#AND STILL WALKING WITH THAT PRINCE ARTHUR PRAT ENERGY

[scarfandsword]

hiiii i finally got to bradely james in vikings valhalla and i'm deceased the momment he spoke i was screaming i am incoherent and inconsolable over this king arthur i am seeing

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Pushed Around

Prompt: i looooooove you protective knights Merlin drabbles from over quarantine, the frantic energy of these large children fretting over Merlin is hilarious and so precious (': would you ever write your take on the classic "a visiting knight/noble is a dickwad to Merlin but he doesn't tell anyone bc of either worries of diplomacy or something else and then when Arthur and the knights do find out they have to have a serious chat w Merlin about his priorities and self-worth?" bc,,, it would be awesome

Thanks for the req! I do love this trope...

Read on Ao3

Pairings: merthur, but can be platonic or romantic, you decide

Warnings: uhhh nobles can be dicks

Word Count: 3372

The problem with Merlin is that he doesn’t say nearly enough for all the talking he does. Honestly, the man can ramble on for hours and hours without being interrupted and never say one word about himself. He’s spoken about how Arthur sits wrong for longer than a council meeting for goodness’ sake. And yet in all that time, he’s never said a single thing about himself.

 It would be impressive if it didn’t get them into nearly so many stressful situations that could’ve been avoided had he asked for help.

In fairness to Merlin, servants asking for help from anyone other than fellow servants isn’t exactly normal. In unfairness to Merlin, when has ‘normal’ ever been very high on his list of things to strive for?

 They’ve all gotten fairly used to it. Merlin will be doing something and one of them will notice that perhaps there’s a…better way to do that. Or perhaps he’s doing it with a little less skill or proficiency than he normally does and gods, Merlin, how long have you been hurt for? Merlin will shrug and smile sheepishly at them and say that it’s nothing to worry about. Only Gaius seems to be immune to that, raising the Eyebrow of Disappointment and Merlin will bow his head and let him tend to whatever he’s done to himself this time. The problem is Merlin seems to know this and does all he can to avoid doing these things in front of Gaius. Which leaves the rest of them to struggle frantically to keep track of Merlin while he’s frantically keeping track of them.

 But they’ve gotten used to it.

 Arthur is allowed to be an absolute prat—Merlin’s words, not his—in the mornings, insisting Merlin do all sorts of ridiculously elaborate chores to assess whether he’s hurt himself, whether something’s wrong, or whether he’s done something to upset Merlin more than tossing the occasional boot at him. If Merlin doesn’t snipe back or calls him ‘sire’ unironically, something is definitely wrong and everything is on pause until they fix it. No exceptions.

 Leon, as the closest thing to Arthur’s right hand aside from Merlin, takes every opportunity to stand next to him, regardless of how proper it is. Leon may not be immune to Merlin’s impish little excuses, but Merlin is not immune to the protective-older-sibling looks Leon gives him or the gentle way Leon arranges his cape so that Merlin looks even more inconspicuous behind the copious amounts of red fabric. Leon never says a word, and Merlin would never admit it, but there are times when, if you looked at them from behind, you would see Merlin reach out to clutch Leon’s cape and Leon reach to hold his hand.

 Percival is not a small man. Anyone standing opposite him better think very carefully about whatever they’re about to fight over. Odds are it won’t be worth it. Often all he has to do is stand up and they’re babbling apologies or excuses. Merlin, on the other hand, is a slight man who looks as if he’s always about two seconds from tripping over his own feet. Percival makes sure to stand in front of him.

 Elyan has a way with words. Not that he’s the most loquacious speaker, nor the most forceful, but he’s got a voice that makes people listen. It’s not Arthur’s authority, nor it is Uther’s unmistakable iron, but it is a quiet power. Oftentimes, people don’t seem to respect Merlin. Some go so far as to refuse to remember his name. Elyan’s never had a problem making them see reason.

 Gwaine is not known for being discreet, nor is he especially reserved in demonstrating that he’s here for Merlin, not for Camelot, not for Arthur, but for Merlin. Sometimes Merlin just needs a little reminder that he’s worth fighting for, and not just because he’s fighting for something bigger than himself.

 Lancelot is the only one that can actually get Merlin to talk, reliably. The man can see through Merlin’s nonsense in a way that rivals Gaius. Unlike Gaius, Merlin won’t fight him on it. It’s difficult to get Lancelot to tell the rest of them, despite what he’ll have you believe. But if Merlin looks a little happier afterward, then it’s all fine.

 So yeah, they’ve gotten used to it. What they haven’t gotten used to are the people that go out of their way to make life for Merlin harder.

 “There’s another tournament?” Merlin huffs as he throws the blanket over Arthur’s bed. “Didn’t you just have one?”

 “That was a joust. This is a melee.”

 “You’re all throwing yourselves at each other with various pieces of metal,” Merlin remarks dryly, “what’s the difference?”

 Arthur rolls his eyes as he gets up, glancing out the window to see the approaching knights. There aren’t nearly as many as the last tournament, thank goodness, but that does mean that this one won’t be nearly as easily decided.

 “As long as I’m not cleaning up after all of you this time…”

 Arthur frowns, looking back at Merlin straightening the bed covers. “What do you mean?”

 “Last time. I was working non-stop. Had another knight almost as demanding as you are.”

 “I’m allowed to be demanding,” Arthur says, “you’re my servant.”

 “Mhmm, sure.”

 “No one else is.”

 “You tell them that, sire.”

 “I will. Who was it?”

 Merlin shrugs. “Don’t really remember his name.”

 Arthur sighs, walking forward and resting his hand on Merlin’s shoulder. “Yes, you do. That’s what you say when you don’t want to tell me someone’s name.”

 “You don’t know that.”

 “I do,” Arthur says softly, turning Merlin to face him, “so you can tell me.”

 “That’s not how it works.”

 “Sure it is.”

 “No, it really isn’t.”

 “Merlin,” Arthur huffs, “if something is wrong, you know you can tell me.”

 “But nothing’s wrong!” Arthur just gives him a look until he sighs, picking up the laundry basket. “Alright, fine, his name was Tobias, are you happy now?”

 “Yes, I am, thank you.” Arthur gives his shoulder another pat before moving away. “The next time he’s here, I’ll make sure you’re nowhere near him.”

 As it turns out, that doesn’t go as planned. Because Sir Tobias didn’t just sign up for the joust, he’s here for the melee too.

 “Arthur Pendragon,” the man roars, clapping Arthur firmly on the shoulder, “thought you’d seen the last of me, eh?”

“Thought that bruised backside you got from falling off your horse would’ve kept you away.”

 Tobias throws his head back and laughs. “You’ve got spirit about you, lad. It’ll serve you well if you can hold your nerve.”

 “My nerve has never failed me before,” Arthur replies cooly, gesturing up the stairs, “though I’m sure you know that by now.”

 “We’ll see come the melee.”

 Merlin is out of sight, helping the stablehands tend to the horses. As Arthur walks up the stairs, he sees Tobias glance around and huff softly to himself.

 “Is there something wrong?”

 “No, no,” Tobias says quickly as they enter the hall, “just glad to see you’ve not assigned me the same servant this time.”

 Arthur straightens. “Excuse me?”

 “The gangly boy that tended to my chambers last time,” Tobias says, waving his hand, “right awful he was. Glad you’ve fired him.”

 “I see…”

 Arthur does not, in fact, see, but he makes a point to tell the knights not to let Tobias near Merlin.

 As it turns out, they don’t have much of a choice. Arthur needs Merlin to help him get ready, and Tobias is of high enough rank to be near the prince as he does so. Luckily for Merlin, he just has to stay inside the tent.

