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ismelinor · 2 years ago

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A Dustland Fairytale (1/12)

Read on AO3 | tagging @today-in-fic

Chapter 1: The Starting Line

The castle was stunning – teeming with life. She could see why Missy had come here; she always cared about the ‘energy’ of a place, or the aura, or something. Scully was more focused on tangible things, like whether everyone wanted her dead.

It was, admittedly, odd for her – a magic user – to come looking for sanctuary in Camelot, but after the…incident back home, she didn’t have much of a choice. The only place her mother could think of to send her was Camelot, where she might find a home with an old family friend, Walter Skinner, and pursue her dream of becoming a physician under his guidance.

There were, of course, two tiny issues with this plan: first off, magic was banned in Camelot – and Scully practically breathed magic. She knew her magic was made to heal, and sometimes it got a little over-eager. That was how she’d gotten herself into trouble in Ealdor – a few bones set or aches eased could be explained away easily enough: the townspeople knew she read every apothecary’s book she could get her hands on. But then she’d seen the little Turner boy – being born blind was a death sentence in a farming town like theirs – and her heart just broke. She so wanted him to be healthy and safe that her magic let loose. She had no idea how she did it – no idea if she could do it again – but everyone saw the light leave her and wrap itself around the babe like a blanket. When the light faded, the boy’s eyes opened, blue and bright where they had been glassy and…well, Scully didn’t get to see what happened next because she’d been tackled to the floor by Farmer Andrews screaming bloody murder.

Her parents had managed to talk the villagers down from handing her over to King Cenred, but only on the condition that she’d stay far away. And though she was sad to say goodbye to her family, she’d always yearned for more – more than collecting the eggs every morning; more than sitting around waiting until some farmer ten years her senior decided she was good enough to marry; more than a woman in a small village could ever hope for.

That led on to the second tiny problem. She was a woman, and this world was not kind to women. She did not believe what her brother Bill said, that women were made to stay at home, to look after children and mend socks. Nor did she subscribe to her father’s belief, that she had a man’s mind in the body of a woman. Women were just as capable as men of being great thinkers, great fighters, and great leaders. But that didn’t change the fact that it wasn’t safe for a woman to travel alone, or that nobody would agree to train a woman to be a physician.

So, in true Scully fashion, she combined her two problems to come up with a solution: she’d use her magic to disguise herself as a man – that should be enough to get her safely to Camelot, and there she’d convince Skinner to take her on as an apprentice and do her best to hide her magic.

That might, she thought as she looked between her outstretched hand and the man levitating six feet above the ground, be easier said than done.

~~~

She hadn’t meant to startle the man, but when she’d entered the apothecary, she hadn’t even realised anyone was in there. Scully was looking around curiously – or, rather, nosily. She’d never seen so many instruments or strange plants, and she’d been leaning over to get a closer look at an oddly shaped vial over the fire when she’d knocked into a chair. There was a loud scraping sound, followed by a shout of surprise, and then a man she hadn’t spotted before was falling backwards from the top of a ladder – and she’d flung her arm out without a moment’s hesitation to stop his fall.

She lowered him to the ground carefully, and he turned to look at her, eyes wide with surprise. He was bald, a little younger than her mother perhaps, and his expression of shock was already morphing into one of exasperation. Yes, this must be Skinner.

“Er…I apologise, sir. I didn’t mean to startle you,” Scully tried after a long moment.

The man stared at her in disbelief. “What in the name of the gods were you thinking, boy? Don’t you know sorcery is punishable by death in Camelot? They executed a boy your age just this morning for conjuring a flower for a girl. If anyone had seen you-”

“Nobody saw me except for you, sir, and my mother has sent me to you because she remembers you as a friend to magic.”

Skinner rubbed his forehead. “I will not turn you in, since you may well have saved my life, but there are no friends to magic in Camelot – or if there are, they don’t live long. Do I make myself clear?”

Scully nodded.

“Your mother sent you to me? Why?”

“I want to train to be a physician, sir. I’ve learnt the basics: wound dressing, collecting herbs, a few poultices…but I’d like to learn it all. Anything you can teach me.”

Skinner squinted at her. “What’s your name, child?”

“Scully, sir. My mother is Margaret and my father is William.”

“Scully is the family name. What is your given name?”

Scully shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny. “Danyl, sir.”

“Lying does not make for a good first impression, boy. Margaret and William have two sons: one named for his father, and one for his uncle, who is my brother by marriage. Neither, I imagine I need not tell you, is named Danyl. So who are you really?”

Scully sighed; this was not going particularly well. She dropped the glamour and heard Skinner’s sharp intake of breath. “Dana, sir. I am their youngest daughter. But please, sir, I know I’ll make a good physician – I’m a fast learner and a hard worker.”

She saw his expression soften a little. “You’ll not cause me any trouble? I get enough of that from the prince.”

She nodded eagerly.

“Fine. I’ll clear out the storage room for you to sleep in, and in the meantime, you can make yourself useful. Take this. It’s a sleeping draught for the princess; I’ll show you how to make it later. Go down the steps, across the courtyard, and up the stairs directly opposite. And no trouble. Understand?”

“Down the steps, across the courtyard, up again. Got it.”

