#Gwaine also couldn’t stay in one place for a long time & was always moving around before getting knighted

[castelled-away]

@adhd-merlin i had some thoughts & just word-vomited everything into the tags (& I know you like Gwen so)

otp meme | [3/7] quotes

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

Merlin goes home for a little while, determined to enjoy a well-earned vacation;

Camelot immediately falls apart, with the sole exceptions of Guinevere and Gaius.

Merlin knows Arthur really well.

Which just means he knows exactly how to get him to let his servant go home for two weeks to visit his mother and relax a little:

“You just don’t want me to go because you know you can’t cope without me! Look, if you want to come with me, that’s fine, but you’ll struggle just as much there as you would here because I refuse to act as your servant in my own home.”

Arthur turns red, looking outraged as he loses the ability to speak. Merlin turns around before The King can see his satisfied smirk, tidying around the prat’s chambers with exaggerated annoyance as he just waits for the inevitable-

“Fine! Go! See if I even notice that you’re gone! Honestly, Merlin, the running of the Kingdom will probably end up going smoother without you here to mess things up, you bumbling idiot.”

Merlin grins to himself before schooling his face back into annoyance and turning around with a huff, crossing his arms petulantly:

“Fine!”

The servant decides that he’d better leave, what with the way he was struggling to keep the victorious grin from his face, so without waiting for a response, he “storms” from the room, slamming the door behind him as dramatically as he’s able when he hears Arthur yell:

“FINE!”

~

Merlin sets off at the beginning of the next week. Gaius had raised a disapproving eyebrow when his ward had told him how he’d gotten Arthur to agree to such a long vacation, but didn’t say anything. They both knew that the elderly physician thought it was funny.

Gwen and Morgana make sure to see him out of the castle gates with big hugs, and whilst all of the knights were meant to be training, it came as no surprise to anyone when Gwaine slacks off for half a candle-mark to say goodbye as well. Mordred shoots him a quick goodbye across their mental link as the servant walks away from the city, after promising Merlin that he would warn him if anyone was in any serious danger (”Serious danger only, Mordred, I mean it. If I get called home because Arthur is throwing some sort of tantrum, then I’ll act out your destiny for you.”).

Merlin’s journey goes smoothly. The world was hovering in the junction between Spring and Summer, but with a little magical manipulation, the Warlock had no trouble staying warm and keeping his feet beneath him on the uneven path. Unsurprisingly, the young man is a lot less clumsy when he doesn’t have to focus on keeping his magic locked away so tightly.

Two days after his departure from Camelot, his mother is greeting him outside her little house with a long hug and a wide grin, stroking a hand through his hair as she welcomes him home.

Coincidentally, that’s also about the time things started going to shit for everyone else.

~

It was just after noon when Elyan had to be carried to Gaius’ chambers, his whole body juddering as he struggles to draw breath, the lack of oxygen from his throat closing up mixed with the panic making his brain go fuzzy.

Percival holds him up from one side and Leon holds him from the other, the two of them bursting through the physician’s door just as Elyan’s eyes roll back in his head. Gaius looks up suddenly, obviously startled by the abrupt intrusion, but he swiftly focuses, eyes wide and assessing as he quickly points them to a patient pallet:

“What happened?”

The two knights lay him down as carefully as they can before standing out of the way as Leon forces out an answer, trying to catch his breath between words:

“I don’t know, servants brought lunch out whilst we were training so we stopped to eat and he just started... wheezing. We thought he was choking at first but he said he couldn’t breathe. Has... has he been poisoned? We stopped everyone from eating.”

Gaius had gathered a handful of odd looking dried leaves the moment Leon mentioned the food, recognising the symptoms of an allergic reaction and putting two and two together immediately. He crushes them in his hands quickly, knowing he didn’t have time for a proper mortar and pestle as he shoves the crumbs into Elyan’s mouth, following through with a vile of something green and gross-smelling

He massages the odd concoction down Elyan’s throat as best he can around the swelling, and lets out a relieved smile when the knight’s eyes blow wide open and he chokes slightly before swallowing it all, grimacing at the taste but breathing deeply as his airways open again.

Leon and Percival let out similar breathes of relief when Elyan begins breathing again, chuckling breathlessly at his disgusted groan. The door bursts open again before anyone can say anything, and Arthur strides in, his flushed cheeks and rumpled clothes implying he had sprinted across the castle in his panic.

He spots Elyan on the pallet, his deep breaths interspersed with the odd cough, and his eyes widen even further as he looks to Gaius for an explanation:

“A servant told me something was wrong, what happened?!”

The King loses a little of the tension in his shoulders when Elyan waves a thumbs-up in his vague direction, but still looks frantically between the two knights and the physician as he waits for an answer. Percival wordlessly moves to Elyan’s side, running a hand up and down the man’s arm as Leon looks to Gaius expectantly:

“He had an allergic reaction, likely to nuts in the food. He should be fine, but he needs a day or two of rest, and to come back to me immediately if his throat swells again.”

Arthur sags in relief, nodding his approval of Elyan’s needed bedrest, but Leon’s eyes go wide as he lets out a knowing noise:

“Of course! I forgot about his allergy, it hasn’t been an issue since we were kids.”

Gaius nods knowingly and begins reorganising the jars he had knocked over when the knights had startled him:

“Hmm. I imagine he watched what he ate carefully when he was travelling, but Merlin keeps an eye on all of your food now.”

Leon frowns slightly as he tilts his head in confusion, but Arthur beats him to the punch, asking incredulously:

“What do you mean, Merlin keeps an eye on our food?”

Gaius raises an eyebrow, holding in his smirk as he slowly replies:

“Well, Merlin is usually the one to bring food out to you when you train, is he not? And on days he can’t he always speaks with the kitchen staff to double check what food is going where. Sir Elyan is not the only one with an allergy, My Lord. Merlin always makes sure any food the seven of you are given is safe. He has a tendency to check the Lady Morgana’s meals as well, whenever he’s able.”

Arthur is too taken aback to reply, his mouth hanging open, but that is when Percival looks up from his place at Elyan’s side, a confused frown on his face:

“Why?”

Gaius doesn’t manage to hold his smile in at that, looking between the three knights, and Elyan, who has just about managed to regain his breath:

“To avoid situations like this, I imagine, and to check for poison. It’s not uncommon for assassins to try and lace the royal’s food with something or other.”

Arthur finally shuts his mouth, only to open it again, speaking slowly:

“So... Merlin checks all of our food?”

Gaius nods:

“Religiously, Sire.”

Leon and Percival just shrug, adding it to their list of Weird Things About Merlin That They Should Be Grateful For, and Elyan smiles goofily from his place on the bed (whether it was the lack of oxygen or something funky in the vial, the knight didn’t know, but he was definitely still feeling a little... odd), but Arthur just frowns deeper, muttering a distracted “Take it easy.” to Elyan before walking stiffly from the room.

The King makes quick work of the journey back to the council meeting, desperately trying to persuade himself that this was nothing to do with him not being able to cope without Merlin. Elyan was the one not coping, clearly. Merlin was still wrong and stupid and Arthur hadn’t even noticed that he was gone until Gaius brought him up (a lie, he missed him terribly, but shhh).

Leon and Percival look to Gaius in confusion when Arthur had almost stormed from the room, and the Physician simply smiles again, the amusement shining clearly in his eyes:

“Merlin persuaded Arthur to let him take a holiday by heavily implying that he couldn’t cope with Merlin’s absence.”

Percival snorts with laughter and Leon raises an eyebrow as he grins:

“Arthur took that as a challenge then, I suppose? Two days in and we’ve already got The King sprinting from meetings because a knight has collapsed from an allergic reaction... because Merlin wasn’t here...”

Gaius just nods, and Percival mutters an amused:

“This will be entertaining.”

~

Arthur steadfastly refuses to acknowledge that the next mini disaster, a few days later, was also down to Merlin’s absence.

Ok, so maybe it was because Merlin wasn’t here, but ultimately, it was Gwaine that messed up, not Arthur. So it didn’t count.

The knight came back from a night patrol that he’d taken with The King with an infected gash on his arm. Arthur grins teasingly as he describes to Gaius how the knight had tripped on a loose cobblestone and scratched his arm on the sharp edge of a stray cart at the beginning of the patrol, and Gaius hums disapprovingly as he unwraps the scrap of fabric Gwaine had used as a bandage:

“Did you not have any medical supplies in your pack? Or did you think it best to let it get infected so I had to wake an hour before dawn to deal with it?”

Gwaine swings his dangling legs back and forth from where he sits on Gaius’ table, pouting sheepishly as he admits:

“I looked, but there wasn’t anything helpful in there, usually the armoury-hands have them stocked up for the patrols, I guess they missed mine.”

Arthur rolls his eyes at Gwaine’s seeming ineptitude, but his scolding is interrupted before it even begins when Gaius shakes his head in disagreement:

“Hmm. The servants that work in the armoury only tend to check the packs every few weeks, and even then they only check if they need any repairs. Merlin is the one with easier access to patrol rotas, so he’s the one who stocks them up on a day to day basis.”

Gwaine just nods in understanding, as if he should’ve expected that, but Arthur’s smile drops as he unfolds his arms, getting over his annoyed speechlessness in a matter of seconds:

“You’re telling me that Merlin, my personal manservant, is responsible for all the knights’ patrol packs?”

Gaius finishes cleaning Gwaine’s wound, muttering a quiet apology when the knight hisses at the first poke of the needle, speaking slowly as he focuses on making sure the stitches were neat and uniform:

“No, Sire. Technically the knights are meant to take care of their own packs, but Merlin is a paranoid man, he likes to double check things to make sure everyone has what they need. I suppose some people got used to having it done for them.”

Gwaine winces abashedly, making a mental note to remind the others to check their packs before their next patrols, but Arthur rolls his eyes, crossing his arms again and immediately accepting that this little incident was therefore Gwaine’s fault, and not down to Merlin's absence.

The voice in his head sounded a little doubtful, but he ignores it, choosing instead to chide his rebellious:

“Do try to pay attention to your own responsibilities, Sir Gwaine, I’d hate to see something terrible happen to you because you’re unable to complete your own simple tasks.”

Gwaine just sticks his tongue out petulantly, looking away from The King before he can see the blonde’s rolled eyes. Arthur huffs at his childishness, turning around to cover his grin and speaking over his shoulder as he walks from the room:

“You will be on time for once, Gwaine, training starts in a few hours and I want to see you bright and early.”

Gwaine just smirks, waiting for the door to shut behind Arthur before moving his sly, curious eyes to the physician in front of him:

“He’s missing Merlin, then?”

Gaius just gives him a knowing glance before looking back down at the now stitched gash, gathering bandages:

“I’d imagine so, though he’d never admit it. Merlin implied that Arthur wouldn’t cope with his absence,-”

Gwaine interrupts him with a laugh:

“Hence his insistence that it was entirely my fault?”

Gaius nods wordlessly, and Gwaine snorts, shaking his head in amused disbelief.

Meanwhile, Arthur stalks back towards his chambers, eager to get out of his armour and get into bed; Gwaine had training in a few hours, but so did he, and he needed at least a little sleep. He purses his lips in annoyance as his gaze falls upon the clinical cleanliness of his room... George had been in then. 

Look... Arthur being used to a slightly messy room did NOT mean he depended on Merlin. And Gwaine not being used to having to actually organise himself ALSO didn’t mean that Merlin was... ok. Maybe Gwaine relies on Merlin a little.

So that’s Sir Elyan and Sir Gwaine, two of The King’s most trusted knights, who can’t cope without Merlin. But Arthur is doing just fine. It’s been half a week and he is just. Fine.

Just fine.

~

It was the next day that things began going wrong a little more... drastically.

George wakes Arthur up for training on time because of course he does. Arthur had found himself losing out on a lot of sleep without Merlin insisting he go to bed at a reasonable time, and waking him up late; Merlin had gotten into the habit of snatching Arthur’s paperwork away and holding it out of reach until The King agreed to go to sleep, and somehow manages to fit Arthur’s entire morning routine into half a candle-mark. George would never snatch away Arthur’s paperwork, and he takes so much longer in the mornings meaning Arthur has to wake up earlier.

Not that Arthur would ever admit to enjoying his and Merlin’s unorthodox routines. 

Eight more days to go, and he’s fine.

At least... that’s what he thought until a nameless guard approaches the training field, waving him over from his spar with Mordred. Arthur strides over quickly, annoyed at the interruption and nodding at the guard to speak as he drinks from his water-skin:

“My Lord, Lord Halbert and Lady Ethel have arrived. I believe they’re waiting for your presence in the courtyard.”

Arthur chokes, managing to turn his head to the side just in time before he spits a mouthful of water over the guards face. He quickly wipes his mouth and turns back to the pour armoured man with wide eyes:

“That’s today?!

The guard nods hesitatingly:

“Yes, Sire, would you like me-”

He’s interrupted when Arthur shouts a hurried:

“Fuck!” as he drops his water-skin and begins sprinting up the field towards the castle, desperately trying to calculate if he had enough time to wash and change before they got antsy with waiting. Probably not.

Seeing Arthur’s panic and hearing his loud curse, Leon hurriedly approaches the guard, putting a friendly hand on his shoulder as he speaks with a frown:

“Gavin? Is everything alright?”

The guard, Gavin, looks to Leon with a confused frown:

“It would appear that His Majesty... misremembered the date of Lord Halbert and Lady Ethel’s arrival.”

Leon’s eyes go wide and he glances quickly to the castle as he rushes out an exclamation identical to Arthur’s:

“That’s today?!”

Gavin just nods again, and Leon drops the hand from his shoulder, letting out a loud:

“Shit!” as he recreates Arthur’s sprint up to the castle, knowing that he was expected to be at The King’s side when welcoming guests. He doesn’t pause, even when he shouts:

“Lancelot’s in charge!” over his shoulder.

The knights all look to each other in amusement, but Lancelot quickly takes charge, running drills as if he had been doing it his entire life and trusting that, whatever it was, Arthur could get things sorted. And if Arthur couldn’t get things sorted, then Leon would get things sorted. And if Leon couldn’t get things sorted, then Merlin would... oh.

He glances worriedly to the castle just as Leon falls through the door, not bothering to shut it behind him in his panic. Oh.

Arthur lets out the deepest breath of relief he thinks he’s ever experienced when he sees George ahead of him in the corridor; he gestures him over hastily, making the servant jog to keep up with him as he continues his fast pace down the hall:

“I don’t care how many other servants you have to pull from their duties, but I need the castle prepped for Halbert and Ethel’s arrival right now.-”

Arthur barely pays attention to George’s faltering step of shock, just stops suddenly in front of the door that leads down to the courtyard, turning to the servant and putting both hands on his shoulder as he stares at him intensely, face flushed and breathing harsh:

“I need you to do this for me, George. Prepare guest chambers, send someone down to show them to the right rooms, and make sure the Kitchens know they’re feeding two extra nobles for three days, starting today. If you can organise all of that in the next two minutes, I’ll give you a raise and a Godamn hug, you hear me?!”

George gulps, his shoulders tense, his face pale, and his breath frozen in his lungs as he meets Arthur’s frantic gaze with wide eyes. He gives a shaky nod, instantly turning and sprinting down the corridor without a word when Arthur lets go. 

Leon skids around the corner, moving to stand next to Arthur with his hands on his knees as he attempts to catch his breath, speaking in a slight wheeze:

“I... I left Lance... in charge.”

Arthur nods in approval, pulling Leon to stand before holding his hands out to the side, presenting himself for inspection. Leon takes one last deep breath, smoothing the training tunic over Arthur’s shoulders, attempting to rub the dirt from his nose, and brushing a quick hand through his hair before stepping back and holding his own arms out. Arthur pulls a leaf from behind his ear, but is otherwise satisfied, and the two of them turn to the door, schooling their faces and stepping down into the courtyard.

Arthur has a calm, welcoming smile on his face, and Leon stands stiffly behind him, hand on the sword that he luckily had on his hip as he stares blankly ahead.

The nobles seem taken aback at The King's state of undress, but don’t say anything, covering their shock quickly. Arthur’s hoping that his friendly attitude will just give the impression that he’s...approachable and slightly laid back, as opposed to just an idiot who forgot they were coming because no one had reminded him.

Gods. Merlin can never know about this.

~

Thankfully, the next three days went smoothly, or at least as smoothly as possible after Arthur spent an hour rifling through his old mail to try and figure out the original reason for Lord Halbert and Lady Ethel’s visit (watching their eldest’s knighting ceremony, and discussing with Arthur the potential for their youngest to move to the city to become a squire).

He waves them off in a much more regal manner than he had welcomed them, and keeps his promise to George, upping his pay slightly; though he exchanges the hug for an awkward pat on the shoulder, which he thinks both of them were grateful for.

~

He’d successfully made it through nine days. Semi-successfully. He’d just about made it through nine days.

Five more to go. But Arthur was feeling fine about those five days. He’d double checked all his mail, and made sure to find out when his patrols were scheduled.

Which is... unknown to Arthur, where the next problem stems from. 

Arthur wasn’t the one to rota the patrols, he really didn’t have the time to sit down with a list of names and hours and times and maps and organise everything fairly, it was difficult and time-consuming, but he made sure that Leon knew exactly how many hours he could give up for patrol each week.

Apparently, the communication between Leon and the council was normally handled by Merlin, who wasn’t there. So whilst Arthur was enjoying a solo patrol along the city borders at noon, waving at citizens and making his horse do tricks for giggling children, the council were sitting around the table, waiting rather irately for his arrival.

Now normally, this could’ve been easily dealt with, but when the same guard from three days ago gallops over to inform him of the problem and take over his patrol, Arthur was reminded rather suddenly that Merlin was always the one that came up with sensible sounding excuses.

(He also makes a mental note to avoid that guard forever out of embarrassment.)

