had came. You handed him your washing bin, before he could leave your room. “Don’t want to look suspicious, do we?”, you whispered to him, as you closed your door behind him. He smiled at you, still in disbelieve you actually liked him back. This was a day to never forget. Even if you had ruined so much, with Merlin by your side it’ll eventually would be alright.

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theroundbartable · 3 years

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Dragon Island (part 4)

Chapter 4: The unspoken sentence The boat followed the siren slowly. Leon's headache had lessened, but somehow, his urge to vomit grew even worse than before. The knight had the distinct feeling that it wasn't the siren's fault that he got paler and paler.

Not that Leon was worried much about his own well being. He wasn't scared of dying. Never was. What he was scared of was suffering. And he felt like destiny had decided he would have to suffer endlessly.The ship came to halt at an opening inside what looked like a mountain. This must be the cave that the expedition before them had found.

The opening was shallow and their boats were definitely too big to get through.“Sir Leon, what are your orders?”, Sir Elyan shouted from the steering wheel, while the rest of the crew made sure the ship would be bound to the shore safely.“Ready the side boats. Gwaine, Lancelot, Elyan and I will explore the cave. The rest of you, stay here.

If we're not back before nightfall, you have permission to send help to Camelot.”Leon heaved himself up. Lancelot, who must have noticed his condition, helped him over deck and get inside the boat.Elyan and Gwaine followed soon after. They wore softer, more suitable clothes for the travel, but they had their chain mail close to them, just in case.

At this point, Freya's head popped up before them, causing Gwaine and Lancelot to jump. Elyan grabbed his sword. Neither of them had known they had been following her.“Don't attack her, she lead us here.”, Leon stopped them with a wave of his hand, which he sooner rather than later had to hold up in front of his mouth. Not that there was anything for him to puke out anymore. He must have lost a few pounds during the entire boat ride. The other three exchanged a look.Freya smiled. “There is nothing to be afraid of. We are all friends of Merlin.”, Freya smiled gratefully at Leon, who looked at her in surprise.

He hadn't expected her to talk to them. Let alone to mention Merlin as the reason for her help.“Merlin?”, Lancelot asked curiously and leaned over edge of their boat. “You know him?” “I knew that boy had it in him.”, Gwaine grinned and winked at her. Then suddenly he grew uncertain and his grin turned into a frown. “If you hurt him, I will murder you.”, he growled, while Leon rolled his eyes at Gwaine's indecision how to treat her. Elyan just watched them all. He stayed silent. He observed.“Don't worry. Merlin is safe. I would never hurt him. Arthur and Merlin are already on their way to Senvilla. It's a town on Drakonier. You must know that the entrance to the island is closed for non dragon kin. If you have their favor, the gate will let you pass.But beware, the villagers do not take lightly to Uther's men. I'm asking you, leave your weapons here, do not appear as a threat to them. Then they might listen to you.”“That seems like a trap.”, Elyan commented warily. What else was he supposed to think? Invading the enemy territory unarmed? That sounded like madness.“He is right. Why would we trust you?”, Gwaine agreed.Freya tilted her head with a smile. “That is not the question. The question is, why would I trust you? As you seek war with the dragons? The dragons are allies of mine. I have no intention to betray them. Helping you, endangers the peace we have.”, she said and she obviously had a point.Three of the men exchanged glances. Leon could barely move his head, so he only flickered his eyes to them.

“I owe Merlin. And I trust that you will help him achieve peace with the dragons.”, she finally said and held her head high. “Do not make me regret this.” She was about to leave, when Gwaine suddenly held her by the arm. Her eyes seemed to hiss at him, as he did.“And how exactly are we to get through, if we don't have the favor of dragon kin?”, Gwaine raised his eyebrows in suspicion, but let go of her, as he realized she wasn't attacking. Rather, appeared to be frightened by his action.“You have Sir Leon.”, she said as though that was an explanation. And with a splash, she dove down and disappeared once again.“Leon?”, Gwaine muttered in surprise, but in that very moment, Leon hissed and collapsed over the edge of the boat. The headache had returned and it felt like it was splitting his head open.“Urgh.”, Lancelot growled annoyed. “Let's get him off the boat. Look, we can go on land there.”, he said and pointed in the direction right in front of them.Elyan nodded and started to row faster into the glowing cave. You know this place. From here, you could not see the route outside, or the sky or anything. But everything glowed. It was the same place Arthur and Merlin had washed ashore.With a grunt, they heaved Leon off the boat to lay him on land. It should take about ten minutes for him to calm down and for his headache to leave. It had worked back in Camelot.But you know... it was not the sea that made Leon sick. In fact, Leon wasn't seasick at all.

His headache worsened, as soon as he touched the ground and the moment he started coughing, blood splattered on the sand. Leon barely managed to breathe as his friends tried to touch him. They panicked, uncertain what the hell they were supposed to do, when suddenly, a figure with glowing green eyes approached them.They looked up and suddenly, they all realized that something had changed. The blue glowing markings had rearranged themselves. And there, all over the cave walls, was a word, that even non dragon kin was able to read. In bloody letters, glowing painfully red, it read: TRAITOR!Leon stared at the creature that emerged from the dark. While the knights grabbed for their swords, the tiny dragon locked eyes with Sir Leon. “It's about time, Hector.”Leon frowned. “Who?”, he asked, but then he started coughing blood once more. A second later, his vision faded to black.

