#If it hadn't been Gaius...

[thenotoriousscuttlecliff]

Reverend Mother Mohiam: We wouldn't be in this mess if Jessica had just done as she was told and had a daughter. Alia: 'Sup bitch. Reverend Mother Mohiam: I take that back. This is so much worse.

[sheyshen]

A relaxing afternoon reading.

bonus shot without the railing:

[warlordfelwinter]

love the ways that fiver looks at gaius. he is So Uncomfortable about being in the same room as this man

[drenched-in-sunlight]

Honestly, after finding out that most of the bosses are optional except for Messmer (and of course a few others) just makes it even more sad for me. After finding out the Rellena and Gaius are both optional bosses and not Messmer just shows that those two truly don't share the same fate and Messmer was to truly die alone without ever seeing Marika as well.

yeah and you know the even more messed up part? i think when Marika shattered the Elden Ring, she probably thought that Messmer would be safer in LoS 😭😭 they were separated, but at least her firstborn wouldn't be pulled into the power struggle that would tear everything apart in the Lands Between. and it's true. when we get there... Messmer is safe in Shadow Keep.

ppl in LoS has no idea the Elden Ring was shattered, they just thought it was some serious stuff going on in LB. Messmer was dispirited and sounded tired, but he had resigned to the fate of never seeing his Mother again. if we never showed up i think he'd have no problem waiting for a miracle from her forever.

hell, he didn't even give two fucks that Miquella was going there to become a new God and take his old friend as Consort, or Godwyn knights were running around trying to find a body replacement for their Prince. but well, we have to barge into his house and trigger all his anxiety at a same time because we need his Kindling to go stop Miquella. holy hell.

and don't get me wrong, i understand that thematically, both he and Marika get what is due to them. in their quest for revenge they have done truly horrible crimes, and in the end even their love for each other got twisted into a final curse sealing their fates. but all of it is just so tragic. because, yes, the love was there. maybe it could have gone a lot easier for everyone involved if the love hadn't been there, but it was, and now everyone suffers.

and if you think back about the Dark / Abyss theme in DS1, Manus - Father of the Abyss, was once human. he was consumed by the Abyss because his humanity went wild, trying to look for something that he had lost:

"This extraordinary soul is a viscous, lukewarm lump of gentle humanity."

"The will feels envy, or perhaps love, and despite the inevitable trite and tragic ending, the will sees no alternative, and is driven madly towards its target."

it circles back so perfectly to Marika and Messmer's fates that it got me sitting there staring at a wall. jfc. how the hell did Fromsoft do this again?

[mysticsublimeperson]

Based on this post I wrote sometime ago, I got a little idea

Arthur was furious, he had been waiting too much for his supper. Merlin definitely was going to pay for that.

He had been in such a good mood after the improvised hunt he went on that afternoon. He knew Merlin tended to do this little acts of revenge when he makes him cover for him, be a little late, have the water a bit too cold or burning hot, pick the itchy nightshirt, tiny thing that he allowed for the sake of the strange relationship they had. But it had been more than three candle marks since the night bell. He was hungry.

Could he have called for another servant to bring him food? Yes, yes he could. But it was a question of principles.

And he was the prince.

"Call for Merlin, bring him here, now!" he roared to the guard posted at his door, who gave him a surprised look at the sudden request.

"Sire?"

"You know what?" he decided "leave it, I will look for him myself, and I will make him eat my boots when I find him!"

Arthur went to Gaius's chambers muttering threads to the air "If he has gone to the tavern, so help me god I'll have him made stocks just for him" he said fuming as he strut his way to the tower.

"MERLIN!" he shouted when he entered the infirmary.

No one answered. The room was badly lit and Gaius was nowhere to be seen, which meant that Gaius was likely doing his nightly rounds.

"Merlin!" he called again, while he marche to Merlin's tiny room without paying any mind. He opened the door with a bang, and tried to make sense of the space, this room was almost in total darkness, the light of the moon slipping through the window.

"Merlin!" said while shoving the bundle of sheets in Merlins bed out of the way, only to find it empty, "oh, ho ho... I'm going to kill him" he declared turning around and shouting his name out, just for the sake of burning some steam.

"Sire?" he heard the door squeak open while a tired looking Gaius entered the chambers "Is everything ok?" he said quietly.

"Of course not, Gaius. Have you got any idea of where in the world could be my useless of a manservant?" Gaius looked stricken by the question.

"Why do you ask your highness? Do you need him for something?" his tone was strange but Arthur hadn't caught it yet.

"Obviously Gaius, I been waiting for my food for ages, Im properly famished and it's all his fault. So don't try to protect him, tell me the truth, Where is he? Is he in the tavern? I bet he is..."

"Merlin is here" he said slowly, and pointed to the cot in the corner of the room.

"He sleeping! I can't believe him, Is he drunk? He must be, not hearing my call" he kept ranting while he got close to the cot.

"Gods, Child!" Arthur stopped on his tracks, Gaius hadn't talked to him like that in a long time. "Can't you see?" he said, and now Arthur could detect something in his voice, not yet understanding what it was.

Gaius took a candle and got close to him so Arthur could see.

"What?" Suddenly his voice didn't work correctly, and felt simultaneously the need to see what Gaius meant and to turn away and leave without never understanding what Gaius meant.

He breathed and looked at the cot.

Merlin was pale, sweaty and dirty. More than usual, and his face looked sucked in, his hair looked oily, he was lying on his side and his hands were resting next to his face, dark with dirt and his wrist red and raw. He could not see very well, but he guessed that his neck would be in a similar condition.

"How much time he was in the stocks?" he asked softly.

Merlin had told him that it was a common occurrence, when Arthur decided to flee of his responsibilities that he needed a moment to breathe, Uther punished Merlin a bit by putting him in the stocks. But Arthur did it too, he wouldn't say constantly, but Merlin probably would. The fact was that the stocks had never put him in this position before.

Gaius shook his head "He was just released" he answered with disappointment, he was disappointed at him "Your father was rather upset you weren't at the meeting with Lord Durham" Gaius he'd moved to his working table and was grinding herbs, he almost managed to sound detached.

"I... I know" Arthur didn't know what to say. He kept looking at Merlin in the semidarkness. A whole day in the stocks, still, he'd seen people in worst state than Merlin get through that, and not end up like this. Something was missing.

"He was in the stocks the whole day Arthur" Gaius explained a bit chocked up, and then moved behind Merlin with two bowls, une with water and a cloth and the other where he had been grinding the herbs. He pulled up his shirt and with the cloth he started to clean softly. Arthur's stomach started to ache, suddenly the hunger and fury that had moved him across the castle disappeared and transformed itself in something else.

"There were no breaks, and no one was allowed to bring him food or water" Arthur tried not to gasp, while the old man kept cleaning, and even in the darkness he could see how the cloth was staining an ugly dark color.

"Uther seemed to be under the impression that he had some kind of knowledge of your whereabouts, because he kept asking. And then he got tired. And he had Merlin flogged" Arthur had to close his eyes, he was shaking, he had known it was coming, Gaius did not try to hide the situation, and it was obvious something more had happened but to put it in to words made so real it hurt.

"Merlin is a member of the royal household..." he said weakly, that punishment was disproportionate, that was something he would expect for a prisoner or a traitor. The guilt settled in his throat, in his chest, in his stomach, he was afraid of asking more, suddenly afraid of getting closer, of seeing it with both his eyes.

"Ten lashes" Gaius answered the unasked question and Arthur sucked his breath.

He had to stabilize himself. Ten lashes were for the weaker, it was enough to kill.

"The sun was high in the sky when they did it" Gaius kept talking and Arthur just wanted him to shut up he needed time to process "He spent the day in the sun, with the wounds open" he took the herbs in his hands and started applying them to Merlin's back, the man did not even flinch "We are lucky the infection hasn't taken him already" Arthur let himself fall in the bench trying to control himself. "So Arthur, I'd like to think that whatever you were doing, whatever secret quest Merlin paid the price for, was important"

"I..." he didn't know why he was talking, there were no words that could be said that excused this, just "I am so sorry" chocked out, his voices sounding unstable.