This was one of the very rare occasions when Arthur simply glares the council into submission. Normally he likes to work with them; he hates to feel like they're just doing what he wants because they were kissing his arse, but he has no excuse other than “I forgot.” and he felt like that was worse than just.. acting like a bit of a dick for five minutes.

So... yeah. Merlin wasn’t there to reorganise the council meeting around Arthur’s patrol, and then also wasn’t there to come up with an excuse for why it wasn’t reorganised.

Arthur makes it ten days before he admits to himself that perhaps he relies on his manservant just a little too much.

~

Four days later, Arthur had missed another council meeting (despite his best efforts), Lancelot and Mordred had accidentally insulted some visiting Lord (and had therefore been told not to leave their rooms until he had vacated the city), and Gwen was no longer speaking to him, on account of The King being a dick without realising because Merlin wasn’t there to rein in his ego and... well... dickishness. That, and his crown had somehow gone missing between yesterday morning and now.

(If that last one had happened even a week prior, Arthur would’ve been adamant that it had been stolen or something else equally not-his-fault, but with how quickly he’d been made aware of his apparent bad memory and social clumsiness, he had every faith that he’d just misplaced it, and Merlin would know exactly where to look.)

Arthur was sitting on the courtyard steps, tunic unlaced at the top and hair a mess when his servant finally, finally walks through the castle gates. The King perks up slightly, but refuses to give Merlin the satisfaction of being run to, so forces himself to remain in place. He was especially glad that he’d made that decision when he saw Guinevere spring over to greet him. He has a feeling she won’t be all that... welcoming, at least not yet.

Merlin wraps her in a tight hug and Arthur forces down the swell of jealousy in his lungs, especially when he laughs brightly and pulls back to clasp her shoulders. Arthur sees Gwen’s face fall at a question Merlin had asked and he gulps, biting his lip when Merlin frowns and raises an incredulous eyebrow at her response. She points in Arthur’s direction, and The King’s eyes go wide as he rapidly stands, failing miserably at looking as though he weren’t staring in their direction. Guinevere rolls her eyes before giving Merlin one last hug and walking very deliberately in the opposite direction to Arthur.

Merlin marches towards him, slight annoyance mixing with a secret eagerness to check on Arthur speeding up his normal pace significantly. Before the servant can say anything, Arthur grabs his wrist, pulling him up the steps and through the castle without a word, tugging harshly every time Merlin opens his mouth to demand an explanation for himself or an apology for Gwen.

When they finally reach his chambers, Arthur quickly locks the door behind him, whirling on an angry Merlin with flushed cheeks and a desperate look in his eyes:

“I swear Merlin, I will never doubt you again, but Elyan almost died, Gwaine got an infection, Leon and I forgot about Ethel and Halbert, Lancelot and Mordred are essentially under house arrest, I missed two council meetings, lost my crown, and now Gwen’s not talking to me. You’re never allowed to leave me again.”

Merlin freezes in place, staring at Arthur with wide eyes and an open mouth for a few moments before he bursts into laugher. Arthur huffs, crossing his arms as his blush deepens, but waits patiently instead of demanding that Merlin stop. Honestly? He may have been laughing at Arthur, but it was still the most beautiful sound The King had heard in two weeks, and he’d definitely missed it. Which is... something to think about at a later date.

Merlin finally relents, his dimples showing prominently as he holds in another round of giggles at Arthur’s red face. The servant drops his pack to the floor, stepping forward and not giving Arthur time to move away before he pulls him into a tight hug, sighing contentedly at the warm contact:

“I missed you too, you prat. You’ll just have to come with me next time and we can leave Gwen and Gaius in charge.”

Arthur huffs out a gentle laugh, finally wrapping his arms around Merlin’s middle tightly and burying his face in the slightly taller man’s hair:

“I did. Miss you, I mean. And I also mean it when I say you’re never going anywhere without me again, this has been a nightmare.”

Merlin snorts, tightening his grip on Arthur as if he were trying to squeeze all of the stress out of him:

“Co-dependency isn’t the healthiest thing in the world, you know.”

Arthur just huffs, refusing to let go as he petulantly responds:

“I don’t care. I’m The King, I can do what I want.”

Arthur can almost feel Merlin rolling his eyes, but the servant just laughs again and seems to nod in agreement:

“Hmm. That excuse is going to come back to haunt you one day. Heard you gave George a raise?”

The blonde tenses in embarrassment, now refusing to pull away so Merlin wouldn’t see his pink cheeks:

“Uh... yeah. He cleans too much and is shit at coming up with plausible excuses, but he did save my arse a few times.”

Arthur can feel Merlin’s laugh vibrate through his ribcage, and though the man was usually rather touch averse, he found he never wanted the feeling to stop. He found himself hoping that Merlin felt the same when The King chuckles at his response:

“Oh yeah? Does that mean I get a raise for being good at excuses and bad at cleaning?”

~

THE END!!! 

Literally wrote this in one day so... sorry if it’s bad😅

Had no clue how I was going to end it until I got there, my thought process essentially just went “Hugs? Yeah. Hugs hugs hugs hugs hugs.” :D

Same as always lads, you wanna write it out in full or remix it or whatever, go for it, just drop me a message and credit/tag me :)

[colorofmymindposts]

As Long As He's Safe

Fandom: BBC Merlin 

Pairing: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon 

Rating: Teen 

Status: Complete 

Word Count: 1198

Summary: "Arthur was used to the wounded. He’d been treated for many injuries since he first started training as a knight, seen his fellow brothers fall beside him in battle, some never to return to their feet. It was a rare instance, if he was wounded, that he was in mortal peril. But whenever Merlin managed to cross into the foray of the lances and spears and poisoned goblets, it was always catastrophic."

Merlin is injured in an attack, Arthur cares for him, and certain revelations are made about the bond between the king and his sorcerer.

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Feelings Realization kind of, Like They Know But They Don't Know Because They're Idiots, But Nothing Like A Near-Mortal Injury To Bring You And Your Bae-To-Be Closer Together, How Do I Tag

Notes: This can also be read on ao3! 

Story: Arthur was used to the wounded. He’d been treated for many injuries since he first started training as a knight, seen his fellow brothers fall beside him in battle, some never to return to their feet. It was a rare instance, if he was wounded, that he was in mortal peril. 

But whenever Merlin managed to cross into the foray of the lances and spears and poisoned goblets, it was always catastrophic. 

“It’s bad, isn’t it?” his court sorcerer asked breathlessly. 

Currently, he had his back propped up against a tree, wincing slightly as Arthur knotted his scarlet cloak around Merlin’s bloody midriff. It was not good, Arthur had enough sense to admit to himself at any rate. 

Everything had happened so quickly, as attacks and wounds always did in the heat of battle. The bandits had come upon Arthur, Merlin, Gwaine, and Leon without warning in the Darkling Woods as they returned from visiting the towns further out from the citadel. They had all fought in earnest, but it had been Merlin who pinned the rogues against the trees, felled branches in convenient places, transformed their weapons into bouquets of daisies. It had been an easy fight, as most of them had been since Merlin started openly using his magic. 

Arthur had just dispatched the last bandit when he turned to see a blade protruding from Merlin’s stomach, the helm held by a dying bandit half on the ground. Truthfully, he only vaguely registered Leon’s and Gwaine’s anguished cries, he had been so caught up in the horrific sight of the blood pouring out of the wound and then spilling dark red over Merlin’s lips and chin as he coughed more up. Arthur’s sword fell from his hand, and he rushed forward to catch his friend as it was clear Merlin’s legs could no longer support him. With an arm wrapped around his midriff and neck, Arthur had slowly lowered Merlin to lean against the tree, careful of the weapon still very much burrowed inside. Pulling it out would have only increased the likelihood of him bleeding out faster. Distantly, he had heard Gwaine end the bandit’s life with a string of curses. 

In a panic, Arthur had sent Leon and Gwaine to retrieve Gaius at breakneck speed, trusting he could attend to Merlin and stay the bleeding in the meantime. Neither had questioned the order. Now, he was praying to any god that would listen that Merlin could be spared from death. 

“Gaius will be here soon,” was his answer, because it was and always had been easier for him to avoid the truth than outright lie. “Why couldn’t you just heal yourself with magic?” 

“I’ve told you, I’m not good with healing magic,” Merlin explained in a tired way. “Would’ve saved me a lot of trouble with you if I was.” 

The younger man’s eyelids began to droop and flutter close, and Arthur knew what that inevitably led to. He placed his gloved hand on Merlin’s shoulder, shaking it slightly to rouse him, only getting Merlin to open his eyes, which were worriedly unfocused. In an attempt to ground him, Arthur threw off his glove and threaded his fingers through the man’s hair, and Merlin rasped a breath in surprise. 

“You are not allowed to die, Merlin,” Arthur stated, attempting to sound firm but failing. “That’s an order from your king.” 

“You know how well I listen to those,” he said with mirth sparkling in his eyes. 

Those eyes, whether they reflected the cool waters of Avalon or the fiery light of the sun, was something Arthur was finding himself increasingly lost in nowadays. 

“Then do it for me. Stay for me.” 

He always struggled not to make everything sound like a command, but he hoped Merlin would hear it as it was meant to be: a plea. The court sorcerer’s gaze seemed to soften in turn. 

“I would never leave you, Arthur. Not if I can help it.” 

Merlin grimaced as he shifted slightly, and Arthur gripped his hip firmly with a spare hand. 

“Don’t move. What do you need?” 

“Water,” Merlin mumbled. “Mouth tastes funny.” 

Luckily, Arthur still had a mostly full waterskin on his person. With care, he lifted it to Merlin’s lips who then drank in steady gulps. After the man was done, Arthur took the waterskin and Merlin’s neckerchief, adorned round his neck, and reverently wiped away the dried blood from his face. In the years that Merlin had used magic and Arthur had known, he as king had become used to the sorcerer’s seemingly unlimited power and assumed Merlin to be invulnerable to practically any threat. It had been a very long time since he had to look at Merlin’s prone, lithe form and feel any cause to worry. 

“There. Now you look half decent,” Arthur assessed, eyes purposefully averting the sword still in Merlin’s stomach.

Even in his state, skirting close to death, Merlin was willing to play along. “Half?” He asked, mock-offended. “What would I have to do to look fully decent?” 

“Get rid of that neckerchief for a start.” 

“In your dreams, clotpole,” Merlin grinned. 

But it was just a shadow of the smiles that warmed Arthur’s heart on even the darkest of days. A sense of desperation hit him keenly, and the reason for the depth of his worry, his fear that Merlin would not make it out of this alive made itself known in his heart—it was not the undercurrent of feeling that ran his veins when a brother in arms was felled, this was a much deeper, more complex and all-consuming force, an unspoken love that had likely controlled his heart and mind for some time now finally making itself known. 

Arthur surged from where he was crouched, pressing an impassioned kiss to Merlin’s forehead, hoping to impress all of his love that he vainly hoped could sustain the other man. 

“There is something I must tell you. Something you must know now,” he whispered brokenly, lips forming the words against the sorcerer’s brow. 

“I thought I was the only one keeping secrets,” Merlin spoke just as quietly. 

“Still?” Arthur questioned, dread starting to settle in his gut, the familiar fear of betrayal fresh even after all these years. He did not break the contact between them, though. “What more don’t I know?” 

“It’s just the one secret now,” Merlin reassured softly. “I think it may be the same as yours.” 

The rushed gallop of three horses sounded the approach of Leon, Gwaine, and now Gaius, the former two helping the physician off of his horse and over to where they had left Arthur and Merlin. 

“Sire, Merlin, I—” Arthur finally willed himself to draw back from the court sorcerer as Gaius hovered above them with his medical supplies. “I must see to Merlin’s wounds immediately, sire, if he is to be healed.” 

“Of course,” the king said as he stepped away. “Do everything you can for him.” 

They would have time for these things, Arthur reasoned to himself as he watched Gaius tend to Merlin. Time to talk, to hold, and, potentially, to love without fear of it all slipping away.

[bellamyblakru]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He missed Gwaine.

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

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

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

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

The lie left a bitter taste in his mouth.

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

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

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

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

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

“How long do we have?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Protect them. Protect them.

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

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

Same shit, as always.

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

He couldn’t help it, honestly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He heard Gwaine sigh, “Merls?”

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

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

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

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

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

That wasn’t the plan.

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

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

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

“This stops. Now.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m fine, I promise.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gwaine flinched, “Oh. That.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[bgnmagic]

The Ravages of Time

Saw a great prompt from @chaoticdweeb about Arthur coming back and not realizing Merlin was alive, and the relief he’d feel when he did find him. This angsty monster was born, but it has a happy ending!

Work:

The feeling of water pushing against every part of his body drove Arthur into a panic. He was underwater and couldn’t breathe. Struggling to think Arthur could only kick with his feet when he touched bottom. The chainmail and armor weighed him down and made swimming impossible. However, the need to find air drove Arthur to continue his efforts. Nothing was clear in his muddled brain, he simply needed to survive.

Breaking the surface of the water, Arthur gasped in a lung full of air and looked around. Thank the goddess the bottom was shallow; he could walk without fear of drowning. Fighting through the mud and reeds Arthur collapsed on the bank a few minutes later. Coughing and working to regain his breath, Arthur mind was slow to recover.

Why were his memories so hazy? The adrenaline coursing through his system prevented the cold water and night air from having an effect.  Though, Arthur knew if he didn’t seek shelter and start a fire soon he’d risk becoming ill or worse. If only he had Merlin with him.

The onslaught of memories that came with that simple thought caused Arthur to cry out. Visions of battles flashed before him. Arguments and hurt feelings from those he loved made his chest ache. Betrayals and worrisome revelations made Arthur grasp his side reflexively. Nothing was felt besides a phantom sting.

Finally a memory of forgiveness overtook him. Merlin had magic. Merlin had lied to him but he was still there helping him despite the punishment for such things. Looking around again Arthur called Merlin’s name. Perhaps he was still here?

It was dark out and the details for this godsforsaken place were hard to glean, but Arthur thought maybe he was at the lake that Merlin had taken him to after he’d been wounded. He’d survived that, right? Arthur furrowed his brow and tried to stay calm as he worked to remember what had happened. Merlin had been there and he’d asked his friend to hold him.

Flinching at the vivid memory of that moment Arthur realized things were not well. In an uncharacteristic move Arthur began loudly calling for Merlin. He didn’t cease his efforts until his throat hurt. Forcing his aching body to stand he surveyed the area looking for anything familiar. Faint sounds of something roaring came and went. Whatever it was Arthur didn’t want to go near it. Catching sight of a strange light in the distance he set off to see what he could find.

Trudging to a stop in front the oddest looking thing he’d ever seen Arthur began to worry that he’d been cursed. The light he’d spotted was sitting high atop a long straight pole. The surrounding area was unnaturally flat and had vibrant colored lines drawn on it. Was this some kind of druid encampment?

Looking around revealed no other signs of life. Forced to move on Arthur was wary of the flat surface, and chose to walk along the grass next to it. He was already in some sort of trouble and getting sucked into a magical trap didn’t sound appealing. Though it looked harmless enough, it was really the lines that gave him pause. Sorcerers used markings and patterns for some of their incantations. Otherwise, it appeared to serve the same function as a dirt path.

The flat path continued on with more tall lights and eventually stopped and joined several others of a similar nature. Thankfully, the colored lines stopped and Arthur felt comfortable walking along it. Maybe it was just a road. Following the path for another twenty minutes led him to a small cottage. The style was one he’d not seen before. The roof covered in something that looked like stone but wasn’t.

It also had another light illuminating its entrance. Who had come out to light all these? The light the lamps gave off never flickered and that bothered Arthur. How could such a bright light not waver? Cautiously he approached the building and tried the door. It was locked, walking around he began to peer into the windows. The glass was smooth and so clear, unlike anything he’d ever seen. Vague shapes stood out in the darkness of the interior, it appeared to be a working building of some kind. Maybe that meant the owners lived nearby.

Spurred on by a renewed sense of hope Arthur ran back out to the flat pathway and began looking for more buildings. He needed to find shelter soon anyway, his clothes were soaked and the night air was making him shiver. This place had plenty of wood to burn but he had no flint. Starting a fire would be tricky.

Taking a calming breath Arthur strode out into the eerie light and vowed to survive this ordeal. He’d find Merlin and they’d figure out what to do, just like they always did.

--

Merlin shot up in bed sweating and breathing hard. His nightmare was oh so vivid and very disturbing. The image of someone he had to fight to remember came so clearly to him it almost made Merlin sick. The blond hair, the blue eyes, everything quintessentially Arthur and it was in his head again. His king had been drowning, but managed to fight off death. Merlin’s breath was still erratic as he cast the sheets aside and got up.

Was this real? Could it be finally happening after so many years? What a cruel joke to do it when he was so far from home. The past fifteen hundred years had been a compilation of many lifetimes. The memory of Arthur coming and going and only getting fuzzier by the century, it was so distorted by now that Merlin worried he’d forget what his friend looked like.

However, his memory was newly restored by the alarming dream he’d experienced. Having never felt his magic surge in such a way Merlin knew he couldn’t ignore this sign. He had to go home and check the lake. Rushing around the small apartment he’d let, Merlin packed his bags without much care. The small cottage back in England had all his life’s possessions it, this place wasn’t home.

Cursing at being so unprepared for an emergency trip home Merlin made sure the stove and lights were off before he stumbled through the door and hailed a taxi. Destiny was a bitch. Living in Buenos Aires for the past year had been a good experience. Merlin had found several magic users and was able to help them hone their skills. The discovery that helping others strengthen their magic made his stronger had been surprising. The dragon had always said he was magic itself, it only made sense.

Living in a city that never sleeps made hailing a cab easy. Chucking his bag in the seat Merlin asked the driver to take him to the airport. He had a long flight ahead of him.