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Morgana and Gwen had rushed to get out of the throne room as fast as possible, as soon as Uther and Gaius left.Now they were standing inside of Morgana's chambers. (Dressed differently than before as it was late night outside.) George, the servant, stood at the wooden table inside Morgana's room, taking out scrolls and books that he must have gotten from the library.“Why are we asking George for help again?”, Morgana whispered the question in Gwen's ear. “Because he's Leon's friend and I trust that he knows more about this than anyone else.”George's eyes flickered up at them. He had heard them clearly, but pretended he didn't. “My lady, these are the records of the purge against the dragons. And the records of all noble families that aided in the war against them. I hope this satisfies you.”“Very. Thank you, George.”, Morgana smiled kindly at him, but other than most servants, George's expression wasn't saying anything. He just nodded politely. Observant as always.“May I ask you, George, what does it say about Sir Leon's family?” Of course, they could read it themselves, but if George was already here...George's eyes narrowed. But he obeyed, as he looked into the records. “Sir Leon's father, Sir Hector Gordon Ornwald was an immigrant. The records do not say where he's from. But it says he played a big role in the war against the dragon lord's.

It says here, that he aided the king with information against their kin and killed dozens of them by himself. He married lady Elena Ornwald and kept her last name. Which is unusual for a knight.... However, they had a son and named him Leon. After lady Elena's father who died in the war.Sir Hector died a couple years into the war as well.”, George blinked with confusion. He held the peace of paper closer to his face to make sure he read it correctly.“What is it?”, Morgana asked, not even surprised by a single sentence so far. “Sir Hector was marked as a traitor in these records. And burned at the stake for sorcery.”, George ended the story.Morgana and Gwen exchanged a look. “That makes no sense.”, Morgana shook her head. “If Leon's father was a traitor. Then the entire family should have fallen in disgrace. But Leon became first knight. This doesn't seem right.”, she shook her head.“Sir Leon must have been two years old, when Sir Hector was burned. Lady Elena was the one who accused him of sorcery. At least that's what it says here. I suppose the king spoke a pardon for her then.”, George offered as an explanation.“Actually … there is something else.”“Does it say how Sir Hector offered his aid in the war?” “No. Nothing.”, George shook his head and took a deep breath. “It only says lady Elena was pardoned.” He hesitated to say the rest, because... that other part was too cruel. And it didn't seem right. It didn't seem right at all. He picked up the other book about the war against the Drakonier.As soon as he opened the book however, George's expression startled once more. For someone so composed, it truly got Morgana's and Gwen's curiosity. “What is it?”, Morgana asked.George shook his head. “It's just....”, he said and read the part again. “This book says, all dragon kin are immortal. No mortal weapons have proven useful to kill them.”He looked at the two women, as Gwen vehemently shook her head. “How has Sir Hector managed to kill Dragon lords, if they can't be killed?”“Furthermore...”, George looked up again, all hints of his usually held back personality gone all of a sudden. “Why is Sir Leon.... ”, he shoved the records towards Morgana who stared at them with absolute confusion. “... still alive? There, black ink on white pergament, was written a death sentence for a certain Leon Ornwald at the age of two. For being an associate of the known sorcerer Sir Hector Gordon Ornwald, he was to be burned at the pyre. The sentence, if the records were to be believed, had been executed accordingly.

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*Flashback*

There was a small island. Not far from the land were Camelot's kingdom blossomed in the early years of Uther's reign.

The island did not belong to Camelot. It was an independent island full of dragons, dragon lords and dragon kin. The latter meant the families of the dragon lords. Second and third sons (and so on) as well as daughters and wives and cousins, all of who were born without the ability to control or hatch dragons. They were simply called the dragon kin, as they were also creatures of magic. There was no edge to that title, as they were still more powerful than normal humans.Not every dragon lord had magic though. And not every dragon kin had magic. But there was a high chance that they did.But of course, the title of the dragon lord's made them noble by default. After watching Arthur's first interaction with the serving population, you may have an idea of how they treat those with lesser powers.Their island was at war with Uther Pendragon, who was already dead set on getting the world rid of dragon's, dragon lords and their kin. To the immortal population of Drakonier, however, it was a painful concern that their kind was actually threatened by this powerless man. Their lords died during these battles. Only the dragon's seemed to survive. And so far, nobody knew why or how their lords were harmed in the first place. As you see, even the lowest of their kin was supposed to be immortal.