~~~

Scully made it at least twenty paces out of the apothecary before finding trouble, and she figured she should get some credit for that.

But as she stepped out into the courtyard, she heard a cry of distress. It came from a boy cowering behind a shield, running along one side of the square as a group of knights jeered at him. One of them was throwing daggers at the shield; his aim was good, Scully could admit, but it was an absurdly dangerous game, and the poor boy was shaking. She strode over and stood in front of him, glaring at the knights.

“You’ve had your fun; leave the boy alone.”

The knight who had been throwing the daggers walked over to stand in front of her, laughing. She felt the anger rising in her chest – she couldn’t stand bullies. The man was tall; Scully suspected that he was one of those men who used his size to intimidate others. Well, she wouldn’t be intimidated.

“We were only having fun,” the man said, grinning obnoxiously.

“I don’t think he was having fun,” Scully replied, jerking her head at the boy behind her.

“C’mon, they’re only training daggers! They’re not sharp enough to hurt anyone, are they, Tommy?” he sneered at the boy, who Scully could now see was actually a man – older than her, certainly.

The man, Tommy presumably, mumbled something under his breath and scurried away. Well, a thank you would have been nice.

Scully turned her glare back to the man in front of her. “Training daggers or not, you could have hurt him. Grow up.”

The man looked down at her sardonically and said, “That’s rich, coming from you.”

Scully stepped closer, returning his stare. “Only a small man uses his size to intimidate. Besides, I dare say I could take you down a peg.”

The man leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, “I could have you in the stocks for that.”

Scully scoffed. She may not have been from these parts, but even she knew that squires didn’t have that sort of sway, no matter how highly they thought of themselves. “Who do you think you are, the king?”

The man grinned. “No, I’m the prince. Mulder.” He stuck out his hand, as if they were making polite introductions.

Now, there were two sides to Dana Scully. One was a woman who followed the rules – didn’t like people who broke the rules – who did as she was told, and who bowed to authority (at least, when she believed in the integrity of that authority). She was a logical young woman, and she saw the logic in keeping out of trouble. But she hadn’t yet grown out of the righteous fire of adolescence, and she had another side to her: a reckless side. It’s what had led her, more than once, to do something she shouldn’t on a dare from one of her brothers. It’s what led her to stand up for this squire, when it would have been wiser to avert her eyes.

As she stood in front of the prince, staring at his proffered hand, the two sides of her were at odds. She knew, logically, that he could well have her put in the stocks for what she’d said. She knew, logically, that her best bet was to apologise. She knew, logically, that rejecting a handshake from a prince was not a good start to her career in his court.

But her whole spirit rebelled against it. This man was grinning – laughing at her – and, prince or no, he’d been tormenting a boy barely out of the schoolroom.

She put her hands on her hips, glared up at him, and said, “Respect is not a birth right, and I do not shake the hands of men I do not respect.”

