#Lancelot: alright then let’s go to gaius Merlin

[lalluviadeanoche]

Merlin *on four hrs of sleep for the past week, dirty from a fight, definitely has a concussion and at least two untreated injuries, one of which he’s bleeding out from, leans over on someone’s shoulder*: Arthur has no idea I have magic!

Arthur *still blushing from Merlin leaning on him and is now very confused w his emotions*: YOU HAVE MAGIC?!

Merlin: oh… sorry.

Merlin *moves to Lancelot’s shoulder*: Arthur has no idea I have magic!

Arthur: I can still hear you!! You’re right next to me and you’re yelling!!

The knights:… you didn’t know??

[larluce]

Arthur thinks Merlin was raped (but he wasn't)

This is kind of a prequel to this post, click here if you want more context -> LINK

Tagging @cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu , @odinjm , @hssmaureader , @daniella0 , @stressed-but-chill , @smileytrinity

When Arthur finds Merlin in the woods after being lost for 3 weeks, he feels so much joy. He doesn't remember feeling so much joy in his life. Merlin is dirty, his clothes riped and with dry blood, but alive. And that’s all he cares right now.

Arthur: (more than happy and relieved) Merlin! I thought we lost you (goes to him to give him a hug, thinking) That I lost you.

Merlin: (Backs away quickly before Arthur can hug him, wide eye and terrified)

Arthur: (confused) Merlin?

Gwain: Merls, it's us, relax (extends a hand)

Merlin: (shakes his head, frantic, and goes limping to hide behind a tree)

Lancelot: (worried) Merlin... (aproaches carefully) Merlin, it's okay. You're safe now (extends his hand, gently, with a reassuring smile).

Merlin: (shakes his head again and tries to say something but he can't, so he whimpers quietly)

Lancelot: No touching, alright. (Lifts his hands in surrender) No one is going to touch you.

Arthur: (approaches as carefully as Lancelot did) Do you recognise us? (Thinking, begging) Please, say you do.

Merlin: (Nods and tries to speak again, but closes his mouth, frustrated)

Arthur: (realises, heartbroken) You can't speak.

Arthur and the knights can only imagine the horrors Merlin endured. It's obvious he was tortured but they didn't know how much of his new behaviour is result of physical damage or trauma. For example, is Merlin too traumatized to speak or is he physically unable? Did his tortures cut his tonge? Damaged his vocal chords? And what the hell have they done to Merlin to make him so afraid of human touch?

With a lot of reassuring and patience, they manage to bring Merlin back to Camelot. It was difficult not to touch him when he kept limping and falling. And Merlin refused to use a horse for some reason, no matter how much they insisted, so they had to get a cart to transport him. When they finally arrive, they bring him to Gaius immediately so the physician can check him, but Merlin doesn't let him touch him either and he locks himself in his room. It takes days for Gaius to have a formal diagnosis for the king.

Gaius: (reports painfully) He was starved, beaten, cut, whiped and burned several times for what I could see.

Arthur: For what you could see?

Gaius: He wouldn't let me see all the wounds (sighs). He was also immobilized with chains by the wrists, ankles and neck. He must have struggled a lot because the marks of the chains are actually worse than the torture itself.

Arthur: (his heart aching for Merlin and burning in fury for the bastards who did this, composes himself just enough to ask again) His voice... did they...did they cut his-

Gaius: No, sire. He's physically able to talk He's just too traumatized to do it. It might take a while for him to talk again.

Arthur: (sighs releaved, but still fill with sorrow) Why? Why would they do this to him? Merlin never hurt anyone, who would want to- (stops when he sees Gaius apprehensive expression) You know something.

Gaius: (hesitantly) Merlin can't speak but he can still write, sire. He... he managed to write me some things.

Arthur: (raises his voice, angry) And you tell me this now?! What did he write?

Gaius: ...

Arthur: (demands) Gaius, I order you to tell me.

Gaius: (sighs) Apparently the bandits that captured him wanted... information sire. To know all the weak spots of the castle... and everything related to you.

Arthur: (open his eyes wide, horrified and devastated, and sinks in a nearby chair) No...

Gaius: He didn't say a thing, sire. You don't have anything to wo-

Arthur: (explodes) I know he didn't! That idiot! He should have told them everything! I wouldn't have blamed him, but of course he didn't. I whish he had (breaks down and cries) This is all my fault.

Gaius: (comforting him, a hand on Arthur's shoulder) This is no one's fault but theirs. You can't prevent every conspiration, attack or attemp murder directed at you. You're the king. It's expected.

Arthur: I should have protected him better, found him sooner. I should-

Gaius: Dwelling on what if scenarios won't help you. And it definitely won't help Merlin. What he needs now is for you to be there for him, be strong for him

So Arthur does just that. When Merlin keeps locking himself in his room and refuses to leave, Arthur visits him at the door and slide pieces of paper through the door crack so Merlin can write the words he can't speak and they can have a small talk at least once a day. Arthur can hear things being thrown and broken constantly and, the first days, Merlin doesn't even pick up the paper. When Merlin finally does, the paper is returned with a short messages along the lines of "Go away", "Leave me alone" to which Arthur reponds firmly he won't, he never will, every single time. Then Merlin's messages turn longer little by little and Arthur's one sided conversations with the door are over.

The day Merlin finally leaves his room and resumes his duties is a blessing as much as it is a curse. Arthur is glad and greatful at Merlin's progress, but seeing him doing his chores silently, just noding or shaking his head when asked something, and without sharing a single smile is painful. Merlin still doesn't let anyone touch him, which everyone respects, but is specially difficult for Arthur since, he realises, he used to manhandle his manservant a lot. They still comunicate through papers when necessary, but is just not the same.

A particular day Merlin almost falls down the stairs and Arthur, forgetting his manservant boundaries for a second, catches him in reflex.

Merlin: (separates from Arthur in full panic mode, screaming) NO!

Arthur: I'm so sorry, Merlin! I didn't mean-wait (open his eyes wide in surprise) You talked?

Merlin: (unsure, repeats) No? (brings a hand to his mouth in surprise and repeats, fearful) No? (his hand goes to his neck, nervous, as if expecting something bad to happen, but then he smiles brightly and shouts, very excited) No!😃 NO!😄

Arthur: (laughs in excitment, so happy he might cry) Your voice is back! You can talk again! (about to go for a hug)

Merlin: (lifts his hands, warnly) No!😠

Arthur: (lifts his hands too, quickly) Right, sorry. (They both lower their hands at the same time) Ahm... Is 'no' the only word you can say?

Merlin: (shrugs)

Arthur: Come one, try something else.

Merlin: (hesitanly) Ar...thur?

Arthur: See? You can talk.

Merlin: (smiles softly, and says fondly) Arthur. (tries to say something more elaborated, but in the end only manages to say again) Arthur. (Purses his lips, frustrated)

Arthur: (smiles at him fondly) One word at a time, don't force yourself. I can't believe I'm saying this, but it's good to hear your annoying voice again. (thinking) And hearing you saying my name and smiling. How much I missed that smile.

After that, Merlin is able to give short answers. First from 1 to 3 words and later one sentence or two. He's also more expressive now with his features, not as much as he was before, but he makes small frowns and gives small smiles from time to time. Arthur craves those moments. Even if Merlin's face contorts in fury because Arthur tried to exclude him from going on trips with him to protect him, or because Arthur doesn't do things like throwing things at him anymore because he believes Merlin's made of cristal. Arthur can’t help feeling happy because Merlin's face is finally wearing some emotion.

Then comes the day Arthur sees Merlin having a nightmare.

Arthur finds Merlin fallen asleep in his bed. Before Arthur would have get mad, but he knows through Gaius that Merlin hasn’t been sleeping well so he lets him. He starts checking his informs when suddenly he hears Merlin crying for help. Arthur runs to him inmediatly.

Merlin: (begs in his sleep, moving and crying desperatly) No! Anything but that, please.

Arthur: (tries to wake him up without touching him) Merlin, it's just a nightmare. Wake up.

Merlin: (doesn’t wake up and cries more painfully) Please! Hurts too much! Please! Stop!