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A young man with blond locks and a slightly familiar face, ran down the woods made of palm trees. In his hand, he held a small dragon. His green scales may seem familiar to you, as you have already gotten to know Ciril. The dragon in the boys arm is him. It is clear that he is weak, they way he lays limp in his arms. Not hurt, per se. Just exhausted beyond compare. His breathing is shallow and it's obvious that he's sick, the way his scales are falling off his body, leaving a small tray of color behind them.The man, maybe still a boy, ran with panting breaths. He stumbled over rocks and trees and his knee is already split open and bloody as he fought his way through the bushes and branches.They werer followed by boys within his age range. Two of them were sitting on dragons, much bigger than Ciril. Much more fearsome. One other sat behind one of them. He didn't have the power to control dragons, but he was the oldest son of a dragon lord. Which means, the chances were high that he would unleash his powers someday. Should his father die in battle. The other two have already lost their fathers. Any maybe they should be pitied, because they lost them, but the way they acted is not to be excused by that.They growl in the tongue of the dragons. And the dragons they sat on shake their heads, trying not to listen to their orders, but they followed the blond one anyway. Not that the dragons in question had a choice.The hunt came to an abrupt end, as the blond man fell over another branch and rolled down a hill. Right into another man who sat beside a river, fishing. There, on the other side of the river, you could see another familiar figure lying there, sleeping. It is Kilgharrah. He was free and he was happy and content with where he was. Because this is home.The two boys scrambled to their feet and the blond one was about to run again, when the other boy, whose face now came clearly into view, spotted the hunters. The boy looked familiar as well. But it's hard to tell who it was. He had black hair and blue eyes. But his face was round and youthful.“Ugh... again?”, he muttered and his voice sounded a little familiar in it's annoyance.“Caleb, Alex, Sentiell, can't you go bother someone else?”, The boy shouted. But the ones in the air just came to a halt and laughed. “Oh look who's here guys, it's the chance kid.”, they rolled their eyes. They were looking down on both of then. In their position, as well as their expressions.“Shut up and leave, before I tell Kilgharrah to take care of you.”, The black haired one crossed his arms. His sleeves were up and there were tattoos visible. Many many tattoos of dragon's graced his arms and even his neck.The boys on the dragon's frowned disappointed but also worried. As they looked at Kilgharrah and compared his size with their own dragon's. It was clear, why neither of them dared to pick a fight with him. “Come guys, we'll get him tomorrow.”, they said and turned their dragons around to leave. Barely, you could see Kilgharrah grin. Pleased at Balinor's actions.Finally, you can make out the blond boy's face. He looks younger, more nervous and more fierce and definitely a lot more chaotic than what we're used to, but he is the splitting image of Sir Leon.“Hector, are you alright?”, Balinor asked and hissed as he spotted Hector's bloody knee that was already starting to get an infection. “I'm fine.”, Hector replied as he walked over to the river and sat down, to stop shaking Ciril in his arms.“But Ciril isn't.”, he added and put him on his lap.“Are they hurt?”, Balinor asked and sat down beside him. Then he rolled up the leg of Hector's trouser and starts to clean the wound. It looks practiced, the way he started to clean it with plants that grow beside the river. They've done this before. Some of the scars on Hector's arms and legs are proof of that.“Mostly exhausted. They've ordered him to pick fights with chicken again.”, Hector mumbled and comfortingly stroked her tiny scales. Balinor frowned. “Monsters.”, he commented and it was obvious that he didn't mean the chicken.“They are worse than that.”, Hector growled. “They don't deserve their powers. All dragon lords are the same. They all use their abilities to make dragon's suffer. Because it's easy. Isn't it? They don't even see what they are doing. They're treating them like horses and dogs and even less than that.”, Hector growled with a hatred in his voice that makes Balinor pause.“I might be a dragon lord.”, he said quietly. It was almost a question. “And my father was one.”, he added, but went back to cleaning the wound. He was used to Hector's negativity. And his hatred. And Balinor was the only person who knew why Hector was acting this way. And he understood that. That's why he didn't take it personally.“No you're not. Your father may have been a dragon lord, but you're not the oldest son.”, Hector shook his head. “And your father was just as much of a bastard as these guys. SO... don't vouch for him. You're better than that, Bal.”Balinor sighed. “My father is still alive, you know? No need to talk in past tense already. Also, my mother lost an unborn child. Nobody knows whether or not they were a son or a daughter. So it's unclear, if I will be a dragon lord or not. I could be one for all we know.”“I bet with you it was a son. You are better than them. Don't get on their level, Balinor. They're all assholes. You're lucky Kilgharrah only listens to family members. Or else they would have made him bite your head off.”“Not all dragon lord's are like them.”, Balinor muttered defensively, but Hector scoffed. “They're all the same. They're the scum of the earth. They don't deserve the immortality they use to torture other they think below them.

And we're all taught to treat them like nobility. Noble is who acts noble. Not because you're born with more powers than anyone else.”Balinor sighed once more, then he took Ciril out of Hector's lap to give him water from the river to drink. Ciril barely managed to open his mouth, but he does eventually and when he drank, he fell asleep almost a few seconds later. Without uttering a word, Kilgarrah lifts a palm over the river and Balinor carefully lays him into it. Kilgarrah flares his nostrils at the smaller dragon and a wave of magic passed over Ciril, before he reeled his paw in and protectively shielded the smaller dragon with it. The dragon's breath was a healing sort of breath. The same that Kilgharrah would use later to heal Merlin from the serket sting.“Maybe I should phrase that differently.”, Balinor took a deep breath and turned to face Hector. Hector's face is covered in bruises as well. “Not all dragon lords are like your brother and father.”Hector scoffed again, but he contained himself. “No. They're just the worst of them all.”“Did he hit you again?”, Balinor asked and put a comforting hand on Hector's shoulder. Hector looked down. “He still blames me for our fathers death. Just because I told him that a true dragon lord would defend our dragons and would fight that bastard of a king.” Hector's anger suddenly melts away and he grins amused. He laughed even, as he ran a hand over a particularly old scar. It looked like the bite of a dragon. “I mean, he's not wrong. It IS my fault.”Balinor's hand slipped away as he took in the expression. The expression that spoke of malice and anger and revenge. Successful revenge. Hector looked proud, satisfied. Not regretful. “What are you talking about?”, Balinor asked. Because he knew his friend and he knew something was off. Hector wasn't the type who blamed himself for anything and he didn't seem like he did anyway. “It's not your fault he died. He went to defend his country. That's not your fault!”, Balinor tried to comfort him. Hoped that he was wrong and there was unreasonable regret in that voice, but Hector's smile widened into a grin.“No. That part is not my fault. I just send that coward to do his job. But... There is a reason why he lost his immortality, you know.”, Hector's giggled at the thought.Balinor stood up, and backed away slowly. There should be no way that Hector would know why dragon lord's had lost their immortality. Or how. This didn't sound right. It didn't sound like Hector. “What did you do -”