Gaius did not answer. He kept applying the herbs in silence.

[hannahhook7744]

Official Merlin Ask Game!;

Favorite canon ship.

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Worst thing you think Uther ever did.

Worst thing you think Arthur ever did.

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One off character you wish had a bigger part.

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Random Knights Headcanon.

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Unpublished Merlin Fic Idea you have that you'd like to share.

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Favorite Magical creature?

Myth you wished had been adapted in Merlin?

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Underrated friendship?

Random plot idea you think would have been funny for an episode?

[the-wanderer]

I feel like alot of the conflict in the BBC Merlin show could have been avoided if Merlin hadn't been told certain prophecies - like if he hadn't been warned about Morgana and Mordred he probably would have confided in Morgana when her magic started manifesting and probably would have treat Mordred as a friend like Merlin treats everyone well and that could have changed the events and changed that final showdown with Arthur, if they were just allowed to make their own choices unencumbered by prophecy like from the dragon. I know of course that's how the legends play out and the show has to follow that, and Arthur has to die so that he can be reborn one day, as he is The Once and Future King, but it's fun to think about, but like Gaius says some events are so tightly woven in to the world nothing can change their outcome

[escespace]

Merlin and Arthur BUT...

An undercover reconnaissance mission has gone wrong. Not just one, but three knights from Camelot's elite group are wounded, and after a night in the woods, they're out of medical supplies so Merlin has started looking for herbs that serve specific functions such as antiseptic or analgesic, if possible he also looks for muds that Gaius taught him and other useful elements to mix improvised poultices. He has made improvised bandages and immobilization splints, and even more impressive, improvised thread and carved a wooden needle in case stitches open.

But no one seems too worried, even though they are facing a return trip of almost three days. Arthur is on the edge of his nerves (although he doesn't show it because kings don't do that) and he's not the one with the multiple lacerations of Gwaine, or a nearly fractured ankle as Elyan, or that bleeding head bruise that made Percival vomit even what he ate as a child. Instead, whenever they are not resting or too far gone in their pain, the knights joke and chatter as if it were just another hunting trip.

Arthur doesn't understand it, but he's not one to look down on his men keeping their morale high even in bad times So he makes a comment about how everything will be okay and that they shouldn't worry, which is responded to with:

«Of course, there is no one else who would take better care of us» Placing a hand on Merlin's shoulder to playfully shake him

And they may say it in a light-hearted way, but It is evident that they mean it and sue him! But Arthur is surprised.

Somehow that comment paved the way for the anecdotes to start flowing. Like the time Gwaine ended up splitting his head open trying to escape from an engaged lady's room jumping from roof to roof and as Gaius was treating a family outside It was up to Merlin to sew it, and there was no scar left after that !

Leon also contributed his own story of a time when a rabbit It didn't sit well in his stomach during a mission through the woods and if it hadn't been for Merlin it might have ended up compromising the success.

Stories came and went and Arthur couldn't stop thinking. Because his problem wasn't that he couldn't reconcile the fact that all his most trusted men were praising Arthur's ability to cure them, no. His problem is why the hell he can't reconcile that idea. The boy has been studying with the best physician in Camelot for almost a decade It would be hard to believe if he didn't learn anything, right? RIGHT????... Damn! But he's not even a boy anymore. When did that happen? What's even happening? Merlin does not change, Merlin is Merlin, he is his only constant, he is a force that ground him.

Anyway, this idea is in my head as a kind of 3+1 that I'm not sure I can develop. If anyone is interested in writing it, feel free to do so BUT TAG ME PLEASEEEEEE. i want to read something around this lines...

The other scenes I could think of have to do with taking care of some children while Arthur thinks Merlin is in the tavern and he is looking for him then late arthur embarrassed himself through a series of comments In front of someone (possibly Gwen or a courtier) who does know where Merlin is thinks Arthur is making reference to sick children... And a snippet of Arthur being a baby for just a minor cold and Merlin being the only one he allows to take care of him even though he continues to underestimate his medical knowledge until suddenly damn! Merlin knows what he's talking about BUT MORE IMPORTANTLY, he is the only one he would let see him in such a state and that is why he only allows him to help him and it's not only out of convenience as he first thought ... It would end with Arthur defending Merlin in front of some older people (perhaps) who doubt his ability because they see him too young.

[boggywitchin]

Merlin's grief was different. His grief was that of boy who'd become man, not through the time honored practice of maturing one silly mistake at a time, but through making a series of mistakes that had cost him the lives of his dearest friends, his father, and countless, countless strangers. He had been a boy thrust into the role of protector, wielding an untested power, who'd been left to guide himself the best he could with the limited information given to him by Gaius and Kilgharrah.

His maturity was born of death, of hard decisions and even harder consequences. But he would have endured it all gladly for the sake of Arthur; for the sake of the love he felt that went beyond their shared destiny. Yet here he was, years of service and untold sacrifice boiled down to a single moment of humiliation. He hadn't deserved that. And while Arthur might truly be sorry, truly repent his actions, Merlin wasn't that same boy anymore.

Even after he had revealed his power and fulfilled their destiny at the Battle of Camlann, the grief wouldn’t leave him. Arthur was King, shaping the Golden Age of Camelot, honoring the promise he made by allowing magic to once again flow freely in the kingdom.

And that same King made countless trips to the Crystal Caves, begging Merlin to return, offering him every enticement he could think of, but he still couldn't do it. He couldn't return to the place that had robbed him of so much and given so little in return. Even with the passage of time, purported to be the ultimate healer, Merlin couldn't make shake the grief and guilt he felt.

[cynthia39100]

Merlin rewatch -- S3E1: The Tears of Uther Pendragon 1

I feel that Arthur looked more mature and authoritative this season. Ready to be king not in more actual sense than just the fact that he's better than Uther. Was it the haircut or Bradley just buffed up more? Maybe it's also because he had to take over some Uther's duties this episode(Is it the first time we see him doing paper work?).

It's this scene where he demanded Gaius' answer regarding Uther's condition gave me the vibe. He had always been a good leader but usually it was on the battlefield or in time of crisis. In this season he seemed to carry that aura around more often. He was confident, perceptive and have good political sense. He immediately knew how the appearance of the crown may affect the kingdom's stability. He also looked like he carried a heavier burden on his shoulders than before.

His demeanour was harder too which might seem closer to Uther. The way he berated Gaius for discussing Arthur's regency with other counselors. I think it's more coming from worrying his father (it's tough the first time seeing your parents severely ill) though, less about usurping the power or what not. Accepting regent meaning believing Uther wouldn't get better, which he hadn't prepared to do. Arthur often expresses negative emotion with anger.

I love how bluntly Arthur admitted that he's not in a good place. It's not easy to see that. A small growth? Hope the show will let him remember. He had a beautiful crying face too~

[S3E1] [other episodes]

[xxv2axx]

Preview of my latest Merlin WIP! I'm not quite sure what I'll call it yet, but it should be a 5 + 1 fic! (I've always wanted to do one of these, so I'm really excited abt it!! ^^)

Here's the idea of the fic: Merlin is aware before the start of the show that he's immortal and is therefore a little more reckless during random daily activities than he probably should be. It's from Arthur's perspective as he continually FREAKS OUT over Merlin carelessly endangering himself without a single thought about it. (It's a 5 + 1 fic because it will be five times Arthur catches Merlin, who he doesn't realize is immortal, doing something unbelievably dangerous for apparently no reason (or just being genuinely oblivious about the situation and why what he's doing is giving Arthur heart problems) and the one time Merlin actually gets hurt (+ the consequential magic reveal when Merlin doesn't die from what appears to be a fatal injury.))

Anyways! That's the general idea of the fic! Here's the little preview for anyone who's interested!

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Arthur's new manservant was certainly...entertaining. Yes, that was probably the right word for it. The boy left quite a lasting impression on Arthur the first time he had met him, and he wouldn't be surprised if the mouth on him hadn't gotten him into trouble before.