Arthur: Merlin-

Merlin: Arthur! Arthur, I'm here! Please! Arthur!

Arthur: (shouts) Merlin!

Merlin: (wakes up abruptly and checks desperatly his wrists and neck)

Arthur: (comforting him) You are safe. You are in Camelot. You are safe.

Merlin: (wipes his tears and looks around) I fell asleep in your bed. I'm sorry.

Arthur: (smiles) It’s okay. (Wants to put a comforting hand on his shoulder but restrains himself) You were having a nightmare.

Merlin: I... I don't want to talk about it.

Arthur: Alright. But if you ever want to. Just know that I'm here to listen.

Merlin: (Nods in understanding and sighs) I'll get back to work. (Stands up)

Arthur: (complains, but not really) As you should. Those chores aren’t going to make theirselfs, you know?

Merlin: (smiles a little, cause he knows what Arthur is doing) Right away, sire. (Leaves)

After that, Arthur asks Gaius if he knows what Merlin's dream are about exactly, because it seemed there was a especific type of torture Merlin dreaded the most, but while Gaius seems to know, he refuses to tell him, even when he commands him. "It's not my place to tell" It's all physician says. It bugs Arthur the rest of the day. It's not until Arthur leads a trial of a rape victim that devasting realisation hits him.

That girl, that poor girl acts just like Merlin. Not letting anyone touch her, barely speaking. There are marks on her wrists of ropes the inmobilized her while she was... Just like Merlin's chains. "He must have struggled a lot because the marks of the chains are actually worse than the torture itself" Gaius had said. Merlin's nightmares. Merlin limping when they found him in the wood. Merlin not wanting to ride on a horse.

Arthur's world crushes all over again. His Merlin, his best friend was raped. Arthur can see his knights came to the same conclusion, because of the devasted expression they have when he meets them in private.

Elyan: (still in denial) It can't be... not Merlin.

Leon: It does make sense though. If none other torture seemed to work...

Percival: And Merlin has always had... very delicate features for a man.

Gwaine: Those sick bastards!

Lancelot: (no quiet believing this theory yet because he knows Merlin has magic to defend himself, but he can't share that so he just stays silent) ...

Arthur: (with deadly and serious expression) As soon as we find them, we'll make them pay. For now I want you to keep taking turns in watching over Merlin.

All knights: Yes, sire!

By month 3, Merlin talks almost as frequently as he did before, maybe with less jokes and smiles, but he's getting there. Arthur is glad some of their usual banter is back.

Merlin: (asks, shyly) Arthur? Could you... it's just I want to try something, but... you don't have to if-

Arthur: (throwing whatever he's doing inmediatly) Of course, anything. Just ask.

Merlin: (blushes a little) Could you... give me your hand?

Arthur: (his heart stops with emotion for a moment, but composes himself) Sure (he extends his hand)

Merlin: (slowly but surely joins their palms and smiles. After a moment, he says relieved to himself) Nothing happened.

Arthur: (joyful at feeling Merlin's touch again, but his heart breaking at Merlin's words) Of course nothing happened. I would never hurt you, Merlin.

Merlin: (smiles a little) I know. (Lets go of Arthur’s hand)

Arthur: (missing his touch already) If you need to... you can ask me to help you again, you know? With the whole touching thing.

Merlin: (surprised) Really?

Arthur: (nods) Whenever you want.

Merlin: (smiles a little) Thank you.

And Arthur finds himself craving those moments too. He always waits for Merlin to initiate the touch. Arthur doesn't risk doing it, fearing he could scare Merlin. So he waits. First Merlin just asks to join their hands from time to time. Then, one blessful day, Merlin tell him is okay to touch his arm or his shoulder like Arthur used to do. Arthur does it gently though, enjoying and appreciating it as he never did before. Arthur feels sense of achievement when Merlin stops tensing at his touch completly, at easy with him again.

Gwaine: (while training, sighs) I miss Merlin's hugs.

Lancelot: (sad) Me too. He's making a great progress with touch though. And he smiles more.

Percival: Remember when he asked me if I could carry him in my back?

Elyan: And you said "I could carry you with a single finger!" And then you picked him up (All the knights except for Arthur, laugh)

Arthur: (suddenly very sternly) stop chatting and get back to training.

Gwaine: Relax, princess. We were just talking about all the times Merlin-

Arthur: (raises his voice, mad) I said get back to training!

Leon: (worried) Are you alright, sire?

Arthur: (harshly) I'm fine.

Gwaine: (realising) Wait... you've never hugged Merlin before?

Arthur: ...

Gwaine: (laughing) Oh, gods! That's what it is. You're jealous!

Lancelot: (warns) Gwaine.

Gwaine: What? Is not my fault mister I'm-too-great-to-show-affection didn't get to hug Merlin before.

Leon: (seeing Arthur's increasinly furious face, warns too) Gwaine, stop.

Gwaine: And he doesn't get to be mad at us just because he'll never get to hug him now.

Arthur: (shouts and launches himself at Gwaine and they start fighting)

The rest of the knights: (try to stop them but is useless).

Arthur: (about to throw the finale punch)

Merlin: (enters the training ground and aproaches, confused) Arthur? Gwaine? What's happening?

Arthur: (gets distracted at Merlin's appearance)

Gwaine: (takes advantage and makes Arthur trip)

Arthur: (Ends with his face in a puddle of mud)

Gwaine:... 😨

Elyan:... 😧

Lancelot:...😓

Percival: ...😰

Leon: ...🤦‍♂️

Merlin: (burst out laughing) OMG! Your face! I can't! 🤣😂

All the knights, specially Arthur: (stunned but mostly mesmerised cause Merlin hasn’t laugh, properly laugh since they found him in the woods and they have missed his beautiful laugh so damn much)

Merlin: (wipes his tears of hapiness) Sorry. I'm done now.

Arthur: (Thinking, almost in panic) No, you aren't! (Turns to Gwaine and orders) Gwaine, give me your face.

Gwaine: What-

Arthur: (smashes mud in his face)

Merlin: (starts laughing again, but not as hard as before)

Lancelot: (understanding what Arthur is doing, thinks) Is not enough. (Makes a ball of mud and throws it at Elyan's face)

Elyan: Hey! 😠

Lancelot: (pointing at Merlin) Look!

Merlin: (is laughing harder)

Percival: (shouts) Mud fight! (And everyone starts throwing mud at each other)

Merlin: (still laughing) What are you doing, you idiots! Now I'll have to wash all your armors!

Arthur: Don't be dull, Merlin! Join us!

Merlin: (giggles) You're worst than children, I swear. (shakes his head but joins the fight)

Arthur's finally got his Merlin back and he'll never lose him again.

[witchthewriter]

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐢𝐟 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞.

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!  

Warnings: swearing, some fighting - all in your honour though!

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

After a long day, your s/o decides to take you to a nearby tavern and have a drink. It had been a while since either of you had gotten out without a duty to do. However, your evening was cut short when a drunken asshole insulted you.

𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍

・Merlin would never be able to keep such a big secret from his spouse; he'd want to give every part of himself to you. And so he had. You welcomed the secret with open arms.

・So when you made your way down to the tavern after a particularly challenging day, you were not expecting to be outright insulted.

・The bald fat (toothless) man let the words escape his drunken mouth without the hint of a thought of consequence.

・Big motherfucking mistake.

・A bewildered laugh came from Merlin. His mind already sifting through the many spells he was about to use.

・You looked at him, and simply nodded. This day had been too heavy, and the insult, no matter how untrue, was still hurtful.

・'Out of nowhere' (as some patrons would later explain it), the man flew from his chair and landed in the lap of the burliest man there.

・Strong man was furious and as he looked down, anger rose within him (you could physically see it ... he turned red...)

・Without even lifting a finger, your hater had been punched, and kicked straight out of the tavern. Not before Merlin made him land in a pile of dung.

𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐓

・When your honour is in question Lancelot does not play around.

・As he hears the insult, automatically, his head moves to the left, and he blinks once.

・Without a word he unsheaths his sword and waits for the low life to do the same.