There had been rumors that Uther Pendragon had found a way to kill immortals. That he had developed weapons that could kill their kind. But the way Hector spoke, Balinor got a very bad feeling about this.Hector laughed and even Kilgharrah looked uncomfortable where he witnessed their interaction. “No. Uther is merely a fool, Bal. It's my fathers own fault really. You know how I don't heal as fast as I was supposed to? Since, you know, I should be immortal too? Like all dragon kin? I'm not. Not anymore. And that's his doing.”, he looked angered again, as he balled his fist.Balinor nodded slowly, but also slightly scared.“Yeah, I figured, that that started the day my father made Kendris bite me. It's funny, you know? Dragons cannot kill Dragon lords on their own will. But their venom can take away our immortality and our healing abilities. I just.... slipped some of it in my father's last drink before he left. I didn't think it would actually work.” Hector's eyes glistened with mirth as he barked out a laugh. “My stupid brother made the same mistake.”Balinor started to pant with disbelieve. “Why would you -”; he said and shook his head. “Hector, you wouldn't-”Hector stood up as well now, ignoring the injury on his knee.“You think they are the only one's I did this to? ALL dragon lords should share this fate. They're getting too powerful. Uther may be a horrible king, but at least he understands what powerful monsters these dragon lords are. He's helping me. They torture dragon's for all eternity. This shouldn't be their always! You understand that, right? You'll help me right?”“Hector. My father is sick. You didn't -”Hector laughed. “Of course I did.”, he looked mad, the way his grin broke into full on laughter and he got even closer to Balinor. “Don't worry, you're safe from me, Bal. I made sure of it. As long as you stay my friend. Now, what do you say? Will you help me get rid of these pests to safe the dragons?”

*Flashback ends*

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One of the funniest thing, I – as the author – observed about Arthur's feelings, is that the prince was still uncertain if Merlin understood all he had said.It may sound ridiculous, but Arthur was still unsure, if he had shown his affections for Merlin clear enough. After all, Merlin had not yet responded to the love confession that Merlin WAS aware of. So, Arthur ridiculously concluded, he hadn't been obvious enough. After his talk with Gwaine, Arthur assumed that the level of which he expressed his affections, was still below Merlin's.In a way, he was right, as he stood up that morning, completely on edge as to how Merlin would talk to him from now on. But the morning had, once again, painted over the mysterious effect the night had on the human heart and cured Arthur's overly emotional behavior. Merlin as well, seemed normal at first. He insulted Arthur, Arthur insulted back and their entire dynamic went back to normal. Or so it seemed.Arthur didn't know what he had done wrong, but he was certain he must have done SOMETHING wrong.

It was like nothing at all had changed. Well... actually, that wasn't true at all. Because Merlin was still nervous around him. The jokes were the same, but since the magic confession, it didn't seem like Merlin was quite done with hiding.Despite the fact that Arthur had accepted him, he had used no magic in front of him. He had talked nothing about his past and Arthur felt like Merlin was still scared about something. Still worried.He didn't really look at Arthur. Even if he faced him, his eyes betrayed him and Arthur felt strangely avoided.“Merlin, you don't seem alright.”Maybe it would have been wise to ask, if Merlin was alright first. But Arthur already knew the answer. Plus - that the man in question would lie to him about it.It was morning was still young and Ciril had come to wake them, so they would head of in the direction of Senvilla. To meet with the dragon kin and maybe a few other dragons. Arthur didn't trust the dragon at all. Because well.... she seemed rather suspicious, with how unsuspicious she appeared to be.Now she was just flying ahead of them and not bothering to listen to their conversation.“I'm fine.”, Merlin replied, as Arthur had expected. “I know, you're not, Merlin. There is no point in denying it. I understand that you're still … unsure about what you told me yesterday, but -”“That's not it.”, Merlin shook his head with a slight smile. But his tense shoulders betrayed him. “You don't understand. That's not all I've been hiding.”, Merlin finally looked at him with desperation. “I want to tell you more.... everything.” Merlin took a deep breath.

“I just don't know where to start.”“Merlin, it's fine. It's a lot. Take your time.”, Arthur put a hand on Merlin's shoulder as they made their way through the forest that wasn't quite a forest.Merlin huffed a small laugh. He almost snorted, actually. “Oh well. You have no idea.”Somehow, that stung again. Because Merlin was averting his eyes once more. And Arthur felt how his hand lost the grip on Merlin's shoulder. For the first time, actually not for the first time Arthur could remember, it was Merlin who was completely closed off. The last time he had been like this, he had been sulking for three days and Arthur still wasn't sure what it had been about.

It was like when Arthur opened that wall around him, Merlin couldn't bear it and pulled his own up instead. A much bigger and much more massive force than what Arthur had protected himself with.And that, right after sharing such a huge secret with him. Had Arthur not reacted correctly? Had he done something to make Merlin afraid of him? Had he come on too strong? Or not strong enough? Arthur didn't know what it was to be the comforting friend. He didn't know what he was supposed to do. And he felt like he was loosing Merlin little by little, if he let things continue this way.So Arthur did what he always did. Something that Merlin was used to and that Merlin knew how to deal with. Because running after someone wasn't Arthur's fortune. (He always ended up in traps or drowning or something.) Arthur was the prince of Camelot. All he really knew, was how to give orders.And of course, there was an annoyed edge to his grumble. A roll of his eyes. Of course he bumped Merlin in the shoulder, because the guy was getting too emotional.