--

The day brought with it a new set of challenges. People. Arthur stayed hidden in the tree line where he’d found a little place to hunker down for the rest of the night. Forced to wear his wet clothing Arthur was certain he was coming down with a cold. Unable to start a fire Arthur had waited for the warmth of the sun to better assess his situation.

This place, with the flat pathway was very strange. The moment the sun rose people began showing up, but they were all walking or running. Some had dogs on a leash; others had little strings coming out of their ears. They all were dressed like idiots. Not a lick of protective clothing amongst the lot of them. It was all tight fitting and showed every lump and bump.

Deciding that staying out of sight was a better choice, due to his appearance not matching, Arthur waited and watched. Trying to ignore the slight chill he could feel creeping into his bones. Wondering where these people were going to in such a hurry Arthur was surprised when a few came back. He recognized their awful bright clothing. Why were they out running from one place to another without purpose?

Giving up on watching after several hours, Arthur picked his way through he forest in search of food. When the sound of voices reached his ears Arthur ducked down to observe. In a clearing up ahead sat a man and a woman. They were eating funny looking little bits of food in shiny paper. As he edged closer to hear better Arthur realized he could barely understand what they were saying. The language wasn’t anything he’d heard before. Only able to pick up a few words Arthur waited to see what they would do.

Turns out the thing they did was distracting enough for Arthur to sneak up and grab some food out of their odd looking bag. Guess some things never change. Swiftly running away back the way he came, only stopping when he could no longer hear the couple’s moans of passion.

Unsure what was worse, Gwaine’s gruel or this loaf of compressed fiber, Arthur stuffed his face. The need for substance outweighed his need for flavor. When night came again, the people all left and he was alone once more. With only the pale light of the moon as company Arthur settled down for the evening. One improvement however, was a fire. Arthur had found better supplies and managed to get some dried leaves to spark to life with two sticks.

Sitting by himself Arthur began to wonder what to do. He’d have to leave eventually. Hunger alone was going to drive him if nothing else. Unsure of what lay outside of the boundaries, Arthur wished he had his sword. No one else seemed to carry weapons here but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t need it. Deciding that he needed to investigate more Arthur curled up and attempted to sleep. He’d need as much rest as he could get.

--

Nearly thirty six hours later Merlin was standing outside of Heathrow and blinking blearily. The sun was going down again and he needed to rent a car. Trudging over to the rental station Merlin managed to wake up enough to rent a vehicle and he set off. The drive took hours as he’d timed it perfectly to get stuck in rush hour traffic.

Merlin’s magic was humming under his skin and pulsing stronger and stronger the closer he got to home. That had to mean something.

Time went by in a blur as he rushed towards his destination. The lake, the place Merlin hardly visited anymore. It only served to remind him that he couldn’t think of all the little details that made Arthur, Arthur anymore. Time had done a number on Merlin, some decades had been bad, others good. The first few years after Arthur’s death, Merlin had tried to help out in Camelot but it was hard. Eventually everyone grew gray hair and passed.

The cold hard truth of his immortality became apparent after that. The next century after that was filled with rage. After nearly taking his own life some thirteen hundred years prior Merlin had decided that he didn’t want to live like that.  If Arthur was to return someday Merlin vowed he would work to make it a better place for his king.

History worked its course and wars and other terrible things came and went. Through it all Merlin stayed strong and lived his life. Finding other magic users around the world helped keep him sane. There were more and more each year and Merlin found purpose in teaching the old ways and working to help the world rather than be mad at it.

This passage of time was difficult but he managed. The only casualty being his memories of Arthur, Merlin didn’t want to forget, but time was stronger than he was. Fifteen hundred years was a long time and things faded even though he fought it.

Now as Merlin drove through the countryside towards the lake, he was trying desperately to bring back all his lost memories. Left with his vision of dream Arthur in peril Merlin could barely keep his panic at bay. This had to be real, if Merlin got to the lake and Arthur wasn’t there again, he didn’t know what he’d do.

The gates were locked, to the park surrounding the lake, when Merlin arrived. Sunrise to sunset said the sign. Right, screw that, no feeble attempt at keeping hours was going to stop destiny. Parking along a nearby street Merlin jumped the fence and ran down the path.

Ten minutes later Merlin’s heart nearly stopped. There in the mud coming out of the lake were boot prints. They only went one way, leading out of the murky waters. Turning around Merlin began screaming Arthur’s name. It had been almost two full days since his dream. Did that mean Arthur had been out here alone since then?

--

Sleep didn’t come for Arthur as he lay curled around his small fire. There was one more place he could check, the trek wouldn’t be easy but perhaps going at night would be better. Deciding this was the best course of action; Arthur snuffed out his fire and stood. He’d already figured out his bearings from the sun earlier.

With a sigh he began walking in the direction of Camelot. If he couldn’t find answers there then Arthur was at a loss of what to do next. Merlin was missing as were all his other knights and friends. This place he’d been cast away to was different and scary.

Clearing the very odd perimeter fence of the lake wasn’t easy. The little holes in the surface made for easy climbing but the whole structure ebbed and flowed with his movement. Its height meant the jump down on the other side hurt his limbs. Taking a breath to steady his nerves Arthur set off in the general direction of his home.

Surprisingly a path soon appeared and it stayed somewhat true to the course. Perhaps this had been a good plan after all. Stumbling along the moonlit trail Arthur slowly made his way towards his fate. Worry drove him forward, what if there was nothing there? What if he never found anyone he knew?

Hours passed in this terrible mental state. Arthur would get distracted when his path had to cross more flat surfaces with those bright markings. Careful to avoid getting hit by what seemed to be large magical boxes with even brighter lights than the ones from the lake, Arthur carried on. Fatigue was taking hold as the moon dipped in the sky. Without a proper meal for nearly two days Arthur could feel his body dragging.

Stubborn to the last, Arthur kept pushing along, one foot in front of the other. He’d get there if it killed him. No turning back. Then something appeared something familiar. A landmark he recognized. Rushing up to a stone marker in the path he fell to his knees and almost started crying. The stone marker was a boundary notice. Too overcome with relief to notice its aged state Arthur pushed himself up and kept going, he was nearly there.

Hope spurred his tired body onward and towards Camelot. Finally, the path fell away and opened up to a large clearing. This should have brought Arthur joy, but a sudden dread filled his gut. The spires of Camelot were missing, replaced by a largely open field with a crumbling ruin in its midst.

No! He was too late, Camelot had fallen! Unthinking Arthur kept moving towards the hulk of stones duly illuminated in the fading moon light. Reaching what used to be the east gate Arthur could only stand and stare, the walls were mostly gone and the inside was overgrown with grass. Attempting to go inside he realized the entrance was bared with a gate. What was there to protect?! This place was destroyed!

Another eerie light was set nearby and Arthur went to it so he could see better, so he could see the destruction of his home. Tears were pricking at his eyes, this couldn’t be real. Walking up to the walls he ran his hands over the surface and wept. After an a moment Arthur noticed something off, all the stone was weathered far beyond its age. Was this some trick of magic? What could do this? Looking around Arthur foolishly let his hope rise up again. Maybe it was magic; maybe everyone was fine and escaped whatever attack caused this damage. Looking around for more clues Arthur was drawn to an irregular piece of wood sticking out the ground. Coming around he realized the light was aiming at this piece of wood.

Taking in the design he noted it had a metal cap on top with words emblazoned on the surface. The language was still foreign to him but some words stood out. His own name was there along with the word Camelot, both followed by a set of numbers that closely matched the current year. Continuing to read the metal writings, one other bit of information made Arthur’s world crumble.

Another year was imprinted at the bottom of the metal, one that read 1975. Shaking and suddenly feeling week, Arthur sunk to the ground. Dear goddess, had more than a thousand years passed? No wonder everything looked so worn and weathered, it was old.

He was the only one left; he’d been brought back as some cruel joke. Left to suffer alone, all that he knew and loved was gone and dead.

--

Merlin didn’t care that he had lit the park up like a roman candle, he needed to find Arthur. Magical glowing blue orbs were everywhere in the forest. Hours passed as he scoured the grounds looking for signs. Either by chance or magic, Merlin was sure it was the latter, he stumbled upon a freshly extinguished fire. The logs were arranged in a painfully familiar way. Memories of camping with Arthur were still fuzzy and Merlin tried in vain to bring them back.

The fire had clearly been smoldering for hours, Arthur had to be close. Looking around for another hour produced nothing. A small tug of his magic kept making Merlin look a certain direction. It wasn’t until the fifth occurrence of this did he realize what it meant. Arthur would try and head towards Camelot. He knew the lake was within a few hours walking distance.

Snuffing out all the orb lights except one Merlin raced back to his car. He had to find Arthur before anything bad happened.

The road was blessedly clear of traffic as Merlin sped along the motorway. Forty five minutes later he screeched to a halt in front of a rather imposing metal gate. Nope, not today. Using his magic he cast the lock aside and sprinted in towards the ruins of the once great citadel.

The first rays of dawn were starting to appear as Merlin ran in a frantic bid to find his king and friend. Rounding one of the massive crumbled walls Merlin skidded to a halt. The shadow of man was hunched over in the grass. The glint of chainmail gave Merlin all the confirmation he needed as he stuttered to life again.

“Arthur!” Merlin cried out.

The man flinched and looked up, his face tear stained and puffy. A broken sob was his answer as Arthur struggled to stand and failed.

Falling to his knees Merlin wasted no time in gathering Arthur in his arms and holding him tightly. “Arthur say something, are you – are you alright?”

Arthur’s arms were around his waist in a heartbeat. “I – I thought I was – alone!” he sobbed. “What happened?”

“Time passed, you died,” Merlin offered simply. Having already come to terms with the loss of his king a thousand times over, this moment only left Merlin feeling numb.

“How –how are you here?” Arthur managed.

“Turns out I’m immortal, though I’m not sure anymore now that you’re back.”  

“Merlin, I don’t feel well,” Arthur mumbled a moment later.

“Let me take you home, to my home, let me take care of you.”

Arthur’s tears had subsided enough for him to speak clearly, “I don’t think I can walk very far. Did you bring a horse?”

“Sort of, its kinda the same, it doesn’t matter, “ Merlin admitted. “Come on let’s go, I’ll help you. I don’t want to be here when the park guard opens up for the day. I sorta broke the lock to get in.” Merlin ignored Arthurs confused face and hauled him upright. Slinging an arm over his shoulder they made their way to the car.

Arthur visibly shied away when they approached. “Is it safe? I’ve seen a few of these things and they seem dangerous.”

“No more dangerous than a horse, I’ll show you.”

“Is it magic?”

“No it’s a machine, like the mechanical crossbows we used in a way; this is a much more advanced machine is all.”

Arthur was clearly lacking the energy to question him further and allowed Merlin to ease him into the front passenger seat. Merlin tried to drive carefully as he navigated them back to his cottage. When the small driveway of the estate came into view sixty minutes later Merlin sighed in relief.

Arthur had passed out ten minutes into the ride, his exhaustion and the fact that the Merlin had reclined the seat helped in that matter. Pulling up to the front door Merlin shut the car off and got out. The power to the place was turned off but he could make due. Water he could get from the well and the pump in the house.

Waking Arthur up wasn’t easy and Merlin could feel his skin getting hot. Stress and being out in the elements had done this. Merlin swore he’d not leave Arthur’s side until he was better. Once they were inside Merlin waved his hand and a plethora of orbs filled the space casting a soft glow around. Going to the bathroom first Merlin sat Arthur on the toilet and began divesting him of his armor and clothes.

Once Arthur was sitting only in his smallclothes did Merlin turn his attention towards the bath, using magic once more he ran the water pump in the kitchen and magicked the water into the bath. Arthur’s eyes widened a fraction as he watched the liquid flow through the small space.

“Sorry for using magic so openly right now but I need to get this done and the power and water are shut off at the moment.”

“What?” Arthur rasped.

Realizing he’d gone over too much, Merlin switched tracts. “May I use my magic right now, do you mind?” The king shook his head and kept watching the display. Once the bath was full he cast a spell to heat the water and put his attention back to Arthur. “Ready for a bath? Water’s nice and hot.”

Nodding dumbly Arthur let Merlin help him up and into the bath. With a hushed spell Merlin removed the last of Arthur’s clothes. The man didn’t make a comment and allowed Merlin to lower him into the steamy water.

“May I clean you?” Merlin asked softly. This whole moment was so surreal. Time had all but erased his beloved king from his memory but now everything was flooding back. Merlin wanted to never leave Arthur’s side again.

“This is real, right?” Arthur asked slowly.

“I think so, don’t think about it too hard. Let me take care of you for now.”

Merlin relearned all the little details he’d forgotten cleaning Arthur. The freckles and beauty marks scattered along his upper torso were mapped once more. The exact shade of his hair was cataloged again along with the very tired blue eyes locked on his own.

“What year is it?” Arthur asked after a while.

“It’s twenty, twenty-one.”

“Oh, the metal plate back at Came—Camelot said nineteen seventy-five.”

“Ahh, yeah that’s most likely when somebody paid to make the marker, or that metal plate thing. Sort of like a history record, on this day and time we did this thing. Make sense?”

“I suppose forty more years don’t really make a difference in the long run do they?” Arthur replied miserably.

“I’ll always be with you, Arthur so long as I’m able I’ll be there to tackle the world with you.”

“What took you so long this time?” Arthur asked with a hint of a smile. “I nearly went mad.”

“Okay, so world travel is a lot easier now and I was literally half away across the planet. It took me a little bit to get here.”

“Merlin, I almost lost my mind and I was only in this crazy place for two days, how have you managed all these years?”

“I’m already crazy so I guess I blend in better?”

Arthur laughed for the first time since he’d found him and relaxed further into the bath. “I’m almost afraid to ask but what is the food like?”

“Ah it’s not bad, I need to feed you actually, lemme go make something.” Merlin went to stand up but Arthur’s iron grip on his wrist stopped him.

“You’re not allowed to leave me alone just yet; can’t you float it in here like the water?”

“Shit, I can try; I don’t really remember what’s in the kitchen.” Pushing his magic out Merlin felt around in the cabinets and found something that was hopefully a canned good. After several failed attempts and something breaking in the hallway he had procured enough things to make a meal. Granted it was the strangest thing he’d ever done, cooking in the bathroom, but Arthur wouldn’t let go of his hand.

--

After the shock had subsided Arthur was able to relax in his surroundings. Grief still weighed him down heavily at the loss of all his family and friends. Merlin was always there to guide him through it. The months passed and Arthur began to feel like he understood his place in the world better. Merlin had been telling him all the work he’d done over the centuries and how Arthur could help him in the future.

The world was delicate and needed people like them to help keep it in balance. The only thing that changed for Arthur was his insistence that he not be apart from Merlin. They were always together and that’s the way he liked it. Merlin didn’t seem to mind his clinginess despite his gripes on the subject. So what if they fell asleep together on the large fluffy thing called a couch all the time. It made Arthur feel at ease and Merlin was always happier afterward.  How could that be a bad thing?

There was still so much to learn and come to terms with but Arthur knew he could do it with Merlin by his side.

[onesparrow]

An essay on why Mama Mia is about a bunch of sirens and takes place in the same universe as Kingsman

Buckle your seatbelts kids, and let me tell why all the leading ladies in Mama Mia are sirens and how this applies to Kingsman. (and James Bond, sometimes)

So it’s the 80’s and Kingsman is keeping tabs on MI6, as they do, when they see that they’ve sent 007 to Greece of all places. Merlin assumes that this is because of the very bizarre reports they’ve been getting about possible mind control drugs, and when 007 is reported being seen with Donna (Meryl Streep), he sends Harry out under the guise of Harry Bright.

Off he goes, discovers that there are, in fact, no drugs, and comes back. All is fine and dandy, no one is any the wiser of the siren thing, and nothing happens for twenty years or so. But then Harry gets an invite to a wedding, Merlin catches wind that 007 is also going, and yeah that’s a little suspicious, so Harry gets sent back off to Greece.

“Remember that Harry Bright is not spontaneous and a dork,” Merlin reminds Harry as he ships him off. 

Queue Mama Mia, the movie, and Harry getting dragged into a bunch of song and dance routines while Merlin makes sure to record every second for posterity. Merlin eventually figures out that it’s not mind control drugs, it just so happens that Donna and Co are sirens and are much more powerful in numbers than they are on their own. Both Donna and Sophie are a good deal stronger than Donna’s friends, but that’s neither here nor there. They also have zero interest in using their powers for any purpose except for seducing the occasional person and throwing really wild parties. So he tells Harry to ride it out, which is why Harry pays for part of the wedding (with Kingsman money), and also claims to be 1/3 of Sophie’s dad even though there is no way that she’s his because Kingsman has all their agents on birth control. Even though there is nothing worth seeing (from a Kingsman perspective), Merlin has Harry stay for the rest of the wedding, James Bond gets married, and Harry has a brief fling with that Greek dude because why the hell not.

Merlin does a bit more research on sirens, and discovers the following;

Sirens are pack/school/pod whatever creatures and their powers are amplified in a group setting. The more of them there are, the more convincing they are, and can pretty much get entire crowds to join in. Since humans are also group based creatures, once there's a large enough group doing an activity, others are likely to jump in even if they aren't as easily effected. (like in flash mobs! there's always randos joining in)

Their powers are centred in suggestion, and since song is a really great way to get people to remember things, singing always works best for sirens. Plus makes it easier for other sirens to be in sync, vs just shouting things at random.

While sirens did use to bash ships onto rocks and lead men to their deaths, they only did so to protect their own territory. But now there’s laws against that, and also things like wifi. Sirens like youtube videos of baby animals just as much as the rest of us.