・When the low life doesn't, Lancelot makes someone give him a sword, and drags him outside.

"I'm going to make you think twice before saying such filth."

・And the high pitch ring of steel on steel rang out in the air.

・The whole time your head was in your hands, because truly, you had heard worse. You were tough, and all you wanted to do was get a bit sloshed with your hot ass husband.

・But no, he insisted on fighting for your honour ... like he always does.

・And low and behold, the Knight of Camelot won.

"Are you alright, my love?" Lancelot's lips were pressed against your ear, and you nodded.

"You know you don't have to do that for me-"

"Oh I know," he replies quickly, giving you a half smile. "But you are my spouse. And I will always protect you."

𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐔𝐑

・Scoffs, a smirk on his lips as his eyes narrow on the idiot who insulted you.

"Do you know who I am? Well... I guess not. Someone with a brain would never insult the King nor his Queen/Consort"

・Gasps were heard around the tavern

And the man went as pale as Gaius' hair

"Ah, I see you've figured it out. Thought I might have to spell it for you."

"Oh Arthur," you scolded, bumping his shoulder.

・You had heard it all in your lifetime, and one day you decided that the words of sheep do not affect a tiger.

"What would you like me to do with him, my love? The dungeons? The stocks?"

・You watched as the man quivered. He would have been in his mid-twenties, barely a whisker on his chin.

"Hmmmm," you pretended to think. Your mind already made up. It was a silly little comment, from a silly little boy.

・Arthur knew you too well, his gaze turned stern on the young man. A rusted sword hanging on his hilt. He had begun to shake.

"I think we should leave him be. Maybe he won't let his tongue wag so freely."

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐋

"Excuse me? What was that?"

・Percival instantly shot up from his seat at the table. The candle flickered as he did so, and you reached out to steady it.

"Perci, it's fine, really." You mumbled, not wanting to draw more attention to yourself. But one of the positives of having such a huge husband is that he will win against nearly anyone in a fight.

・Well, most of the time, men are too scared to even fight him.

・As was your insulter.

・Whose bravado slowly diminished as he watched the large Knight loom over him.

"What I- what I meant was-"

"Apologise."

"Sorry, I'm terribly sorry. I didn't mean it!"

"Now leave."

"Yes, yes of course!"

・You were actually impressed by the cowardice of this man. He didn't put up one ounce of a fight. Just followed exactly what Percival said.

"Thank you," you whispered, a smile appearing on your face.

"No. Never thank me. I will always stand up for you."

𝐄𝐋𝐘𝐀𝐍

・A raise of his eyebrow, and a turn of the head. A cold, intimidating demeanour washing over him. Elyan noticed the clean face, shining armour and coat of arms on the man's cloak.

"Say that again. I dare you." His voice was a growl; low and rumbling.

・The man, no, knight, did not shrink or apologise.

"Oh what a match. The marred and the deaf. A great pair-" the knight turned around and laughed with his men.

"Mmm." Elyan looked at the arse like a snake deciding on dinner.

・Your hand itched to grab the dagger at your waist, but Elyan knew you too well.

・Looking at you, he put a hand on your arm and slightly nodded his head. I want to handle this, his eyes said.

・Folding your arms, you took a step back, 'be my guest,' you answered with a smile.

𝐆𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐄

・Aggressive asf

・Doesn't even ask who said it first, he just throws himself at anyone and everyone who laughs

・Absolutely punching and kicking, grabbing heads and banging them together.

・You shake your head but join in, because that's part of the reason Gwaine loves you. You never let him have all the fun.

・And you would never let anyone talk crap about you. Especially to your face. That's not the reputation you wanted to hold.

・But who knew brawls could be romantic? With Gwaine somehow they are...

・Especially when he holds a man down so you can give him a few punches, Gwaine smiling at you.

"That's my girl/that's my guy"

・But it's not like you're allowed into many taverns anymore

・Only when Arthur, the King is there, that you're allowed to enter.

𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍

・Instantly his nose flares, invisible steam streaming from them.

"Apologise. This instant."

"Ooohooo," was the only reply he got. Along with the awful sound of drunk men's laughter. Well, more like coughing and wheezing.

"I'll ask one more time. After that, you'll be on the ground."

・The men barely looked in your husbands direction. Big mistake...

・Leon moved to block your view of what he was about to do.

・Because his word was truth.

・Within a second, the man who insulted you was on the floor, nose broken and bleeding.

・Once he's sorted it out, Leon turns to you and holds out his arm for you to take.

"Are you alright my love?" His concern falls on you and doesn't leave until you're feeling better.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Be Nice

Read on Ao3

Warnings: bullying, teasing, even though they don't mean it.

Pairings: merthur

Word Count: 6181

It shouldn't be a surprise, really, if the knights think punching each other in the arm is a viable and efficient way of cheering each other up, that they also think insulting each other is a perfectly good way to show affection. Insults are compliments, threats are reassurances, and actual bodily harm is considered good manners or at the very least the mark of genuine companionship. Basically, take everything Merlin's ever been taught about how you actually treat the people you care about and flip it on its head, because stars know that if any one of these men actually behave as though being nice won't incinerate them, the world will actually end.

Alright, maybe he's being a bit harsh.

But he's had a long few days saving the entirety of Camelot all by his-own-bloody-self, he's entitled to throw a bit of a fit when he gets shoved too harshly into the side of the stable under the guise of 'friendly greetings.' And it's not like the knights are doing it on purpose—except when they are, which they absolutely do, they have days where it seems like they all passed around a note that says today's one of those days, boys, make Merlin's life a living hell for no reason other than our enjoyment! He swears he's going to invent some kind of spell that lets him know when those days are so he can sit himself in Gaius's chambers and just stay there for all eternity. Or at least until they shake themselves out of it.

And fine, it's not as though he's never known softer kindness from them. Percival shoves and claps and punches, but he's also helped Merlin with the heavier chores and—not that Merlin would ever admit this—carried him when he's overexerted himself to somewhere safer. Elyan is an older brother, and older bother if he commiserates with Gwen, but he's not all bad when he's being protective or complimentary. Gwaine is…Gwaine, which means he commits himself wholeheartedly to whatever he's doing, be that teasing Merlin until his face is about to explode or making sure he's calming down when something really bad happens. Lancelot—listen, the main problem with Lancelot is that he keeps making this sly little face that's all you could stop us, Merlin, you could, but will you? As if he doesn't know damn well that it would go very badly if he actually did do anything. Leon is secretly a menace because he sees everything. And Arthur…

Well. Arthur's Arthur.

Look, the point is that Merlin knows he's being dramatic sometimes, really, he's self-aware enough to admit it, but sometimes…

Sometimes it feels like he's not being dramatic enough.

It's definitely one of those days. One of those days where he walks down to the courtyard with Arthur and all the knights are grinning up at them and he knows, he just knows that today he's going to be teased and pushed around and have pranks and jokes played on him every chance they get. Admittedly, with the amount of courtly stress the kingdom has been under, it's the same reason why they're going on this hunt in the first place; to give them all a break from the pressures of being in the citadel, to let them actually have a chance to relax without worrying about courtesy or diplomacy or any of that nonsense. It makes sense, Merlin's oddly grateful for the chance they have…

He just wishes he weren't about to be the chew toy for it, you see?

It starts almost as soon as they leave the walls of the city behind.

"Merlin," Gwaine calls and Merlin's shoulders immediately tense, "when's the last time you actually caught something on one of these?"

No. No, absolutely not. I am not engaging. "The last hunt we went on was three months ago."

"That's not what he asked," Percival says—oh, he's also starting early, "he asked when you caught something."

"Does a cold count?" Elyan asks and the knights start laughing. Merlin just adjusts his reins and his horse nickers.

"Come on," Gwaine cajoles when the first wave of laughter dies down, "do you want us to show you how it's done?"

"I've tried teaching him since he first arrived," Arthur calls out, "he's utterly useless at it. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he was forgetting everything on purpose."

"Well, with how much he has to remember to keep Princess satisfied, then—" Gwaine grins— "maybe it's a good thing he doesn't know how to hunt."

What does that even mean?