Arthur was shit at these things. But it seemed to clear Merlin's head and remind him where they were and who he was talking to.Merlin actually protested with an “ow”, as Arthur's elbow made him stumble into the next palm tree. “What was that for?” Had Arthur gone too far? For a second, Arthur feared for the worst, but then he saw that faint grin on Merlin's face that he always wore when he thought Arthur being an ignorant prat. Which he was. Because that was what he was best at. So, Arthur didn't answer, he just grinned at Merlin and walked ahead. Pretending not to care that Merlin had to follow up.“Hey, wait for me.”“You're holding us up, Merlin. Just hurry up already.”And there it was finished. Arthur's secret method to deal with situations he had no clue how to deal with. It worked every time. At least, Merlin was laughing once more.

Mission accomplished. --------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------------------------------- First<< Previous < Masterlist > Next

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swanqueeneverafter · 4 years

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Sins of the Past Pt.6

Camelot. Past. Forest. Night. (With the help of Arthur, Morgana and Mordred have successfully escaped the castle grounds. After riding a short distance, they meet the Druids in the woods.) Iseldir: “We are forever indebted to you, Morgana Pendragon, for returning the boy to us.” Morgana: “You must not let it be known that it was I who brought him to you.” Iseldir: “We will tell no one. You have my word.” (The Druids turn to leave.) Morgana: “Wait, please! I need your help. There have been incidents… I fear I may have…“ (Morgana is unable to say the words.) Mordred: (Telepathically to Iseldir:) "She is like us. She holds great power.” Morgana: “Did you hear that? (To Mordred:) How did you do that?” Iseldir: “We don’t always need words to speak to one another.” Mordred: (Looks to Iseldir, who nods. Holds out his hand to Morgana:) “Now I can take care of you, like you did me.” (Taking the boy’s hand, Morgana allows herself to be lead deeper into the woods, towards the Druid’s camp.) Storybrooke. Swan-Mills House. Present. (Emma prepares breakfast in the kitchen when her phone rings.) Emma: (Answering:) “Hey, Lily. What? Seriously? No, of course I’ll cover you. (Disappointed:) Yeah, I’m coming in. Bye. (Hangs up:) Dammit.” Bedroom. (Placing the food-laden tray on the bed, Emma walks over to the bathroom and opens the door.) Emma: (Calling out:) “Gina, I’ve got to go in to work. Lily’s been called to Arendelle.” Regina: (From the shower:) “What?! (Turns off the water:) Today’s your day off.” Emma: “I know, but Lily’s covered plenty for me since the baby and- (Regina pulls back the glass partition to glare at Emma in all her naked, wet glory:) Oh, Jesus.” Regina: “Get Hook to cover you. God knows he likes playing cops and robbers lately.” Emma: (Averting her gaze:) “They can’t find him. Lily thinks he went on some drunken bender with Rumple.” Regina: (Muttering:) “I knew those two becoming best pals would bite me in the ass someday.” Emma: (Glancing at her wife then quickly closing her eyes:) “I’m sorry. (Backing out of the room:) I’ll try to be back as soon as I can.” Regina: (In a softer tone:) “Emma, look at me.” Emma: (Opening one eye slowly:) “Oh, you don’t play fair.” Regina: (Pressing herself up against the glass:) “Are you sure you have to go?” Emma: (Her mouth suddenly extremely dry:) “Yes. (Closing her eyes tightly shut again:) Yes. I’ve got to, I’m sorry. (Emma turns and leaves the bathroom, immediately stubbing her toe on the armoire, which causes the sheriff to hop on one foot. Losing her balance, Emma falls backwards, making just enough contact with the bed before hitting the floor to send the food tray toppling over on top of her:) Great. Just great.”

Storybrooke Free Public Library. (Mulan gently deposits Merida on a makeshift cot at the back of the library.) Belle: "Wouldn’t the hospital be a better place to take her?” Mulan: (Shaking her head:) “You know how delicate the political landscape in Dun Broch is. If anyone gets word that Merida is sick, there’ll be a power struggle.” Belle: “So you brought her here?” Mulan: (Holding up the petal:) “This was in the goblet she drank from. Anhora claims to have no knowledge of how it got there, but I know you’ll have a better idea than Whale of what flower this came from.” Alice: (Feeling Merida’s forehead:) “She’s burning up.” Belle: (Taking the petal from Mulan:) “Fetch Alice some water and a towel.” (Mulan nods and does as she’s told while Belle pulls out a book.) Alice: “Is she going to be alright?” Belle: “I won’t know until I can identify the poison.” Alice: “Her brow’s on fire.” Mulan: (Returning:) “Here. Keep her cool; it’ll help control her fever.” Wonderland. Morning. (Will is asleep against a tree as the sounds of chopping can be heard.) Will: (Jumping awake as a branch lands on him:) “What the bloody hell!” Ella: “Oh good, you’re up.” Will: “What are you doing?” Ella: (Continues practicing her swordplay on a defenseless tree:) “I’m getting ready. I’m a bit rusty.” Will: (As another tree limb goes flying:) “There. Now you’ve gone and hurt the tree. Happy?” Ella: “I’ll be happy once we find my mother. We need to get moving. We’ve been in Wonderland for too long. Our enemies know we’re here.” Will: “Our enemies? Who would they be?” Ella: “Excellent question. (Holds out her hand:) Come on. (Pulls Will to his feet:) I have a plan, Will.” Will: “Of course you do.” Ella: “Our biggest problem is we don’t know where my mother is. She could be trapped somewhere, or captured.” Will: “Look, is there any chance of a coffee? I can’t really think until-” Ella: (Continues:) “But then I realized we don’t need to know where she is.” Will: “Oh, we don’t?” Ella: “Because we know something. Something nobody else does.” Will: “I’m not sure you’re clear on what the word ‘we’ means.” Ella: “Come on, Will. Time to get going.” Storybrooke. Dragon’s Lair. (While Xena sits picking the olives off her pizza, Henry sits talking with Gabrielle about writing.)