 Unluckily for Merlin…

 “Arthur,” Gwaine calls from outside, “they need you to come look at the shields.”

 Arthur gives Merlin’s arm a squeeze and steps away, ducking out of the tent. Gwaine leads him over to a table laden with shields, each with a different insignia painted on it. The Pendragon crest gleams in the light, next to the sigils from each of the other knights fighting. None of them has so much as a scratch.

 “Very good, sire,” the attendant says, sweeping them along to finish the final preparations. Arthur follows Gwaine up the hill to where the others are standing, Leon turning and nodding solemnly ate his approach.

 “Are all of you competing, then?” Arthur leans against the wall.

 Leon shakes his head. “Lancelot and I will be sitting this one out.”

 “Not growing weary are you, old friend?”

 “Weary of people attempting to kill you while I’m already engaged in combat,” Leon replies wryly, “and weary of Merlin being the only one able to do anything about it.”

 “They won’t listen to him when he calls for a stop to the tourney,” Lancelot adds.

 “And so you can keep anyone away from him,” Gwaine says firmly.

 “Precisely.”

 They head back down the hill, just in time to see a flutter of movement from Arthur’s tent. Gwaine frowns, rushing forward and throwing it open.

 “Merlin?”

 “I’m here,” Merlin says, getting to his feet, “just fell.”

 Arthur rolls his eyes fondly and reaches down to help him up. “At some point, Merlin, I do have to wonder.”

 “It’s fine, I just picked up something without realizing it was attached to something else.”

 “I see.”

 The rest of the knights glance at each other over Arthur’s shoulder and Elyan stalks off toward a neighboring tent. Leon bows deeply and tells Merlin that he and Lancelot will wait for the others to finish their training before coming to collect him.

 “There’s still a few more days to go,” Merlin says softly, “I don’t see why you all had to come here so early.”

 “It’s to make it fair, give the knights the chance to get used to fighting in the same place.”

 Merlin grumbles to himself as he goes about finishing up. Arthur catches him gently by the elbow as he turns to leave.

 “Are you alright? Really?”

 “Arthur, I’m fine. It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

 Arthur sighs. “I would really like for one of these to go off normally for once.”

 Arthur does not, in fact, get what he wants.

 Not that anyone is particularly surprised that there’s a knight who managed to sneak a poisoned weapon into the training grounds, but someone clips Arthur through his armor and he winces, immediately aware that something’s wrong. Merlin spots it a mile away, because of course he does. The knight is quickly escorted away and Arthur shakes his head, calling for a search of all the knights’ belongings and weapons.

 “You’d think we’d get better about this,” Lancelot mutters as he and Merlin approach, Merlin rubbing his shoulder, “and that they’d stop trying.”

 “At least we caught it before the actual melee.”

 “Merlin, there you are,” Gwaine says, pulling Merlin to his side, “good. Now, you and I are going to have a talk.”

 “About what?” Arthur looks around. “What’s going on?”

 Lancelot just mouths that they’ll be back as Gwaine sweeps them both along the corridor. Arthur brushes it to the back of his mind. That’s not the first time they’ve done something like this.

 It’s the night before the melee. Merlin is late. Arthur paces up and down the length of his quarters. The knights have all vanished hours ago. Merlin is late.

 A knock.

 “Enter.”

 Leon sweeps inside, a stony look on his face. He glances around the quarters and bites back a curse. “Merlin’s not here, is he?”

 “No,” Arthur says, his blood beginning to run cold, “no, he isn’t. Where is he?”

“Gwaine and Lancelot are already looking,” Leon says, shutting the door, “but…sire, may I ask a question?”

 “Always,” Arthur says immediately, “you don’t need to ask.”

 “How long has Tobias been…allowed near Merlin?”

 “He hasn’t,” Arthur growls, hustling down the corridor, “but what has he done?”

 “He was more brazen during the joust.” Leon shoulders a door open. “But now—“

 “Merlin!”

 Arthur rushes forward as Merlin turns the corner. Startled, Merlin barely has time to turn all the way before Arthur’s wrapping him up in a protective arm and turning him back toward the safety of Arthur’s chambers.

 “Where were you?”

 “I was, um…”

 Arthur bites back a curse and hurries faster, Leon hot on their heels. Along the way, they come across Elyan and Percival, coming up from the armory.

 “Arthur, we need to—“ Elyan breaks off when he sees Merlin in Arthur’s arms. “Merlin?”

 “My chambers,” Arthur growls, “now.”

 “What about Gwaine and Lancelot?”

 “They’ll find us.”

 “Guys, whatever this is, it’s fine,” Merlin tries but Arthur simply opens the door to his quarters and sits Merlin down. “Really!”

 “Merlin,” Leon says quietly, “where were you just now?”

 Merlin glances at Arthur. Then back to Leon. “Helping Amelia.”

 “And who were you helping Amelia help?”

 Another glance at Arthur. Arthur closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

 “Merlin,” he says slowly, “I need you to answer me honestly, please.”

 Merlin nods, evidently a little taken aback at how soft Arthur’s voice is.

 “Were you helping Amelia because she asked for your help, or were you helping her so Tobias would get angry with you instead of her?”

 The silence that fills the room is more than enough of an answer.

 “I’m going to kill him,” Gwaine announces, kicking open the door, “now where’s—there you are.”

 “Gwaine, I—ah!”

 “Don’t break him,” Lancelot chides gently as Gwaine sweeps Merlin into a hug, “he’s probably still hurt.”

 “Hurt?” Arthur looks from Lancelot to Merlin. “Merlin—“

 “It’s fine.”

 “Can you allow us to be the judge of that,” Leon asks, settling a hand on Gwaine’s shoulder and moving him away, “please?”

 “It’s just a few bruises, he doesn’t even hit that hard.”

 “Not exactly helping your case here,” Gwaine snarls, stalking toward Arthur.

 “Merlin.”

 “…why’re you guys so upset?”

 Arthur winces. Merlin looks back and forth between them.

 “No…really, I don’t—I don’t understand. You lot hit me.”

 “Not like that!”

 “It’s fine, I don’t—“

 “This isn’t fine, Merlin, you’re being hurt.”

 “So?”

 The room falls silent. Leon draws back as if Merlin reached out to smack him across the face. Percival bows his head as Elyan bites back a curse. Lancelot stares at Merlin like he’s grown a second head. Gwaine looks at Arthur.

 Arthur’s chest clenches so painfully he fears he’s going to have to send for Gaius. Merlin…Merlin doesn’t believe that he’s worth worrying about when he’s hurt? Merlin doesn’t care that he’s getting hurt? Merlin is letting someone hurt him?

 “Merlin…”

 “What?” He looks around at all of them in confusion. “What it is? Why do you all look so…so…”

 “Upset?” Leon tilts his head. “Because you just told us you don’t think you’re important.”

 “But…this isn’t that big of a deal. It happens all the time. Why is this time any different.”

 “How often,” Lancelot says, “would you say this happens then?”

 “Every time there’s a tournament.”

 “Every tournament,” Leon repeats quietly, “there is a knight that does this?”

 “Sometimes more than one.”

 “And you…let them?”

 “It’s not like I have much of a choice.”

 No.

 No, no, no, this isn’t right.

 This isn’t right.

 Merlin is the man who waltzed right up to Arthur on his first day in Camelot and told him to stop being a prat.

 Merlin is the man who spat in Uther’s face as often as he could.

 Merlin is the man who demanded that everyone is treated as a person, be they servant or noble or royal.

 This is wrong.

 “Merlin,” Arthur manages, “Merlin, of course you have a choice.”