The only problem was when Merlin wasn't bantering with Arthur, or being a general nuisance, he was incredibly stupid; and most of the time he wasn't even referring to the few occasions when Merlin simply forgot to do one of the chores Arthur had assigned to him. No, Merlin was incredibly stupid in the fact that he was completely oblivious to his surroundings most of the time, putting himself in unnecessarily dangerous situations that could have been prevented during everyday activities, and giving Arthur a partial heart attack every time it happened.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡1. ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+

It had only been a couple of weeks since Uther had hired Merlin on as his manservant when he began to notice his rather...risky tendencies.

Arthur was out in the lower town with a small group of knights, wandering around on patrol the first time it had happened. It was a slow morning; not a lot happening and therefore not a lot to keep Arthur from complete boredom.

By the time it was time for their group to head back to the citadel, the sun was beating down in hot waves from overhead and it was beginning to get more crowded. Arthur felt only a little put out that the second he had to head back was when everything became busy and so much more interesting.

And yet, perhaps all hopes for something interesting to happen were not completely lost.

Just then Arthur spotted a familiar head of black hair and a scrappy neckerchief pass by on the other side of the crowd a small ways ahead of him.

Merlin seemed to be running errands for Gaius as he stopped at a few different stalls to grab different herbs for the court physician's different tinctures and medicines. Arthur also knew that anything Merlin couldn't find in the market of the lower town, he would have to scavenge for himself outside of Camelot.

As Arthur drew nearer to Merlin he watched as he paid for his items before beginning to cross the street... Right as Arthur began to hear the sound of a fast-approaching horse.

He felt his neck twitch uncomfortably as he jerked his head in the direction of the noise and noticed a large horse and carriage barrelling their way down the path; the crowd parting before them so as not to get run over. All except Merlin who stood directly in front of the rapidly approaching horse as he crossed the street while apparently remaining completely oblivious to the fact he was about to be run over.

Arthur felt his heart leap into his throat and before he knew what he was doing he was rushing away from the knights and toward Merlin. He quickly grabbed onto Merlin's arm, the man in question letting out a surprised noise, and pulled him out of the way right before he could get run over.

Arthur stood in silence for a few moments as he registered the sound of the horse clopping away; the noise of its hooves on the stone pathway getting further and further away. He felt it as his sudden rush of adrenaline began to slow, and tried to catch his breath after the sudden panic and mad dash to save Merlin's life.

"Uh..." Merlin sounded uncertain and Arthur looked at the idiot he had just saved from getting run over. "You could probably let go of my arm now."

Arthur looked down at his hand and took notice of the fact that he had yet to remove it from where he had latched onto Merlin to pull him out of the way. He felt his face begin to heat up and was quick to remove it; obviously, he needed to get to somewhere more shady with more haste than he had originally thought if he was so hot all of a sudden.

"Watch where you're going next time idiot."

Merlin simply smiled and nodded his head, seemingly, and quite confusingly to Arthur, unbothered by the whole situation. "Alright."

Arthur wasn't going to return the smile but he would admit silently to himself that he was grateful Merlin had seemed to agree with him for once without the usual bickering. It wasn't exactly something Arthur wanted to deal with again after all.

It was too bad that this wouldn't be the last time Merlin risked his life in his pure obliviousness.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

That's all for now, though I'll probably make slight changes to it as I self beta it some more later. I'll repost with the AO3 Link later when I finish it in case anyone here finds it interesting!

Thanks for sticking around and taking the time to read my writing. I appreciate it and I hope you enjoyed <3

[the-pen-pot]

The stench of its fur: musk and stale blood. Muscles bulging beneath its pelt as it moved, too quick for anything but a creature of magic. Obsidian claws, sharp and black, raking the ground beneath its feet as it watched him with all the intensity of a predator latching onto its prey. The serpent in the place of its tail, reared back and ready to strike.

Fangs sinking through his chainmail and into his sword-arm. A shout: Merlin's voice, rough over words Arthur did not know. His blood burning through his veins. 

Merlin's eyes, dazzling gold.

Cold raked its talons across him, making him shudder, touching everywhere except the hot, heavy throb of the wound on his arm. He shivered, torn right through as fever consumed him. Maybe this was yet another dream. A figment. Nothing more than the shattered glass of his own addled mind, slicing at him.

He tried to rouse himself, to open his eyes and find Merlin. 

Merlin, who had magic.

The thought skittered away from him, retreating to hide in the shadows. Arthur could not recall ever being so tired in all his life. He kept struggling to marshal his wits, only for them to slip through his fingers. Questions bobbed through his aching head, lost and untethered.

Was he back in Camelot? What day was it? Time was like air, impossible to catch, and whenever he dropped the thread of his thoughts, he could not be sure whether he fell back into slumber or merely lost a moment. His mind was wreathed in fog. Memories loomed from it, grim silhouettes that took on definition only to fade once more.

Merlin. 

Magic.

A cool cloth blotted across his brow, dripping fresh water against his mouth. He licked at it, parched, but his request for a drink was little more than a cracked moan of sound: pained and wretched. He would be embarrassed by his own weakness if he were not too broken to care. Yet it did not seem to matter that he could not find the words. The mattress dipped. An arm slipped beneath his shoulders, supporting his weight as a cup pressed against his lips.

He drank greedily, rivulets running over his chin to collect in the hollow of his throat. Someone bade him to sip, not gulp, and he tried, but his body cried out for the water: feral in its thirst.

His stomach ached and clenched. There was one dizzy, awful moment where he thought he might just expel it all again, but he mastered the urge as he was eased back to the pillows' embrace, lain upon them as if he were something fragile, liable to shatter. His lashes fluttered, his eyelids too heavy to lift, leaving him in the strange, disjointed shadows between dreams and the waking world.

Those hadn't been Gaius' arms cradling him. It had not been the old man's strength raising him up. He did not need his burning, aching eyes to confirm it, not when he could smell the herbs-and-clean-sparks fragrance he knew always clung to Merlin's skin and hair. The perfume nestled in his clothes, too, mixed with laundry soap. It was familiar: comforting in a world that seemed to know only pain, and Arthur's fingers twitched against the blankets, grasping for something that seemed forever out of his reach.

' – delirious, Sire.' Gaius' old voice seemed to come from very far away. He sounded as if he spoke from another world, eerie and lost within the veils. 'The fever must break soon.'

'And if it does not?' 

His father. Broken and bloody over the rack of his own guilt. Braced, as always, to rule and rule and rule despite his tragedies. Did he even see a son in the poisoned shell upon the bed, or was it merely an heir failing to live up to his duty? A dynasty in pieces?

'I fear the prince's strength will be spent.'

There was a noise then, a tiny crack of sound that Arthur suspected was a figment of his fevered imagination. Yet when his father spoke again, the strain in his voice was evident.

'Heal him, Gaius. There must be something you can do?'

'I will try everything in my power, Your Majesty.'

'Use any means necessary. Any means. No questions will be asked.'

If Arthur had the strength, he would have laughed at his father's hypocrisy. He knew what the King asked of Gaius. Once again it seemed that, when all else failed, Uther would turn to the magic he reviled. Now, it was not only the poison that burned in Arthur's blood. Rage blazed alongside it. It surged, rising ever higher in the name of those he had seen led to the executioner for no greater crime than trying to save a loved one from the vagaries of fate.

By his own laws, what Uther asked of Gaius was punishable by death, and still, he did not hesitate.

There was a whisper of cloth and the click of a door in its threshold. In its wake, the silence was punctuated only by the crackle of the fire in the grate. Someone shifted nearby, the mattress bobbing like a small boat in a calm harbour.

'Arthur saw you.' Gaius' voice was closer now. 'You're certain?'

'Yes.' That reply contained multitudes in a single word. Merlin should not sound like that – hurting, resigned: a man already condemned. 'He looked right at me. I saw him see.'

'He might not remember.'

'He will.' A hand rested on his brow: long fingers cool against his arid skin. They teased his sweaty hair back from his brow and brushed over the vault of his temples as if he were something fragile to be treasured. 'He'll know I've lied to him all this time about what I am. What I can do.'