Sirens can’t really use their powers on each other; it’s just very tempting for other sirens to join in when they’re singing. There’s a certain pull there, but it’s easily resisted.

The siren gene is passed down on the mother's side, but not all sirens are female; there are male sirens, but they're a lot rarer just since there is a guarantee that female offspring will be sirens, but there's only a 50/50 shot that the male one will be. Female offspring are also more common, occurring 75% of the time.

And now let’s get back to Kingsman under the cut. 

Because you know who is a siren? Michelle Unwin, that’s who. I have evidence for this, but we’ll get to that later so bear with me. Like I said before, sirens are highly social, group based creatures; so when Michelle fell in love with Lee, it was VERY difficult for her to leave her family. But she loved him, there were tearful goodbyes and promises to visit the little coastal town she was from, but it wasn't on any main rail lines and they were busy with baby Eggsy and then Lee had to go off and join Kingsman and die. So while Michelle used to sing to Eggsy when he was a baby, she gets too depressed after Lee’s death and is trying to keep the two of them afloat, so she stops singing entirely.

Once Dean comes around, Michelle hasn't sung in years, because any songs of grief she would have sung for Lee would have been group based, as all siren songs are, and she hasn't been around any other sirens in years. She's too buried in her grief to consider going back to her family, and has lost contact anyhow, and then she meets Dean and she’s stuck there.

She's not 100% certain that Eggsy is a siren, but she forbids him from ever singing along with anything. Probably under the guise of 'Dean will hate it' or something, maybe even going as far as to telling him that Dean had complained about the quality of his voice (which is MASSIVELY taboo in siren culture, to tell another siren that their singing voice isn't up to par; that's just not a thing. It's not something you can ever say with any breadth of kindness) Eggsy is a good kid though, so he doesn't sing, even when he gets the urge.

He doesn’t sing at all until Daisy is born, and even then he’ll only sing when it's just the two of them, and only when she's upset. But even then it's super quietly, and only bits and pieces of a song. Daisy will always calm down when he sings, will just stare up at him and wave her tiny fists around happily or just go to sleep. Since Daisy is female, she’s for sure a siren (it's why Michelle was so terrified, when she called Eggsy in hysterics and demanded he come home from the army; she couldn't protect a baby from Dean by herself if she started to show her abilities). Singing and talking happens around the same time for baby sirens, and in the same way you can't forbid a baby from screaming or crying, you can’t forbid them to start singing if they get the urge. Since Eggsy sings to her, sometimes, she still has that social aspect that keeps the siren powers ‘awake’, even if it's weak. So her cries don't bring everyone running, but it does keep Dean and his men from trying to do anything unfortunate to keep her quiet. Sometimes they'll start to push past it, but once they get close enough to her crib she'll shriek loud enough that the 'back off' message is just strong enough to get them to leave her alone. Even baby sirens aren't helpless.

Side note; sirens have larger lung capacities which they use for singing, and are great swimmers because their preferred habitats are islands and they’d swim out to crash ships to protect them. Which is why Eggsy can hold his breath so long in that water test in comparison to the others.

Here’s how this ties back in properly to Kingsman; Valentine’s tech were based off of siren song. Originally, they were trying to reproduce it to the point so they could, like sirens, suggest a specific idea. That proved to be too complex though, so they settled for just suggesting a certain emotion, and then amp that frequency the hell up. So when the devices go off, Michelle has been suppressing her siren abilities for a solid seventeen years or so, so she gets drawn into it though. Daisy though? Daisy has been using it on and off, and she’s nearly a toddler when V-Day happens. Toddlers are entirely capable of the feeling of anger, and at the very least she should be throwing a temper tantrum, but instead she just sits in the bathroom and gets upset while her mother goes berserk and tries to murder her. Latent siren powers, huzzah!

Anywho, the rest of the Kingsman film goes as scripted, Eggsy becomes Gwaine, Harry comes back from the dead, neither Roxy nor Merlin die, Eggsy does not move out of Harry’s house, time passes, Harry and Eggsy get together, etc etc. I should mention that I have not seen Mama Mia 2 yet so we’re just going to ignore everything that happens there, but Harry gets an invite to Greece. Merlin insists that not only does he need more data points on siren abilities, especially post V-Day, Harry needs a vacation, and MI6 is there so he has to go. Harry points out that James Bond lives there with Donna, and therefore it doesn’t count as MI6 having a presence. Harry argues until Merlin mentions he’ll be sending Eggsy with him as backup, and suddenly Harry is thrilled to see his 1/3 daughter.

Both Eggsy and Harry work on some resistance training against siren song best they can, which is pretty easy because Harry has been actively been working on it since V-Day. Meanwhile Eggsy is a. stubborn as all hell b. has spent nearly his whole life resisting the urge to sing, which is half of the deal. They get to Greece, and Sophie IMMEDIATELY takes a shine to Eggsy, and is absolutely thrilled that Harry found someone to be happy with. Eggsy thinks Sophie is great, and that dorky Harry Bright is adorable. After the first few days though Eggsy is fairly stressed because he’s surrounded by several very powerful sirens and keeps resisting their siren songs, AND Harry keeps getting viciously hit on by everyone. I mean they're hitting on Eggsy too, but he doesn't notice because he's too busy being territorial; there is a very tan Greek man who keeps making doe eyes at Harry because they shacked up last time. (fun fact, greek dude from Mama Mia is also a siren, Merlin is cackling in the background)

The power keeps building as the third day goes around, and that night is when the party REALLY starts. Sirens feed off of group emotions, which is why they’re always so quick to cheer each other up, since otherwise you can end up bumming out everyone in the vicinity. It’s also one of the reasons that Valentine’s tech worked so well; the more people got involved, the more powerful it got. Anyways, by that point Eggsy’s jealousy has built and he’s fairly worn down by the constant barrage of “let’s throw a rager and flirt with everything that moves” mood the sirens have been throwing off the entire day. So when the karaoke thing starts, and Sophie goads him into doing a song, Eggsy is like “Yeah fuck it who cares if my voice is shit I am getting my ass up there here goes”.

Meanwhile Harry is also concerned because he’s been living with Eggsy for a year now and has never heard him sing, not even at Daisy’s birthday party where everyone sang and he just mumbled along. So he’s viciously texting Merlin about how he thinks that Eggsy has been effected and is going to make a fool of himself or something against his will, and please delete the recording as soon as it’s over, and then never bring it up. In the meantime Eggsy has vaulted up onto the stage, still stubborn and scowling, but once he gets up there he realises that he’s on a makeshift stage and has never sung anything before in his life. But he commits, because Sophie is giving him a thumbs up, and he’s not going to climb back off the stage now, is he?

Sophie puts on ‘Lay All Your Love On Me’ and while Eggsy is a little shy for the opening line or two, by the time the chorus starts he’s completely into it. By the second chorus the rest of the sirens have joined in, and Eggsy has jumped off the stage so that he can confidently put himself in Harry’s lap and is generally radiating such a strong ‘back the FUCK off’ vibe that he’s cleared a good sized circle around them. Donna is thrilled and is shouting things like “YOU TELL EM BOY” and Sophie is cackling because she’s placed bets on whether or not Eggsy had siren blood in him and will be collecting good money that night.

Harry is entirely shocked at first, and Merlin is 50% thrilled because this will be so useful and 50% pissed off because how did they not know about this earlier?!

The rest of the trip goes very well, aside from some shenanigans about whether or not James Bond is James Bond (Harry and Eggsy both swear that they’ve met James Bond, but Eggsy insists that that’s not him, because James Bond is blonde and blue eyed and together with MI6’s version of Merlin, and that’s how they figure out that James Bond is as much of a title as Galahad is), Sophie and Eggsy bond and she gives him a bunch of super secret siren tips that Merlin really wishes he hadn’t overheard. There’s singing, there’s dancing, etc etc.

Once Merlin gets over the things he heard and Eggsy and Harry get back to HQ, he already has a bunch of tests for Eggsy lined up. Which is how Eggsy and Roxy get locked in a sound proof room while Merlin hangs out on the other side of a sheet of soundproof glass with a mic and a cup of tea while Eggsy tries to get Roxy to join in on a duet of a Spice Girls song. That then inspires Merlin, and Eggsy finds himself staring down Roxy saying "tell me what you want, what you really really want" in various intonations to see if they could possibly use Eggsy's abilities as a truth serum. ((The answer is no, in part because Roxy can’t stop laughing))

They discover that Eggsy's powers mostly extend to people who are either susceptible to a good mental push (like drunk people, or those of particularly weak constitutions) or people who are letting themselves be pushed (like Harry, if they're alone and he's feeling like indulging Eggsy's brattiness). But as Merlin puts it "Unless we have an influx of targets hanging out in karaoke bars or greek islands, I don't know that it'll come up often”.

Oh and when they need more recruits Eggsy nominates Sophie. She’s been taught to fight by James Bond in the past few years so she has a leg up there, but she passes with flying colours and joins Kingsman.

Anyways thanks for coming to my TED talk on why Harry Bright is just Harry Hart’s cover and Eggsy and the ladies from Mama Mia are all sirens.

[winglesscrows]

I’m Yours Ch. 3

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Merlin (BBC) I T I Merlin & Arthur I 61k

Merlin had secrets, and Arthur knew nothing of them, until, slowly, he did.

In which Arthur slowly unravels the mystery that is Merlin, and begins to realize just how much he doesn’t know.

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It wouldn’t be fair to start interrogating Merlin in the state that he was in, but the scar was right there, and Arthur couldn’t think of a time where he would have gotten it. In battle, the biggest injuries Merlin had suffered where some nicks and small cuts on his arms, and occasionally a blow to the head, but not a cut as long and deep as one that would leave a scar like that.  

“You’re looking at me like you’ve never seen a wound before,” Merlin joked weakly. They would need to give him some time to rest before moving on.

“No,” Arthur said, not really able to bring his mind up to speed with the events happening, “I just… where did you get that?” He gestured vaguely to the scar.

Merlin raised an eyebrow. He would probably have laughed if it wasn’t for the pain, “Seriously, Arthur? You were right there.”

At first Arthur was confused. If he had been there, he wouldn’t be asking, but it occurred to him that that wasn’t what Merlin was talking about.

“Not the wound, Merlin, the scar,” he clarified, slightly frustrated.

Merlin looked slightly taken aback, and then looked down to examine himself, as if looking for what Arthur was referring to, and then looked like he was contemplating what to say.

“It doesn’t matter,” Merlin finally settled on. It was possible that the loss of blood wasn’t helping him think straight either, because if he thought Arthur would let this go, he was very wrong.

“Of course it matters. First you don’t tell me that you’ve been abused by the very people I call trusted knights, allowing yourself to get a burn that you will never properly heal from and now I find that you have a scar that looks like it could have killed you, but I have no idea when you got. How does that not matter? You said that you were mine, and I take care of my possessions.”

“Actually I do that,” Merlin said and rolled his eyes. Arthur would honestly have slapped him if he wasn’t bleeding and in pain.  

“Merlin-”

“Arthur,” Lancelot interrupted, seemingly done with taking care of Merlin’s wound, “I don’t think you two are up for this conversation right now. Perhaps you should let Merlin rest and then come back to it some other time. Maybe when we are not surrounded by dead bodies?”

Arthur wanted to protest. He wanted answers now, but Merlin did look like he needed rest and since he apparently wasn’t dying, there was no rush. No, what was important now was to find a place to stay for the night, so that Merlin could rest and the knights could regroup before continuing their journey.  

They decided to not set up camp right in the middle of their slaughter, and so they sent Elyan and Leon out to look for potential spots they could set up camp. They came back not an hour later, having found a small cave not even a ten minute ride from their current location and they moved. They were careful with Merlin who was half-asleep throughout the entire ride, and it took them almost an hour to get to the cave in order to accommodate him.  

Percival and Lancelot took care of the food, and soon the knights were sitting around their fire (provided by Arthur) and talking about none other than Merlin.

“You should teach him how to use a sword,” Elyan suggested, “Would come in handy since he always joins you on missions.”

“You think I haven’t tried?” Arthur shook his head, “You should have seen him the first time he held a sword. He could probably have done more damage with a stick. At least with a stick there was no way for him to cut himself by accident.”

“I don’t think it’s his fighting abilities that are the problem,” Gwaine remarked, “Whenever he sees that the princess is in danger, it’s like all logic escapes him.”

The knights nodded in agreement. Merlin could be quite smart in combat and had survived far more dangerous situations than what they had faced today, but he always got hurt when Arthur was in a position where he could possibly have gotten killed or suffered a lasting disability. Merlin was loyal and more ready to die for Arthur than the prince was comfortable with. Which reminded him of the scar.

“Does anyone know how Merlin got his scar?” Arthur decided to ask. It was possible that Lancelot or Gwaine knew something that Arthur didn’t. Or maybe even Leon, as he had known Merlin since he came to Camelot, and was often present during battles where Arthur had lost consciousness.  

“Oh, the one on his shoulder?” Percival asked, and Arthur looked at him with wild eyes.

“There is one on his shoulder?”

“What were you talking about?”

“The one on his abdomen,” Arthur explained, his voice a little louder than it should have been.

“I thought you were talking about the burn,” Elyan said quietly, and Arthur shook his head again.

“I know all that I need to know about his wrist.”

“No, I meant the one on his chest.”

“Okay, my brain is officially exploding,” Gwaine exclaimed, “How many scars does he have?”

Arthur’s brain also felt like it was exploding. This did not make any sense. Merlin should not have any scars, at least on his upper body. When peace had first been made between Camelot and Mercia, when Merlin had drunk poison for him all those years back, he had had no scars. Arthur knew that for a fact because he had forced Merlin to put on the hideous servant’s uniform right in his chambers to make sure that Merlin would wear it. And while Arthur had taken note of Merlin’s thin body and distinct lack of muscle, he knew that there hadn’t been a single scar on his body then. Which meant that every single one of them were from his time in Camelot.  

Arthur tried to think, he really did, but nothing came to mind. What on earth had happened to his servant and who had been responsible? A voice inside his head told him that he had been the responsible one. That if Merlin could hide a burned wrist, what was stopping from hiding other scars and marks of abuse or injury? If Merlin was so ready to die for him, what was stopping him from having already taken a blade, an arrow or a spear for Arthur, without his knowledge and never told him about it?

Arthur put his head in his hands and let out a groan of frustration. He knew Merlin. He knew he did. His personality was so straight forward, but knowing a person and knowing about a person, Arthur was starting to realize that those were two different things.  

“It kind of makes sense though, doesn’t it,” Gwaine mused and Arthur looked up at him, because, no, it did not make sense, but the knight continued, “Merlin always takes care of all the invisible threats.”

“What do you mean?” Percival asked, being the only who didn’t know Merlin before his knighting.

“When I first came to Camelot, Arthur was almost killed by two bandits in disguise. Merlin figured out very quickly that they were up to no good, but no one really believed him. Even though I ended up saving the princess, I’m sure Merlin must have done things like that before. He’s just that kind of guy,” Gwaine gave Arthur a look, almost like he knew more, but didn’t say. Arthur was about to demand that he continue, until he recalled when he had met Gwaine for the second time. Gwaine had sworn to never speak of it again, so Arthur would have to ask him when the other knights were resting. It was easy to volunteer himself and Gwaine for first watch.

“Spill,” Arthur demanded, as the two of them were standing watch just outside the cave, “What do you know?”

“Do you know why Merlin followed you into the perilous lands?”

“Because he doesn’t know how to leave me alone?” Arthur responded, recalling how many times Merlin had offered to go with him just in case something happened.

“Because he knew Morgana had given you an enchanted bracelet that was slowly killing you,” Gwaine explained and suddenly the whole quest made sense for Arthur. He had felt incredibly weak during the whole ordeal, and when Merlin had found him, he was no longer wearing Morgana’s bracelet and dizziness had faded immediately. In his surprised state at finding both Merlin and Gwaine there, he hadn't had time to think about it further, and had merely accepted the situation as it was, focusing on finishing the quest.

“But that suggests that Merlin knew about Morgana before everyone else. Why wouldn’t he tell anyone?”

“Maybe she threatened him?” Gwaine suggested, clearly not knowing much more than Arthur, “Maybe he knew that no one would believe him.”

“So instead he just tried to stop her himself,” Arthur concluded, putting the pieces together, “That probably explains a couple of things… and all of the scars. It’s probably Morgana then.”

“Probably,” Gwaine said, but that was the end of it. Arthur was surprised that Gwaine stopped talking completely, but he too would have been tired after everything that had happened. He was probably worried about Merlin too.  

But as Arthur was sitting in the dark, thinking about everything he had learned, he thought that he was beginning to understand why Merlin had never said a word. How many times had Arthur not told Merlin how much Morgana meant to him? And after she had fallen down the stairs. Arthur had cried for her, and what could Merlin do? Tell Arthur that he shouldn’t be sad, because she was evil and trying to kill them all? Arthur would never have believed it. As much as he trusted Merlin, he had known Morgana for longer. Grown up with her, loved her as a sister. And if Arthur didn’t listen to Merlin, then who would? No, it had been safer for Merlin to keep it a secret and act by himself.      And for that he had gotten hurt. Perhaps it was time for Arthur to not just have faith in Merlin, but to let him know that he had his full trust. After all, how could Merlin know that Arthur was a safe person to come to if he had never said it? Merlin always told him that Arthur could confide him when he needed to, but had Arthur ever done the same for him?

After a couple of hours, Lancelot and Percival took over the watch, and Arthur was surprised at how easy he fell asleep with so many things whirling around in his mind.

It was surprising, to say the least, that Merlin was the one who woke him up, and that it was Merlin who had made them breakfast. Arthur was about to ask him how he was, but Merlin was faster.

“I told you I wasn’t dying,” he smiled cheekily, as if having read Arthur’s thoughts. Sometimes he really thought that Merlin could do that.  