 “If I don’t do it, they’ll hurt someone else. And I’m used to it.”

 “But you never should’ve gotten used to it,” Arthur cries, rushing forward and grabbing Merlin’s shoulders, “damnit, Merlin, why don’t you protect yourself?”

 “I’m fine, Arthur.”

 “You’re letting yourself get pushed around and beaten by someone, you’re not fine.”

 “I have to put up with you, don’t I?”

 Arthur burns.

 Something in his chest squeezes so tight it breaks. He takes his hands off of Merlin like he’s been stung, backing up until he hits the poster of his bed. His mouth is open in shock and he can scarcely draw breath.

 Merlin thinks…Merlin…did he do this to Merlin?

 “I don’t understand why this is such a big deal,” Merlin is saying far, far away, “it’s not like I’m not…why’re you all looking at me like that?”

 No, no, Merlin is Arthur’s Merlin, he—he’d never hurt his Merlin, he’d never—no, he hasn’t—but—Merlin—

 “Arthur, are you—are you crying?”

 This is Arthur’s fault. This is Arthur’s fault, isn’t it, he’s messed this up, he’s messed Merlin up, he’s ruined it—he’s ruined everything.

 “Sire,” comes Leon’s—is that Leon’s?—voice from somewhere to his left, “you have to breathe, come on…”

 Arthur gasps, the air burning the inside of his throat. He does it again, frantically blinking to clear his eyes. Tears stream down his cheeks—so he did start crying—as the image of Lancelot and Gwaine talking to Merlin swims into view in front of him. Merlin’s brow is furrowed and he keeps shooting concerned looks Arthur’s way.

 “I never meant—“ Arthur swallows— “I never meant to hurt him. I didn’t—I never meant any of them, I—“

 “Shh, sire,” Leon murmurs, “we know. Nothing is simple right now.”

 “But that’s not what Arthur does,” Merlin protests, “he—is that why you guys are so worried?”

 Merlin turns and flies at Arthur, hands immediately coming up to cup his cheeks and numb away his tears, muttering all the while.

 “That’s not what I meant, Arthur,” he babbles, “I didn’t—I didn’t mean to—you’re not like them, I just—that’s what I’m used to, I didn’t know that there was a difference—“

 “I never meant to hurt you, Merlin,” Arthur says, gripping Merlin’s arms tightly, “I just—you must believe me—“

 “I do, I do—“ now Merlin’s crying too— “I just—“

 “Alright, you two,” Leon hushes, gently laying a hand on both of their shoulders, “let’s have you two sit before you fall over.”

 The knight guides them both to the bed, sitting them on the edge. They’re no help; they’re too busy crying and clinging onto each other.

 “Now, why don’t you two have a chat, and we’ll be outside.” Leon ruffles their hair affectionately and sweeps the others out into the corridor despite Gwaine’s protests.

 Arthur swallows. “I never meant to hurt you, Merlin,” he mumbles, “nor do I believe that you’re—a fool or an idiot or stupid or anything.”

 He clutches Merlin tightly. “You’re important to me.”

 Merlin nods. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you lot, it’s just…that was how the older boys in Ealdor treated me. I got used to it. And it always made sense.”

 Arthur shakes his head furiously. “It doesn’t make sense, Merlin. They were hurting you. People are hurting you. That’s not alright. That’s awful. And I’m going to stop it.”

 “You can’t just fight all the nobles who don’t like me.”

 “Watch me.”

 “Your father will—“

 “To hell with that,” Arthur snarls, “they’re hurting you. And I won’t stand for it.”

 Merlin sighs, slumping forward. Without a thought, Arthur catches him, pulling him closer and tucking his head over Merlin’s.

 “…you really would fight them for me?”

 “Yes, Merlin. I would. And I will.”

 He feels Merlin grin against his shoulder. “You’re going to make Tobias never come back to Camelot, aren’t you?”

 “Perhaps.”

[rainbowvamp]

"Your Grace."

A royalty/knight AU. Merlin as a prince. Lancelot is a knight of Camelot. They fall in love because of course they do. :)

--

The carriage he’s riding in bumps and drags through the streets of Camelot. Because he’s here as a prince, a visiting dignitary, he was asked to behave as a dignitary and ride inside the carriage, not on his own damn horse. Which made the ride entirely out of his control and fairly uncomfortable, and worst of all boring.

He could hear his father’s knights laughing and joking right up until they reached the gates of Camelot. He wasn’t jealous, per se, but he wished he could at least pretend he might be able to participate in the joking.

He couldn’t even entertain himself with magic because the carriage curtains were partly lace embellished and it might show through. That Ealdor allowed Magic openly was no secret in Camelot, but that the crown prince had it… that definitely was. And for the sake of certain trade negotiations, it was going to have to stay that way.

Merlin sighs with relief when the carriage finally stops and he hears himself being announced. Someone opens the door to his carriage and he puts on an air of princeliness that his mother would have been proud of as someone offers him a hand to help him step down.

The hand offered him is not the hand of one of his father’s men.

It’s the hand of a truly beautiful man, with dark brown eyes that look so earnest Merlin could’ve tripped over them. He did start to trip over his own feet, but the knight (and he must be a knight in that gorgeous Camelot red) quickly took Merlin’s waist in one hand to steady him.

Merlin might have looked gangly, but he was far from a waif of a damsel, so the feat required no small amount of strength. Merlin tried not to think about it too much, lest he become distracted.

“Your Grace,” the knight helped Merlin the rest of the way down (no more tripping) and bowed when he released Merlin’s hand. “I’m Sir Lancelot, knight of Camelot. It will be my honor to escort you during your visit. The king and the prince are unfortunately occupied with a trade deal that is taking much longer than anticipated. He had hoped to be done before your caravan arrived, but I’m sorry to say this was not the case.”

If Merlin were at home, he might have said something like, “Oh, great. Uther’s a nightmare.” Or better, “Arthur’s always been a prat anyway. I don’t send any regrets.”

But Merlin was here representing his father, his mother, and his kingdom. He’d do as was meant to be done, and he’d be amiable. “I understand. These things happen. I’m quite tired after the journey. Could you show me somewhere I might lay down for a minute?”

Truthfully, Merlin was a ball of energy, but he knew himself well enough to know that he was barely holding himself together, and a quick reprieve from society, with all doors shut and windows covered, would be the best thing he could do for himself right now.

“Of course. I can show you to your chambers. Prince Arthur offered the ones nearest his to you.”

Merlin tilted his head. “I was under the impression those were usually knight’s chambers.”

“They are, but certain improvements are being made to the guest areas of the castle. I promise you will not find them lacking.”

“I believe you.” Merlin didn’t, but he wasn’t going to make a scene. He hated that he was going to have to be close at all to Prince Prat. Why had his father sent him? What had been the point of this whole diplomatic visit? Merlin didn’t have any authority yet. It was just a cutesy show of alliance.

Or his Mother was trying to marry him off again while he was gone. It had only happened the once, and she’d promised it was an accident, but Merlin was skeptical.

“If you’ll follow me, Your Grace, I’ll show you to your rooms.”

“Yes, that would be great.” Lancelot offered Merlin his arm, and while usually Merlin would’ve refused…

Well, how could he refuse such a chivalrous knight. He put his hand in the crook of Lancelot’s elbow and was careful not to outwardly relish the contact. Even through the chainmail, Merlin could feel the sheer strength in Lancelot. It wasn’t at all unpleasant.

If her were home, he might’ve made a move to get Lancelot into his bed. But he was supposed to be amiable, so he settled for just smiling as Lancelot explained what new was being done to improve the castle’s fortitude and kept his mouth firmly shut about how it all sounded unnecessary.