Gabrielle: “The best advice I can give you is to write what you know.” Henry: “But that’s just it. I’ve already written everything I know. I was ‘The Author’. I’ve written three storybooks. I even wrote my own happy ending and still…” Gabrielle: (Nods:) “Retirement not turning out to be all it’s cracked up to be huh?” Henry: (Scoffs:) “I’m working more now than I ever have.” Gabrielle: “Some would argue that’s not a bad thing. For the longest time traveling with Xena, all I wanted was for her to find a sense of peace. For us to settle down somewhere and grow old together. But now, since coming to this land where everyone seems to have found their place in the world… I don’t know how to put it into words. It’s like-” Xena: “It’s god-damn irritating is what it is.” Henry: (Turning towards her:) “Thank you! (Xena nods before devouring her pizza:) Everyone around here seems so settled and happy. Meanwhile Ella and I are still struggling. I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s great that everyone’s together and at peace but-” Gabrielle: “You feel like you’re playing catch up to everyone else’s happiness?” Henry: “Honestly, sometimes? Yeah.” Wonderland. (Ella and Will travel through the forest. Ella uses her sword to cut through the tree branches as Will follows a short distance behind.) Ella: “Keep up, would you? We’re making good time.” Will: “You’re thinking about what happens if we find her?” Ella: “When. When we find her.” Will: “What if it’s nothing like you thought?” Ella: “Meaning?” Will: “Well I just think to protect yourself, you should consider the possibility that things may be different. You’ve been apart a long time.” Ella: “My mother is waiting for me. She needs me.” Will: “Then why hasn’t she contacted you?” Ella: “The only reason she hasn’t contacted me is because she must be in trouble. That’s why we need to pick up the pace.” Will: “Or she’s moved on.” Ella: “Not a chance. Nothing will get in the way of us being together. (They finally come to the end of the tree line:) Except possibly this. (A large lake sits before them:) I suppose we could swim across.” Will: “No, we can’t.” Ella: “If you’re afraid of dangers lurking beneath the surface, I can handle-” Will: “I can’t swim.” Ella: “How have you lived your whole life and never -” Will: “I was doing other things.” Ella: “Like what?” Will: “Like being afraid of water. When Alice almost drowned in that frozen lake, it was the last time I got anywhere near the water.” Ella: “Fine. We’ll just have to wait for the ferry.” Will: “How do you know about the ferry?” Ella: “Alice told me.” Will: “Hm. Or better idea, we walk around it.” Ella: “Walk around the entire thing? That would take two days at least. We’re taking the ferry.” (Ella walks onto the beach and begins to clap.) Will: (When Ella glares back at him:) “Oh, for…” (Will joins her on the beach and together they begin clapping. In no time at all, Ella spots something in the distance and waves.) Ella: “There she is. Over here, Fairy.” Silvermist: (Landing before them:) “I am the fairy Silvermist. Where may I… I.” Will: “Heya, Silv. (She slaps him:) How’s it going? (She slaps him again:) There it is.” Ella: “I take it you two know each other?”

Silvermist: (To Will:) “Awfully bold of you to show your face in this part of Wonderland. Do you know how many people are looking for you?” Will: “Might be easier to figure out how many aren’t.” Silvermist: “You think you’re funny?” Will: “I think I’m buggered no matter what I say right now.” Ella: “Perhaps you two might continue reminiscing while we make our way across the lake.” Will: (Whispers:) “I think we have to walk.” Silvermist: (Composing herself, to Ella:) “Not at all. I’m happy to take you.” Ella: “The both of us? Are you sure?” Silvermist: “Of course. It’s my job, and I’m a professional. I don’t let feelings get in the way of my work, especially old feelings that I’ve completely moved on from.” Ella: “Okay. Thank you very much.” (Ella nudges Will in the side.) Will: “Yeah, thank you very much.” Ella: “Excellent.” Silvermist: “Don’t worry. You can trust me. I’m here to help.” (Waving her wand and showering them both with fairy dust, Silvermist turns and heads over the water, Will and Ella flying through the sky behind her.) Camelot. Past. Morgana’s Chambers. Day. (Servants clean up the burnt fragments and glass scattered across Morgana’s floor.) Guinevere: “I came back in with some extra blankets. There was a candle, but I put it out.” Uther: “Are you sure?” Guinevere: “I blew it out, I swear.” Uther: “She could’ve been burnt alive.” Arthur: “Lightning struck the castle roof last night, that could’ve started the fire.” Uther: “No, this was no accident.” Arthur: “What other explanation is there, My Lord?” Uther: “Last night my daughter attempted to return the druid boy to his people and this morning I find her window broken and the curtains torched. The answer is simple. The Druids saw Morgana as easy prey. They used their powers to break into the castle, retrieve the boy and take my daughter hostage. (To Arthur:) We’ve long suspected that the Druids are hiding in the forest of Essetir. Take no prisoners. It’s time we rid ourselves of these Druids once and for all.” (Uther leaves. Guinevere starts to protest when Arthur stops her.) Arthur: “Listen to me. You must leave, find Morgana and warn the Druids. I cannot go against Uther’s orders. I’ve done all that I can. It’s now down to you to save them, Guinevere.” Druid Camp, Morgana’s Tent. (The Druid leader Aglain enters.) Aglain: “I trust you slept well?” Morgana: “Better than I’ve done in days.” Aglain: “Here, this might make you feel more at home.” (Aglain hands her a druid cloak.) Forest. (Leading the King’s soldiers, Arthur pursues Morgana’s trail with dogs.) Druid Camp. (Aglain walks with Morgana.) Aglain: “They are surprised to see you here, if not a little afraid. Your father would have us killed.” Morgana: “They have nothing to fear from me. I do not share Uther’s hatred of magic.” Aglain: “No. I imagine you wouldn’t. These forests are dangerous. What brings you so far from Camelot?” Morgana: “I’m searching for answers. I hope the Druids might be able to give them to me.” Aglain: “Come.” (Aglain ushers her into his tent.)