"Don't worry, Merlin," Elyan says with false sympathy as he brings his horse alongside, "we didn't bring you out here because you're good at hunting."

"That's right," Percival agrees, "best thing you can use on a fine hunt is a fine flush hound."

Despite all his instincts that tell him not to feed whatever mood they're in, his curiosity takes over. "What's a flush hound?"

He hears Arthur groan and Elyan snorts, and oddly enough, it's Leon who clears his throat and says: "A flush hound pushes the game out into the open where the hunters can see it."

He opens his mouth to ask why exactly he would be good at that when his horse steps on a rock wrong and he nearly falls off as he crashes into a nearby tree branch, making a wild grab for the saddle as a chorus of birds take off screeching into the sky. A lurch in his stomach and a mortifying yelp accompany the guffawing and cackling of the knights as his horse struggles to right itself and he emerges from the tangle of twigs and leaves with scratches all the way down his cheeks and arms.

"See," Gwaine crows triumphantly, "where else are we going to find a natural talent like that?"

Merlin ducks his head under the guise of making sure his horse is alright, running his hand over her face and neck that he can reach. Her mane rubs coarsely against his fingertips as he tries to swallow the pang of hurt as they keep laughing. His horse nickers back a moment later and he makes himself sit upright.

"Well, then if I'm so good at it," he says, "then it's a wonder you've not had much success over the last few hunts."

"Don't be so sure of yourself," and suddenly there's the familiar condescending voice from Arthur, "just because you've got some natural talent doesn't mean you don't have room for improvement."

"After all, it's as much about making sure you're in the right place as it is about making a fool of yourself."

"And we all know you're excellent at that."

And they're laughing again. Merlin's hands tighten on the reins. Is it just him, or are their barbs a little extra pointed today? Has he done something recently? He doesn't think so; he's just been, oh, saving the kingdom, like usual. Half out of reflex, half out of desperation, he glances over at Lancelot.

Come on, just—give me something. Say something, make a joke at one of them instead.

But no, Lancelot smiles wider and motions for him to turn around. Merlin does—

And almost runs face-first into another tree branch that Arthur 'happened' to pull back to swing in Merlin's direction. He just manages to dodge it, only receiving another swipe to the cheek.

"Careful," Arthur fake-scolds, "I know you're eager to show off, Merlin, but there's a time and a place. Don't know if you remember that about hunting."

"Maybe running into all those tree branches makes it difficult," Elyan suggests, and yes, there they go, laughing again.

It's not that funny.

Luckily or unluckily for Merlin, he's not quite sure which, they actually do find some game to hunt. Or rather, they find something they think they can hunt, and they start to actually behave like men who are on a hunt, not young and rude boys out to poke fun at someone who's supposed to be their friend. Grateful for the reprieve, Merlin quietly steers his horse to the back of the group, where him and his loud, rambunctious self won't be a distraction. Leon passes him one of the spare saddlebags and the reins of his horse, silently sliding off and into a crouched stance. Merlin fastens the reins to his saddle and lets the other horse draw up alongside, patting its neck.

But perhaps he's spoken too soon about them behaving like men rather than boys, because as soon as all the other knights see Leon doing the cool thing of hunting on foot rather than on horseback, they all immediately slide off their horses and start leading them towards Merlin, who is still on a horse and very much does not have the capability to suddenly be in charge of several horses.

"What are you—"

"Shut up, Merlin," Arthur hisses, frowning at him until he slides off his horse too, "now stay here and stay quiet. Now's not the time for you to be flushing anything."

"Don't pout," Gwaine says when Merlin opens his mouth to protest very reasonably, thank you, he is not pouting, "I'm sure you'll get your chance soon enough."

"They're close," Elyan whispers before Merlin can ask just how, exactly, he's supposed to keep all the horses organized and follow them and keep quiet all at once, "I can hear about…three sets of footsteps."

"Deer?"

"Most likely."

"We'll have venison for dinner, then."

Merlin's heart sinks when he realizes just how long of an evening this is going to be.

He gives up fairly quickly—alright, immediately on staying with them. Instead, he and the horses make a very suitable area for themselves in one of the larger clearings. He loosens their saddles and takes the bits from their mouths so they can have a bite to eat. He makes sure to check his horse's hoof; that rock must've hurt quite a bit, better to make sure it isn't stuck in there, after all. The leaves rustle cheerily overhead as a gust of wind blows through. The scent of fresh, clean water comes with it—there must be a river of some sorts nearby. That might be nice for them, some fresh water to drink. Best not stray too far from here, though, not when who knows where the 'hunters' are eventually going to end up.

He sits down near one of the tree trunks and is just on the verge of making himself comfortable when all of a sudden, something crashes out of the brush to his right and he has just enough time to scramble to his feet before the deer falls down dead in front of him.

"Would you look at that," comes Percival's voice from very far away, "it's almost like he knew where it would run."

Merlin can't tear his eyes away from the deer on the ground, not until one of the horses snuffles and nudges his arm. Then he lifts one hand to blindly pat its face and turns to look at the knights who spill triumphantly into the clearing.

"Wonder of wonders," Arthur says, coming up to clap him on the shoulder, "maybe you aren't completely useless after all."

The words lodge in some soft part of Merlin's chest and he clenches his jaw. "You didn't have to kill it."

"It's a hunt, Merlin," Arthur says slowly, as though he's talking to a child, "that's what a hunt is for."

"It wasn't hurting anyone."

"It's a deer," he scoffs, "it's not going to do much of anything except run into things."

"Not true," Gwaine says from where he's already carving the poor thing, "it'll fill our bellies tonight and that is a worthy cause if I've ever heard one."

"You'd consider anything a worthy cause if it got you bread and wine," Lancelot points out and they all start laughing again. The horse snuffles his hand again and he turns away, patting its nose and sparing one more thought for the deer, who at the very least was put out of its misery quickly.

If he thought it would be over when they started to camp for the night, he was terribly and miserably wrong.

First he wasn't moving fast enough. Then he was doing it wrong. Then he wasn't doing enough. Then there were things he kept forgetting. Then they noticed he wasn't talking very much and he was too soft-hearted, mourning for a stupid deer. Arthur's favorite insult of girl's petticoat made an appearance, followed by Gwaine's infamous innuendoes of—oh, who bloody cares, it's not like he's paying much attention at this point.

Maybe it's the fact that they've all not let off steam for too long. Maybe Merlin's been too busy saving Camelot and his tolerance of them has worn low. Maybe they're all in an especially cruel mood today and they don't realize it. Maybe Merlin's just worn himself a little too ragged and this thing that's supposed to be their chance to all relax just isn't how Merlin would choose to do that at all.

Whatever the reason, the armor that Merlin thought he had against the knights has abandoned him. Every word, every look, every laugh hits him like an arrow or a punch, lodging deep in his flesh and hurting. It doesn't matter where he goes, what he does, even when he gives into his cowardly instincts—Arthur's already called him a coward at least half a dozen times in the last ten minutes, he might as well give in and be a coward—and hides behind one of the horses, he still can't escape from it. His body truly starts to ache, starts to flush and burn and he's too hot and he's too cold and he's angry, so angry, because they're hurting him and they don't care, they just don't care.

There comes a point where enough is enough.

"Say, Merlin—" Percival tugs his sleeve a little too hard and Merlin has to steady himself before he falls over— "whoa! Easy!"

"It's a wonder we didn't mistake you for the deer," Elyan jokes, "you're wobbling around like you don't know what your legs are for."

He didn't mean it like this, but Merlin's mind fills with smoke and the sound of blades clashing over a rising chant of burn the sorcerer and he flinches. Hard.

"Be nice to him," Lancelot scolds, and Merlin's heart leaps with hope— "you know fawns are the most skittish of all."

His hands tighten until his knuckles turn white and he sets his jaw, determined to put all the bowls down and sit and actually rest for once. He manages to make it halfway across the campsite and almost to the fire to bend down and—

"Maybe you should train with us a bit more," Percival suggests, "then you could keep up more often."

Merlin doesn't even need to turn around to know that Arthur's sitting up with a fiendish grin on his face.