“Here you are,” Lancelot opened the door to a chamber near Arthur’s. Merlin only knew it was Arthur’s because he’d been forced to take supper with the prince in them once while their parents discussed “private matters.” Whatever that had meant. It had been a stilted and awkward dinner, only barely saved by the grace of the Lady Morgana. “I hope you will find everything to your liking. If not, the servants have orders to bring you anything you might need to make your stay more comfortable.”

“Thank you,” Merlin walked into the chambers alone and… was actually impressed.

It was obvious the place had been very thoroughly cleaned, recently, and the drapery on the bed, the curtains, and the linens all looked incredibly beautiful. Well preserved or possibly even new. An obvious Camelot Red that looked much less fetching on bedding than it did on Sir Lancelot.

“Your grace,” Lancelot bowed and left Merlin to his rest.

He collapsed onto the bed as soon as the door was closed.

By the Gods, how was he going to make it through the week with this gorgeous knight around? Merlin was very glad this was only meant to be a short visit. Or maybe not so glad.

His servant came in a few minutes later with his things, and Merlin asked him to draw the curtains. Once the room was dark and he was alone, he pulled at the thread of magic that ran through his soul and muttered a simple spell to make the room glow.

The glow purposefully mimicked candlelight, ebbing in a way that would fool most people, but instead of fire light, the room was filled with magic that came from him and could be shaped into anything he desired. He made it a little bird and watched it flutter around the room for a while, letting the energy of maintaining the manifestation still him a bit. The bird’s flying became hopping around on the bed spread and then slowly it nestled down in the blankets to sleep, and Merlin, lulled by it, did the same.

—

Lancelot knocked thrice on the door to Prince Merlin’s chambers before entering. He had been asked to fetch him for dinner. Though that was usually a servant’s job, Lancelot didn’t hesitate to go up to the room that was usually his to retrieve the Prince.

He waited for an answer, but heard nothing. He checked the hall to see if any of Prince Merlin’s servants might be milling about, but had no such luck. He knocked again, louder this time. “Your Grace. Dinner is to be served soon, if you would like me to escort you?”

He still heard nothing. The Prince had mentioned that he was tired, and so perhaps it was possible the man was asleep. Lancelot tried the knob and found it unlocked. With no guard to be seen. Lancelot sucked his teeth and made a vow to either make the man lock his door to station a guard. The palace might be safe, and Merlin may have no enemies in Camelot to speak of, but it did seem like there was always at least one traitor within her walls. He’d hate for Merlin to be their victim.

“Your Grace,” Lancelot called again, entering the antechamber and closing the door to give them some privacy. “Are you here?”

It felt strange to walk into his own room like it wasn’t his. For the next week it wasn’t his, but he hadn’t been able to handle the idea of Merlin being put in a drafty room barely suitable for a card game, let alone sleeping for a week.

Arthur had been fine with it, but Arthur was not particularly hospitable. When Lancelot had offered up his own room instead, Arthur had only raised an eyebrow and waved his hand, which was as close to permission as he was going to get.

It wasn’t ideal to be making his way to the bedchambers of a prince unannounced, but if Merlin wasn��t there he’d have to start a search, and so really it was just practical. It had nothing to do with Lancelot’s own personal curiosity.

“Your Grace.” Lancelot poked his head around the bedchamber door and for a moment, he lost his breath.

Merlin was gorgeous, sleeping peacefully on top of the blankets, shoes not even removed, strangely, but that wasn’t what caught Lancelot’s breath. Sitting on the bed, nestled against Merlin’s chest, was a glowing orange bird, no bigger than a sparrow.

Oh shit.

Oh shit.

Lancelot started to back out of the chamber to knock again, louder, but Merlin was already stirring, and as soon as their eyes locked the bird vanished.

They stood there, in quiet, tense silence for several moments, both of them trying to think of what to say. Magic was outlawed in Camelot, and they both knew what Lancelot had seen. To his credit, Merlin didn’t look like he was about to attack him with said magic, so that was good. But the threat of what might be about to happen hung heavy in the air between them, stifling any possible conversation.

Merlin was the first to clear his throat. “Did you need something?”

Lancelot’s mouth opens and closes without him saying anything, but soon enough he finds his voice, clears his throat, and says, “Um, dinner is to be served soon. If you’d like to dress.”

Merlin looked down at his travel clothes, now slept in, and sighed. “I suppose I must.”

Lancelot nodded and closed the door to the bedchamber.

Oh shit.

—

“Fuck.” Merlin whispered to himself as he rifled through the chest of his clothes. Sir Lancelot might very well be running to tell the king about him right now. He searched his trunk for the clothes that he would usually wear to battle but then decided against them. He took a deep breath, elbow deep in fabric and necessities, and forced himself to shaky feet, grabbing the ensemble he’d planned to wear to the first dinner of his visit. He’d never needed mail or anything else to go into battle. He’d trained to fight in his royal clothes for exactly this reason. He’d at least take the chance that Lancelot was too stupid to know what he’d seen before he went out magic wielded. It was for the best.

He dressed quickly, even for being on his own, washing his face and hands, combing his hair and carefully adjusting the delicate his mother had given him specially for this visit. Why she’d felt such a need, Merlin would never know. Hunith was a strange woman, and only getting stranger, while Balinor seemed to be getting more callused. Still, he loved them, and all their eccentricities.

He felt luxurious in the deep blue and green dinner clothes, and that steadied him a little. If he was going to have to fight, at least he’d look good doing it.

And he had a dagger stashed on his person just in case.

He opened the door and found Lancelot standing a few feet away, turned away from him. Merlin kept his back straight and his gaze level as the man turned to face him.

“It’s been a while since I saw Camelot’s dining hall. I might need help getting there.” He could definitely have gotten there on his own, but he wanted to keep Lancelot close, just in case. It was always easier to hide using magic on someone when they were closer.

“Of course, Your Grace.” Lancelot extended his arm again, and Merlin decided to take it again. It kept his arm inconspicuously close to the opening of his coat, where he could reach in and grab his dagger if need be.

They made their way to the antechamber, but they stopped at the door. Merlin tensed at the way Lancelot didn’t reach for the handle.

“Your secret is safe with me.” Lancelot said, and Merlin started to pull away, but Lancelot held his hand at his elbow. “I swear it.”

Again, just like when they’d met, Lancelot has such earnest eyes, Merlin can’t help but believe him.

“I’m not a danger to anyone.” He swore in return, and Lancelot nodded, with a soft smile.

“I know. You did trip getting out of your carriage.” Lancelot’s little chuckle would’ve been cute if it hadn’t embarrassed Merlin so badly.

“I’d been riding for hours. My legs were unsteady.”

“I’m sure.” Lancelot reached for the door knob now and Merlin breathed a sigh of relief.

“Your secret is safe with me.”

And somehow, Merlin believed him.

[emrysandhisking]

Merlin/Merthur Fic Rec Part 1

So I have enjoyed reading some brilliant Merlin inspired fics and here’s a collection of some of my favourites:

-Paint my spirit gold by andiwould (19k)

Arthur’s agreed to come to the druid camp so that he can see this Emrys the prophecy talks about and unite their lands, but Emrys won’t meet him. Instead, Arthur’s been left with this young druid called Merlin that parades around half-naked and smiles too much. At first, Arthur feels as though there’s not much more to him than just that, but later he discovers that he’s been wrong all along and that Emrys has been closer to him than he thought.