“Your gut was bleeding less than twenty-four hours ago,” Arthur pointed out sleepily (he really wasn’t a morning person, even when on missions).

“That was yesterday,” Merlin said brightly, “But today is a new day.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow, and lightly poked Merlin in the side. His servant flinched in pain and Arthur rolled his eyes: “Wounds like that don’t disappear overnight. Don’t pretend to be better than you are.”

Merlin shrugged, and Arthur sighed. He would have to keep an eye on him. If he didn’t, there was all the chances in the would that Merlin would simply ignore the wound and not realize the damage that he had done until it had reopened and he fainted because of blood loss.  

Arthur looked to the mouth of the cave. Elyan and Leon were still standing watch as the three other knights were resting. Merlin likely woke Arthur up to give him a chance to actually wake up, before the others came to. But that also meant that the two of them could have a private conversation. Arthur doubted that the other knights had told Merlin about their conversation last night, therefore Merlin only knew that Arthur knew about the huge scar on his abdomen. That would be what Arthur would ask about for now. Just to see how much Merlin was willing to talk.

“Where did you get that scar?” Arthur asked again like he had done yesterday. Merlin stopped dead in his tracks and looked at Arthur, clearly not wanting to have this conversation, but damnit, Arthur was the prince and he demanded to know. Merlin no longer had the excuse that he had blood coming out of him.

“It was a long time ago, don’t worry about it,” Merlin deflected once more, but Arthur was not letting this go.

“I said where, not when.”

“The Darkling Woods.”

“And who gave it to you?”

“I answered your question, Arthur, it’s really not important.”

“Merlin!” Arthur hissed trying to keep his voice down. He saw Elyan give him a look before he turned back to watching out for bandits and other threats, “Just this month you have let someone beat you, kick you and burn you and told no one. You used yourself as human shield to protect me and didn’t even demand as much as a ‘thank you’. And now you’re saying that a scar that looks like it came from a deadly wound isn’t important? Listen to yourself. You would never let me get away with it.”

“Of course not,” Merlin said, “You’re the prince, but I’m just a servant so it doesn’t matter. Besides, I’m alive, aren’t I?”

“You may not be so lucky next time,” Arthur said, hating how it was a given that Merlin would endanger himself to protect Arthur again. Hating how little Merlin thought of his own life or how much he thought of Arthur’s. And what had he even done to deserve such loyalty and devotion, when he clearly didn’t even have his trust?  

They didn’t continue their conversation after that and merely prepared for the last leg of their journey to Mercia. It went peacefully and silently by.

They spent three days in Mercia. Arthur spent most of his time with Bayard, while his knights took some time to rest. Merlin was treated by the royal physician – at Arthur's request – and the two of them saw little of each other, Merlin being mostly in the company of the knights whenever they got bored. However, on the last evening, Merlin – who had recovered remarkably well - drew Arthur a bath while they discussed their journey home. It felt awfully familiar as Merlin washed his back and tried to convince Arthur to change the route.  

“We should avoid bandit infested areas this time,” Merlin suggested light-heatedly, knowing that Arthur had been thinking the same thing.

“So you propose that we take the route you originally came up with,” Arthur replied, trying to put Merlin in a good mood. They had hardly talked since the morning in the cave, and it felt wrong to not have Merlin constantly chat about something, or trying to lighten Arthur’s mood in a weird roundabout way.

“No,” Merlin merely replied, “I think we should make a new one entirely.”

“And why is that?” Arthur asked, curious about Merlin’s thought process. He had been so against everything Agravaine had suggested that perhaps, now that his uncle wasn’t here, Merlin was more willing to speak.

“I have been thinking-”

“Hopefully not too hard.” Arthur received a splash of water and soap in his face for that.

“I have been thinking about what Agravaine said,” Merlin began, and that made Arthur slightly suspicious, “I don’t have the knowledge about the borders of Camelot that he does, so he probably had a good point when he said to avoid a lot of population.”

Arthur wanted to accuse Merlin of lying, because surely, this was a lie, but he let him finish. Even if - when - Merlin lied, he always had Arthur’s best interest at heart. This time around, that interest was probably keeping them alive.

“But I still think that we should avoid areas that are too secluded and easy for ambushes. If we extended our travels by two days, we could travel through open space and still be within a relative distance from any of the villages if we ever need assistance. We could even pass Lord Owen’s fort along the way.”

“I’ll think about it,” Arthur said and he could almost feel Merlin’s smile behind him. Arthur wasn’t smiling though. He was thinking. Thinking about what Merlin had said. The route that Merlin had originally came up with would be just as safe as the one he had just suggested, the only difference was how long they would be traveling. Logically, they should have stuck to Merlin’s first suggestion and take the risk of word getting around about the travels. No, Merlin’s real objective wasn’t to avoid what had happened on the way to Mercia. It was to take a route unknown to anyone in Camelot. A route unknown to Agravaine.  

Arthur shook the thought out of his head. It didn’t make sense. If that was what Merlin was thinking, then that would mean he suspected Agravaine of selling information to someone outside of Camelot. Instead of Agravaine and Merlin playing tug-of-war with Arthur’s trust, wouldn’t it be better for Merlin to speak up about his suspicions? Arthur knew that Agravaine always spoke his mind, even if he knew Arthur didn’t like what he had to say. He had warned him several times to not take the advice of a servant (regardless of that servant being Merlin or Gwen), but Arthur always told him that it could never hurt to listen. If Agravaine and Merlin really had two different agendas, it wouldn’t make sense for Agravaine to be the only one to speak up. Unless Merlin was the traitor.

But no, that made even less sense. Merlin had nearly died for Arthur so many times. Perhaps it was just a matter of Merlin not like Agravaine. Or maybe it wasn’t Agravaine who was the problem. Maybe it was someone his uncle regularly talked to and Merlin was afraid that he would let something slip. His uncle was rather talkative, especially after a few drinks. Or, Arthur reminded himself, perhaps he was merely thinking too much into it. Morgana’s betrayal wasn’t behind them just yet - and maybe it never would be - and perhaps Arthur was seeing traitors were none were.  

The only thing Arthur knew for certain was that Merlin wasn’t telling the full truth about so many things that Arthur could only wonder how many secrets he kept.

[lover-of-midnight]

Is there a way out - chapter 27

Rating:

Explicit

Archive Warnings

Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Rape/Non-Con

Major Character Death

Categories:

F/M

M/M

Fandom:

Merlin (TV)

Relationships:

Arthur/Original Male Character

Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)

Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)

Leon & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)

Leon & Morgana (Merlin)

Leon/Morgana (Merlin)

Side Morgana/Leon

Characters:

Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)

Merlin (Merlin)

Leon (Merlin)

Morgana (Merlin)

Gaius (Merlin)

Balinor

Additional Tags:

Alternate Universe - Dark

Dark fic

Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

Rape/Non-con Elements

Rape Recovery

domestic abuse

Suicide Attempt

Depression

Arranged Marriage

soul mates

Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics

Non-Consensual Touching

Omega Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)

Alpha Merlin (Merlin)

Alpha Uther

Beta Morgana

Beta Leon

Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics

forced bondage

Prince Merlin (Merlin)

Queen Hunith

King Balinor

Suicide

Kidnapped

toture

Smut in chapter 34

Wedding

Language:English

Arthur jumped slightly when there was a knock on the door. He was surprised to see that Gwain was already when he opened the door.

Gwain was dressed in casual clothes. “Hello, Princess.” There was a lightly teasing tone to his voice. Arthur couldn’t help but raised an unimpressed eyebrow. He had a feeling that Gwain was a big jokester.

“Hallo Gwain.” Arthur’s voice was still on the quiet side. As if he was scared to raise trouble.

“So I am in charge of showing you around today. First thing first, did you eat today?” Gwain was certain that he could see Arthur’s ribs through the clothing. It hanged loos on him, even though it was clear that it was made for him.

“Yes.” Arthur was uncertain why he would care about his eating. Gwain just gave him a small smile. He knows how it was. It is hard to pick up weight after going long times with eating.

“Well, I didn’t have breakfast yet. So kitchen first, I am sure the cook would have some of her famous honey bread. Did you have honey bread before?” Gwain prattled on.

Arthur felt slightly overwhelmed. “No.” He looked at the floor. He wasn’t sure how he should react.

“Well then, there is no time to waist.” Gwain gently took Arthur’s hand, pulling him to the door. Arthur easily followed. His mind spun slightly. But he followed Gwain.

Gwain talked about everything and something on the way to the kitchen. “I love cooking. When I first got here, it was one of the classes I had signed up for. That was something else. Working out every though through chopping up some food.” Gwain’s voice softened slightly.

Arthur gave him a curious look but he didn’t ask what Gwain means. When they got to the kitchen, a busty woman was talking to another. Their faces were so friendly and open that Arthur couldn’t help but feel comfortable immediately.

“Gwain.” The one-woman pulled him into a hug. “We were wondering when you would be coming down.”

The kitchen was warm, Arthur could see at least two ovens begin used and he was sure that soon the pot will also be used.

“My dear lady, do you by any chance have some of your famous honey bread. My friend here never had honey bread.” Gwain pulled Arthur closer so that he could introduce them.

With the attention of both cooks on him, Arthur couldn’t help but blush.

“And who is this?” The woman was friendly as she reaches out to Arthur, but Arthur just backs away a bit.

“This is the princess omega.” Gwain kept a firm look on Arthur, he had a feeling he would need to tell Merlin, how he was in the presence of other people.

The two women almost jumped up and down. “That’s wonderful. What is your name darling?” The older woman asked. Her eyes were a dark green, something that Arthur had rarely seen. For a moment, he just wanted to run.

He wished that it was rather Merlin with him than Gwain, but he also had a sneaky suspicion that Merlin wanted him to make friends. But why Gwain?

“Arthur Ma’am.” Arthur kept his eyes on the floor. He could feel his heart trying to climb out of his chest.

“What a beautiful name. Welcome in Mercia. I am Rose and this is my younger sister Lilly.” Rose voice was like a rough melody, it almost reminded Arthur of the waves crashing against rocks, but it wasn’t that completely.

“Well you boys are in luck, I just took out a fresh batch of honey bread. Come, come.” Rose hands were moving around, as she showed them to chairs near a roaring fire.

Arthur was a little bit unsure as he sat down. This felt wrong. Why are they so friendly?

If he came near the kitchen in Camelot, Audrey had shooed him out. The only time he was allowed in there was when he had lessons with her.

He looked at Gwain, his eyes telling him exactly the fact that he was unsure.

“Are you alright Arthur?” Gwain’s voice had lost the joy and playfulness. He could see that there is more than likely going to be a serious talk going to happen.

“Yeah.” Arthur’s eyes had shifted up before he looked at the floor again. He was sunk into himself.

Gwain was silent for a few moments. “You know you won’t get in trouble?” His voice had softened slightly.

Arthur didn’t answer him, the whole time, he is just waiting for the other shoe to drop. To do something wrong. He bit his lip slightly, this was just plain embarrassing. There was nothing to cry about.

“Arthur, Mercia is one of the few safe places for omegas. It doesn’t matter from what Kingdom you come from. They only ask for loyalty in return. But you would be safe here. You would be able to live your life in peace.” Gwain didn’t raise his voice.

He had is own path. When the knights had found him many moons ago, he was almost dead. Running away was not his brightest idea, but it was the only way.

Arthur still didn’t answer him. “Why don’t we ask these lovely ladies if we can take some bread, and go back to your chambers. We can continue the tour this afternoon or tomorrow if you want.” Gwain kept his voice relaxed.

Arthur could only nod. He couldn’t but help and hate himself for this. Gwain was begin nice to him, and all he can do is make his life difficult.

When they got back to his chambers, he opened the door allowing Gwain to enter. “I’m sorry.” Gwain almost fell over.

“Why?” His voice had a harsh note to it. He almost hit himself when he saw Arthur flinch. He took a deep breath. There is no reason to make Arthur have a panic attack.

“Arthur, you do not apologize for feeling. I know this is scary, then waiting for them to change. And believe me, that is something that will never truly go away. But you will heal, the wounds will become less painful and other days it would choke you.

“But you never apologize for how you feel.” Gwain fell silent. He didn’t mean to go off on a rant, but something would need to get through to Arthur.

Otherwise, this would only go downhill.

“How do you know that?” Arthur was scared to ask the question, he hoped that he didn’t intrude in a private matter.

Gwain was silent for a long time, he broke the loaf in two. Handing one part to Arthur.

“My family was nobility. Father was always abusive. No matter what I did, he would find fault with it and lay into me. Mother, well she just turned a blind eye. It didn’t bother her, that her son was getting beaten for not getting dressed fast enough.” Gwain fell silent for a moment.

“You don’t have to continue, I am sorry for intruding.” Arthur quickly filled the silence. The last thing he wants to do is intrude in someones else private life.

“No, you would do go to hear the story. When I turned thirteen, father had decided that it is time to sell me off to the highest bidder. I didn’t like it, so the night before the auction would happen, I threw my linen rope through the window.

“Using it I made an escape route, but I was still too far up, to safely land, I jumped the rest, injuring my ankle. The only thing that went through my head, except for fuck, was that I needed to getaway. As far as possible.

“So I hobbled run into the woods. I had no idea how to survive in the forest since it was determined since a youngling, that I would be an omega. So why would I need to know how to track or hunt?

“I was in the woods, no idea where I was going, and living from berries I found when knights of Mercia found me. If they hadn’t found me, I would have been dead.

“And in the beginning, I was like you. Scared that this is all a trick, that as soon as I made a mistake they would take me back to rot in the woods. But they didn’t. The matrons at the safe house I was staying, made sure that if something happened that I was comfortable. Taken care off.

“I met Merlin later on when he was volunteering at the house. He will take care of you Arthur, a blind man can see that he is already in love with you. And I know that it is hard. But you need to talk to him.

“If something is bothering you, tell him. That is the only way you would be able to move on from the issue, if you can’t tell him about it, write about it. But you need to communicate with him.” Gwain gave Arthur a firm look at the last part.

He was slightly surprised at how easy it was to share the story with Arthur.

“Thank you.” Arthur’s voice was soft, but it was clear that he was grateful to hear Gwain’s story.

Gwain showed with a gesture that Arthur should just eat his bread. When he has a chance he is going to talk to Merlin.

Arthur would need a lot of love.

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

The God of Magic just wants humanity to be happy and thriving;

Version 1, Good!Merlin

INTRO

(Version 2, Dark!Merlin)

~

“You’re late.”

From their place in the bushes, the gang can see a wide grin break out on the woman’s face as she raises an eyebrow:

“You’re always getting distracted by pretty flowers or interesting conversations, how was I supposed to know that you’d be on time for once?”

Her voice somehow sounds like an ocean in a storm, ear-splittingly loud as the sound cuts right through them to the core, but also a gentle stream, soft and clear and soul-cleansing. The gang struggle not to flinch in their confusion.

Merlin chuckles slightly, shaking his head as he softly replies:

“Ah, I see, you were expecting me to be late, so you told me to turn up half a candle-mark before you intended to get here.”

She raises an eyebrow and nods:

“In the hopes I wouldn’t have to stand around and wait too long,-”

She shudders slightly as her face falls, though she manages to look beautifully intimidating even with a slight scowl on her face:

“-you know how much I hate it up here, on dry land.”

Merlin nods. He looks around him passingly, and the gang tense as his eyes rove over their hiding place; their fear is quickly replaced with shock (and even more confusion) as it strikes them that they’ve never seen Merlin look so relaxed, so at ease. He finally looks back to the woman:

“Hmm. I may not agree with you on that, but I understand. I could have met you at Avalon, you know.”

The woman frowns even more, and the gang can see Merlin tilt his head in question, even more so when she replies:

“I... wanted this conversation to be private, away from the prying eyes and ears of Mother and our Siblings.”

Merlin’s shoulders tense, and Arthur can vaguely see the outline of his hands clenching tightly in his pockets as his cloak billows in a sudden wind. The knights, Gwen, and Morgana all look to each other in confusion, Merlin had never spoken of siblings before, in fact, they’re fairly certain he specifically told them that he’s an only child. This woman was so drastically different from Merlin in appearance, they couldn’t possibly be related by blood. Perhaps she means "siblings" in a similar sense to how the knights are brothers?

A tense silence passes between the two, but it’s quickly broken by Merlin letting out a deep, bone-weary sigh, his relaxed demeanour completely dissolved, and looking to the floor, mumbling:

“What’s this about, Ava?”

The woman, Ava, the gang now know, lets out a sigh of her own, tilting her head and waiting for Merlin to look at her again before speaking, her voice sounding more consistently soft the more she spoke, as if she needed practice to regulate her volume:

“I think you know, Em.-”

(”Em?? I guess that could be a shortened version of ‘Merlin’, but... not really.”)

“-Time is running out, existence is threadbare as it is, and only getting worse with each passing day. The world is splitting, cracking down the middle; magic is running thin-”

Everyone feels Arthur tense at the mention of magic, even more so at Merlin’s non-reaction to the word. Though everyone is already understandably on edge by the way the woman speaks as if the world is ending around them, and they hadn’t even noticed:

“-and we are starving. The fates of The Bane-”

Mordred manages to stop himself falling backwards, but his sudden shaky breath earns him a concerned glance from Gwaine, crouched besides him:

“-and The Darkness have been avoided, if you do not move forward now, then when? With every day you stall, you plan, you stand idly by and wait, we choke on the gaping emptiness of a world that is leaking.-”

Merlin holds up a shaking hand to stop her, his other running through his hair in frustration as he murmurs:

“I know, I know-”

The gang watches with tense, morbid curiosity as Ava cuts him off, her expression both annoyed and sympathetic:

“I don’t think you do, Em. You haven’t been home in years. Could you stand it? To be God of Magic with no Magic to be God over? No universe to hold dominion over?”