Two of the knights who’d been egging the prince on made to grab her, but the prince waved them off, still with that infuriating smile on his face.

“No, no, let the boy go. I’ve rather enjoyed not being respected. It’s always educational to experience something new.” He winked and led the knights away, leaving her flushed with anger.

~~~

Scully was still fuming by the time she reached the royal quarters. She wondered if the princess would be as arrogant as her brother – though she was starting to worry she’d never find out. There had to be thirty rooms in the royal quarters, which were build like a maze besides, and Skinner had given no indication of which belonged to the princess.

She caught sight of a blond head, barely visible behind a pile of sheets.

“Excuse me!” she called out.

The boy blinked and scurried over. He reminded Scully of a puppy, somehow – over-eager and panting a little.

“Hello, I’m new to Camelot, and I’m looking for the princess’ chambers. I have something for her from the court physician.”

The boy smiled. “Of course, I’ll take you there. My name’s Pendrell, by the way. I’m the king’s manservant. If you need any help settling in, or, or, directions around the castle, I’m your boy – man!”

Scully smiled and followed him down the corridor. “Thank you, Pendrell, that’s very kind of you. I’m Scully; I’m training to be the physician’s assistant.”

Pendrell chattered on eagerly, and seemed almost disappointed when they reached the princess’ chambers. “Here you are, then. I hope I’ll see you around soon.”

Scully gave him a wave, which he tried to return before remembering that he was carrying a load of laundry.

She looked at the princess’ door and sighed. Frankly, she’d had enough of stuck-up nobles for the day. She’d never been one to cower from a task that needed doing, though, so she stepped up and knocked firmly.

“Enter.”

She did so, and looked around the room in awe. She’d never seen a bed so large, or so many fine things in one place: books, candles, jewellery, beautiful dresses, a maid arranging flowers by the window. And standing in a shaft of sunlight, as handsome as any of her fine things, was the princess. She had a pretty face and a kindly smile which put Scully at ease immediately.

She curtsied. “My lady, I have a tincture for you from the court physician.”

“Danes?” Was that-?

The maid in the corner span around – and, yes, it really was her! Missy, in the princess’ chambers, wearing a maidservant’s dress far finer than anything either of them had worn back home.

“Missy!” Scully forgot the princess entirely as she wrapped her arms around her sister. She clung on desperately, feeling Missy’s tears on her shoulder.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me, Melissa?” Scully jumped back at the princess’ voice.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, my lady. Here,” Scully said quickly, handing over the tincture. She’d only left Skinner’s quarters three candle-marks ago and she’d already made a scene in front of two royals. This was probably not what he meant when he told her to stay out of trouble.

Missy brushed a tear from her eye and said, “Oh no, it’s my fault – only I was so surprised to see you. Samantha, this is my-” she cut herself off, looking at Scully’s apparel uncertainly. Of course – Missy could see through the glamour, but she was still dressed in Charlie’s tunic and slacks.

“I am Melissa’s brother, my lady. My name is Scully, and I’m training under Skinner to be a physician.”

The princess looked over at Missy with an affectionate smile. “Well, any relation of Melissa’s must be a friend of mine. She’s an angel, as I’m sure you know. I must go and speak to my father, but please make yourself at home here, Scully. I’m sure the two of you have lots of catching up to do."

Scully curtsied as she swept out of the room, and then Missy’s arms were around her again.

“Oh, Danes, you have no idea how much I’ve missed you. But what are you doing here? Why are you pretending to be a boy?”

Scully told her tale – from healing the Turner boy to seeking out Skinner – but when she got to her run-in with that awful prince, Melissa only laughed fondly.

“This squire, was he brown-haired, broad? A little thuggish?”

“How did you know?”