"Oh, he hasn't told you? I'm surprised, I would've thought they would have by now."

"Told me what?"

Not a damn thing, you prat, now shut the hell up.

"Merlin used to be Princess's training dummy," Gwaine says helpfully, and how the hell does he know about it and he hasn't told Percival? "Used to wear the padding, the helmet, everything but the straw. Bet that suited you better than the armor did, ey, Merlin?"

Merlin doesn't say anything.

"I'd have preferred a proper training dummy," Arthur snorts, and there comes the rustling of leaves as he must lean back, "at least it wouldn't have flinched every time I so much as raised my sword."

I was brand new to Camelot. I'd come to see one of my kind get executed on my first day. You had tried to kill me already and I had saved your life. You swung swords at me and I didn't know what to do.

"But hand to hand, surely," Percival says, "that must have been better?"

"Oh, no, I know this one," Elyan says, and how does he—Gwen. Gwen must have told him— "what was it, three times in as many minutes that he ended up face-first into a cowpie?"

"I can't take credit for all of them—"

"But you will."

"No, no, some credit must go to Merlin for being the clumsiest sod I've ever laid eyes on."

He flinches again and the bowls clatter to the ground.

"See?"

That does it.

Without bothering to pick up the pot, he stoops down and picks up the bowls, fumbling around to free his horse from its tether and walking off. The knights' laughter rings in the trees behind him as he ventures further and further away from the light of the campfire. The wind stings the open cuts on his face and arms. His horse brushes against him. He keeps going, not caring that the shadows start to gather around his feet as they pick their way toward the river.

He remembers those first days. Those days where it felt like Arthur was always on the verge of having him arrested, or having him thrown out for no reason, or something. Where every time he ventured outside it felt like it was punishment for something he'd done, when swords and maces and spears would be flung at him without regard for the fact that he was a living, breathing person with feelings and that he would be hurt, and then he'd go stumbling off to Gaius still hearing the clangs and wobbling from the impact and then Gaius would laugh at him too. Why was everyone always laughing at him?

They laughed at him when Arthur decided that he needed to be trained 'for his own good' too. Never mind that he could do far more impressive things and far more effective things than swing a bloody sword, no, Arthur dressed him up in that stupid bloody armor and had all the knights and squires have a go at him. He'd been pushed to the ground, hit, punched, kicked, pinned, humiliated and every time there was Arthur, either looking incredibly disappointed or trying and failing to hide a smirk. Then he'd tell him to get up so they could go again.

They reach the river.

His horse nickers gently, pulling the lead through Merlin's hands to stretch its neck down for a long drink. Merlin looks at the bowls piled haphazardly in his other hand and slowly sets them down on a nearby rock before he sinks to the ground, wrapping his arms around his knees and setting his chin atop them to watch the water. Some of the last of the sunlight still sparkles off its ripples as it flows downstream.

See? This, this, this is all he wanted. He wanted to go and be in the woods and just breathe. Just watch the water, listen to the sound of the breeze, not to murder some animal that wasn't doing anything and make a loud ruckus and all of that. He didn't want to be surrounded by insults and laughter, he just—he just—

Oh, Merlin realizes faintly as the horse turns to bump its damp nose against his hand, I'm crying.

Of course, as soon as he realizes that, he starts to sniffle in earnest, his nose quickly making a mess of his trousers as his horse snuffles at his hand. He shuffles a little closer, leaning against its side, as it goes back to drinking. He closes his eyes and turns his face into the warmth. He ignores the slight sting against the still-open cuts.

Why had they been so cruel today? Was he—he wasn't that useless and clumsy, was he? He never tries to be, he just—it just happens sometimes, it's not as though he can keep complete control over himself all the time, not when he has to work so hard to constantly keep his magic in and hidden and unseen and it's hard, it's just hard sometimes and it's not fair. It's not fair that they get to prance around and make nuisances of themselves and when he doesn't do anything, they insult him for it. It's not fair that they get to poke fun at him all the time for things that he has no control over. It's not fair that they get to pick the things to do and he just has to go along with it.

And it's especially not fair that they don't notice how much they really, actually hurt him.

Perhaps that's the worst part of all of this, he decides as he sniffles again, it's that he doesn't think they realize how hurtful some of the things they say actually are. He doesn't have the same sort of hurt-people's-feelings-and-get-away-with-it that they do, he doesn't have this I'm-going-to-be-mean-on-purpose instinct. He doesn't have the ability that they all have to trade blows and take it and laugh it off. He spits back at them because he can't do anything else sometimes, and then he's beaten down again. He knows he's not a knight, he knows he's just a servant but they don't—do they have to make him feel like he's less when there's no one else around too?

It hurts. Everything hurts.

Maybe he should just stay here. Here, by the river, where the sunset was soft and golden and the horse was firm and solid and the air smelled slightly sweet, like flowers that had just past their prime. No one would be mean to him here, no one would shame him for being upset, he could cry and it would be alright if he did that. He's been accused of being far more than just clumsy and useless today, after all, he might as well indulge the parts of him they would gladly spear and roast over the campfire.

He flinches at his own metaphor, startling the horse slightly until it rubs its nose against his hand again. He fumbles to pat it carefully in silent apology and it lets out a worried noise, nosing at his head too. He sniffles and lets it nibble his hair, its breath warming the top of his head until it grows bored and goes to drink again. He keeps his hand on its leg, stroking the strong muscle with his fingers. Out of habit, he finds himself picking out little bits of twig and brush, cleaning the worst of the detritus away with quick little motions as the horse shifts its weight back and forth. He finds a slightly rough patch and scruffs at it with his fingernails until the horse's coat is smooth again. It snorts in thanks.

See, he thinks again, what's so bad about this? Why is it so bad to be kind in an uncomplicated way? Why can't you just be kind for the sake of being kind, without having to disguise it?

Should he have swatted the horse and mocked it for its matted coat? Should he have shoved it this way and that in lieu of a proper grooming? Should he have laughed at it when it stumbled and hurt its leg on a rock it couldn't have seen before it was already too late? What purpose did any of that serve? Why would he want to make it seem like he would only hurt the horse when all he wanted to do was be kind?

With a courage he does not feel, he closes his eyes and wraps his arms back around himself, trying to find the scared, hurt horse in his own chest and reach out to it too.

Why are you being unkind to me, that part of him sniffles, why are you hurting me? What did I do to deserve being hurt by you? Why are you taking pleasure in hurting me?

I don't know, says another part, I don't know.

Make it stop. I don't like this, it hurts. You're hurting me. Please, make it stop.

A rock clatters behind him.

In an instant, he whirls around, trying to see what managed to sneak up on him, but in his haste he overbalances and is about to fall into the river—

A hand grabs the front of his tunic, catching him before he drenches himself. Panting, Merlin stares up at Leon, who looks just as surprised as he, his hand still fisted in the thin material of Merlin's front. He raises his other hand, palm open in a signal of sincerity, before he slowly reaches forward and tugs Merlin back to safety.

"Are you alright?"

The fear of falling into the river dwindles, swiftly replaced by a growing anger at being caught off guard again, at almost falling in and needing to be saved, and at himself for not noticing Leon's approach. He twists Leon's hand none-too-gently out of his tunic, setting his jaw and deliberately turning away. "Thanks."

Leon gives a non-committal hum. For a moment, Merlin thinks he's going to leave, or at the very least, do whatever it was that he was going to do when he came here that wasn't cause-and-prevent-Merlin-falling-in-river, but then the still-dirty bowls are being moved further away and Leon is crouching next to him on the bank of the river. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees him take something from a pouch on his belt, remove his gloves and dip something in the river.

When callused hands reach for him, he contemplates pulling away, saying no, even snapping at them—if they're going to insist he's a hound, he'll damn well act like one—but before he can decide what to do, the dry warmth of Leon's hand is turning his chin and then something soft and damp is dabbing over the cuts on his face. With the soft and steady patience that only he has, Leon tends to the open wounds without saying a word, his free hand gentle on Merlin's chin and shoulders to hold him in the right place to reach all of the right places without straining either of them. He keeps his eyes on his hands as he works, the smallest wrinkle between his brows the only indicator that something's upsetting him. Is he upset? Why is he here? Merlin hasn't been gone that long, has he?