Merlin's words hitched, wobbled, broke. A breath stuttered between his lips, crying out for comfort which Arthur was powerless to give. He could not so much as lift a finger, let alone stir himself back to awareness. It was like he was present but not, an unwilling eavesdropper to Merlin's grief.

'Yet you will heal him.' It wasn't really a question. Gaius said it as if he knew that any alternative would be unthinkable. How easy it would be, Arthur thought, for Merlin to do nothing. He could let him slip from life, vanquished by his fever, and take his secret with him. It was no small thing, after all: a death sentence. Perhaps his father had said no questions would be asked, but it did not matter. If Arthur awoke with accusations of sorcery on his lips, Merlin would not be spared.

He wanted to speak, to promise that it would not come to that, but he could not form the words. Only tiny, tight breaths escaped him, broken upon the blade of his pain. He was a prisoner in his own body: a captive in poison's chains.

'Yes.'

'I see.' Gaius sighed, a world-weary sound, full of melancholy. 'I will pack your bag, just in case.'

It took Arthur's tired mind far too long to unravel that statement. It wobbled in and out of the haze of his mind, baffling – until it dawned, cool, crisp and cruel: a winter's daybreak.

Gaius was packing in case Merlin needed to flee. Not from Uther, who would assume the spell was Gaius' work and turn a blind eye, but from Arthur. Until that moment, he had never realised the truth. He had thought Merlin was a permanent fixture in his life. A certainty. Now, there, in fever's haze, he saw that Merlin was instead always on the cusp of leaving. The secret he held was not simply words unsaid. It was a breach waiting to yawn between them. A precipice. A desolation.

Merlin had lived for years in Camelot with one foot always out of the door.

And Arthur ached for him.

'Clǣnsiġe besmitenblod.'

The magic came upon him, as soft as moonlight. It did not blaze and burn, but seeped across his skin, sinking to flow through his veins and nestle in his bones. It captured the sharpest edges of his pain, peeling them back until he was free of their clutches. His fever roiled, then simmered, ebbing in the tiniest of increments as Arthur lay before it: a victim of its ferocity.

Yet, at last, power's cool balm suffused him. The haze lifted and the shadows retreated, and Arthur's mind, exhausted and battered by a battle he could never have won alone, finally cleared.

He opened his eyes, gritty and disgusting, to blink at the canopy of his bed: a splash of crimson that may as well as be as big as the sky. The blankets weighed him down, pinning him to the mattress, and his body panged with the bitter recriminations of flesh that had fought too hard for its own survival.

Merlin still whispered those same, soft words in a language Arthur didn't know, his voice broken with exhaustion and his eyes shining gold between the seam of his lashes.

Arthur twitched, and Merlin blinked himself awake from his reverie. The invisible net of magic that had woven itself through the chamber spun away to nothing, its gossamer fading from Arthur's senses. For a moment, they stared at each other, and Arthur saw the split-second when Merlin's courage – and he would never, ever again call him a coward – abandoned him.

'Don't.' Arthur gritted his teeth against the ache in his arm as he grabbed Merlin's wrist, stopping him before he could turn-tail and flee. Merlin could break away with ease if he tried, but instead, he hesitated, his body turned towards the door but his gaze, familiar blue now, taking in Arthur where he lay. 'Don't go. Please.'

He could feel how Merlin shook beneath the grasp of his fingers: a subtle tremor born of true terror. And how could he blame him? One word from Arthur, and the guards would come running. Merlin's life would be forfeit.

He had magic, and he had used it to save Arthur's life.

And this was not the first time.

'Merlin, please.'

Maybe it was that last word that did it. After all, Arthur rarely bothered with his manners outside of court. He was a prince, and he was to be obeyed. His father would be appalled to hear him almost begging a servant, and yet the words fled Arthur anyway, desperate and hollow. A strange dread had awoken in his chest, one that told him that if Merlin ran now, then he would never see him again – he would never get the chance to explain, or to listen, or to thank him.

'You should rest,' Merlin rasped, his grief like a bruise upon his voice. Any other man of Arthur's acquaintance would try to hide their feelings, but Merlin had never been one to bother with that. Not once in all the time Arthur had known him. He wore his heart on his sleeve, and it meant every emotion was there for Arthur to witness: guilt and terror, remorse and heartbreak. Yet beneath that, there was relief, as if some huge burden had been shed.

Cautious, Arthur increased the pressure of his grip, no longer merely hanging on to Merlin's arm, but tugging him towards the bed. He did not have the strength to sit up and face this. The aches careening through him warned him to not even make the attempt. Yet nor could he do it at this distance, held at remove. He needed to see Merlin, cast not just in the stark shadows and highlights of the fire, but right at his side.

'Come here?'

'I don't think –'

'I won't hurt you. I would – I would never hurt you.' Arthur swallowed hard, putting as much of his certainty into his gaze as possible. 'Magic or not.'

There. Confirmation, not accusation – but important all the same. In many ways it would be so much easier to pretend it never happened - to feign ignorance and let things carry on the same, but he couldn't do that. He did not want to do that. There, on the fading cusp of fever and delirium, all Arthur cared about was the man at his side. He wanted to know him, all of him, everything he put on display and all that he kept hidden.

That would never be possible if they couldn't face the truth.

He saw the moment of Merlin's collapse, saw it in the sway of his body and the tears threatening to spill over his lashes. It was no swoon. Rather, it was a body sacrificing all its strength beneath the flood of its own emotion. Merlin sagged to sit on the bed as if he couldn't stand a moment longer, his shoulders rounded and his head bent, one hand pressed to his mouth to stifle to the sob that threatened to tear itself free.

'I'm sorry.' It sounded as if it was punched from him, little more than a breath given shape in a scatter of syllables. 'I wanted to tell you, but –'

But his father was the bloody tyrant of Camelot, and Arthur had been taught his whole life to hate magic.

Arthur shook his head, stifling a grunt of pain as he plucked at Merlin's sleeve, tugging at him, nudging and pulling and shoving with all the pathetic tatters of his own strength until Merlin seemed to get the message.

He hesitated for a moment, indecision flickering over his tear-stained face before he sagged down to lie in the empty space at Arthur's left side. He did so on top of the covers, chaste and acceptable, though something in Arthur despised even that much distance. He had a feral urge to wrap Merlin in his arms and make sure he didn't slip away in the night. He still looked wary – a horse about to bolt – and Arthur scrambled through his sluggish mind for the right words to rein him in.

'You saved me.' He wet his lips, rolling on his side so they were facing each other, the space between them intimate and warm. They were like a pair of brackets, their knees knocking, and Merlin's hands clasped in the blankets. 'More than once, I suspect.'

He reached out, cautious, at first insinuating only his smallest finger into the lax curl of Merlin's grasp. Yet it was the leading force in a battalion. The others soon followed, until he was holding Merlin's hand in earnest, his fingertips exploring familiar calluses and the spaces between, the sharp angle of his knuckles and the occasional scar that painted his skin. It was easy to see, in retrospect, how wilfully blind he had been. Now, through the lens of magic, he could see the truth of so much of his good fortune.

'You saved me even though it would have been far safer to let me die.'

Merlin shook his head, and Arthur smothered a smile to see the gaze behind those spiky, wet lashes spark with outrage. Yet he didn't give Merlin a chance to speak. Instead, he squeezed his hand, ushering him back to silence with a simple pair of words.

'Thank you.'

A shivering breath whispered past Merlin's lips as he released it, closing his eyes for a moment and shaking his head against the pillow. 'You aren't... angry?'

Arthur pulled a face at that. He was. He suspected he would be, anyway, once his strength had returned and the full measure of all this had sunk in, though possibly not for the reasons Merlin assumed.

It stung that he had lied, but Arthur could not honestly say he would have done any differently in his place. Not considering how much was at stake. Instead, his anger frothed and simmered around the notion of Merlin taking one look at Camelot – at all its rules and risks – and deciding to use magic anyway. As if he thought anyone, anywhere, was worth the cost of his own life!