“His name’s Tom. He’s Sir Colton’s son, and he’s a real piece of work. Mulder saw him hassling me this morning – telling me how good he is with his sword – ugh. You know the type. The other maids and I are used to that sort of thing – there’s nothing we can do. But the prince always puts them in their place. He makes sure they know they’ll pay, even if the king wouldn’t do anything.”

Scully had to begrudgingly admit that the prince might not be all that bad.

Missy grinned. “And he’s cute too, don’t you think?”

Scully sniffed. “I didn’t notice. I was distracted by his arrogance. His sister is much nicer. Prettier, too.”

“Oh, she’s not his sister. She is very pretty, though.”

“She’s not? I thought she was the princess.”

“Well, she is. Her father’s the king. He married Prince Mulder’s mother after the last king died, maybe ten years ago now.”

“So which one of them will take the throne when their parents die?”

“Samantha. It’s a strange story, actually. Back when Mulder’s parents were king and queen, they tried for years to have a child, but couldn’t. Spender was royal advisor back then, and a close friend of the king, so they agreed to name his daughter heir. Samantha was only two years old then. But almost as soon as she was named crown princess, the queen found out she was pregnant. Of course, it was too late to reverse the process, so they couldn’t have their son as heir.

“Is he bitter? Prince Mulder, I mean?”

“No, I think he’s glad, really. Court politics wouldn’t suit him at all. Mulder is…not like the princess. He’s too fiery to sit on a throne and mediate land disputes all day long. Mulder’s always running off on some odd quest or other – it drives the king mad.”

“Does he get along with the princess?”

“Oh, yes. They’ve always been close – partners in crime. Like Charlie and me.”

“Perhaps they’ll marry, then. The whole heir business wouldn’t matter in that case.”

Missy looked thoroughly put off by the idea. “Oh no, I don’t think so. They’re practically siblings. No, I hope not. I hope not.” She was emphatic, and Scully wondered if her sister might have a personal interest in the question. She had called Mulder cute, after all. Well, prince or no, Scully would kill him if he messed Missy around. Or castrate him, at the very least.

“Enough about these nobles. How did you end up here? Last I heard, you were living with Ellen out in the lower town selling charms. Look, I’ve kept mine all these years,” she said, pulling it out from under the collar of her tunic.

Missy smiled. “Now, I know you don’t believe in destiny, Danes, but that’s the only explanation. Ellen had just had her baby, and coin was short, so I said I’d bring my charms to the citadel where some wealthy merchants would be sure to buy some for their wives and mistresses. But along the way I was attacked by bandits – they didn’t hurt me, but they took all my charms – months of work. I couldn’t go back to Ellen empty-handed, and give her another mouth to feed. I was totally distraught, thinking I’d have to get back to Ealdor, somehow, when the princess came across me crying. I had no idea who she was, but she had the sweetest aura I’d ever seen, and I told her everything. She said it would be alright, took me by the hand, and brought me to the castle. She let me sleep on the pallet in her antechamber, and in the morning she told me she’d spoken to the queen, and I could be her maidservant if I liked. I’ve been here ever since, and I’ve never had a cruel word from her, or from the prince.”

Scully looked at her shrewdly. “But you have from the other nobles? The king and queen?”

“The queen is…not a cruel woman, but she is cold. She chooses not to see how her people suffer under the rule of her husband. Her own son, even. But, Dana,” here, she lowered her voice, “The king is a bad man. Ruthless. He will kill you if he discovers your…talents. You cannot be safe here. Are you sure this is what you want?”

“I’m sure, Missy. And I’ve always wanted to be a physician: now I can. Wouldn’t you call that destiny?”

Missy smiled, a little teary-eyed. “Oh, well you’re still my baby sister. I’m glad I can at least look out for you here. Why don’t you come with me to the feast tonight, and I’ll tell you who everyone is, and who to avoid.”