Aglain’s Tent. (Guinevere sneaks into the Druid camp and listens in on Aglain’s conversation with Morgana.) Aglain: “What would you like to know?” Morgana: “Why I can see the future in my dreams. Why I’m able to start fires with my mind.” Aglain: “People who are able to do this are few and far between. You have a gift.” Morgana: “Is it magic?” Aglain: “Of a kind, yes. But it will be many years before you’re able to understand it fully, let alone use it. This isn’t something to be afraid of.” Morgana: “It is if you have Uther as your father. If he found out, lord only knows what he’d do.” Aglain: “He won’t.” Morgana: “But if he did…” Aglain: “We won’t let that happen. You’re safe here. You shouldn’t be scared of Uther. You should pity him.” Morgana: “Pity? Why?” Aglain: “Because he’s a broken man, consumed by fear. His hatred of magic has driven goodness from his heart.” Morgana: “I’ve always been taught that magic is evil, that it corrupts your soul.” Aglain: “Uther told you this. Just because he decrees it, doesn’t make it so. In time you will learn that magic isn’t a dark art that must be shrouded in secrecy. It can be a force for good.” Storybrooke. Present. (Emma pulls into a seemingly abandoned alleyway in a police cruiser. Getting out of the car, she looks around before reaching through the window for the radio.) Emma: "Sheriff Swan calling base, there’s nobody here, are you sure this is the right place.” Regina: (Stepping out from around the corner:) “Oh, I’m sure, Sheriff.” Emma: “Nevermind. (Replaces radio:) We got an anonymous tip there was a ‘street walker’ down this alley. I’m guessing that was you?” Regina: (Smirks:) “You didn’t think there would be an actual street walker in my town, did you, Sheriff?” Emma: “Well, now that you mention it… where’s Maria?” Regina: (Leaning against a chain-link fence:) “I got a call moments after you ran out of the house this morning from Anna of all people. She apologised for messing up our plans and offered to take Maria for a few hours.” Emma: “And you let her?” Regina: “She said I would be doing her a favour. It seems her ice-farming husband needs a little warming up to the idea of having kids of their own.” Emma: “Speaking of warming up. (Stares at Regina:) You look incredible.” Regina: (Smiles:) “Seeing as you were so eager to go to work, I’d thought I’d stop by and make sure you do your job.” Emma: “Do my job? (Regina nods:) Well as far as I know, there’s no law against looking sexy in a public place, Madam Mayor.” Regina: “No? (Running her hands down her sides, slowly draws up the bottom of her dress to reveal her black stocking tops before drawing a familiar pair of red panties down over her thighs and stepping out of them, much to the Sheriff’s delight. Holding them up:) How about now?” Emma: “Is that my underwear?” Regina: “Mmhmm. By my count that’s theft and indecent exposure.” Emma: “Oh I see nothing indecent here and since we’re married, what’s mine is yours anyway.” Regina: “Is that right? Hm, well I guess... (Begins to climb on to the hood of the car:) I’ll just have to get more creative.” Emma: “So you want me to arrest you, is that it?” Regina: (Nods:) “Mmhmm.” (Regina turns her body so that she is now sitting on the hood of the car, allowing Emma to stand between her legs.) Emma: “In that case, you have the right to remain silent. (Regina wraps her legs around her waist:) Although I really wouldn’t object to you screaming just a little bit. (They begin to make out:) Anything you say, (Kiss:) can be held against you.” Regina: “Mm you promise?” (Regina’s hands travel to Emma’s jeans and unbuckles them, lowering them to her knees.) Emma: (Feeling Regina’s hands running over her body:) “Oh God, we can’t do this here. Hold on to me.” Regina: (Now sucking Emma’s neck:) “Not a problem, Sheriff.” (With some difficulty, Emma lifts Regina into her arms and walks, or rather waddles, towards the back of the car. Somehow opening the door, she manages to gently deposit Regina in the back seat and close the door. Pulling up her jeans as she hurries around to the front of the car. Emma gets behind the wheel and turns on the engine.) Emma: “I’ll radio ahead and tell everyone at the station to take an early lunch. (Looking to see Regina perform a few more public indecencies in the back seat:) Good God woman, control yourself! Better let people know to get out of my way. (Flicks on the siren:) We’re coming in hot!”