'A bit,' Arthur acknowledged at last, knowing that Merlin would catch him out in a lie. The truth was written all over his face, after all. He was too weak and spent for royal masks now. 'Later, maybe a lot, but Merlin, not enough to – to condemn you. Not enough to make you leave.' His voice cracked on that last word, thinning to almost nothing at the thought of him gone from Arthur's life, never to return.

In his youth, he had imagined capturing a sorcerer in Camelot. He had envisioned the adoration of his people and his father's pride as the fiend was dealt with. They were childish fantasies, of course, and he had grown out of them some time ago. Now, all he could think of was the need to protect Merlin, to keep his secret and hold it close, away from the prying eyes of his father and anyone else who would see him burn.

'Stay?' The word slipped out of him, small and hopeless, painfully young even to his own ears. Part of him felt he had no right to ask it of him. How could he, when every day Merlin lingered here, he risked his life merely by existing. Yet nor could he hold it back.

'I'm right here, Arthur.'

'I don't just mean now. I mean – the bag Gaius is packing for you.' He let his eyes roved over Merlin's face, the slant of his brow and the sharpness of his cheekbones, the pink of those full lips and the scatter of stubble across Merlin's jaw that suggested the depths of his vigil.

'You heard that?'

'I heard everything, including what my father said. He is – his hypocrisy is...' Arthur trailed off, unable to speak of it. It sickened him right down to his bones, and he forced himself to push it aside. This was not about his father, not really. This was about him and Merlin. He could not expect Merlin to peel aside all the shadows of his secrecy with nothing offered in return, and he tightened his grip anew, drawing his hand towards him as he made his promise.

'I will never let him hurt you, and I will never be like him.'

Perhaps it was the lingering veils of fever's ebb that dismissed his caution. Maybe it was simply that he was too tired to hold back his natural inclination, but the brush of his lips over Merlin's knuckles, soft and sure, sealed his vow. 

He heard the catch in Merlin's breath and saw the hope – desperate and wild – that flared in his gaze. Yet there was belief there, too. Whatever else Merlin thought of him, whatever fears he harboured, he did not doubt him, and Arthur's heart swooped and thrilled in his chest to see it.

That was a sensation that intensified a thousand-fold when Merlin shifted closer, bowing his head over their joined hands and brushing his lips against Arthur's fingers. 'It's for you, Arthur. My magic, I mean, and I will never allow it to be used against you or your kingdom. I swear it.'

Arthur's throat clicked as he swallowed, feeling the noose of uncertainty loosen around his neck. He had not wanted to give credence to that subtle fear, and yet he could not deny it had pressed its mantle across his back. Yet in Merlin's eyes he saw the truth of what he said: loyalty and devotion on unapologetic display, irrefutable.

There would be time, later, to plumb the full depths of Merlin's secret. There would be the opportunity to learn all that he had done in Arthur's name, the good and the bad, but in that hallowed moment, they built the foundation of something new between them. It was writ in soft, shared breaths and the press of Merlin's brow against his own. It wove around them in the warm air and eased aside the aches in Arthur's muscles.

It began then, not with a kiss – which would come a little over a week later, hot and desperate and all Arthur had ever craved – but with two oaths shared, as solemn and certain as a hand-fasting.

And those were promises they would keep, day-by day and year-on-year, as Merlin led Arthur into the brightness of that promised golden age.

[esper-lit]

Listing them out Rq for the iceberg, cause I’ve played Dislyte on and off since it came out so there’s gaps in my memory: beta Gaius, “special loli” Chang Pu’s age, Legge, Celebrity events.

(Btw I love the iceberg it’s so funny seeing community events all piled together)

Hiya, thanks for the ask! Here's an elaboration of those specific entries:

Beta Gaius

Gaius is a well-known character in the game right now - one that was introduced in version 3.1.1 with the static shock Event.

But! His name was known way before that. Gaius has made an appearance in promotional material before the event was released - before the game itself was actually launched, even! His strange absence after the game's official release was a point of many discussions and a lot of confusion within the fandom, many wondering if he was outright scrapped or just being withheld for an unknown reason.

(the above is a clip from an October 2, 2021 live-stream - about half a year before Dislyte had it's global launch)

As you can see, his early design was a bit different from his final look too - being a lot more yellow than pink.

"special loli"

This is a reference to a very... peculiar ad.

Dislyte is known for having weird advertisements (which I was told is a result of Lilith outsourcing most of their marketing), but this one garnered particular notoriety.

Chang Pu’s age

When the game launched, Chang Pu was officially 15 years old. Later on, however, her age has been changed to 18.

(I could not find screenshots of her in-game bio that showed Chang Pu being 15, but the wiki's change history can attest to this actually happening)

Many speculated this was a result of players being gross towards a minor character, and thus a reason for why we hadn't gotten any non-adult espers since.

Legge (Heimdall)

Datamined information shows that Heimdall's esper was originally conceived as a male character named Legge:

(his name and this image are the only things I have been able to find regarding him)

As you probably already know, Legge has since been scrapped and replaced with Ashley. Not much is known about him I'm afraid.

Celebrity Profile Events

These events have been used to introduce new characters during the game's beta and are the very first Event Tales (at least as far as I know) ever released.

There have been two of them: one for Clara and one for Sienna.

Post-launch, these have been replaced with the story events we have now - beginning with Ollie and The Lone Star event.

Whitewashing and Blackface

(I'm including it here so I don't have to make a separate answer lol, for the sake of being tidy and all that)

There have been minor controversies within Dislyte due to how it has treated it's dark-skinned characters.

One such instance was when the Amunet - Bloody Hunt trailer was released, featuring imagery that many considered racist:

(on the left - the original trailer; right - re-uploaded version)

The other instance included characters having their skin tone made lighter than originally depicted. The most famous example being Ahmed:

I distinctly recall an advertisement doing the same to Asenath, but I cannot find it anymore, so you'll just have to take my word for it

2024/03/25

this has been answered in a previous ask and I kinda don't really wanna repeat all of that, so I recommend checking out an earlier post of mine if you're still curious!

Thank you for giving me the opportunity to talk about this game some more <333 And yeah! Icebergs are a really fun way to present a bunch of scattered information in an engaging manner, and it's always fun to see how deep your knowledge of a topic goes :3

[centurieslove]

Three days passed.

Nothing changed. Merlin felt trapped in a nightmare, the motions propelling him through his duties whilst his mind swam, heart clenched tight in his chest. He didn’t feel like he knew how to stop, if he did- he had an awful feeling that everything would crash down around his shoulders, so, naturally he threw himself into every menial task he could get his hands on. Arthur’s chambers had never been cleaner. His hands felt dry and sore, the skin cracking from the constant saturation in soapy water, whilst his nails were collecting little half moons of black from the polish and the dirt. Not just Arthur's armour, but the whole armoury had been seen to, cleaned and reorganised, swords sharped and metal links polished. Bodies of colour flowed past him as he meandered through corridors, between his various chores, blurry, his steps dragging and autonomous. By the third day, he’d started on Gaius’s shelving too, and spent the whole day pottering about the edges of the room, peering over his shoulder at the body laid on the pallet, when he felt like he could stand it no longer. He felt pulled in two; he was consumed with fear whenever he couldn’t watch over Mordred - yet being in the same room was unbearable. His skin felt stretched tight across his forearms, tingling, his stomach heavy each night as he approached Gaius’ chambers. He didn’t sleep the first night. Instead, he sat numbly on his own bed, fists clenched in his lap, blinking his eyes as they stung, staring through the wall at where he knew Mordred lay. Each hour that had passed, with his stomach shrinking in on itself, Merlin’s nerves grew: he felt on a precipice, breath held, waiting for the rustle of movement, the exclamations, the calling for the King, Gaius’s low timbre as he coaxed water down a parched and unused throat.

But Mordred hadn’t woken.

Merlin had spoke to Gaius, the first day. The old man offered his same tired platitudes, stressing that Arthur needed to make his own decisions- but Merlin had turned away. It wouldn’t be so. Not when those decisions would lead directly to his death.

Mordred hadn’t woken the second day, either.