Merlin scoffs slightly and walks to the side in his frustration, and the gang can see the melancholy annoyance on his face, plain as day. It’s almost enough to make them forget that he visited Ealdor just last month. It’s definitely not enough to distract them from the fact that she had called Merlin a God. The God of Magic, of all things. What the fuck??:

“I don’t hold dominion over anything I just... am.”

Ava rolls her eyes:

“That’s not the point and you know it. Mother sent you to fix the problem, to stop the purge, to encourage the Once and Future King to bring magic back and start the Golden Age. He has been King for years, but you still act as a servant. You are a God, Em, assert yourself. You could fix the world with a click of your fingers, but you wait for the humans to do it for you.-”

Merlin interrupts her slightly impassioned speech with a deep huff and a shake of the head. From where he now stands, the gang have a healthy view of his side profile, and they can see the emotions warring on his face: frustration, grief, desperation:

“That isn’t... that’s not what I’m doing-”

She rolls her eyes again and the gang are vaguely aware of a distant crack of thunder as she gestures sharply with her hands:

“That is what you’re doing. You’ve become too attached to these... mortals.-”

She steps towards him, cradling his cheek in a soft, elegant hand as her face morphs to one of complete and utter sorrow:

“-You’re setting yourself up for heartbreak, Brother. Human lifespans, the lifespan of your precious Golden King, are but a blink of an eye compared to ours; they will all wither and die and fade from you, and you will be left with your grief forever.-”

Her other hand lifts to settle comfortingly on his shoulder, and the gang can see a single tear slip from Merlin’s lowered eyes:

“-Do what you came here to do, and come home, to Avalon, we miss you, Em, the family needs you back.”

Merlin stills for a few moments at her desperate plea, but then steps back, shrugging her hands off gently and wiping the tear from his face:

“No. I... I’m doing this properly. Mother understands my fondness for humanity, that’s why she sent me, and I’m going to do it properly.”

Ava huffs out a gentle laugh at his determined expression, shaking her head slightly in fond disbelief:

“How can you love them? These... humans, when they slaughter your creations, when they don’t even know what you are?”

Merlin smiles softly, his eyes gazing into the trees as he quietly responds, his voice full of enough adoration to take the gang's breath away, to temper the twinge of fear and betrayal that had been swelling in Arthur’s lungs:

"I love them because they don't know what I am. It's nice, to be human; to walk among them, being loved and hated and respected and touched as if I were not more than they could ever possibly comprehend. Humanity is... made of juxtapositions. Their existence is contradiction upon contradiction, weaved together and held with emotions so large I can scarcely understand how they're contained in such little bodies. I've been alive and watching them for millennia, lived side-by-side with them for almost three decades, and they still surprise me. To walk among them, to see them come to terms with this universe that We made for them, to see how desperately they crave knowledge, exploration, experience... it's beautiful. The way they love so fully, the way they find meaning and importance in every grain of sand, every ray of sun, every tuft of fur on every creature, it's humbling. It's astounding."

Ava has a soft smile on her face, looking as if she could listen to her Brother ramble about his love for humanity for decades. She shakes her head slightly, letting out a gentle sigh as she asks:

"Then why won't you save them? The Gods will starve without magic, but humanity will starve without the Gods."

Merlin pauses for a moment, his face scrunched in concentration as he tries to think of the right way to verbalize his thoughts. 

The gang stare on in unconcealed bafflement; the realisation that Merlin is some kind of God brings less fear or anger than they think it should. Maybe it’s the shock, or maybe it’s the reverent way he speaks about them. Either way, they stay still and silent in their hiding place, and eventually Merlin’s face settles back into a soft smile as he looks to his Sister:

"I wish to see them save themselves, not because We need them to, but because they want to. Because their desperation to explore this universe will one day outweigh their misguided hatred of magic.-"

He nods decisively, repeating in a confident voice:

"-I wish to see them save themselves."

Ava sighs once more, stepping toward Merlin and putting her hand back on his shoulder:

“Your wishes may soon become... irrelevant. We’re dying, Emrys,-”

Arthur struggles to hold in a gasp at that. Emrys. He knows that name. Apparently it’s the name of a God, and not just some secret sorcerer who took a fancy to Camelot and deemed himself it’s protector. Lancelot’s eyes widen, though he manages to hide his shock well; no one else is focused on anyone else’s reactions, all internally freaking out. 

Mordred is pale and breathing shallowly, being the only one in the group who had already known the full truth. Percival looks to be in shock, he grew up with the stories of Emrys, but to learn that Emrys was a God? That Merlin was said God? Not what he was expecting out of this little trip. Gwaine, Gwen, Morgana, and Elyan look worried, seeming to have pushed aside their shock in favour of being concerned over Merlin’s safety and sorrow. Leon stares upon the scene with scholarly-looking curiosity, hiding his apprehension and shock well. Arthur’s expression is... unreadable. Ironically, the only person capable of knowing what he was thinking just from looking at him was currently having an incredibly terrifying conversation with someone who is also presumably some kind of God(dess). 

“-time is running out. I know that you don’t want to, but... it might be best to tell them the truth. You adore your humans because of their ability to love, do you not think they love you enough to forgive you your deceptions?”

Merlin clenches his jaw, and it’s the anguish on his face, paired with his almost-whispered words, that breaks their hearts:

“I... no. Just because I love them does not mean they love me back. I’m just a servant, Ava, I’ll never be important enough to be forgiven, God or not; I’ve lied to them for over ten years.”

She sighs, letting a tear of her own fall as she quietly responds:

“Emrys, you undervalue your worth, they don’t-”

“No. I don’t. You’re right, I have one life-time with them, with... with Arthur, and then I’ll lose them, and I’ll spend the rest of eternity grieving. I refuse to taint the already short time I have with them by having to watch them grow to hate me. I refuse.”

Merlin frowns as Ava rolls her eyes fondly, a victorious smirk on her face:

“If you would let me finish. They don’t hate you now, despite learning what they have just learnt, and you have yet to tell them of all you’ve done for them. Their love for you will only grow, Brother.”

Merlin tilts his head and raises an eyebrow. The gang take in a collective gasp at the realisation that she knows. And has likely known the whole time.

“What are you talking about?”

Ava’s smirk just grows, and she looks to the bushes the gang is hiding in, seeming to make direct eye-contact with a panicking Arthur as she speaks, he voice echoing unnaturally through the clearing:

“You can come out now.”

At her words, Merlin’s head whips around to stare at where she was looking. He opens his mind, allows his magic to stretch around him, and his skull is immediately full to burst with echoes of Mordred’s earlier, and ongoing, warnings, as well as the overwhelming presence of The (former) Darkness, The Once and Future King, and the others. He takes a stumbled step back, hand covering his mouth and tears spilling from his eyes as he becomes more and more convinced of... well... his time being tainted.

The gang stand and shuffle out of the bushes slowly, eyes trained on the floor and hands clasped in front of them tightly. It’s Merlin’s quiet, cracking “No...” that has them look up, paling at the absolute heartbreak on his face.

Lancelot and Gwaine give him weak, though genuine smiles, holding their hands out placatingly, but they halt their movements forward when Merlin just copies them pace for pace, moving away from them.

No one notices Ava rolling her eyes, not until she steps behind Merlin and puts a halting hand on his shoulder, stopping him from moving further away.

Merlin whips his head around, and another loud clap of thunder sounds out, much closer than the other one, quickly followed by a sudden downpour of frigid rain. The gang look to the sky in confusion, and Mordred desperately tries to reach Merlin through the mental link, offering comfort and reassurance; Merlin doesn’t seem to notice, the rain falling harder and harder as he almost fall to his knees, speaking in a desperate voice to his sister:

“Why... why would you... you know what this means. Why... why would you do this?! Ava?”

She rolls her eyes again, seeming to glow effervescently under the rivers of rainwater running down her face and over her clothes. She forces Merlin to turn and look at the gang, holding her hands on his shoulders to stop him from backing away (or collapsing in his grief) :

“Look at them, Em. Do they look angry to you? You should have some faith in the humans you claim to love so much. Look at them.”

Everyone in the gang gives Merlin varying levels of strained smiles; though Merlin, in his panic, is unable to tell that the strain is from concern and guilt, thinking that it was instead from hatred. He falls to his knees, his eyes shut tight enough to give him a headache and his hands clamped over his mouth in an effort to hold the sobs in.

Gwen and Morgana are the first to rush forwards, not paying the slightest bit of attention to Merlin’s... sister or the knights as they collapse to the floor in front of their friend, not sure whether to keep their distance or try to comfort the distraught man... God.

It’s his next choked sob that urges them to move once again, and the girls pull Merlin into a hug, tears of their own gathering at his agony. He freezes at first, then tries to pull away as lightening streaks across the sky, the violent bursts in sync with his choked breaths. When Gwen strokes a soft hand through his knotted hair, and Morgana pulls him further into her lap, muttering “We’re not leaving you, Merls, not ever, we love you.”, he relaxes slightly.

The thunder and lightening cease, but the rain still pours as Arthur stares over the pile of crying bodies to the woman, whose eyes seem to be growing brighter and brighter in the deluge. She stares right back at him, and The King jumps slightly when her voice echoes through her head, despite her still face:

“My brother has lost enough, please do not shatter his heart.”

Arthur nods once, before following Lancelot’s lead to the others, the rest of the knights not far behind them as Ava disappears. Whether she walked away without noticing or simply faded into the rain, no one knows, but no one really cares either. Soon enough, everyone is gathered around Merlin, stroking his back softly and whispering comforting promises over the sound of the rain. When Leon is the only one to notice Mordred’s eyes flash golden as he summons a shield above them, he simply shrugs his shoulders and refocuses his attention on muttering reassurances in Merlin’s head.

His breathing slows after a while, as does the rain, though everyone panics slightly when they see Morgana frown as she strokes the hair away from his face, revealing flushed cheeks and closed eyes. Mordred’s eyes flash golden once more as he presses a hand to his forehead, though no one lets the shock distract them for too long, latching on to his relieved tone:

“He’s just asleep, that would’ve taken a lot out of him. We should get him back to Gaius.”

The knights all stand, stretching and cracking joints to try and rid themselves of the cold stiffness that had settled in their soaked bones. Morgana stays on the floor, clutching at Merlin in her lap desperately, like he could slip away at any moment. When Arthur leans down to pick him up, she shoots him a glare, her own eyes glowing as the wind picks up once more, whipping through the clearing in an obvious warning. Arthur takes in a gasp, but shakes the surprise from his mind as he settles a soft hand on his sister’s shoulder:

“I... look, we’ll talk about this later, and I promise you’re going to be safe,-”

He glances up to an equally defensive looking Mordred:

“-all three of you, but Mordred’s right, we need to get him home and warmed up.”

Morgana hesitates for only a second, but the concern (and love) in her brother’s eyes sway her, and she nods, ever-so-carefully pulling her arms from around Merlin and helping Arthur get the younger (or... much much older) man situated in his arms before standing up.

~

The trek back to the castle is a fairly short one now they don’t have to worry about being quiet, and the rain has almost completely stopped by the time they make it to the citadel gates. It’s late, so the only people they come across are the occasional guard. But The King resolutely ignoring them as he carries his unconscious manservant through the corridors, his closest friends and advisors around him either openly crying or blinking away tears... well... it’s something that very much screams “DO NOT DISTURB US DO NOT SPEAK OF THIS IMMEDIATELY FORGET EVERYTHING YOU HAVE JUST SEEN”.

Elyan runs ahead to wake Gaius and warn him, so by the time everyone gets to the Physician’s chambers the fire is roaring, a patient pallet has been moved in front of the hearth, and Gaius himself is bustling around, preparing various concoctions and tinctures and blankets.

Merlin’s still shivering form is laid on the pallet, and Morgana shamelessly uses her magic to pull the heat closer and dry out his clothes. Mordred sits protectively close to the servant, one hand subconsciously close to his sword, the other resting on Merlin’s shoulder. Gwen settles between him an Morgana, and the knights figure that with her complete non-reaction to the magic... she probably already knew, she was smart like that. Gaius finally makes his way to Merlin’s side, tipping a gross smelling potion down his throat and running a hand through his hair, frowning worriedly down at his ward. 

Not a single word had been said since they entered through the castle gates, and Arthur is the first to break the silence, sitting on Merlin’s other side, opposite Morgana, and settling an almost accusing expression on his sister:

“You knew, didn’t you?”

She looks up at him, somehow appearing powerful and intimidating despite being soaked through and shivering:

“I knew he was... powerful, I didn’t know he was a God.”

Gaius’ head whips around quickly, and Arthur is surprised at the questioning horror on his face:

“A God?? There must be some mistake, Merlin is powerful yes but he’s not-”

Mordred’s quiet voice interrupts him, though he doesn’t look away from the unconscious man as his fingers twitch over so slightly closer to the hilt of his sword:

“I knew. Though if I’d known he felt so... if I’d known how he felt, I would have spoken to him about it sooner, I apologise.”

Everyone looks at the group’s youngest member in shock, almost speechless, but Gwaine stutters slightly before clearing his throat and trying again:

“So... that was real, Merlin is a fucking God.”

Mordred nods absent-mindedly, eyes flashing golden as he presses his hand to Merlin’s forehead once again, frowning. Arthur’s brow creases in concern and he leans closer to Merlin:

“What is it? Is he ok??”

Before Mordred can reply, Leon speaks up, his voice tired, but strong:

“If he’s some... powerful God, then why is he hurt in the first place? Shouldn’t he be able to resist any sort of injury or sickness??”

Mordred shakes his head, finally looking away from Merlin to gaze at the group surrounding him. He looks doubtful at first, but when he sees the genuine concern on everyone’s faces, especially from Gaius and Arthur, he sighs and speaks softly:

“It’s difficult to describe. Merlin could access the full range of his power and do anything, if he wanted, but it’s draining and complicated when stuck in a human body. He himself is a God, yes, but this form is still vulnerable and mortal; he can get injured, and sick, he can die, or at least the body can. Merlin tends to repair this body when that happens, instead of moving on. He... likes it here.”

Everyone nods, understanding at least a little, though Gaius and Lancelot look the most shell-shocked. The room goes silent once again, and Percival, sat on the floor against the end of Merlin’s pallet with Elyan and Gwaine, is the first to speak, his voice shaking and sorrowful:

“He really thinks so low of himself. He’s a God... and he was terrified of the thought of us hating him, as if such a thing were even possible.”

Gwaine curses under his breath and Leon restarts his slow pacing around the room before he stops suddenly, turning to face the others with a look of anger on his face:

“Well of course he thinks it’s bloody possible. He’s right, we treat him like a fucking servant even though he’s one of our dearest friends, and half of us talk about the evils of sorcery on a near constant basis. He’s the God of Magic, of course he’d think we would hate him.”

Everyone is taken aback at Leon’s rage, though no one can deny that what he’s said is true. Leon is... quietly protective of everyone in the group, and it’s a time like this that reminds all of them that he had known Merlin just as long as Arthur had, and definitely held a certain brotherly affection for the younger (uh... yeah, whatever) man.

The older knight sags slightly, seemingly realising how exhausted he is, and pulls a chair up next to Arthur before collapsing in it, head in his hands. Arthur pats him on the back a few times before looking back to Merlin’s now thankfully not-shivering form, taking in a deep breath and nodding his head decisively:

“Well, we’ll just have to show him that it isn’t possible. I... we need to show him that he’s... important to us. Loved.”

Morgana just raises her eyebrow at The King, but doesn’t say anything as Gaius mutters a tearful “My poor boy.” under his breath. Elyan stands from his place on the floor, moving to perch on a bench behind his sister and setting a comforting hand on her shoulder as he softly speaks:

“He needs to know that we want him to stay here, with us.”

Percival shakes his head slightly, looking conflicted:

“Wouldn’t that be... cruel? That woman... Ava, was right. We’ll all grow old and die and he’s a God, he’ll live forever and he’ll grieve. Isn’t asking him to stay selfish?”

No one has an answer, and the room grows silent, everyone stewing in their own tense thoughts, trying to weigh the pros and cons, trying to measure exactly how selfish they were willing to be when it came to Merlin.

~

The sun rising over the horizon and peaking through the uncovered windows is what wakes everyone (bar Merlin) from their fitful sleeps. All of them had been plagued with odd dreams and nightmares through the night, so despite their exhaustion, they were grateful to be awake.

No one said anything though, waking one by one and pacing briefly around the room in an attempt to cure themselves of the aches gained from falling asleep in such awkward positions.

It’s still incredibly early in the morning, so thankfully none of them are needed for at least two more candle marks, but it’s Lancelot who breaks the silence first, clearing his throat and looking down at his best friend:

“It wouldn’t be selfish.”

Arthur looks up to him, noting the bags under everyone’s eyes and the tear tracks no one had bothered to wipe away:

“What are you talking about?”

The knight runs a hand through his hair, sniffling slightly and taking a deep breath before he stares around the room, making sure everyone was awake and paying attention as he spoke:

“For us to tell him we want him to stay, it wouldn’t be selfish. You heard him, he loves it here, he’s desperate to stay, he loves us. He still has at least thirty years worth of memories to make with us, and yeah, maybe that’s not a lot in the grand scheme of the immortal life of a God, but it’s more than the ten he’s already got. We can’t take that away from him. He... he wants to be here. Telling him to leave just to alleviate our own guilt... that would be selfish.”

Everyone looks a little doubtful, bar Mordred, and it’s him that Arthur turns to:

“Mordred? You knew... what he is, which we are still definitely going to have a conversation about by the way, what do you think?”