Storybrooke Free Public Library. (With Ruby having now joined them, Alice & Mulan continue to care for Merida while Belle searches for a cure.) Belle: (Finding something:) “Ah. The petal comes from the Mortaeus flower. It says here that someone poisoned by the Mortaeus can only be saved by a potion made from the leaf of the very same flower. It can only be found in the caves deep beneath the Forest of Balor. The flower grows on the roots of the Mortaeus tree.” Alice: (Pointing to a picture of something:) “That’s not particularly friendly.” Belle: “A Cockatrice. It guards the forest. Its venom is potent. A single drop would mean certain death. Few who have crossed the Mountains of Isgaard in search of the Mortaeus flower have made it back alive.” Mulan: (Intrigued:) “Sounds like fun.” Ruby: “Mulan, it’s too dangerous.” Mulan: (To Belle:) “If I don’t get the antidote, what happens to Merida?” Belle: (Reading:) “The Mortaeus induces a slow and painful death. She may hold out for four, maybe five days, but not for much longer. Eventually she will die.” Mulan: “I won’t fail, I promise you.” Ruby: “Well you’re not going alone no matter what you think. Look what happens when I let you have all the fun.” Mulan: (Smiles, to Belle:) “We’ll find the antidote and bring it back.” Camelot. Past. Forest. (Arthur and the guards reach the woods near the Druid camp and see the smoke from their fires.) Arthur: “Remember the King’s orders! (Hesitantly:) No prisoners!” Druid Camp. Morgana’s Tent. (Guinevere enters.) Morgana: “Guin! What are you doing here?” Guinevere: “I’ve come to take you back to Camelot.” Morgana: “Then I’m afraid you’ve had a wasted journey. I’m never going back.” Guinevere: “I’m sorry, but you have to.” Morgana: “Why? You’re the one who said I should seek out the Druids.” Guinevere: “I never realised what the repercussions would be.” Morgana: “What repercussions?” Guinevere: “The King thinks you’ve been kidnapped. He won’t stop until you’re found. He’s arrested dozens of people. He’s gonna execute them all.” Morgana: “If I return, the same fate awaits me.” Guinevere: “Uther doesn’t need to know about this. I won’t tell a soul.” (Arthur and guards approach the camp.) Morgana: “I’m sorry. I’m never going back. These are my people. They’re like me. I don’t feel so alone here. Do you understand?” Aglain: (Enters:) “Morgana, we must go. Who are you?” Morgana: “I–it’s alright, she’s a friend. What’s wrong?” Aglain: “Arthur and his men are coming. Your friend has led him straight to us.”

(The Druids run, trying to escape Arthur and the guards. Arthur sees Mordred and Aglain helping Morgana run away.) Arthur: “This way!” (Guinevere runs with Mordred, Morgana, and Aglain through a rock valley.) Aglain: “We’ve got to keep moving!” Morgana: “My ankle, I think it’s twisted. It’s too painful!” Guinevere: “I’ll try to create a diversion.” Morgana: “No, Guin, you can’t!” Guinevere: “You carry on! It’s my fault they’re here! Go! Go!” Morgana: “I’ll never forget this.” (Guinevere picks up a large tree branch and uses it to dislodge some precariously positioned rocks, causing a blockage in the path. Pulling up her hood, Guinevere runs.) Arthur: “There!” (Arthur pursues the hooded figure. Guinevere jumps and hides under a protruding rock. Arthur and his men jump right over her. Guinevere runs back. Guards spot Morgana’s party anyway.) Guard: “Over there!” (Morgana slumps to the ground.) Morgana: “I can’t go on.” Aglain: “We’re not leaving you behind.” Morgana: “Please.” (Morgana faints.) Mordred: “They’re coming!” (Aglain is shot with a crossbow. Mordred runs.) Guard: “Arthur! We have the Lady Morgana!” (Mordred runs, but is surrounded by guards. Guinevere stops running and watches Mordred use his powers to throw three guards backwards then run off into the distance.) Storybrooke. Present. Sheriff’s Station. (Anna, with baby Maria in her arms, enters the station.) Anna: “We’re back, Emma. You can call Regina now and tell her you’re coming-” Lily: (Entering the room:) “I think she already knows.” (Directing her attention towards the cells, Lily smirks as Anna gasps and covers the baby’s eyes.) Anna: “-Home.” Emma: (Emerging from a jail cell, sheepishly:) “Hey. Did you guys have any luck?” Lily: (Peeking around Emma to get a look at her cell mate:) “Not as much as you it seems.” Emma: (Standing to block her view:) “I meant did you manage to find a singer for Elsa’s party?” Lily: “Yep, and by mutual agreement, which is rare for us.” Anna: “Not that rare. I mean okay we don’t agree on everything, but neither do me and Elsa and she’s been my sister a lot longer than you have.” Emma: “Not officially.” Lily: “Cool it, Emma.” Regina: (Stepping out of the cell with a handcuff dangling from one wrist:) “We’re glad we could help.” Anna: (Staring at Regina’s bare legs, catches herself:) “Ah, yeah. Well this is yours. (Awkwardly hands Maria to Emma:) And we should be going.” Emma: “Oh no, you guys stay, we’ll go. (Over her shoulder to Regina:) You got everything?” Regina: “And then some. (Smiling to Lily and Anna:) Feel free to call us, anytime.” (With a wave of her hand, Regina poofs herself, Emma and Maria out of the station, leaving a blushing Anna and a very amused Lily in their wake.)

#sq #swanqueen #swan queen

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