- The King of Mars by Ivalee (Chapters 5/5)

As children, the Pendragon siblings were obsessed with the space program. They dreamt of becoming astronauts and one day walking on another planet. Their dream leads them to NASA where the revelation of magic suddenly brings Mars within our reach. The Camelot 1 crew, including both Pendragons and powerful sorcerer, Merlin Emrys, land on Mars, and the world celebrates -- until a Martian storm cuts the mission short and tragedy strikes. Arthur is killed, and Morgana makes the difficult decision to leave her brother's body behind on Mars. His crewmates and the world mourn his loss, until Gwen Smith, a clever engineer at NASA, makes a shocking discovery: Arthur is alive.

His ingenuity and determination will get him far, but will Arthur be able to survive alone on Mars until help arrives?

-A Medieval King Arthur in Cameron’s Court by tuesdaymidnight (26k)

The legends all say that King Arthur will return when Britain needs him most. That's why Merlin is confused when Arthur is awoken in the twenty-first century. The country isn't under attack, the pound remains strong, British artists are topping the Billboard charts, really, the only thing amiss is Merlin's magic. At first, Merlin thinks it's technology interfering with the balance of magic in the world, but with the arrival of Arthur, he's not so sure. When Gwaine and Percival also reappear, together the four men try to find the cause of the magical failure. Eventually they track the problem down to a CEO of an energy industry giant who looks suspiciously like Morgana, and the four old friends are forced to stop her. All the while, Merlin has his hands full with three medieval knights trying to adjust to life in the twenty-first century.

- The Unintentional Wooing Skills of Arthur Pendragon by giselleslash (5k)

Arthur is a master of wooing...if one defines master as ‘a complete and utter tragedy’. Somehow Merlin doesn’t seem to mind all that much.

-A Modern Manservant by Mamalazzer (Chapters 2/2)

A modern magical comedy very loosely based on Ugly Betty. Publishing king Uther Pendragon has had enough of his playboy son seducing every female assistant he has ever had so he hires Merlin, a man he is sure Arthur will never sleep with. Merlin would be more insulted by this fact if he wasn’t so busy trying to juggle his duties, save Arthur's skin from ruthless fashionistas and keep his magic a secret at the same time. Expect appearances by oil-lathered knights, the occasional mad druid, a perverted Will and a mental caretaker who lives in the basement and keeps harping on about coins and destiny.

- Warden (Of the Land) Primal (Of the Sea)  by FrozenMarVel (Chapters 20/20)

Arthur is a half-human, half-atlantean warrior, popularly known as the Aquaman. Following his world saving feat with his fellow League heroes, he does his best to use his natural abilities for the good of humankind. Enter captivating, fierce Merlin, a Prince of the Seas, who insists on Arthur’s help to stop his power hungry half-brother King Mordred from forcefully uniting the oceanic people to conquer the surface world.

The Kingdom of Atlantis needs its one true heir to take the throne, but can Arthur set aside his anger at the people who murdered his Queen Mother for bearing a half-breed? Amid Primordial Creatures, Legendary Weapons and Powerful Sea Sorcerers, Arthur must stop a great war and save everyone, while enduring Merlin’s irresistible self.

Easier said than done.

- Give the Dragon a Chilli by supercalvin (46k)

Aithusa might have been no bigger than a house cat but she was still a dragon. That meant wings, claws, and her own personal hoard, which in Aithusa’s case included soft pillows, fluffy socks, and much to Merlin’s chagrin, stolen pants. When Merlin found out that his winged ward had stolen a rather considerable pile of clothing for her hoard, he thought that it would be the end of any kind of friendship with his neighbour. But when Merlin met the victim of Aithusa’s burglary, he was pleasantly surprised to find Arthur, a man who had never in his life seen a dragon let alone a burglarizing one, and Cavall, a curious German Shepherd puppy who was quick to befriend the little white dragon. From there, it was only the beginning.

- A (Marginally Secret) Sorcerer on Her Majesty’s (Marginally Secret) Service...Plus a prat of a Field Agent by Phoenix_Rose  (Series)

Merlin Myrddin is our definitely, entirely, completely secret Sorcerer.

Arthur Pendragon is out definitely, entirely, completely magic-hating field agent.

Merlin definitely doesn’t call Arthur ‘Prince’ as a pet name (it’s a codename).

Arthur definitely doesn’t call Merlin ‘Emrys’ because he’s in awe of his power in any way.

And most importantly of all - they are definitely not dating against protocol, Uther Pendragon’s wishes, and the logic of every person in Great Britain.

-We duel at dawn by clotpolesonly (2k)

Merlin was squinting at him, concentrating very hard. Arthur waited for him to say whatever it was he was thinking so hard about.

What he finally got was, “Fight me.”

Arthur was hard-pressed not to laugh out loud. Merlin looked so determined, his chin up and eyes narrowed, but he was obviously still high as balls.

- About Time by rosewatergold (55k)

After losing Arthur, Merlin semi-accidentally travels back in time. In an attempt to change the future, Merlin takes Morgana under his wing and trains her in magic, all the while trying to pretend he's not still in love with an Arthur who doesn't remember that they used to be married (in the future, that is), keeping an eye out for Morgause, and juggling Camelot's run of the mill crises. You know, the usual manservant stuff.

Enjoy! x

[mischiefandspirits]

From the Start: The Mark of Nimueh

It was supposed to be a one time thing. Arthur let the sorcerer run off with his life in return for him saving Arthur’s. He had never expected to see the boy again, especially not only two days later in Gaius’s chambers.

Arthur stared down at Merlin, unimpressed.

“Where are you, you little -”

“What are you doing?”

The warlock gave a yelp as he hit his head on the bottom of Arthur’s bed frame with a loud thump!

“A-A-Arthur, what are you doing back from training so soon?” he stammered, scrambling out from underneath the bed.

“I left my -- That’s not important, what were you doing underneath my bed?” Arthur asked, taking in the boy’s rumpled appearance and the thin scratches on his face that were bleeding slightly.

“Y-your bed? Oh, I, um, I dropped… something.”

“Something?” Arthur said, crossing his arms.

“Yes.”

“Was it your brain?”

Merlin glared at the prince and opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by a soft chirping sound coming from Arthur’s feet.

Both looked down to see a black cat curling around the prince’s boot, trilling as it stared up at Arthur with vivid yellow eyes.

“Why is there a cat in my room?”

“Well, you see… I was trying something and, well…”

“You let a cat into my room?”

“I don’t think let him in is the proper way of putting it,” Merlin chuckled nervously.

“You brought a cat into my room?”

“No, no, he sort of, kind of, originated from your room. In a way. Though I guess I did bring the toy in here so -”

“Merlin!” Arthur snapped. “What did you do?”

“So I was thinking about what happened with Valiant and I realized that if I could have just summoned the snakes from his shield myself it would have saved us a lot of time, so I found a spell in the book to bring artwork to life and got a toy cat from the market and, well, the spell worked,” Merlin said quickly and finished it off by waving at the cat in a ta-da fashion.

“You brought a cat to life in my room!”

“You’re the one who said not to practice outside of here!”

Arthur glared at the warlock and pointed at the feline. “Turn it back.”

“That was the plan, but the book doesn’t list the counterspell.”

“You,”Arthur deadpanned, “are an idiot. Why would you bring it to life without knowing how to turn it back?”

“I didn’t think it was important. He was just a little cat toy.”

“Well, as per usual, you thought wrong. I don’t want some animal prowling around my room, especially one summoned by that. Get rid of it.”

“That’s what I was trying to do,” Merlin said, gesturing to the bed. “But he keeps running away from me.”

Arthur rolled his eyes and bent down.

“Wai-”

The prince scooped up the purring cat, who nuzzled into his vambrace. He held it out, saying, “Here.”

“You, he, how did you do that?”