~~~

That was how Scully found herself standing rather awkwardly against the wall of Camelot’s banquet hall. If she’d ever taken the trouble to imagine what a feast fit for nobles would look like, which she hadn’t, she would have been pretty close: enormous piles of food, freely flowing ale, ruddy-cheeked lords pinching at panicked serving girls – Camelot had it all.

The only aspect that didn’t quite fit her vision was a travelling bard, welcomed as a special guest by King Spender. Scully had imagined bards to be young, energetic and spritely men – surely the job demanded such – but this bard was greying and tired-looking. His song was slow and soporific, and Scully found herself leaning more and more heavily against the wall.

And then she realised she wasn’t the only one: there was Prince Mulder, struggling to keep his eyes open, and Skinner resting his head on a hand, and Missy falling against the princess’ shoulder. Scully clamped her hands against her ears the second she realised what was happening. This was bad. The entire court of Camelot was drifting to sleep before her eyes. She had to stop that song.

She looked over at the bard, who was staring right at her. The first thing she noticed was his sad, sad eyes. He stopped his song and the silence in the hall was suffocating.

“You must be Scully,” the man said slowly.

Scully stared at him. “How do you know my name?”

He smiled sadly. “I’m sorry to cut your destiny short, child.”

At the front of the hall, the royal family were blinking awake. The king was muttering something about magic and the dungeons. Scully took a step closer to them, though she had no idea what the bard intended, or what he meant by her destiny.

The bard moved to the centre of the room, followed by a whirlwind of tablecloths and papers. “King Spender, you are a tyrant and a madman. You sentence men, women and children to death with a wave of your hand, but no understanding of what death means. I will teach you what death means.”

King Spender stood and slammed his hands on the table. “Guards! Arrest him!”

The bard flicked his hand and the guards struggled against invisible restraints. “You cannot hurt me more than you already have, you foolish man. You killed my son. My only child. Do you remember his crime?”

Spender twisted his mouth distastefully. “If I had him killed, he must have been a magic-user. All magic-users are corrupt. He deserved to die, just like you.”

The bard laughed hollowly. “He had no magic. He pulled a flower from his sleeve – a sleight of hand, to impress his sweetheart. One of your knights saw and cried magic because you have created an empire of fear and mistrust. But your empire is built on legs of sand and I will bring them down. A life for a life. A son for a son.”

It all happened so quickly. Barely a second, in which the future hung in the balance: Scully saw the flash of silver as the bard plucked a carving knife from the air whipping around his head, and before she knew what she was about, she was diving across the hall to knock Prince Mulder flat. As they hit the floor, she heard the impact of the knife burying itself in the wall behind the prince’s chair.

She looked down into the prince’s wide eyes, an inch below her own, and for one moment – despite herself, despite everything she believed in, and everything she didn’t – she saw her destiny in his eyes. And then she heard the bard being tackled to the floor and remembered herself; she rolled off Prince Mulder’s body and scrambled to her feet.

The hall was in chaos. Lords and ladies were clinging to one another, the king was yelling, and the bard had been knocked out on the floor. The uproar only subsided when the guards dragged the bard out of the hall.

The king looked over at her, eyes narrowed and mouth twisted. She tried not to flinch. “You saved the prince’s life,” he stated.

Scully glanced over at Skinner, unsure if she was expected to respond.

“This warrants a reward,” he declared in the same imperious tone. “You are trustworthy, I suppose.”

Scully opened her mouth but couldn’t think of what to say. Skinner replied for her: “The boy is trustworthy, sire. I can vouch for him; he’s my nephew.”

She’d won Skinner’s loyalty, at least, if he was willing to lie for her.

“Then you will be rewarded with a position in the royal household. You will be Prince Mulder’s manservant.”

Scully and Mulder had matching expressions of horrified disbelief.

“Sire,” said Mulder stiffly, “I have no need of a manservant.”

The king waved his hand dismissively. “You are a prince, and it’s time you started acting like one. You will have a manservant.”

Mulder clenched his jaw but said nothing.

Scully looked over at Skinner, who only shook his head.

The remainder of the meal was strange, to say the least: the king announced that the sorcerer would be executed the following day, which was followed by raucous applause, as if a grieving father’s death were a cause for celebration. Mulder and Samantha, to their credit, sat through it stone-faced – though in the prince’s case, that could have been lingering moodiness from the dreadful affliction of being given a personal servant. The life of a prince must truly be a trial.