Mordred sighs, biting his lip for a moment before finally ripping his gaze from Merlin’s still unconscious, but now healthier looking body:

“He is more than any of us will ever be able to comprehend. You still see him as just Merlin, he is, but he’s also much more; he is Emrys, the saviour, the God, the Guiding Light. He is magic itself, woven into the fabric of the universe. He inhabits every space, and no space at the same time, he exists in every grain of sand, every drop of ocean, every speck of sky. To... to assume that he is not capable of deciding what he wants is an act of unforgivable hubris. If he stays, who are you to demand he leave and name yourselves selfish, when he has not deemed it so?”

Arthur pales slightly at Mordred’s words, as does everyone else. Gwaine seems to be taking it in his stride, and Lancelot seems less surprised than Arthur thinks he should (definitely something to question, but not right now), but before anyone can say anything, Merlin twitches, a low groan escaping his throat as his brows crease.

Everyone moves quickly, gathering around his bedside in a huddle. Morgana, Mordred, and Gwen are grateful to still be sat in their seats, and if they weren’t so busy worriedly leaning over Merlin they would be rolling their eyes at the way the others were pushing and shoving to be at the front. Gaius elbows his way to be stood by Merlin’s head, a cold compress in one hand and a grey looking potion in the other.

Morgana strokes a hand through Merlin’s hair and the frown on his face eases; he blinks his eyes open, swallowing before grimacing at the taste in his mouth and groaning again. Gwen leans over his head, smiling as she settles a hand on his warm cheek:

“Morning sleepyhead. How are you feeling?”

Merlin just groans again, rubbing his shaking hands harshly into his eyes as he says, his voice dry and painful-sounding:

“Ugh. Like Arthur’s aim got miraculously better.”

Arthur rolls his eyes and flushes slightly, but before he can defend himself Merlin bolts upright, taking in a deep, ragged breath, eyes wide. Mordred focuses a concentrated expression on the side of Merlin’s head, but Arthur ignores it as he reaches forward, settling a hand on the dark-haired man’s shoulder and muttering his name:

“Merlin?”

Merlin’s breathing only gets deeper as he whips his head around to stare at Arthur. The blonde tries to smile comfortingly at him, but Merlin barely seems to notice as he scrambles back on the bed, only stopping when he comes into contact with Leon behind him.

Mordred’s face morphs into a concerned frown at Merlin’s terror, and now his tears, so instead of waiting for the man to calm down enough to let them explain, he rushes forward, grabbing the back of Merlin’s head and forcing their foreheads together before he can pull away. He shuts his eyes tightly, muttering some sort of incantation under his breath. Merlin gasps loudly and Mordred groans, holding their heads together for a few moments before collapsing back into his seat, clamping his hands over his eyes as if trying to press a headache away. Merlin slumps back against the warm body behind him, and Leon just about manages to catch him in strong arms before he falls to the floor.

This had all happened in the space of a few moments, and when the two of them still, the others unfreeze. Arthur turns on Mordred:

“What did you do?? What was that?!”

Mordred groans again, looking up blearily, first at Merlin, who seems to be in a similar state to him, leant against Leon, and then to Arthur:

“He wasn’t calming down, so I shared my memories. From when we met at the edge of the forest yesterday, to just before he woke up. It’ll take him a little longer than me to sort through them.”

Arthur nods and Morgana looks impressed, and everyone looks to Merlin again, waiting for him to pull the hands from his eyes and talk to them, look at them, anything.

He finally seems to relax his muscles and Leon rubs his hands up and down his arms softly; despite the fact that he’d been warmed by the fire, the knight was still oddly worried about Merlin being too cold. He lets out a deep breath, lowering his shaking hands as he slowly raises his teary gaze, staring at Arthur:

“You... you want me to stay?”

Arthur ignores the tears dripping down his cheeks as nods desperately, forcing a soft smile on his face as he sniffles:

“Yes. Please. We don’t want you to go, we don’t hate you.”

Merlin launches himself at Arthur and the only thing stopping The King from falling back from Merlin’s surprising weight is Percival’s hand on his back. Arthur wraps his arms tightly around Merlin’s middles, turning his head to press a kiss to the other man’s temple as he tries to get his tears under control; he completely ignores the others in favour of muttering into Merlin’s hair:

“It’s alright, Merlin. You stay here, with us, as long as you want. We... I, love you. Stay, please.”

Merlin just sobs harder, gripping the back of Arthur’s tunic as he kneels on the bed, his response stuttering and barely understandable:

“But- but I’m-”

Arthur just hushes him, stroking a hand through his hair and giving everyone else in the room pointed looks. They all crowd around Merlin again, placing comforting hands on his back and shoulders and arms and hands. Mordred whispers his adoration in Merlin’s head, and Morgana presses a kiss to the nape of his neck, all in the hopes of convincing him that the memories he had were true.

His breathing finally calms, and Arthur shuffles to the side so he can sit down next to him, not daring to remove the arms from around his neck or push him away. Merlin pulls away himself when Arthur settles, but doesn’t move far, and there’s no space between them as he hastily wipes the tears from his face, staring at him lap, cheeks flushed. Arthur takes his hand slowly in his, but Merlin still doesn’t look up, so Morgana kneels in front of him, placing her hand on his knee softly and saying with a teasing smirk on her face:

“You know, if I’d known that my teacher was The God of Magic, I might’ve complained less at the studying you make me do.”

Merlin finally looks up at her, a weak smile on his face, and Morgana winks at him. It’s Gwaine who tries next, settling on Merlin’s other side and sighing loudly:

“Forget the God thing do you know how many pranks we could’ve pulled if you’d told me you had magic?? Can’t believe you’d take that opportunity from me, all of you.”

He gives Mordred and Morgana jokingly offended glares and they roll their eyes, though their attention is quickly drawn back to Merlin, whose hands are clenching tightly in his lap. The room goes dark all of a sudden, and a glance to the window would tell them that the clear morning was suddenly overcast, thunder rumbling in the distance as rain slammed against the glass. Arthur squeezes Merlin’s hand and quickly, though gently, shoves Morgana out of the way, kneeling in front of Merlin and lifting his chin with his free hand:

“It’s fine, Merlin. We’ve all got a ton of questions but everything’s going to be alright, I swear. In fact, I’m glad we found out, it was cruel of us to make you live in a kingdom where you aren’t accepted, but that changes now, I promise.”

Merlin stands suddenly and walks between them, taking a deep breath before turning suddenly a scowl on his face:

“It wasn’t her choice to make, it was mine, and she took it from me.-”

With every harsh the thunder grew closer and the glass in the window frame shook more violently:

“-I was going to tell you after you changed your mind about magic because it had to come from the heart. You can’t change the Kingdom just for my sake! I wanted to do it properly and she took that from me because she was bored!”

Everyone rushes to say something in an effort to calm him down, both for the safety of the windows and his happiness, but Arthur’s blunt-

“Why?”

-stops them in their tracks. Merlin looks to him sharply, though Arthur is grateful for the thunder quietening down as he replies:

“What do you mean why? Why what?”

Arthur huffs out a gentle laugh, shaking his head in disbelief:

“Why can’t I change the Kingdom for you? You’re important, you’ve touched so many lives in so many wonderous ways; that in itself tells me that magic isn’t evil, so why can’t I change the Kingdom for you?”

The thunder stops and the rain slows to a gentle patter as Merlin tilts his head, his scowl of anger morphing into a sad, confused frown as he responds in a small voice:

“But... I’m just a servant. You’re not doing it out of fear, so I’m still just... nobody important.”

Arthur just laughs again, walking towards Merlin and settling soft hands on his shoulders, grateful to feel the others close to his back:

“You have never once been just a servant, Merlin. Something tells me you’ve been saving my life, and this Kingdom, since the day we met, so even if it had no effect on anyone else whatsoever, I would still change the law. Because you are a good man, and you are important, and you deserve it. Compared to you, it is us, who are just human.-”

Merlin frowns again and Arthur rolls his eyes to stop him arguing:

“-Just... give me another hug, and accept it. You idiot.”

He can feel someone (probably Morgana) thump him on the back, but he doesn’t turn around, eagerly returning Merlin’s hug when the brunette wraps his arms around Arthur’s middle tightly. The King presses closer, uncaring of what his audience thinks of him for the first time in his life (probably because he has a feeling that they’ve known of his... affections, longer than even he has) and  mutters his question into Merlin’s ear:

“We... I love you, Merlin, more than anything. Will you stay with me?”

The King is vaguely aware of his First Knight whispering “I told you so, idiot.” behind him, but all he cares about is the sensation of the God, more ancient and powerful than anything he could ever comprehend, nodding into is neck.

THE END!!

I really enjoyed writing this, and I hope y’all like it!!

Link to the Dark!Merlin version (I warn you, it’s hella angsty) is at the top!! :)

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

The Gang FINALLY sees how much of a BAMF Merlin is:

 A smidge of Angst, but only because everyone is stupid :)

Part 4 of Merlin’s angry outburst. The Gang has ridden out (refusing to let Merlin and Arthur go alone) to a battlefield that will only have two bodies on display. One of them is Merlin’s.

This was meant to be the last bit but it was getting so long and I kept thinking of extra shit to put in soooooooo. Hopefully this is the penultimate part? But who knows lol.

TW: Lots of death (the final battle yo)

Part 1   Part 2   Part 3   Part 5

They ride the whole first day in silence. Not even Gwaine has any jokes or stupid stories to tell, and the atmosphere is tense.

The time between Morgana rushing into the council meeting, and the group riding towards what looked to be Merlin's death, had blurred by. No one really had any time to think, but now, riding in silence, all they could focus on was the fact that they were knowingly heading to what could be Merlin’s demise.

No one concentrates on anything but urging their horses to travel as fast as possible, and Arthur shortly telling everyone to stop and make camp were the first words spoken for the whole journey.

No one replies, they just dismount their horses, and wordlessly go about clearing an area for the fire, laying out food, and checking the surrounding area for danger.

Merlin stalks off before anyone can stop him, intent on setting up some wards before anyone settles down. He’s clearly pissed, and Arthur shakes his head when Lancelot gives him a look, “Want me to go with him?” .

Arthur follows instead, trusting the others to set up properly whilst he and Merlin have a much needed private conversation.

It doesn't take too long to find him. He's noticed that, recently. Ever since the link was forged he always seems to be able to find Merlin first try. Before, he had to scour the whole castle to have a chance of finding his wayward manservant (and then his wayward Court Sorcerer), and even then sometimes he couldn't manage it.

It's comforting. In a way. Knowing that they'll always be able to find one another.

Arthur sees him in the trees ahead, facing away from him, his hands up in front of his body. He can hear him muttering something that Arthur doesn’t understand under his breath.

Years ago, Arthur would think that Merlin hadn't noticed him. But Arthur knows him better now. He knows the ever so slight hitch in his Sorcerer’s left shoulder means "I hear you. I see you. I know you're there." .

"You can't know that everything's going to be ok."

Merlin sighs and turns back to look at him, still visibly frustrated with everyone’s obvious fretting. Neither make any moves to walk closer:

"Course I can. I had a chat with Kilgharrah on the way here-"

(He taps his forehead as he says this)

"-no other Emrys-killing weapons have been made, and the only one anywhere near us, is yours. As long as you don’t stab me, I'll be fine."

Arthur huffs and shuffles his feet at this:

"Merlin, the vision. You weren't waking up and you heard what Morgana said. Why are you so intent to ride to what is almost certainly going to be your death, when our armies could win this battle anyway?"

Arthur is trying to sound firm, but his face gives him away. He was never all that good at hiding his true emotions when it was just him and Merlin, and his expression is sad and desperate.

It's only at that, that Merlin walks towards Arthur, putting his hands on his shoulders:

"That vision doesn't show everything. And yes, that may have been the clearest vision Morgana has had during this whole bloody war thing, but the future is still fluid. Nothing is set in stone. Arthur, I'll be fine. And besides, an all out battle means blood spilt, theirs and ours. If I can do anything to prevent that, then there is no choice, not for me."

The King clenches his jaw, before pulling Merlin into a tight hug. The Sorcerer let's out a surprised "oof" but grips back just as tightly, burying a hand in Arthur's hair.

Arthur speaks aloud this time, so quietly Merlin barely hears it even with Arthur's face in his neck. Perhaps thinking this is important enough that it has to be vocalised:

"Why have you got to be so bloody self sacrificial? I couldn't bear to lose you, Merlin. I need you with me, by my side."

Merlin smiles slightly at that, but doesn't let go:

"I'll always be with you. Nothing in this life or the next, could pull me away from you. I...-"

He hesitates here, but Arthur tightens his grip, and he takes a deep breath before continuing:

"-...this is where I belong. Right here, right now. With you."

Arthur squeezes him once again and pulls back, gently laying his forehead against Merlin's, very reminiscent of the spell cast all those weeks ago.

The both of them keep their eyes closed, even as Arthur speaks:

"We're having a conversation about... this, when we get back. We're ALSO having a conversation about your self sacrificial tendencies."

Merlin laughs and pulls back at that:

“Only if we have a conversation about yours first.”

The King rolls his eyes fondly, and turns to walk back, but pauses momentarily, without looking back:

“I may not understand your magical mutterings, but I know that you’ve finished setting the wards up. Are you going to come back? Or are you going to come up with another excuse for you to watch me leave so you can stare at my arse?”

Merlin flushes at that, and lets out a mumbled “Shut up.” before speed walking past a laughing Arthur, towards camp.

The whole group seems to relax once they realise that the tension between Merlin and Arthur had been resolved (or at least... changed. A different type of tension. The type that made Leon want to lay their bedrolls on opposite sides of the camp).

The evening passes quietly, nothing of note happening, and soon enough, everyone is asleep.

The next few days aren’t quite as tense, but they still hurry their horses, taking few breaks. It was wordlessly agreed that they wanted to get there as quickly as possible, so that they might have time to assess the situation properly.

Everyone was still understandably worried, but with Merlin being so relaxed, and Arthur seeming ok (ish) with what was happening, they kept their anxieties to themselves.

It’s the second night they stop to make camp, that Gwaine informs them that if they keep the same pace and get up early, they should be there just before noon the next day. 

Everyone is a little tense at that, but Merlin speaks first:

“I’d say the rain isn’t going to hit until noon. If we move quickly, we should have at least a little time to plan..”

The group once again relaxes at that, grateful that they would at least have time to think things through, and check the surrounding area, before anything happened.

The relaxed atmosphere doesn’t last long, however. When they’d first stopped to make camp (that was around three hours ago now) Morgana had sat straight down, out of the way, and began to meditate. Without warning, she opens her eyes with a flash of gold, and lets a tear slip down her cheek before looking to Merlin.

He furrows his brows, and begins to speak before she can say anything:

“Morgana? What did you see?”

She lets out a humourless laugh, drawing even more worried attention from the group, before she replies:

“I’ve been trying to look past tomorrow. The near future, the far future, anything. Anything that might clue us in to the outcome. You know what I see?-”

Everyone is staring at her, clearly anxious, but she doesn’t take her eyes off Merlin, not even when Gwen places a gentle hand on her shoulder:

“-I see your mother and Gaius, quietly crying. I see Arthur, with a golden crown on his head, and a silver crown in his hands. I see a tombstone, with a name I can’t quite make out. I see your chambers, empty and cold, unlived in and covered in dust. I see... I see us. All nine of us that is, sat around our table. But one of the seats is empty, your seat. And all of us look... blank. That, is what I see, Merlin. And through all of it, I can feel your absence like a flame on my skin. I can see past tomorrow with ease. But I can’t see you.”

Morgana looks devastated. Everyone else in the group looking various mixes of shocked, scared, heartbroken.

Merlin nods slightly, and frowns staring into his lap. He was so certain that... logically, he should be fine. He’s died before and been fine. But Morgana’s visions are rarely that inaccurate, and if she’s stopped seeing his future entirely... well. It wasn’t a good sign.

He hums thoughtfully, before wiping the expression off his face and looking up determinedly:

“That changes nothing. I either do this, and everyone bar me survives, though I still think I’ll be fine, or we ignore your visions entirely, ride back to Camelot, and risk the life of every single one of Camelot’s citizens. And that’s not an option, so we’re just going to have to see what happens.”

Everyone opens their mouth to protest at the same time, but before any of them can make even a sound, Merlin jumps up, and speaks again. His voice is sharp, and invites no argument:

“NO. I said it’s not an option. This is what I do. I always used to hate the idea of a pre-written destiny, but if I’m meant to die tomorrow, then fine. So be it. I will NOT put my own life above anyone else’s. Especially not a whole kingdom’s, and ESPECIALLY not any of yours.”

He breathes deeply, and after giving a short glare to everyone individually, he sits down again. 

He’s seated between Arthur (who had barely left his side) and Percival, who takes the Sorcerer’s hand in his own, holding it in his lap.

Merlin smiles at him as he attempts to pull his hand back:

“I’m fine Perc, I don’t need comforting. I always figured I would end up dying before you lot anyway-”

Everyone shuffles uncomfortably at that. No one likes to think about outliving one of their closest friends:

“-not that I think I’m gonna stay dead anyway. But that’s not the point.”

Percival holds onto Merlin’s hand tightly, but stares into the fire as he replies quietly:

“This isn’t comfort for you, Merlin. It’s comfort for me.”

Merlin seems taken aback at this, like he had only just considered that his friends might need comforting in the first place. He forgets sometimes (read: most of the time) , that he is as important to these people, as they are to him. He can’t imagine willingly going to any of their deaths, not without putting up one hell of a fight.

He nods, after he wipes the shock from his face, and settles his hand in Percival’s, instead of trying to pull away:

“I’m sorry. I know this can’t be easy for any of you-”

(as he speaks, he lets his other hand subtly gather up the fabric of Arthur’s cloak, for his own sake or Arthur’s, he’s not sure)

“-but I need you to trust me. Believe me, I’m not trying to get myself killed permanently... I mean dying even temporarily isn’t exactly fun but... you know. I’ll be fine.”