Merlin rolled his shoulders. The midday sun illuminated the corridor before him, and he let his eyes fall out of focus. He’d barely seen Arthur: each dawn, the king already been up and dressed, dismissing him with a list of chores, sending him away seemingly without a thought. Merlin had noticed the pile of papers and scrolls grow on the king’s desk, noticed the empty goblets left on his side tables, noticed the swipe of mauve under Arthur’s eyes. They didn’t speak more than necessary. Merlin didn’t ask. Whilst the rest of his world was smudged, Arthur shone out, the creases on his forehead rendered in such high a quality it almost hurt to gaze upon. But Merlin didn’t look away. The short, curt interactions, Your breakfast, sire, when he sat it on the table; Will that be all?, taking the hot plates from under the sheets; The council is ready, sire, when Arthur was still gazing out the window. Thank you, no, that's fine, you can take this, air that room, you're dismissed, that's all, light a fire, would you, I don't need…send for… Just a few short words between them and Merlin's whole world would sharpen into painful focus: but then Arthur would turn back to the window and it would dissolve again and Merlin would take the laundry away and Arthur would leave for council and Merlin would excuse himself quietly and Arthur would leave for training and Merlin would leave for the kitchens and Arthur would leave and Arthur would leave-

The ache in his arms, his shoulders, deepened, pressing debilitating loneliness even further into his bones. For one impossible moment, Arthur had opened himself up to magic. Merlin hadn't even had to chance to revel in it. With every second he protected the king, he pushed him further away, and his frustration grew; boiling away under his skin at the fates designing it this way. He- he couldn't protect him. He wouldn’t stop trying. He could keep Arthur alive, or he could keep his trust. He was going to have to accept that those were mutually exclusive.

His steps were slow and heavy down the hall, the whole castle seemed on bated breath - but with each corner he took his heart would lurch, in his mind’s eye Mordred came striding confidently towards him.

The castle felt eerily quiet. The halls were empty, cold and unassuming. The dust in the air had even stilled.

Merlin swallowed, his throat had been dry for days. He arrived outside the entrance to Gaius’s chambers, readying himself for another evening wearing a hole in his bedroom floor where he paced. His stomach no longer protested at the lack of food, shrunken and expecting little substance. He regretted not taking the opportunity to smuggle away the abandoned remains of Arthur’s breakfast; of which there was more and more left on his plate, ever since they’d arrived back at the citadel. Maybe he could still-

Merlin stopped short, murmurs of noise greeting him, a varying cadence of voices from behind the physicians door, with one voice in particular rising in crescendo.

"- don't understand it!"

Arthur. He didn't sound calm.

Merlin approached the door with trepidation, swallowed, then pushed it open.

Arthur, deep blue tunic bright amongst the dusty browns of Gaius’s chambers, broad shoulders heaving: he was staring at Gaius, face contorted and pained. Gwen’s features were similarly twisted, wringing her hands as she held them in front of her velvet dress.

“What’s…” he began. All three turned their heads sharply towards him.

Gaius hastened a step towards Merlin. Gwen attempted a smile in greeting, but continued to look grey and stricken. Arthur threw his gaze aside almost immediately. Merlin glanced between them all, eyes falling on to the bed where a body lay motionless, someone pale, young, with dark curls resting just in view.

Merlin felt weak, like he might throw up.

Mordred.

“Gaius,” Arthur said lowly, his voice hoarse. Merlin’s gazed dropped to where Arthur’s fists were clenching white by his sides, Gwen’s hands reaching out to gently touch his forearm. “Are you certain?”

Merlin looked at the old man, watched his face tighten with grim displeasure.

“I’m afraid so, sire.”

Arthur started pacing. Merlin could see the anger rising in his face, screwed up and confused.

“Can someone please tell me what’s going on?” he finally blurted out.

Gwen sighed, pulling Arthur round into her arms to stop his restless pace.

Gaius threw Merlin an inscrutable look, then started hesitantly, approaching the topic again like one would a wild beast. “He’s not showing any signs of recovery. His condition has not improved… it is my belief-”

Arthur grunted.

“- my belief, that he will not last the night.”

Merlin, stricken, said not a word.

“It was all for nothing,” Arthur grit out. Merlin stared at him. His eyes were wild with anger, searching for blame as if it was a beast he could slay, whilst Gwen, with endless patience, ran her hand down his arm. He turned, agitated, leant against Gaius’s workbench and hung his head.

“Arthur,” Merlin started.

He glared up at Merlin across the room. As if he’d caused it, as if Merlin had doomed Mordred himself - but, but, he hadn’t. Despite his desperate efforts. This… this was meant to be another failure.

Yet: Mordred was still dying, and Merlin, still failing.

"My lord," Gaius sighed. "You need rest." He stepped towards the king, but Arthur just shook his head resoundingly.

"I don't need rest, I need a damned explanation,” he demanded. "He is supposed to be recovering. He-” Arthur’s voice wavered. “That was the deal.”

He should have woke up. Merlin blinked, gaze desperately turning to Gaius, who’s grim expression gave little away. "It doesn't make any sense." he said, almost a whisper.

Cruel jokes were being played on him. He looked back to the bed. He half expected the young knight to jump up and embrace them all, revealing the entire thing to be but an elaborate charade. Yet, Mordred's lifeless form remained lifeless. Merlin felt anything but glad.

"His wounds were severe," Gwen said slowly, approaching the pallet. Her face was pained, and Merlin wondered who else she saw there lying, pale, on their death bed. "Perhaps they could do no more to save him."

Arthur's face was stricken in grief and despair, shoulders still shaking. Merlin’s head was ringing, his mouth dry and his throat sore from the bile, thoughts rushing fast to keep up with the events unfolding before him.

He thought of the three hooded figures, a misty cave, dark dripping around their shoulders. Releasing this judgement, holding Arthur to a promise that would - ultimately - doom him.

"They could have.”

Arthur glared at Merlin as he spoke up. Merlin blinked, realising he'd said it louder than he meant.

"What?" Arthur spat.

Merlin's eyes glazed over as he stared at the body on the bed then gave a slight shrug of his shoulder. "Triple Goddess," he muttered, as if that explained it. "They could have. Saved him. If they really wanted to."

The room fell silent.

Arthur started suddenly, giving Gwen's hands a firm squeeze and headed towards the door.

He spun round at the last second. “Send word if there is any change.” The King’s face was tight as he addressed his physician, who nodded, then Arthur stormed out of the quarters. Gwen sighed.

“If there is anything I can do—” she began.

“I will let you know, my Lady.” Gaius spoke softly.

Gwen smiled, small but steady. She rubbed Merlin’s arm and gave a small squeeze as she passed him, but Merlin could barely respond to return the smile. He felt his heartbeat follow the footfall until they were unable to be heard. His heavy breath suddenly felt so loud in the absence of Arthur’s rage and the silence left in Gaius’s chambers. He collapsed onto the bench.

“I—”

He couldn't speak.

Gaius slowly walked over and took his seat opposite, where the two of them sat for what seemed like hours.

Finally-

“He should be alive,” Merlin muttered. “He should be alive.”

Gaius crossed his arms.

“You're not happy?”

Merlin looked up in surprise.

“What?”

“Did you not want him to die?” Gaius's face betrayed nothing.

He furrowed his brow. “No. I mean—”

“You refused to heal him.”

“Yes, but—”

“Well, then.” Gaius stated, rising slowly from the bench. “You should be grateful that Arthur failed.”

Merlin grit his teeth. His eyes were burning again. This wasn't it, this wasn't- it wasn't supposed to…he never would have guessed that Arthur would have made that choice.

“Gaius, you don't underst—”

Gaius swung round, snapped at him. “No, Merlin, you're right. I don't understand.” The old man's eyes were alight, fiery as he shouted, but then something grey passed over them like a curtain being drawn and his whole demeanor shrunk back again.

“I'll leave you to celebrate your success,” he said quietly. And walked past Merlin and out the door.

more samples

[star-rie]

when your servant is a little shite

-----------------------

Then Merlin looks at Gaius, who’s sitting there, eyeing him as if he knows what Merlin is going to do.