As for her, Scully stood by Missy’s side in silence, wondering how on earth she was going to survive as manservant to the prince of Camelot. Beyond the fact that she knew nothing about serving, she couldn’t exactly keep a low profile, tending to the whims of a royal. And Prince Mulder, whatever his faults may be, did not seem to be a stupid man – how long could it possibly be until he figured out she was a woman – or, worse, a magic-user? Yes, she’d be the next execution ordered and these pot-bellied, wine-addled nobles would cheer her away to the pyre.

It was with that comforting thought that she drifted off to sleep on her first – and perhaps last – night in Camelot.

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pendragonsclotpole · 1 year ago

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Arthur: Sometimes I dream of leaving Camelot.

Gwen: Really? Where’d you go?

Arthur: I don’t know. Somewhere where nobody knew who I was. Get some land and become a farmer.

Arthur: Obviously I’d take Merlin with me.

Two sides of the same coin.

Journey home

#merlin #bbc merlin #arthur pendragon #merlin bbc #merthur #merlin fanart #merlin quotes #merlin s3 #merlin season 3

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camelotsheart · 3 years ago

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4x12 and 4x13 is so fascinating to look at from a merthur perspective because I consider it a commentary on the concept of a Merlin and Arthur who tries to abandon their destiny.

At that point, Arthur is at his absolute low. He feels like he's been betrayed by people he once loved, he feels like he's disappointed the kingdom that he puts has put his heart and soul into building. Arthur only ever wanted to become king because he loved the people of Camelot and thought they loved him (and they do). So when he thinks they don't want him anymore, when he feels like his dedication to his kingdom only resulted in betrayal, he releases his position.

And up till that point, Merlin is the only person who hasn't disappointed him. We talk about how beautiful Arthur's vulnerability is when he says "you're the only friend I have and I don't want to lose you" - but that's not true. He does have friends other than Merlin. The people of Camelot love him. But at that time it feels like Merlin is the only one who does.

And it's fascinating to notice that the thing which in the end sets Arthur off is the fact that Tristan berates him for not being kingly because he 1) saves a servant and 2) is willing to get his hands dirty by collecting firewood. Arthur is frustrated because he's being criticised for showing care to the only person he truly cares about at that point. And the part of getting his hands dirty reminds me a lot of what he said in 3x10.

ARTHUR: Sometimes I dream of leaving Camelot... Somewhere were nobody knew who I was... I’d get some land and become a farmer.

GWEN: I can hardly see you toiling away in the fields all day.

ARTHUR: Obviously, I’d take Merlin with me. He can do all the hard work.

How I see this parallel is as follows: Arthur gives up Camelot - the thing that has only brought him hurt - and turns to his dreams of escapism as a farmer, which includes a life with Merlin as the only person he truly cares about at that time. And from what I see, this parallel is further explored in the form of Tristan and Isolde, because they are basically a metaphor for a Merlin and Arthur who have given up on their destiny to live their own lives.

Tristan and Isolde showed how even if Merlin and Arthur decided to leave, they could never have escaped their destiny because they care too much about others.

Arthur “cares about his people more than he cares about himself”, and nothing needs to be said about Merlin’s love for people. Even if they had both “promised not to involve [themselves] in other people’s wars”, like Tristan and Isolde had, their conscience would eventually catch up to them. Just as Tristan and Isolde ended up fighting alongside Arthur because they came to believe in him.

Tristan is very protective of Isolde, and Isolde knows this; she’s the one that convinces Tristan to trust Merlin and Arthur even when Tristan has a hatred for royalty because they never helped when his whole village was killed. Isolde is the only person that Tristan truly cares about, and it takes a lot for him to even start trusting Arthur. He is desperate in trying to protect Isolde, and even though he initially succeeds in saving her, his fears come true. Isolde dies before they can ever achieve their dreams of buying a piece of land and settling down.

And Arthur, too, never achieves his dreams. At least the one that involved a quiet life on a farm. But what he does achieve is building a life with Merlin. Or more exactly, building a kingdom.