“I don’t have all day.”

“Right.” Merlin came forwards and reached out for the cat.

He then jumped back as the cat hissed and nearly scratched him.

“Menace,” he muttered and Arthur snorted.

Meanwhile, the cat, content that Merlin wasn’t going to try again, cuddled Arthur’s chainmail-covered chest and resumed its purring.

The prince’s hand came up unconsciously to settle on the squirming cat’s head.

“I’m guessing this explains those scratches on your cheek?” he teased.

Merlin’s hand came up to said scratches and he pouted. “He hates me! I think he knows I’m trying to turn him back into a toy and is angry with me.”

“It’s a cat, Merlin.”

“Cats are pretty smart animals.”

“Smarter than you, maybe,” Arthur snorted.

Merlin noticed Arthur’s hand, which had begun scratching the cat’s ears and he smirked. “Well, he seems to like you well enough.”

Arthur most certainly did not blush when he realized what he was doing. He did, however, shove the cat into Merlin’s arms. “Of course it does. Everyone does,” he snapped, ignoring Merlin’s snort that immediately followed. “Now get it out of here.”

Merlin gave the cat an anxious look as it loudly chattered and clawed at Merlin’s jacket, all the while staring at Arthur in a clear showing of who it would prefer at the moment. “Right,” he said slowly.

A knock came from the door and the two turned as it opened to admit a servant. The man’s eyes widened as he caught sight of the prince and he immediately dropped into a bow. “I’m sorry for intruding, Your Highness.”

“What is it?” Arthur snapped, completely done with servants.

“Gaius sent me. He is in need of Merlin’s help in the lower town.”

“Thank you, Michel,” the boy said and the older servant nodded before glancing at the prince, who dismissed the nervous looking man with a wave of his hand.

A part of Arthur wanted to pile a load of chores on the warlock’s back for this recent misuse (and really, wasn’t any use of magic a misuse) of his powers, could he really deny the court physician assistance?

“Did you at least finish your chores before deciding to play around with animals?” he asked the boy, who nodded and gave a hum that didn’t sound entirely convincing. “Then go. Make sure you’re back in time to deliver my lunch though. Hopefully, Gaius will find you more useful. At the very least it will keep you out of trouble.”

Merlin frowned before putting on his usual pseudo-smile. “Thank you, sire,” he said, bowing his head. Then he proceeded to shove the cat back into Arthur’s arms before darting out the door.

“Merlin!”

Despite the fact that the idiot had to have heard him, Arthur got no response.

He glared down at the cat, who was once more snuggled up to him with a purr. “You are an abomination and I will not have you in my rooms.”

The cat gave a cheerful meow.

Arthur scowled and snatched his dagger off the table then stomped out of the room. Once his door was firmly closed, he dropped the cat next to it and waved his hands. “Shoo.” He then marched off without a backwards glance.

“Sorry Gaius, we're searching every room in town.”

“What for?”

“The sorcerer.”

“But why would he be here?”

“I'm just doing my job.”

“Well, we've nothing to hide. Go on then, search.”

Despite the fact that he knew his only magical item was hidden away in Arthur’s own wardrobe, Merlin couldn’t help the nervous energy building in him as he watched Arthur’s men rustle through Gaius’s chambers

“What are these books and papers?”

“My life's work, dedicated to the understanding of science. You are quite welcome to read through them if you wish.”

Merlin felt the faintest flicker of amusement at the face Arthur made at that, but it quickly died as Arthur turned to his own room.

“What's this room up here?”

“Er, it's mine,” he said, stepping forward.

“And what do you expect to find in there?” Gaius asked as Arthur started towards the door.

“I'm looking for material or evidence suggesting the use of enchantments.”

Merlin flinched when Gaius patted his back. The physician gave him an odd look as he said, “It’s alright. They’ll be gone soon and then we can get back to work.”

“R-right.”

“Merlin, come here. Look what I found.”

Merlin jumped at Arthur’s voice and rushed into his room, only to see Arthur standing in front of his wardrobe.

“I found a place where you can put things. It's called a cupboard.”

“I, uh, right,” Merlin said, glancing around his messy room.

Arthur sent him a glare as he closed the cupboard and walked passed him. He pretended to close the door so he could look behind it, but as soon as it was shut, he grabbed Merlin’s arm and towed him over to the far side of the room. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t turn you over to the guards right now?” he hissed.

“You… don’t have any proof?” Merlin whispered back. At Arthur’s unimpressed look, he added, “I can help?”

“Help against your own attack?”

“My a-” Annoyance washed away the fear. “Arthur, even if I wanted to hurt people -- which I don’t -- why would I do it in such an obviously magical way when I know that you know what I am?”

“You’re the only sorcerer in Camelot that I know of.”

“And you’re the only royal prat I know, but I’m sure there are more out there!”

“If you didn’t do this, who did?”

“I don’t know,” Merlin huffed, trying to tug his arm free. “The only other one with magic that I know of is the dragon and considering he’s been locked beneath the dungeons for twenty years, I’m guessing he would have done something a long time ago if he could.”

“Then how do you think you can help? Can that lead us to the sorcerer?”

“I don’t know.” Could it? Was there a way to track someone else’s magic? He didn’t remember seeing something like that in his book. Maybe if he could check the other books in the vaults…

“Then why did you say you could help?”

“I can heal people.”

“With that?” Arthur finally let him go, only to cross his arms. “You really are an idiot, aren’t you? Did you forget my father has me hunting sorcerers? Everyone is suspicious of everyone else right now. You’d be found out in a moment.”

“I could save lives!”

“And lose your own in the process.”

“I didn’t think you cared,” Merlin snorted.

“I don’t… but if you aren’t the one who did this -- and I’m still not convinced you’re not -- then we’d be wasting time dealing with you instead of finding the actual threat.”

Merlin bit his lip and glanced at the door. “So what are you going to do?”

“What my father asked. I’m going to look for any signs of a sorcerer.”

“And if you can’t find any?”

Arthur turned around and stomped out of the room. “How long do you think it may be before you find a cure?” he asked Gaius.

“It depends on how many interruptions I get.”

“Of course, I'm sorry.” He turned to the guards and gestured them out. “We're finished here.”

Merlin watched them leave, then turned to Gaius, who was going back to his work. “Do you think he’ll find them, the sorcerer?”

Gaius sighed. “A sorcerer who's powerful enough to do this will never be found searching the town.”

Merlin swallowed and nodded.

“No, please. You've got to listen to me! Please, I haven't done anything wrong!”

Merlin rushed around a corner to see Gwen being dragged down a nearby hall by a pair of guards.

“You have to listen to me, please! I am innocent, I swear! Let me go!”

He ran down to the hall to see Arthur leading the guards.

“I swear to you! Merlin!” Gwen shouted turning to see him.

Arthur turned at the sound of Merlin’s name.

“Merlin, please help me!” She called out to the warlock before turning back to the guards. “Why won't you listen to me? Merlin, please!”

Arthur stepped off to the side and told the guards, “Take her to the king. I will be along shortly.”

The guards looked confused, but did as ordered. As soon as they were out of sight, Arthur grabbed Merlin and dragged him into an alcove. “What did you do?”

“What?”

“I warned you about using that! And what did you do?”

“I couldn't let her father die knowing I could cure him.”

“And you didn’t think I’d have to look into why he’s the only one to recover?”

“Well then, all I have to do is… I'll cure everyone! No one will ever have to know it was magic.”

“It's too late!” Arthur hissed, shoving him. “The guards saw the poultice and her father admitted to everyone that Gwen was the only one around. I can’t hide it and we both know my father’s going to think she caused the disease!”