The cloth rubs too harshly against one of the cuts and Merlin flinches, a quiet whimper emerging into the still air. Immediately he wants to claw it back into his throat, but Leon doesn't smirk, doesn't tease, doesn't do any of that. Instead he takes the cloth away and leans closer, blowing cool air over the raw and reddened skin until the ache is soothed. The tenderness of the gesture causes tears to spring to the corner of his eyes and to his absolute horror, he sniffles.

Leon pulls the cloth away but his other hand remains, thumb carefully stroking the unblemished skin of Merlin's right cheek. He lays the cloth carefully over one of his gloves before he looks back and uses his other hand to ruffle Merlin's hair just above his ear.

"I'm sorry," he says gently, "I should have realized."

A lump appears in his throat and he does his best to glare. Leon takes it, because he's a stupid kind bastard sometimes and Merlin is weak, and when Leon opens his arms and says come here in the softest, gentlest voice in the world, Merlin doesn't bother to fight it and buries his stupid sniffling nose into the crook of Leon's neck and lets the knight wrap him up in a cuddle, his stupid cape wrapped around him too like a blanket.

"There, now," Leon murmurs, one hand still scratching lightly at his scalp, "there you are…forgive me, Merlin, I didn't realize they were hurting you so much. That we were hurting you so much."

"Why are you so mean to me," he mumbles, half into, half over Leon's shoulder, not caring that he sounds like a child, "why are you always so mean?"

"I don't know," the knight confesses and Merlin just huddles further into his hold. "I'm sorry."

"It hurts, you know, when you all say those things. And when you hit me. And throw things at me."

"I'm sorry."

"Why are you so mean," he sobs, making a fist and weakly hitting Leon's shoulder, "why— why?"

Leon just tightens his grip, turning to bury his own nose in Merlin's hair, and Merlin sobs again. He's being unfair, he knows; Leon isn't the only one to blame in this situation, and in fact, might be the least to blame, but Leon is the only one here and Merlin is angry, angry, so angry.

As if he can hear it, Leon shifts, putting his mouth to Merlin's ear. "Go on, Merlin, it's alright."

"But I don't want to," he grits out, "I don't want to hurt you. I know what that's like, it hurts, it doesn't feel good, I just—you just—I just want it to stop!"

"It'll stop," Leon says immediately, "it's over, now, Merlin, I swear to you. No more of this, I swear."

"It hurts, L-Leon, it—it really hurts."

"Shh, shh, I know, Merlin…hush, now, please, try and breath a bit slower." The knight's chest expands and contracts slowly, exaggerated breaths filling the small clearing. "There…in…and out…in…and out…that's it, shh, just like that."

Slowly, Merlin manages to calm the worst of his anger and tears, the whole mess unspooling as Leon keeps rubbing his back, soft words in his ears. He buries his nose in his neck again. This part, this part of the knights he's never taken for granted, this tenderness that he's only able to get when he's visibly upset. When he manages to voice that thought, Leon goes still for a moment, before a quiet and terrible sigh leaves his lips.

"I have failed, then," he says lowly, "more terribly than I could ever have feared, if you do not know how deeply I care for you."

"W-what?"

Leon pulls back, then, just enough for Merlin to see his face. "You are a dear friend of mine, Merlin, and it is an honor to serve with you. Ever since the day you arrived and saved the Prince's life—hush, shh, none of that, now," he soothes when Merlin panics, "your secret is safe with me, I swear upon my honor and my life. I mean every word that I say, Merlin, you are one of the best men I have ever had the privilege of knowing, and more than that, you are a dear friend. If I have not made that clear to you, that is no one's fault but my own."

"You'll make me cry," Merlin accuses, even though he's already crying.

Leon smiles, but it's a kind smile. "Come, then, shed your tears. I will tend to you."

Well, with an invitation like that, how can Merlin say no?

When he's cried himself out—and made a mess of Leon's cloak, which the man doesn't even let him apologize for—Leon ruffles his hair and takes off his cloak, wrapping it over his shoulders and cleaning the bowls while the horse snuffles at Merlin's shoulders. The cry exhausted the part of him that could protest, and so he watches in the quiet dusk as Leon finishes the last bowl and stands, offering a hand.

"They'll worry," he says softly when Merlin hesitates, "and then they'll all come looking for us together."

He doesn't want that. But neither does he want to lose this, whatever this is, whatever he's found with Leon on the banks of the river. As if he'd spoken the thought out loud, Leon cups his elbow through the cloak, thumb rubbing back and forth until Merlin nods and gets to his feet, going to give Leon his cloak back.

"Keep it, if you want it."

"They'll laugh at me."

"They won't," he says with remarkable confidence, only to acquiesce when Merlin raises a doubtful eyebrow, taking it back. "If you decide you want it again, it's yours."

Part of him wants to take him up on the offer as soon as they start to hear the voices from camp again, to hide underneath it and not have to show his face until next morning, but the horse calls out to its friends and the voices hush. He stops, lingering just out of sight, before Leon rests a hand on his back and silently encourages him forwards. He emerges from the tree line, already bracing himself for whatever comes flying at him, when—

"Oh, sweetheart, what's happened?"

That…that can't be Arthur. That soft voice and worried tone can't be the same man who just delighted in dictating Merlin's humiliation not three hours earlier, it can't be.

"Merlin," the voice says again, and it certainly looks like Arthur scrambling up and over to him, reaching out to cup his face, "oh, you poor thing, look how hurt you are…is this from that tree?"

Merlin nods dumbly and Arthur sweeps his thumb across his cheek. "You've been crying, does it hurt very badly?"

"No."

"You don't have to lie," he chides, but it's gentle, why is it gentle? "You can tell me."

"We've got extra salve," Elyan says, already going for one of the saddlebags, "here, come over by the fire."

"There's another portion still here," Percival adds, "if you're still hungry."

"Give him a moment," Lancelot says, standing too, "he looks a bit overwhelmed."

"Wh-what—" Merlin staggers and Leon and Arthur both surge to catch him— "what's happening?"

"Come sit," Gwaine says, already clearing a spot and shuffling a bedroll close to the fire, "you look like you're about to fall over. Leon can handle the horse and the dishes."

Sure enough, Arthur's hands take Leon's place as he guides Merlin carefully over to the bedroll, sitting him down and immediately taking a position at his elbow. He strokes his thumb over Merlin's jaw as he examines the scratches, before looking back up at him properly.

"What's the matter, sweetheart?"

Merlin still has whiplash from the difference between the knight before he left and the knights now, thank you very much. He swallows around the lump in his throat and mumbles something about being mean and insulting and whatever they're doing now, and Arthur's face crumbles.

"Oh, sweetheart, you know we don't mean it, don't you?"

"We never do," Lancelot says immediately, "it's only supposed to be fun."

"How is being mean to each other fun?"

"Merlin's right," Gwaine says before anyone can try and explain, "it's only fun if everyone's in on it. And Merlin wasn't in on it, that means we stop."

"What happened," Merlin blurts out, "when I left, you were all more than happy to laugh at me being humiliated or otherwise, and now you're all being nice and calling me sweetheart, what happened?"

The campsite grows quiet. He looks around. None of them seem willing to meet his eyes, save for Leon, who just gives him a reassuring nod. He's about to open his mouth and ask again when Arthur speaks.

"I'm sorry, Merlin. I'm so sorry. I didn't—I…I never mean it. I never mean it."

Merlin swallows. "Then why do you do it?"

Arthur shrugs helplessly. "It's…it's what they all do. What we all do."

The knights make vague noises of agreement but Arthur reaches out for him again.

"But we'll stop now. I promise," he says when Merlin looks at him doubtfully, "we'll—we'll put a stop to it. At least between us, and definitely with you. You're Merlin, we never want to hurt you."

"You promise?"

"Yes." Something that could be mischief flickers across his expression and he leans closer. "And I'm the only one who gets to call you sweetheart."

"What happened to being nice?" Merlin yelps as he starts blushing furiously.