The thing is, Arthur didn’t really regain his confidence when he pulled Excalibur from the stone. That night, he was still walking around with an introspective mood, as if perplexed why the sword thought him worthy. But the morning after Merlin tells him that he believes Arthur will unite Albion and create the greatest kingdom the world has ever known, Arthur jokes to Merlin “I thought you had faith in me”, which is beautiful because that transition is almost saying that Arthur found his worth through Merlin’s constant unyielding belief in him.

And from that point on, particularly in season 5, Arthur always looks to Merlin when he wants to decide how to govern his kingdom. He does this during his final confrontation with Odin, he does this when he asks “is that what you’d want?” and “what should we do?” when discussing the returning of magic to camelot in 5x05, he does this when he goes up against the ghost of his father, he does this when deciding what to do with Mordred and Kara. Continuously, Arthur asks to Merlin - Is this the kingdom you want?

Why? Because Arthur decided that the only way he could repay Merlin’s loyalty to him was to bring about the kingdom Merlin dreamed of. The kingdom Merlin believed Arthur would build.

Arthur retook his kingship for Merlin.

Arthur built Camelot for Merlin.

#bbc merlin #merthur #no i'm not okay. i'm spiralling way too hard #merlin #arthur pendragon

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astranix · 3 years ago

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ARTHUR

Sometimes I dream of leaving Camelot.

GWEN

Really? Where would you go?

ARTHUR

I don't know. Somewhere where nobody knew who I was. I'd get some land and become a farmer.

[Gwen laughs.]

GWEN

I can hardly see you toiling away in the fields all day.

ARTHUR

Obviously I'd take Merlin with me; he can do all the hard work.

GWEN

I'm sure he'd love that.

(s3e10) THANK U SO MUCH FOR THIS ARTHUR PENDRAGON

(source) i don't know what to say but im sure u see where im going with this

#i can't believe he didn't even mention gwen!!!! maybe it's implied but ???? he uses 'i' . HIM . alone . with merlin #bbcm #bbc merlin #arthur pendragon #merlin #merthur #merlin x arthur #merlin season 3 #please nobody ask me how i came across this article #nix.bbcm

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earlgreyinpajamas · 3 years ago

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hey! hope you're doing okay - could you please do a rec for merthur scar reveal/showing each other old injuries? thank you xx

1. To Be So Loved by Loremaster64

For Whumptober2021 NO.16 Just A Scratch/ Bleeding/ And Scars

Arthur bandages Merlin and finds a scar from long ago

~~~

them reminiscing on their memories long ago makes me feel so uwu

2. Marks by paintedpigeon

Arthur glances at his body briefly as he passes the mirror to dress. And then he notices something that makes him stop dead.

His soulmate has another injury.

Merlin's constantly getting injured, and Arthur won't stand for it any longer.

~~~

i am a fan of injury sharing soulmates, and this story is just sweet.

3. tell me what it’s like to conquer, tell me what it’s like to burn by stqrkolmes

“Sometimes I dream of leaving Camelot.”

“Really? Where would you go?”

“I don't know. Somewhere where nobody knew who I was. I'd get some land and become a farmer.”