“But she didn't! You know that!”

“Of course I do, but my father’s not going to listen,” Arthur growled before stomping off.

“Arthur!”

“Shut up, Merlin. You’ve done enough. Just do as you’re told before I turn you over myself.”

“You idiot!”

“Funny, I thought that was my line,” Arthur snorted as he closed the doors to his room. “You should be thanking me for saving you from your own stupidity.”

“What else could I do? It's my fault Gwen's going to die!”

“Of course it is, but what do you think is going to happen when you burn and the plague continues. My father will just burn Gwen as well. And then two will be dead for nothing.”

“You’re the one who sa- Wait, so you don’t think I’m the one causing it anymore?” Merlin perked up and Arthur rolled his eyes.

“No, clearly you’re too stupid for that.”

“Clearly,” Merlin huffed.

“You and Gaius need to either figure out what’s wrong with the water or find the sorcerer so I can get it out of them,” Arthur said, crossing the room to his table. “That’s the only way my father can be convinced to let Gwen go. Has Gaius got any leads?”

“No, but we’re going down to check the water supply as soon as he’s done talking to Uther. Hopefully, we’ll find something there.”

“Right, then ge-”

“Meow.”

The two blinked, then turned as one to see a black cat curled up on Arthur’s pillows, blinking slowly as it watched them.

“Oh, so this is where you’ve been?” Merlin said, while at the same time Arthur shouted, “This is the seventh time! How do you keep getting in here?”

“Merlin, what are you doing?”

Merlin didn’t look up from his searching, just saying, “Looking for a book.”

“Care to tell me which one?”

“A book on elements.”

“Elements?” Gaius asked, coming closer.

“Yes. Which one would I find them in?”

“Well, most of them. The study of base elements is at the very heart of the scientific process.”

“But how would they help me kill the Afanc?” Merlin said without thinking. He finally looked up as his words registered.

“Well, the Afanc is a creature made from earth and water. That's two of the four base elements,” Gaius answered, staring at him with a raised eyebrow.

“What about the other two?”

Gaius looked surprised. “Well, perhaps they will destroy it. You want fire. Wind and fire.”

Merlin mouthed the words and stood up.

“How did you find this out?”

“Erm… It just came to me, you know? Guess your lessons must be sinking in more than we thought.”

“Uh, huh,” Gaius said, looking unconvinced.

“I need to talk to Arthur.”

“Arthur?”

“He’ll be able to take the Afanc.”

He heard Gaius call after him as he raced out of the room, but kept going until he bumped into Morgana on the stairs.

“They're bringing forward the execution. We have to prove Gwen's innocence.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do.” He steadied her before continuing on his way.

“Please, just tell me what I can do to help,” she said, following.

“I’ve got a plan. I just need Arthur.”

“Arthur?”

“Yes?”

The two stopped as Arthur stepped out in front of them.

“What are you doing here?” Morgana asked.

“Same as you I suppose. Checking to see if Gaius has discovered anything new. Merlin?”

“I… There's a monster, an Afanc, in the water supply. That's what's causing the plague.”

“That’s good. If it’s a monster that’s causing this then that means there’s no sorcerer. I can tell my father and he’ll let Gwen go.”

Merlin bit his lip as Arthur turned to do just that. “Wait, Arthur.”

“Merlin, we don’t have time for this.”

“Just listen. Gaius said the Afanc is a creature that’s summoned by a sorcerer. If your father finds out he’ll just blame that on Gwen too.”

“He has a point Arthur,” Morgana agreed.

“It seems you do have a brain somewhere in there. So tell me, Merlin, what do you suggest we do?”

“We need to destroy it. Then the plague will stop and Uther may see sense.”

“I won’t lie to my father.”

“I’m not asking you to.”

“Leave Uther to me,” Morgana said.

“You can’t lie to him either,” Arthur sighed.

“I won’t. I’ll just keep him distracted until you two can destroy that beast. Maybe then he’ll see sense.”

Arthur looked between the two before spinning around and marching off with a huff.

Merlin gave Morgana a grateful look before following.

“You better be right about this, Merlin,” Arthur muttered as he led the way to the water supply.

“I am, I swear. You just need to trust me.”

Arthur snorted and opened the doors. He grabbed his sword, but Merlin stopped him.

“Gaius said we’ll need fire and wind to destroy the Afanc.” He pointed towards the torch.

Arthur narrowed his eyes. “And where do you suppose we get wind?”

“Let’s just say it’s a good thing Morgana decided to stay back.”

“You!”

“Do you want to destroy this thing or not?”

“Of course I do, but there has to be another way.”

“Maybe, but we don’t have time to look. Please, Arthur.”

Arthur stared him down before grabbing the torch. “Let’s go.”

Blue eyes glared into yellow ones. “It has that, that’s the only explanation.”

“I don’t think that’s possible,” Merlin snickered as he cleaned the hearth.

“It was created from that, why couldn’t it have it?”

“He’s a cat.”

“A magic cat. How else could he keep getting in here?”

“The chambermaids? I’ve heard quite a few of the kitchen-maids talking about him, maybe some of the girls have seen him sulking outside your door and think he’s yours so they’ve been letting him in.”

“Why would anyone think I’d keep a cat?” Arthur scoffed.

“He’s cute?”

“You’re such a girl, Merlin,” Arthur snorted, sitting back and crossing his arms. “No, it’s definitely got that. Its eyes even look like yours do when you’re practicing.”

“I knew you’ve been watching me,” Merlin muttered just loud enough for Arthur to catch. Louder, he added, “That’s just how cats’ eyes look.”

“You need to get rid of it. I can’t have some magic cat skulking around my chambers.”

“He’s not skulking. He just likes you, for some unknowable reason. You should name him.”

“I’m not naming it, and neither are you. Do not get attached to this thing, Merlin. It’s going straight back to were it came from, understand?”

“I was thinking something along the lines of Palug.”

“We are not naming it, and even if we were, we’re certainly not naming it that.”

“I liked it.”

“Shut up, Merlin.”

For the record, Cavall (as the cat will later be named) is not the Cath Palug (who apparently killed Arthur in some stories?). I just needed a name for Merlin to suggest and happened to stumble upon the black cat and couldn’t stand the irony.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Bond of Choice

Prompt: Merlin and Arthur discover that Aithusa the dragon has an unusually special bond with Arthur, of all people! She loves Merlin of course, but always plays around and makes a ruckus with him. With Arthur, though, she is stoic and protective. She senses something about the prince that no one else can- what if Arthur inherited a type of magic from his birth that isn't like Merlins? It can't be controlled or summoned, but other beings can sense it and will come without him saying a word.

Thanks for the prompt, babe!

Read on Ao3

Warnings: absolutely none my dudes

Pairings: merthur, can be platonic or romantic i don’t care

Word Count: 1606

It’s not as if they didn’t notice it, they just…didn’t think that it meant anything.

And, really, doesn’t that just sum up their whole thing?

Merlin and Arthur knew that Merlin got away with so much more than anyone else in Camelot, they knew that Arthur was able to make truly staggering leaps in logic when it came down to it. They knew that there wasn’t a single servant or guard in the castle who could hurt Merlin and get away with it. They knew that the knights were all ready to commit a coup should Arthur harm one hair on Merlin’s head.

But does that mean anything? No, of course not.

Anyways.

Aithusa is a bright young dragon. For such a small thing, her ability to move herself and control her own strength is impressive. Not that they have many other dragons to compare her to. Kilgarrah’s barely around as it is—something about the stench of Uther’s legacy gets under his scales, apparently—and, well…there are no more dragons. She carries no burden of her species, sniffing the air with the enthusiasm of a newborn and quickly taking flight into the still morning air.