It’s Gaius that replies first. The others were especially worried about the physician, he was practically Merlin’s father at this point, and none of them thought they could cope with having to comfort the man if they lost Merlin.

“It’s not that we don’t trust you, Merlin. We’re just... worried. And it’s not like you’re well known for considering your own safety when it comes to planning for any sort of conflict.”

Merlin looks as if he’s going to protest, but Gwen beats him to the punch:

“Don’t argue Merlin. You can’t deny that you have a habit of jumping head first into the fray.” She says it with a small smile, but it’s weak, and Merlin suddenly feels guilty for all those times he’s worried his friends. 

He threw himself into situations he was sure he would be able to survive, without considering the fact that none of the people he cared about had the same assurances. 

His reply makes everyone chuckle

“Yeah, well. You know me. I’ve never been much of a planner.-”

The Sorcerer squeezes Percival’s hand once more, before continuing:

“-But it’s late, and if we want to get up early we should head to sleep.”

The group nods in agreement, and all begin to shuffle to their bedrolls, having hushed individual conversations as Arthur declares that he and Merlin would take the first watch.

(No one questions it. They rarely set watches nowadays, Merlin’s wards have become incredibly reliable over the years, but all of them understand that The King and The Sorcerer need this time.)

Other than Merlin and Arthur, Percival was the last to leave his seat, ruffling Merlin’s hair as he gives him a weak smile, before making his way to his roll to undoubtedly toss and turn through the night, like everyone else.

The King and The Sorcerer didn’t move from their spots next to each other, and, at some point during the conversation, Arthur had replaced the clutched fabric of his cloak with his own hand.

They stay silent for a while, not really knowing what to say. Despite everyone’s worries, the rest of the group is asleep after not too long. It had been two days of hard travel and sleeping rough, and no one would admit it but they were all exhausted.

Both of them seem to realise that there was little chance of them getting to have those conversations at a later date. The two of them struggled individually on what would be worse: forcing the conversation now before it was too late but knowing that might be the end of it, or leaving everything unsaid and leaving Arthur with the regret.

Merlin was inclined to leave it unsaid. As far as he was concerned, he would still be fine (though he was now unsure if he was right, or if he was just in denial).

Arthur wanted to get it off his chest. He may be a tad emotionally constipated, but Merlin is... well... Merlin. It took him a while to realise his feelings for Merlin, but once he did, it was like an unending avalanche.

On some level, Arthur knew that Merlin felt the same, but would it be cruel? Or distracting? For him to voice it now, before everything?

He remembers saying weeks ago “We’ve plenty of time before things kick off” . But that time had passed. It had flown by. Arthur thought he would have forever with Merlin, even when the war was declared he wasn’t worried. But suddenly there was no more time. He might lose him tomorrow.

Did he want to taint what few hours they had left with an emotional confession that could wreck them both? Or should he leave it, steadfast in the belief that Merlin knew. Which would be crueller?

In the end, Arthur decided that he wouldn’t be able to live with it: the doubt, the regret, if he never said anything, and... something... happened.

He grips Merlin’s hand tighter in his own, and swallows, but before he could say anything:

“I know.” Merlin doesn’t look at him when he thinks it, but squeezes The King’s hand in return.

“No, I... you have to let me... I’ll never forgive myself if I don’t, so just-”

Merlin does look at him then, and gives him a gentle smile to stop him rambling:

“Ok, Arthur. I’m here, I’m listening, I hear you.”

Arthur meets his gaze, a steady stream of tears down his face that causes Merlin to frown slightly:

“I... Merlin-”

Arthur struggles with the words, thinking back, he can’t remember a time he’s actually said them out loud. Ever.

He clears his throat, straightens his back, and steels his eyes. Merlin deserved the truth. And Merlin felt the same, he had never been more sure of anything:

“Merlin, I love you. And if you don’t come back to me at the end of tomorrow, I will never forgive you.”

His resolve cracks slightly at the end, but Merlin smiles at him fondly, teary eyed himself:

“I love you too. And I already told you, Arthur, I will always come back to you.”

Arthur grips Merlin’s hand tighter, and buries his head in the Sorcerer’s neck. Merlin wrapped his arms around him, and leans back against the log they were sitting against.

They fall asleep like that, the two of them wrapped in Arthur’s cloak. At some point during the night, Arthur’s head had slipped down onto Merlin’s chest, but neither moved. If anything, Arthur found he could sleep easier with Merlin’s steady heartbeat in his ears.

~

The Gang woke when it was still dark, but not in the way they had planned.

They all wake with a start, automatically pulling out swords and summoning weapons, before they realise that the blizzard like wind and deafening roar, was just Kilgharrah, landing on the edge of their camp.

They settle for only a moment, before they realise that Merlin hadn’t summoned him, which meant he turned up of his own volition, and that meant he brought news. And knowing Kilgharrah, it probably wasn’t good news.

Merlin approaches him quickly, a frown on his face and Arthur close behind him:

“What is it Kilgharrah, is Camelot ok?”

The Dragon lowered his head to meet Merlin’s worried stare before replying:

“Yes, the city is safe, young Warlock. I have left Aithusa to watch over it whilst I tracked you here. The army you face is in front of you, not behind you.”

Morgana speaks up quickly after that, a frown on her face:

“What army? I haven’t foreseen any big battles in a while, believe me, I’ve been looking. The only people that should be in that meadow, is us, and whoever... and one other man.”

Kilgharrah looks over the group slowly before looking back at Merlin and replying:

“It appears, Emrys, that you will finally get a chance to show off the extent of your power. An army is waiting for you, in that meadow, and you are the only one with the capacity to defeat them.”

Merlin takes a deep breath, and clenches his hands (one of which is quickly taken by Arthur. Another example of neither of them knowing which of them the action was meant to comfort):

“I don’t know if I’m that powerful Kilgharrah, I’ve never-”

“The only reason you do not know the breadth of your power, is because you’ve never before come even close to your limits.”

“But I-”

“Your magic is tied to nature, Emrys. Use it. Bend it to your will. The entirety of the world will move at your whim, you need only ask-”

Before Merlin can reply, or ask what the hell that means, Kilgharrah lifts his head suddenly, as if hearing something, and looks briefly to Merlin once more as he replies, before flying off:

“Have faith, young Warlock, in yourself and in destiny. I must leave you now.” 

Everyone stands still, not quite in shock, but definitely confused, all bar Merlin, who just looks annoyed:

“Fucking typical. What’s the use of being a Dragon Lord if my giant pet lizard is going to be so bloody cryptic all the time.” is mumbled by the Warlock, as he looks towards the sun, just about rising over the horizon.

He sighs once more, before:

“Come on then. I suppose that was a good a wake up call as any. We should pack up and get going if we want to get a look at this army.-”

The next bit is mumbled to himself as he lets go of Arthur’s hand and wanders off to dismantle the wards:

“-And I suppose I now have half a day’s journey to figure out to beat it. That’s just great.”

It only takes a moment before the group launches into action, now freshly tense at the revelation that there was an army, and there was only ten of them.

They had faith in Merlin, and Morgana was there as well. And if everything really went to shit, there could be two dragons there to lend a helping hand (or claw) as well. But still. An army. That was big.

They’re riding out on the last leg of the journey within an hour, everyone having regained the tenseness that they had on the first day. Though all of them are slightly comforted by the fact that Kilgharrah hadn’t mentioned Merlin dying. He may be a cryptic bastard, but that definitely seemed like something he would bring up.

~

Gwaine’s directions and timings were accurate, they reached the edge of the seemingly empty meadow around half an hour before the sun hit the centre of the sky.

They remain hidden in the trees, Merlin casting a quick enchantment to shield them from being detected, before looking to Morgana and nodding.

The two of them close their eyes and stretch their arms forward, towards the meadow. A few mutterings and tilted heads later, they open their eyes. Merlin looking grim, but determined, and Morgana looking scared.

Lancelot is the first to speak:

“What is it, what’ve they go out there?”

Merlin looks at him briefly, before darkly saying:

“Why don’t I show you?”

With that, he once more raises his arm towards the meadow. His eyes glow brightly and he speaks quietly, other hand clenched at his side.

After a few moments, tendrils of light extend from his fingertips, and snake out around the perimeter of the meadow. Once the meadow is surrounded, Merlin twists his wrist sharply, and the tendrils turn inwards, shooting towards the centre point. After only a few metres they seem to meet an invisible barrier, and explode upwards towards the sky.

The light is blinding enough to force the gang to all shield their eyes, but they quickly open again when they hear an uproarious cacophony of noise.

What they see, is a huge army gathered at the far end of the field, packing up camp and preparing to move off, in the direction of Camelot.

It takes only a moment before a voice rings out above the noise, coming from somewhere around the edges:

“THE BARRIER IS DOWN!! WE CAN BE SEEN!”

A voice answers back, shouting for everyone to be prepared, that they would be noticed soon, and that the fight was coming to them.

Arthur furrowed his brow before quietly:

“That was their King, I recognise his voice. He must have sorcerers with him to keep the barrier going.”

Leon answers first:

“This is why our scouts haven’t seen anything, there’s been nothing to see.”

Merlin once again begins muttering to himself, drawing everyone’s attention to him (and also reminding them that apparently, Merlin had the power to take out the whole army) :

“Well, at least it’s smaller than I was expecting, underestimating us apparently. Sorcerers could be a problem though. Hmm.”

Morgana speaks up:

“I feel three. powerful, but not really fighters. They’re here for the barrier, and they don’t seem particularly happy about it either-”

She looks towards Merlin, face serious:

“-If you make it clear who you are... they might join us.”

Merlin hums thoughtfully, before replying:

“Depends entirely on if their fear of me outweighs their fear of him.”

The Gang looks taken aback at the mention of fearing Merlin. Elyan quietly saying:

“Why would they fear you? I know that you’re Emrys and everything, but I thought it was a Druid peace-keeping sort of thing you had going?”

Merlin looks back at the group, anger on his face, as he responds darkly:

“They’re threatening Camelot, her people, her King. I’m very much pissed off right now, of course they should be scared of me.”

Before he has time to say anything else, they notice that the army is about ready to move out, and Arthur gestures everyone to quickly get back and hide as he rushes towards Merlin:

“Merls! Ok... so, in the vision, the field was already empty when it started raining, and we have maybe 15 minutes at most before then, so what happens? Whatever we do, we need to do it now, they’re about to leave. Or maybe the field was empty because we let them go?”

Merlin responds quickly:

“No, we didn’t see the whole field in the vision remember, and this half is empty-”

He thinks for a moment, and Arthur looks towards the army, before looking back at the others, and then finally settling his eyes on Merlin once more:

“-Put your crown on, you and me are going to march across there, and they need to know who we are. The others will stay here, out of sight.”

Arthur looks worried, and put a hand on Merlin’s shoulder:

“You do know what you’re doing, don’t you?”

Merlin smiles back at him:

“Nah, figured I’d just wing in. Come on, I’m Emrys. I got this in the bag.”

Arthur frowns as Merlin chuckles, before grabbing his crown from his saddlebag. The others looks to him questioningly, but he just shakes his head, and gestures for them to stay hidden. They don’t look too pleased at that, but they follow his orders, and hide themselves and the horses among the bushes.

The King and the Sorcerer take a deep breath, before looking at each other and nodding firmly. They march out from their hiding spot amongst the trees, and make a beeline for the army, walking confidently.

Merlin made sure to walk just a step behind Arthur, and it takes only a few seconds for a lookout to spot them and yell.

The two of them stop in the middle of the empty space as the whole army looks towards them, their King stepping forward:

“Ah! King Arthur-”

The way he says King, like it disgusts him, like Arthur doesn’t deserve the title, has Merlin fuming, but he doesn’t step forward just yet.

“-It would seem that you have bought your druid pet, to beat my army. I WILL SEE YOUR HEADS ON SPIKES!”

Spittle flies from his red face as he screams the last part, and Merlin sees the way Arthur clenches his hand. Before his... friend? (can he say that after last night?) can reply in anger:

“Introduce me, and then go back to the others. I’ll be fine, he’s clearly underestimated me.”

Arthur’s back straightens, and he leaves his face blank as he shouts his reply to the angered King:

“You clearly underestimate us. This-”

(he gestures absentmindedly to Merlin, who steps forward and allows his eyes to begin glowing.)

“-is Emrys. He will make quick work of your... army.” 

Neither of them pay attention to his reply as they look at each other. The glow fades from Merlin’s eyes as he puts a hand on Arthur’s shoulder:

“Trust me, go back to the others and I’ll take care of it. All of nature is at my fingertips, apparently. Go, I love you.”

Arthur clenches his jaw and nods, before turning and walking back to the others, smiling to himself as he notices the almost transparent shield that had formed around him as he walked.

Merlin takes a few steps towards the army (which is getting louder and louder as the King makes his way through the ranks, shouting encouragement and rallying them) before stopping in place and frowning.

Unless he wants to cause issues with time, he should probably keep it as similar to the vision as he can. He looks to the side, the same place he had seen himself look four days ago, and speaks:

“ I’m sorry. But it’s coming. I can’t stop it, I tried. This is the only way. Just... relax... it’ll hurt less. Four days.”

He narrows his eyes and focuses, and he can just about make out a hazy mirror image of himself stood a few feet away:

“Arthur loves you... me..... us. Don’t let him down.”

The image fades as he takes a deep breath, and continues his march towards the army.

There’s a clap of thunder, and suddenly the skies open, Merlin frowns to himself as he mutters:

“Oh for fucks sake, why am I always right?”

The army begins their sprint towards him, and Merlin stops his quick pace, planting his feet, and raising his hands to the sky. The Sorcerer figures that there’s already a storm, and a storm is part of nature, right? He might as well take advantage.

The golden glow from his eyes is almost blinding as his brings his hands down quickly, palms facing the floor. Lightening strikes the ground with a flash and a few hundred of the men at the forefront of the army fall to not rise again.

Merlin grunts as he realises he’s going to have to try a lot harder if he’s to succeed in taking out the 12,000 angry arseholes running at him.

He continues aiming lightening at the fastest knights, nearest the front, taking out groups of them at a time.

He feels another magical presence, and he glances to the side to see a young woman at the edge of the meadow, clothes in tatters and feet bare. She meets his gaze and nods, before looking to the army and shouting a spell. The ground shakes slightly and a large chunk of the army falls into cracks into the ground.

Those his lightening had not touched finally come within reach of Merlin, and he has to jump back as swords reach for his neck. He swings one of his arms in a wide arc, and a burst of blue fire elevates the war cries around him, into screeches of agony.

He has to banish dark thoughts as the stench of burnt flesh reaches his nose, and he swings his arm wide once more, the same again.

Now with a little more space to move, though with little time before he’s crowded again, he kneels, and slams closed fists down into the mud.

The moment his skin touches the ground, the whole meadow shakes, much more than it had previously, and the whole army stumbles and falls.

There is a moment of silence and calm once the shaking stops, everyone trying to regain their bearings, but it doesn’t last long, as the ground opens. Sinkholes and cracks expand all across the meadow, thousands of men screaming as they fall into unknown depths, or drown in mud.

Merlin stares out in wonder as he realises he hasn’t said a word since the battle began. He had used no spells, the world around him simply understood what he wanted, and obeyed his orders. Nature bending to his whim indeed.

His thoughts last only a minute before he forces himself to concentrate once more. He can feel the three other sorcerers trying to protect themselves, and prevent anyone from escaping. Looks like Morgana was right. Though they were exhausted from holding the barrier in place, and even if they hadn’t been, even combined, their power was nothing compared to Merlin’s.

He pulls his arms from the ground, palms facing towards the sky (which is still pouring). As he does, every crater, every pit, closes with a snap, the field seeming suddenly much emptier as half the army, and all the previous bodies, disappear into the mud.

Only a thousand or so men remain, and, ignoring their cowardly King’s shouts (he was hidden somewhere to the right of Merlin, out of his sight. Hmmm. He would have to take care of that later.) they try to scatter into the woods surrounding the meadow.

Merlin closes his hands to fists. Vines and roots burst from the ground, all sharp thorns and gnarled wood as they speed towards the fleeing soldiers.

The screams grow louder once more as all but a few of the knights are pierced, and wrapped, and dragged towards their muddy places of burial.

Merlin stands once more, and tilts his head towards the trees with a silent request.

He smirks as the sounds of wolves reach his ears, howling and growling and rabid through the trees. That’ll do it. No one would be able to outrun them.

The battlefield lay empty. The bodies having been swallowed by the earth, or still running around piss scared in the woods.

Merlin turns towards the sorcerers standing twenty metres away, meaning to promise them safety and amnesty in Camelot, because of their immediate willingness to help, but before he can say anything, he sees their eyes widen as they look behind him in horror.

He gasps in realisation, and goes to turn and defend himself, but before he can, he staggers suddenly forward as he feels a bursting pain in his spine and spread through his chest. He looks down to see the front of a sword poking out from where his heart should be.

With his last few seconds of lucidity he jerkily waves his hand behind him and feels the King (”How could I have fucking forgotten about him? I was thinking about him literally 3 minutes ago??”) stumble back a few steps, leaving the sword behind.

Merlin falls to his knees, still staring at the end of the blade, blood dripping from his mouth as he hears an agonised yell from across the meadow.

He finally falls completely, his face angled towards the floor and his eyes fluttering as he hears a metallic *swoosh* and a *gargle* and a *thump* behind him, before Arthur falls to his knees at his back.

The last thing Merlin remembers, is hearing Arthur muttering something or other as he gets pulled towards him, but by the time his eyes look to the sky, his mind, and face, are blank.

~

THIS IS COMPLETED, PART 5 (link at the top, and in the masterlist) IS THE FINAL PART!

Let me know if y’all want my thoughts on anything in particular :)