A gentle story about what could have happened if Merlin and Arthur had left Camelot together.

~~~

arthur's reaction to merlin's nimueh scar makes my heart melt.

#merthur fanfiction #merlin x arthur #merlin fic #merthur #bbc merlin #merlin #merthur angst #merthur fic #merthur fanfic #merthur fic rec #merthur fic recs #scar reveal #merlin fanfic #merlin's magic revealed #once and future husbands #once and future otp

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warriorprincesstramp · 2 years ago

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sometimes I dream of leaving camelot. I'd get some land and become a farmer. obviously I'd take merlin with me.

#😐😐😐😐😐😐😐😐#merlinposting

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livvyofthelake · 3 years ago

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so. sometimes arthur dreams of leaving camelot and becoming a farmer. and “obviously” he’d bring merlin with him. first of all that’s the gayest thing he could have said on his date with a woman. secondly. it’s giving. you know i had this crazy idea after graduation we’d move to new york and you’d be a writer and i’d be this musician….

#why did he say all that.#merlin liveblog

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aftertheskyy · 4 years ago

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Percival

“Your enemies are my enemies.”

Finally got to the ask. So. Let’s talk about Percival. (these are just my headcanons)

Percival came from an unknown, lowly village- nothing special, sort of like Ealdor. A couple chickens, small plots of land- the kind of place where everyone knows everyone.

He always wanted to do something more than live the farmer life, but when he met the woman who later became his wife, he was ready to push all his dreams aside to make her happy.

They had a daughter- her name was Isabel and she had the blondest hair in the whole village.

Dad! Percival...he devoted his life to Isabel. Carrying her on his shoulders, teaching her how to swim in the nearby lake...

While Lancelot was away from Camelot, he stumbled upon this hamlet of a town

I like to think that Percival and his family took him in immediately- they were happy to serve Lance, giving him food, shelter, and ultimately, a new home.

In return, Lancelot taught Percival how to fight and use a sword

Lancelot and Isabel also grew close - you could sometimes find the knight teaching her how to read or to make swords out of sticks (she sometimes joined her dad and Lancelot in the field)

When the immortal army attacked his village, he and Lancelot were out in the fields, practicing.

Percival wasn’t able to rescue his wife or daughter.

And he still feels the guilt about not being able to save them

With nothing left for him in the village, he leaves with Lancelot to meet up with Arthur

Lancelot gave Percival one of his chainmail suits- this is why he doesn’t have sleeves

Lancelot laughed, making a joke about Percival’s arms

He liked the look, though

After Lancelot died, Percival kept the chainmail and wore it sleeveless to honor him

Percival wasn’t able to have a long mourning period since the battle was coming and they all needed to prepare

But when everything was over, Percival and Lancelot made two gravestones in the woods next to Camelot- that way, his wife and daughter were never far from him

Over time, he began to forgive himself and see that it wasn’t all his fault-but the scar is still heavy on his heart

The knights became his new family- especially Gwaine

Gwaine had suffered great losses as well, and I think they bonded over it

When he was in the mine thingy (I still don’t know what that was), he was glad that Gwaine was the one beside him. They grew a lot closer during that time, but even in the darkest moments in the caves, Percival thought about Isabel and his late wife

He reminded himself that he was a knight because of them and could not throw it all away for Morgana’s bidding

It was during their mining when they talked about their pasts- Percival had mentioned his wife and daughter before, but Gwaine learned everything about them in the mines

At night, Percival would stay quiet, thinking about the life he had before.

Gwaine was always there to comfort him

When he got out of the caves, he and Gwaine left with a much stronger bond between the two of them

And that’s when Gwaine started to see his friend as something more

Percival was extremely conflicted at first- he didn’t want to betray his wife’s memory...but here was Gwaine, right in front of him, with his cheeky attitude and loyal spirit...

He was confused about his feelings for Gwaine (I was married to a woman, he thought constantly. During this time period, he avoided Gwaine during training and practice. But over time, he realized that he loved Gwaine back)

It helped when he saw the way Merlin and Arthur looked at each other

He knew the king was head over heels in love with his servant, but never said anything

He knew Merlin felt the same

And he knew that he didn’t want to be hiding his feelings for Gwaine the way Merlin and Arthur were hiding their own feelings for each other

So Percival and Gwaine started to become close again around the time Mordred showed up

When Gwaine died...Percival broke

He and the other knights were family, of course, but Gwaine was different.

He had already lost so much...his wife and Isabel, his entire village. Elyan and Lancelot...

So Percival returned to Camelot with Gwaine in his arms, ready to congratulate Merlin and Arthur on their victory, only to find out that his king was gone, too.

He left Camelot for little bit after just to clear his mind and to try to find the peace he had found at the Round Table

It was just too much to try and stay there. Too painful, too soon.

Sometimes he would find himself in another village, not sure how he got there, trying to tell himself that it was all a bad dream and he’d wake up soon.

Some months later, he returns and serves Camelot once more at Gwen, Merlin, and Leon’s sides, becoming Leon’s right hand man

Percival trains all the new knights, teaching them exactly what Lancelot had taught him.

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