Merlin sits back against the tree, his head tilting to watch Aithusia through the leaves. The field glows golden in the early morning, small tendrils of fog drifting up from the warming ground. They curl and dance around each blade of grass as she swoops low, letting the very tip of her snout skim their edges before diving back into the sky.

“She’s getting stronger,” he murmurs to himself as she coasts along a warm current of air, “and faster.”

“She’s beautiful.”

Merlin does not squeal and jump in surprise. Arthur chuckles as he sits down next to a Merlin who is panting for an unrelated reason, thank you very much. He nudges the warlock’s shoulder.

“After all these years, you’ve still never learned how to pay attention, have you?”

“Oh, I’m paying attention,” Merlin retorts, rubbing his shoulder, “just not to you.”

“How dare you, I’m the most important thing here!”

“You keep telling yourself that, sire.”

“Merlin!”

Merlin is saved from having to listen to another I-am-the-King-appreciate-me-you-dolt lecture by Aithusia crowing in delight as she spins upward. They scramble out from under the tree to see her wings spread wide, the light gleaming off her scales, through the translucent part of her wings. She looks down to them and dives, landing gently in front of Merlin and shuffling her paws.

“You’re getting better at flying, girl,” Merlin says quietly, scuffing his hand across her head, “and you look stronger.”

Aithusa rumbles contentedly.

“Yes, yes, I know, you’re doing much better now that we’ve got you out here, hmm?” Merlin chuckles as she pushes her head closer to him. “Alright, alright, I’m here.”

The dragon snuffles at his tunic and nudges her nose right into his belly, almost knocking him over.

“Hey, easy! I’m much lighter than you!” Aithusa huffs and keeps pushing. “Aithusa!”

Arthur, the prat, takes a step to the left and turns to watch Aithusia bowl Merlin over onto the grass. The dragon rumbles happily and flops down onto the grass, her head planted firmly across Merlin’s stomach.

“Arthur!”

“Yes, Merlin?”

Merlin flails, trying to get out from under Aithusia’s head despite the fact that Aithusia very clearly does not want to be moved right now. She simply purrs louder, the vibrations almost strong enough to make his teeth chatter.

“Help me!”

Arthur raises an eyebrow. “You certainly look comfortable.”

“I’ve been knocked over by a dragon, you prat.”

“Oh. So you have.”

“Are you going to help me up or not?”

He shrugs. “Don’t see why I should. She’s a good girl, she won’t hurt you.”

“She’s also quite heavy, Arthur.”

“Come on, Merlin, you could do with a bit of exercise.”

“Exer—after running around the kingdom after your royal arse all day, that’s enough exercise for a week!”

Arthur reaches out to stroke along Aithusia’s head, crouching down to make sure to scratch behind her ears. The dragon’s eyes close as the rumble gets even louder.

“Arthur!”

“What?”

“Y-you’re making it worse?”

“Can’t you hear how happy she is, Merlin,” Arthur smirks, watching as Merlin starts trying to push at his shoulder, “why are you trying to make me stop?”

“It t-tickles!”

“Oh, well.”

“Arthur!”

He chuckles, standing up. Aithusa lifts her head off Merlin’s belly, wondering where the pats went. She stares up at Arthur with—well, they’re not puppy-dog eyes if they’re on a dragon, are they?

“Come on,” Arthur says softly, “hop up, now.”

He half-expects Aithusia to flop back down and sulk for a few minutes. Instead, his mouth drops open as she gets to her feet and steps aside, her head bowed low.

Merlin sits up, eyes wide. Aithusa stands perfectly still, her wings tucked to her sides, gaze on Arthur. Arthur swallows, reaching out.

“Aithusa?”

The dragon huffs gently, reaching out to nose at his hand. After a moment, she gives it a lick.

“What…what just happened?”

“I don’t know.” Merlin gets up, crouching down in front of her and running his hand over her head. “I think there’s something magical about her.”

“Yes, well noticed.”

“Quiet, prat. I’m concentrating.”

“Oh, well, don’t hurt yourself.”

Merlin doesn’t take the bait, murmuring quietly to himself as he waves his hand over Aithusia’s snout. Her scales begin to shimmer, almost as if Merlin’s hand is another source of light. His eyes widen.

Invisible to Arthur, a stream of magic reaches from Aithusia’s chest to Arthur’s glowing softly in the morning light. As he watches, it winds its way around her wings, her paws, her snout, her tongue where it still laps at Arthur’s hand. It pulses gently, drawing them closer.

“Merlin?” Merlin blinks. Arthur’s staring at him. “Is something wrong?”

“No, no, no,” Merlin says quickly, “no, uh, nothing’s wrong.”

Arthur rolls his eyes. “What is it, Merlin, it’s written all over your face, now tell me.”

“You’ve…um…”

“I’ve what?”

“You’ve got a bond,” he decides on finally, gesturing meekly between the two of them, “you’re magically connected.”

“I’m what?”

“Magically connected.”

“How?”

“I don’t know!” Merlin throws his hands up. “I’ve never raised a dragon before, and neither have you, thank you very much.”

Arthur pouts, neglecting to answer and instead stroking Aithusia’s head again. The dragon rumbles, leaning her head into his hand almost as if she were a horse. A soft noise escapes as they watch her eyes drift closed.

“She’s…” Arthur swallows through a suddenly-dry throat as he holds the dragon’s head in his hand. “…she’s bonded to me?”

“I don’t know how,” Merlin says, still staring at the line connecting them, “but…yes.”

Arthur sits hurriedly, cupping the dragon’s head in both of his hands. Her eyes blink open, staring at him with such a level of trust that it makes his head spin. He leans closer, stroking over the ridges of her eyes.

“You…we’re connected, huh, little one,” he murmurs, his palms growing warm, “isn’t that something?”

Beside him, he can feel Merlin’s magic grow stronger, feeding off the energy from the earth and the bond between the two of them. He reaches out and tugs Merlin closer, sitting him between them.

“She likes you,” Merlin says softly.

“Well, I’d hope so.”

“Not like how she likes me,” Merlin continues, patting the dragon’s wings. “She—well, I, um…she kind of has to like me.”

“If you’re about to tell me you can make this dragon do anything it doesn’t want to—“

“First off, I’m perfectly likable—“

“That’s up for debate.”

“—and second, I hatched her. I’m the last Dragonlord. We…” Merlin shrugs helplessly and rests his head against Aithusia’s flank. “Destiny decided we should be tied together.”

Arthur swallows, looking at the two of them. They make a good picture. Merlin is the greatest sorcerer to ever walk the earth. Aithusa is the last dragon. They fit together in ways that no other living things could ever hope to.

“But you…” Merlin looks at him with a smile. “You are my destiny.”

Something in Arthur’s chest glows warm. Merlin reaches out to tug him closer by his sleeve. He shuffles forward.

“You are mine,” Merlin says quietly, “and I am yours. Aithusa…Aithusa chose you.”

Oh.

Oh.

Arthur’s hands tremble on Aithusia’s face. The dragon huffs softly, blowing warm air onto their chests. He looks back at the dragon’s eyes. Warm, soft, a forest fire.

“I choose you too,” he says as firmly as he can, “and I…I hope to be worthy of it.”

“And see, that’s why we waited until you weren’t a prat anymore.”

“Are you saying I’m no longer a prat?”

“Oh, no, you’re definitely still a prat, just not as much of one.”

Aithusa snuffles, using her head to knock Merlin flat on his arse.

“Hey!”

Arthur chuckles. “What was that about her having to like you?”

“You knock me about every chance you get and you seem to like me just fine.”