‘Merlin, no’

‘Merlin yes’

or

Merlin tests the limits of Arthur’s patience.

-----------------------

alternatively, ao3 link

original prompt

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4 (you're here), PART 5, PART 6

-----------------------

Arthur is waiting for a trial.

Earlier that day, a woman had come crying at the castle gate. Begging an audience with the king. She brought her son’s corpse, blaming it on her neighbor.

He cried innocence when the guards dragged him from his home into Camelot’s cell. And so here they are, in the throne room, airtight, waiting for their trial.

Merlin knows the truth; of course he does; he did his own investigation behind Arthur’s back. He sort of had a plan for how this trial would play out, and he hoped he could execute it.

“What’s taking them so long?” Arthur asks from his throne, and Merlin shrugs.

Arthur sighs, staring intently at the door. Five minutes later, they hadn't arrived yet. “Did we get the time right?”

“Yes, twelve on the dot sire, they’re late." Merlin said

It’s not an unusual occurrence; there was that one time they had to cancel a trial because the witness didn’t show up. They were later found dead in the forest.

Arthur stands and says, “I’m going to look for them.”

Merlin immediately stops him, sitting him down on his throne. “My Lord, you must remember, patience is key.”

“What use does the key have if the problem isn’t here yet?”

Right, that was a bad analogy. But Arthur can’t go outside because, well, let’s just say Merlin prepared something that he didn’t want Arthur to see. Merlin starts to think of ways to keep Arthur in place.

They’ll come eventually, Merlin is confident. But for how long, he’s not sure.

Merlin looks at the door, still tightly shut. Hm. And then he looks at Arthur and the empty throne beside him.

Oh.

Well, Merlin had been wanting to test this theory for a while, but he couldn’t do so without looking absolutely disrespectful and rude. And truthfully, he still feels embarrassed about the stunt he pulled at the second annual economics conference.

But seeing Sir Lunard and his friend’s faces after the conference brings him joys he cannot describe. They’re here too, in the corner of the room, probably gossiping about Merlin again. I can’t blame them.

Merlin looks at the empty throne again. Mulling over his choices. Well, this might be rude and disrespectful, but at least it kept Arthur sitting.

So Merlin pats Arthur’s shoulder, giving him what hopefully is a reassuring smile before he goes to sit on the Queen’s chair. If the court wasn’t looking at them, they’re staring now.

Merlin could already feel another round of lecturing tonight from the old man across the room.

“Merlin, what are you doing?” Arthur asks for the third time that week.

“I am sitting, sir, because my legs are tired." that was the same excuse as last time. “And I want to see if what you said about the chair being as hard as ‘Gwen's flooring back when I disguised myself as a peasant’ is true.”

Arthur's face gapes like a fish, trying to make sense of what’s happening, but before he could argue, the group came in, the mother and a man, accompanied by a set of guards.

The mother was hysterical, and the man was pale. Meanwhile, the guards are silently questioning Merlin’s position on the queen's throne. It would have been funny if not for the dead baby on the floor.

“My son, my poor son,” she cried loudly, sniffing into her cloth.

“I didn’t do it!” The man cried and did not question why there are two men sitting on the throne when there’s supposed to be one king.

“Now let’s just be calm." Arthur was caught off guard by the mother’s wail, holding her son’s body close to her chest.

“This rascal snuck into my house to steal my gold, and he killed my son! How could you do this? He’s only a baby!”

“I didn’t do it! I swear it's my mother’s name!” he begs, kneeling on the floor. “You have to believe me, your majesty, this woman is framing me!”

“How could you say such cruel things? The proof is there!”

“It’s not proof! It’s all lies!!” He said, gripping his hair so hard it might fall off his scalp. "Please, your majesty!”

“My son, your highness! My son is dead!”

“She’s lying, your highness!”

“Don’t believe anything that came out of this thief’s mouth.“

"Stop,” Arthur said, silencing them. Arthur massages his temple, thinking for a while, before he turns to look at Merlin. “What do you think?”

Merlin, having already figured everything out, said to him, "Well, for starters, Gaius, do you mind analyzing the cause of death?”

“Isn’t it clear? He gutted his throat! It’s all there to see!” she said

“It’s true, sir." Elyan said, presenting a bloody hatchet. “This was found at the man’s home.”

The court whispers loudly at this new revelation. Merlin leans on his hand. “Then I assumed you would have no problem if the court physician were to check his body.”

“Search all you want, you won’t find anything,” she laughs. Merlin nods at her, and Gaius goes to check on the baby. It took a few minutes before Gaius widened his eyes, obviously faking his surprise. “Why, he’s been poisoned.”

The mother stiffens. The court gasped, whispering loudly, “What type of Gaius?” Merlin asks him

“From the symptoms, I think it might be hemlock.”

“Interesting, thank you, Gaius.”

Gaius stands, and then starts to stare at him. 'Merlin, why are you sitting on the Queen’s throne? This is ridiculous even for you; get off there right now!’

Merlin nods, dismissing him, ‘No.

Gaius sighs, nodding before going back to the audience.

Merlin continues to address the court. “That’s an interesting revelation, but that certainly doesn’t prove anything. Sir Elyan, did you find any sort of potion while you were searching the thief’s house?”

"No, we did not,” he answers, connecting the pieces.

“I see. Now, may you please call Sir Leon and Lady Guinevere for me. They’re waiting outside.” Elyan nods, going outside to fetch them. Arthur immediately turns to him in disbelief, and Merlin shrugs, smiling.

Leon and Gwen both came in with a woman. Befuddled at Merlin’s position, but their faces turned grim once they saw the baby on the floor.

“We were called?” Leon asked

"Yes, Sir Leon, may you please introduce this woman to the court?” Merlin gestures to the woman beside him.

Leon nods. “Ladies and gentlemen, this is the shopkeeper at the edge of town; she has something she wants to say,” Leon said, giving an encouraging nod to her.

She sighs, uncertain, looking at Merlin before she eventually says, “It was two nights ago... I usually don’t sell potions, but I encounter them on my journey. So as a shopkeeper, I keep it at the edge of my shelf. No one bought it for months, until... She looks at the mother and sighs.

“I shouldn’t have kept it; I shouldn’t even have sold it, but I did remember this woman coming to my shop late at night, as for the man, I never saw him in my life.”

“You liar!” She screams, launching at her, and the guards hold her down.

Merlin, completely dismissing her, continues to ask her, “And did she buy the potion?”

She was silent, looking at the woman in front of her, and then at the dead child, before eventually saying, "Yes,”

“Does the bottle that you sell have some sort of writing on it?” Merlin continues

“I remember it saying ‘hemlock’” She said she was unsure. The court is wild, whispers turn into full-on conversations.

“But I’m not sure; I could be wrong,“ she says as Arthur raises his hand to silence the court.

“No, it’s alright, miss; that's very useful information. Thank you; that’s very brave of you,” Merlin said, approving her.

“Now, I want everyone to take a look at this. Lady Guinevere, would you mind telling the court what you’re holding?”

She stepped forward, holding a clothed object. “I found this at her home. Everyone is so focused on the man’s house, so I searched at the mother’s house instead. I thought that we could find some new insights and this is what I found.” She said, showing an empty bottle with the word ‘hemlock’ written on it.

The mother has gone pale. “But—“

“I rest my case your honor” he said to Arthur, gesturing for the guards to hold her down, stopping her from attacking them

Then, Merlin turns to Arthur, who’s staring at him, too stunned to do anything. “What Merlin?”

“The verdict”

“Oh yes! The verdict!” Arthur said, standing in front of them. Merlin followed immediately.

“By the court of Camelot, you are found guilty of murder; does anyone have any objections?”

Everyone stayed silent, shaking their heads.

“I object! The king framed me!” She says this, pointing at Merlin.

"Um, no, I’m the King. He’s my…” He looks at Merlin. "He's, uh, he's—according to the laws of Camelot, you are sentenced to death.”

“WHAT?” She yelled at him as the guards dragged her away, cursing King Arthur’s and his lineage to come.