"Sorry, sorry, I didn't know it would make you do that."

Merlin closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths to calm himself down. When he opens them again, he sees Arthur staring at him like a worried puppy and he sighs. "You don't…you don't have to stop everything. Just—will you stop if I tell you to?"

"Yes," he says immediately, and the rest of them join in, "of course, the moment you say."

"Thanks." Arthur's hand passes over his shoulders and he grins. "Besides, you were the one who couldn't speak after the barmaid smiled at you."

"Merlin!"

"Wait, Princess did what?"

"You've been holding out on us, Merlin, tell us!"

"Oi! Show some respect for your King!"

"Oh, is that what the barmaids are calling it these days?"

Merlin laughs as Arthur hucks a spoon at Gwaine and Leon comes to sit next to him, offering a warm side to lean against. Perhaps they really are capable of acting nice after all.

[aletterinthenameofsanity]

we will put the lonesome on the shelf (Merthur)

Merthur. Fix-it. Crossposted on ao3.

Merlin falls in love with Arthur. That's clear from even a cursory watch of this show.

So let's talk about this story, about how Merlin falls in love with Arthur and his duty and he calls it destiny but that's not why he stays, because he's terrified by Uther but that doesn't matter.

Merlin falls in love with Arthur because he's kind, and he's brave, and he's honorable, and he may not be Good with a capital 'G' but then again, who is? Merlin falls in love with Arthur because Arthur isn't a saint but he's not a monster, because Arthur is flawed and beautiful in his mistakes.

Merlin falls in love with Camelot because Arthur loves his country and he shows Merlin how to love it too, because a boy with magic sure isn't going to fall in love with the nation that demands he repress what he is or else face death.

Merlin falls in love with the people of this city, cowering and standing and kind and brave and broken. He falls in love with the peasants who trade in the marketplace, the knights who will lay down their lives for Arthur, even the cook who bops him on the head every time he passes.

Merlin falls in love. Let's call it what it is. He falls in love and he can feel his magic protecting a kingdom, a citadel, a King, all in the name of a silly boy who doesn't know just how precious he is to his manservant.

-

But see here's the thing: Arthur's not some oblivious idiot. If he was that much of an idiot, I don't think Merlin would have fallen in love with him.

So Arthur finds out about Merlin’s magic, because of course he does, because Arthur may be a bit thick and stuck up and yes, a clotpole, but he's not an idiot. When he finds out doesn't matter- if he knows from the beginning, if he figures it out when Merlin sends the light after him when he's searching for an antidote, if he witnesses Merlin scrubbing his armor with a levitating rag. That's not important, not to the story of Merlin and Arthur.

Because here's the key part of the story: Arthur doesn't mention it. At least, not at first. Merlin could be executed, after all, and Arthur already cares far too much about the servant who is the only person to disrespect him. He's not going to rat out Merlin to his father.

This is a fairytale, a bedtime story, of a prince falling in love with a servant and that servant falling in love right back. Merlin never gives up on Arthur and Arthur never gives up on Merlin.

But a happy ending is not waiting a thousand years for your lover to return from a watery grave. Arthur doesn't deserve that. Merlin doesn't deserve that.

So Arthur knows about Merlin's magic and his father dies and Arthur turns to Merlin and says, not even attempting any kind of tact because this is Merlin and manners have never mattered, “I know you have magic, and I want your help."

And Merlin will gape at him, because he'd thought he'd kept his magic a secret, and Arthur will sigh.

(Except Merlin's magic is, by this point, the worst kept secret in Camelot. Lancelot and Gaius know. Ealdor knows. Gwaine and Gwen suspect. Mordred and Morgana know. The whole world is aware of how easy it is to have magic and be the King's left-hand man.)

"Alright, then, Arthur," Merlin eventually says. "Tell me how I can help."

And Arthur smiles. -

Merlin is not soft. In no version of this story is he soft. He has killed dozens in the name of Arthur- he knows what it is to hold the power of life in your hands and choose without remorse.

But oh, Arthur is not soft either. No king is. He has led armies into battle, watched soldiers die by his sword.

(Once, years ago, his father told him to attack civilians, and him, in his youth, did just that. And it haunts him.)

“Do you think we're good people?” Arthur will ask Merlin one night, and Merlin will look up from the armor he's shining and be unsure how to answer. What is good? Can killers be good, if they’re working to a good goal?

"I don't know," Merlin will say, and that's the honest answer. "All I know is that I'm trying to be, and I think you are too. And that's good enough."

Arthur will nod. "Thank you."

Merlin will smile that crooked smile that had Arthur falling in love with him, all those years ago. "No problem, you clotpole."

-

So they're both in love and Arthur legalizes magic- because why would he ever keep Merlin's head on the chopping block when he has the power to save him. Merlin becomes Court Sorcerer and the two of them begin the long process of making the kingdom as close to good as they can make it.

And one night, a year since Arthur's father died, Arthur leans in and kisses Merlin, and Merlin kisses him back. Because this is a love story, you know, and these boys don't deserve to pine after each other forever. Let them have their love confession, their dramatic reveal, their kiss.

In the months that follow, Mordred becomes a knight and swears loyalty to his King with a smile on his face; Morgana learns magic without fear of persecution. A sword lies unclaimed in a stone and a girl sleeps at the bottom of a lake. Gwaine, Percival, Lancelot, and Elyan all become knights, and Gwen marries Lancelot in a ceremony attended by her King.

In the end, Merlin and Arthur unite Albion, legalize magic, bring peace to the kingdoms, and it's not because it's their destiny, but because they are too stubborn for their own good. And the world prospers for it.

-

So this is a fairytale, with a King and his Warlock, with a knight and his kingdom. And sure, there is no princess, but there is a Consort and a grand wedding, and Merlin only wears his crown when other monarchs visit, but they are living happily-ever-after.

Arthur and Merlin live, and it may not always be happy, but they're in love and every fight ends up resolved with a kiss and an apology.

One day, the names of Arthur and Merlin will be remembered as Great, and it's not because of a failed battle or a too-late confession. It'll be because these two men may not be Good, but they are trying their best.

And as Merlin says, that's good enough.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17673542

[mintedemrys]

Alright I'm gonna take another swing at the hornet's nest today because fuck it

I'm also going to be slightly amending a belief I've held staunchly since the show freaking aired

I don't think Arthur is 20 in season one.

Think about it. The Great Purge began with Ygraine's death. If we are to believe that Arthur is exactly 20 years old in season one, we must also believe that the entire Purge - from conception to execution to capturing Kilgharrah and all the horrors in between - happens in less than a year.

In 1x01, Uther does not say "It has been 20 years since the Purge began" he says "twenty years since the Great Dragon was captured" meaning that there is an indeterminate amount of time between the start of the Purge (Ygraine's death/Arthur's birth) and Kilgharrah's capture.

So, my new estimate for Arthur's age in season one is twenty-four, prior to the Black Knight episode that names him as "coming of age" and making him Crown Prince, which puts him at 25.

Does that align with the medieval concept of "age of majority"? Probably not, but neither does the costuming, accents, language, or setting of the show, so if they're taking liberties with everything else, we can assume they took liberties here too.

Now, we can adjust what we know of the other main characters going off what we know about the Purge, and Arthur's probable age.

Merlin is likely 19-20 when he comes to Camelot. Reason being that Balinor was hunted after the Purge - after Kilgharrah was captured and Balinor escaped Camelot with Gaius's aid. If we assume the Purge lasted 4 years, which is the most likely - and shortest - amount of time for such a widescale and massive genocide to happen, then we can assume that Balinor fled to Ealdor at Gaius's urging, stayed for a few months at the most, before Uther's men caught wind of him and hunted him down again. This would put Merlin's birth shortly after Arthur's fifth birthday, as Balinor didn't even know that Hunith was pregnant by the time he left Ealdor.