“Thank you, thank you so much, King Arthur. I am forever indebted to you!” The man thanked him, bowing at Merlin.

"Wait, no, no, I’m not—“

“I shall train and join your knight's sire! I realize now that it is my duty to protect you! Please wait for me, my king!" He said, grasping Merlin’s hand before bowing at Arthur. “Sir!”

But before they could say anything, he had already run off, probably to share his wonderful tale of King Arthur.

"He's never seen you before, hasn’t he?”

"No,” Arthur said, pursing his lips and staring into him. And it was at this moment that Merlin just remembered that he had been sitting on the queen’s throne for an indefinite amount of time, probably just insulting Arthur’s mom, his future wife, and his whole ancestry.

Merlin waited nervously before Arthur said, “Thank you, Merlin,” and walked off to brief the guards, like nothing had happened.

It seems like the court appreciation for Merlin has gone up, they no longer scowl when they meet him.

The next time they hold a trial, Arthur insists that he sits at the Queen’s throne.

“You’re the jury at this point; I might as well give you a special seat,” he said when Merlin told him the whole notion was ridiculous.

[mysticsublimeperson]

NUMB pt2

(pt1)

Arthur had noticed something, he didn't quite understand what exactly, and that was frustrating.

Then Merlin cancelled the only date night the had been able to schedule in a month, because of the difference in their work hours, and Merlin spended less and less time with him at work...

So ditching him to go to a club?

Yeah... Arthur was pissed.

But then, "They have notice that I 've been absent, unless you want me to explain where do I spend my free time lately, I better go with them to get them off my back. We wouldn't want anybody knowing your secret right?"

And damn if that didn't hurt.

He knew Merlin wasn't really happy with the arrangement, he knew that he had been crossing the line lately. Going off at work, mostly to throw people off the track, but also to let out some of his frustration. But what could he do?

It was impossible to continue with his life as it was, and have Merlin. He would loose everything, his job, his family, his status, probably the flat too... His father was sure to ruin his life if he gave that step.

But for the life of him, he could not let Merlin go. He will never let him go willingly. Merlin was the happiest he had been in his life. Waking up next to him, he felt at peace, felt understood, felt seen. The way Merlin looked at him, like he meant something extraordinary, made him feel complete.

But then the little doubt creep in, What would happen if Merlin grew tired of this baggage?

No.

What will happen when Merlin grow tired of this situation?

Arthur felt his chest heavy with guilt. It was bound to happen, he knew that, he, himself, had made sure of it. He had enough scape routes in case everything went south, but now he found that Merlin could also use them, and that thought was the scariest of them all.

Merlin went radio silent after that call, and Arthur understood.

Then the next day he could not find him at the company, which was strange but maybe he was avoiding him, and Arthur understood.

He didn't answered any of his calls, or texts, and Arthur understood.

The dread expanding in his belly.

The following day he went to work with a heavy step and a heavier heart.

He knew that this whole circus was his fault, and therefore he had no right to complain or demand anything of Merlin, but that didn't make him feel better.

Merlin was still gone, so he went looking for him. And then Gaius told him that Merlin hadn't gone to work, he was sick, apparently. Gaius didn't know what exact illness but ... "he has been off lately, distant, cold, sad. And with all due respect, that you are keen on humiliating him on public lately hadn't really helped. I imagine it has to do with that. He didn't explain further, just told me he was going on sick leave"

Gaius spoke clearly, and with every word Arthur felt more shame. That dressing down was something he didn't know he needed.

Had he been so awful towards Merlin? Truly?

He bolted, didn't even told anyone, just went.

Went to his flat, and banged on his door, and called his name until the neighbors threatened to call the police.

It was useless.

The last time he spoke to him, he was going to go clubbing with his friends. He knew most of Merlins friends, basically because they were also Arthur's friends. But those friends... he knew them yeah, but he wasn't precisely close, Will, proper hated him, and the girl, Freya, was apprehensive around him, he didn't know why, but he hadn't particularly care up until that moment, he did not have any way of contacting them, not their number saved, not their social media profiles, nothing.

Shit.

The only thing he could remember was where Freya used to work, because Merlin had insisted on buying his coffee there for months just to spend his break catching up with her, at least until they happened.

He went there, his only clue, praying for the girl to be there.

He wasn't lucky, she didn't even had a shift that day. But he had obtained a contact info. He texted her.

And she answered vaguely, not understanding why Merlin's boss was asking for that kind of information. He didn't get much, but the fact that that whole ordeal was orchestrated by Gwaine.

So he went to Gwaine.

He was still hungover, or, more accurately, hungover again. And told him reluctantly that he had tried to get Merlin to relax, because he had been upset as of late. Arthur really ought to pay better attention, everyone had noticed this change in Merlin's behavior, so probably Merlin had been dealing with the burnt of having to lying to everyone.

"We just wanted him to unwind, It was fine... at least I hope so" Arthur's heart stopped at that very moment "What do you mean?" Gwaine was completely unaffected by his murderous tone and stare, and reentered his home trailed by Arthur "I don't know mate, he was having fun, he had been talking to this bloke on the floor, the seemed to have hit it off quite well... that was the last time I saw him, when we didn't heard from him in the morning, well we assumed he'd gotten laid, at least he had fun, but yesterday he told us that It didn't went well, but didn't explain" As he spoke his voice lost it's strength, and the insecurity he must have felt since that message was brought to the surface.

Arthur wanted to scream, to accuse, to point, to break, to do everything at the same time, but how could he? He stopped himself just before he started a shouting match with Gwaine, who was lost in thought in the sofa, because Gwaine was his friend too, and if he had known he wouldn't have done any of that.

His eyes started to sting from the sheer frustration.

Fact 1: Merlin's friends had taken him to a club, so he could cheat on Arthur, not that they knew that.

Fact 2: Merlin had gotten drunk, danced and left the club with another man, Arthur could not grasp how he felt about that just yet.

Fact 3: something went WRONG. WHAT THE HELL WENT WRONG AND WHERE WAS MERLIN? BECAUSE...

Fact 4: Merlin hadn't gone to work in two days, and no one knew where or how he was and the worry in his chest was clouding his mind and shit, he was crying.

He wiped his face quickly with the back of his hand, but couldn't hold back anymore so he struggled a bit saying goodbye to Gwaine and got out of there, didn't listen to whatever Gwaine was saying in the background.

He couldn't tell you how did he find Merlin, just that it was probably illegal and highly unadvised. But by that afternoon he was in front of that hospital door, with mixed feelings, a lot of guilt and one thought.

Hunith opened the door, Hunith was there. His gut twisted in different uncomfortable directions.

"Hunith?"

"Arthur? What are you doing here? Wait, let's talk outside, he finally managed to sleep for a bit" His throat closed off.

"I..He didn't show up at work" It was all he could manage, he could see her eyes harden.

"Yes, well, I am sure you can see he is in no condition to do so, now if you would kindly leave"

"Hunith" he was trembling "Can I see him?" he saw her hesitate.

"He doesn't want to see anyone" she ultimately answered a bit softer.

"What happened?"

"It's not my place to tell Arthur, I need to respect his decision, now more than ever" she said with finality "Look, I'll call you when he changes his mind.."

"IF.. if he changes his mind, you know how he is" he protested "Hunith I just..." he had to stop, before his voice broke "I need to know how he is, I need to see that he is ok"

"I know you are his friend Arthur" Arthur could hear his heart shatter "But this is... He is not ok" she said looking directly at him "He doesn't want to be seen like that, he doesn't want to be judged or pitied. He needs someone by his side right now, someone who would just be there with him, loving him, truly, boldly, despite everything else" Hunith broke down a bit and ran a hand by her hair, talking to him and to herself also "Don't get me wrong Arthur, I know you care for my son, you are a true friend, but you are not what he needs right now. I know the teasing and bantering is your... style, but I am afraid he cannot handle that. I'll call you if he changes his mind, but if not, please do respect his wishes"

She turned around visibly affected and went back into the room. Meanwhile Arthur had his world shaken to the ground.