Morgana's age is a little tougher to estimate, because while we know the circumstances of her birth, we don't have canon confirmation of the timing. But what we do have, however, is cast confirmation that Morgana is older than Arthur. Now, if we go with my personal favourite theory, which is that Uther grew tired/annoyed with Ygraine's inability to conceive, and went on to have an affair with Vivienne first, that would put Morgana at a minimum two years older than Arthur. My theory on this matter is also that if Vivienne had birthed a son, Uther would have abandoned Ygraine for her, and raised that son as his own, leaving Ygraine penniless but at least alive. I believe though that since Vivienne had a daughter, that Uther gave up hope there, and likely distanced himself from Vivienne and Gorlois from that point on (which we can also then attribute Gorlois's death to, since we're told that Gorlois died when Uther refused to send reinforcements to him). So, to sum up, we can assume Morgana is roughly 26-27 in season one.

Gwen, we have absolutely no point of reference for, unfortunately. We don't know when she was born, we have no significant events in the timeline that we can pinpoint for her birth, so her age is the most questionable. I've seen estimates that Gwen is 18 in season one, I've also seen younger estimates. Personally, I like to think that she's at least a couple years older than Merlin, but still younger than Arthur, so let's say about 22-ish. (I don't have an estimate for Elyan because I still cannot decide whether he is the older or younger sibling, so let's discuss that too.)

The knights range in age in my head between early 20's (Lancelot and Elyan) to early 30's (Leon and Gwaine) at the time of introduction. The exception being Mordred, who I assume to be somewhere between 18-20 in season five, since we don't actually know how old he is in season one, though he looks to be under the age of ten.

And all of this, of course, is running on the assumption that the entire show takes place over the course of ten years. I saw someone say recently that "well we never see winter or fall so REALLY the first two seasons are one year, then 3-4 is one year, then a three year break, then like. 6 months for season 5, so its only really been like five years!" Like.... okay, firstly, lets take a moment, alright, we know that there are time skips happening in canon, the events are not linear, though they are chronological, these episodes are not really happening back to back, if that was the case, everyone would be dead on their feet exhausted by like 1x10. The only real back-to-back episodes are the two-parters, and Kilgharrah's release, and even with Kilgharrah's release, there was still three days in between those episodes that we didn't see.

So what do we know?

Well, we know for certain that there is one year in between seasons 2 and 3 where Morgana went "missing" with Morgause. We know for certain there's another rough year between seasons 3 and 4. There are three years in between season 4 and 5. That's five years already of time we do not see. Now if we allow a year each per season as well, and just accept that things Didn't Happen during winter or fall, that rounds us up to a nice even ten years.

So, in the end that gives us the following in season 5:

Arthur - roughly 35 by the time he dies

Merlin - just on/under 30

Morgana - 36/37-ish

Mordred - 18-20

Gwen - roughly 32

And all of this is dependent entirely on how long the purge lasted. Because it's just unfeasible to believe it all happened in less than a year. Possible? Yes. Likely? No. Camelot is a well-supplied and well-defended kingdom (mostly) but they don't have the resources to create, begin and end a massive genocide at the level it committed, in less than one year.

And that was far more math than I expected to do before midday on a Wednesday but here we are I guess. If you've read this far, let me know what you think. I want to talk about this, and I am so tired of the "Arthur's 16 in season one" rhetoric, so let's talk about it please.

ETA: a very quick google search shows that the common age of majority in medieval England was 21 for men, and as low as fourteen for married girls, so yeah, we are Taking Liberties here. many liberties. all the liberties.

[archester-creations]

always should be someone you love

Rated: G

Pairing: merwainethur (Merlin/Gwaine/Arthur)

Word Count: ~1k

A/N: love spell; court sorcerer Merlin; briefly mentioned Gwen/Lancelot/Morgana where Gwen is dating them both and Lancelot and Morgana are bi-wlw solidarity

"Sir Leon, we have a problem."

Leon briefly raised his eyes to the sky and prayed for strength. Maybe if he asked nicely Arthur would make someone else head knight. Maybe Lancelot. Lancelot was nice and loyal. Though he knew he wouldn't actually give up the job, but sometimes it was nice to imagine. "What is it, Mordred?"

"King Arthur seems to be under a love spell," Mordred said.

There was a long pause where Leon attempted to let the words sink in. Or maybe they sank in immediately and he just didn't want to believe them. "A what?"

"A love spell," Mordred repeated to his chagrin.

"And what makes you say that?" Leon asked. He already felt tired.

"The flowers he keeps giving to Sir Lancelot," Mordred said.

"Maybe he just wants to show Lancelot how much he appreciates him as a knight of Camelot," Leon said, hopeful if not for how false that sounded even to his own ears.

"He's also giving him love confessions, Sir Leon," Mordred said. Taking the thin thread of hope with it. Of course, why not.

"Thank you for letting me know, Mordred. I'll take care of it," Leon said. Mordred nodded and walked off to wherever he wanted to go while Leon prepared himself to go where he didn't want to go.

When he found Arthur, it was with his hand in an amused, and a little embarrassed looking, Lancelot's. Morgana was there as well. She looked very amused. If this wasn't another thing in a long list of things he felt he had to deal with too much of, Leon might find the horrendous platitudes falling from Arthur's lips amusing, too, but alas.

"Lancelot."

Lancelot looked over at him, eyes alight like he just saw his saviour from the executioner's block. "Leon!" Immediately Arthur quieted– a small blessing. The pout Arthur shot him at being interrupted was the same from when he fought with Merlin. "Thank gods you're here. Help me get him to Gaius?"

"I'll try." Leon nodded. He took Arthur's other arm and they pulled him along between them, Arthur quiet on the way and content to be led by Lancelot. All Leon really did was wave away curious servants and knights. That was fine, Lancelot had his hands full.

"So where is Merlin?" Leon asked, because this was something Merlin would usually help with. Which made Leon suddenly have to question how many love spells Arthur had fallen under over the years without his knowledge. Vivian's first visit to Camelot came to mind. He stopped questioning.

Lancelot shrugged. "I sent a servant for him when I sent Mordred for you, but I haven't seen him yet."

"I see," Leon said.

The one bright side was they got Arthur to Gaius’ chamber without much trouble. There were a few nosy servants, as well as a few genuinely concerned ones, so there would likely be rumours of an injury around the castle for a few days. But those were pretty common. Lancelot managed to guide Arthur to a chair and get him to sit down, staying beside him so Arthur would actually stay. The entire time, Gaius watched, an eyebrow raised.

“We need an antidote for a love spell,” Leon said. The way Gaius sighed and looked knowingly at Arthur did not make him feel much better. But at least it meant Gaius knew what to do.

“You’ll need to find whoever he truly loves. Only a kiss from them will bring him back,” Gaius said.

Lancelot nodded. “Do you know who that might be?”

Leon sighed. He remembered secretly catching Merlin, Gwaine, and Arthur together a month ago. At least they would both be brought to the roundtable so they wouldn’t have to find them.

“I don’t, sadly,” Gaius said. “I wish you luck.”

"Thank you, Gaius," Lancelot said. He turned to Arthur, whose eyes never left him. "Come on, let's go back to the other knights."

"Alright." Arthur smiled dopily up at him. It was a bit strange to see on Arthur; a lot more open than any similar looks Leon had seen. Maybe after they solved this, Arthur would show looks its like more readily. Since this would destroy any relationship secrecy those three had.

 The headache was worse. In front of him, Arthur sat in a chair with Lancelot next to him. He was totally unaware of the chaos around him– a blissful unawareness Leon wished for– as his focus was only for Lancelot, eyes big and occasionally sighing wistfully. It was a good thing Morgana wasn't here because she would have a field day with her brother being head-over-heels for her girlfriend's boyfriend. On his left were the knights. As far as Leon could tell, they'd divided themselves into two camps with Lancelot doing his best to mediate impartially– perhaps he actually thought that Arthur liked them both?– from Arthur's side, the king's hand still in his. The two camps, of course, were whether Arthur loved Merlin or Gwaine. Mordred seemed to be a firm supporter of Merlin. On his right were Merlin and Gwaine, currently in a debate as to how 'kissed by who you truly loved' even worked when you romantically loved more than one person, given that it wasn't exactly clear. They were also arguing over who should kiss Arthur. If anyone asked Leon, though he was sure no one would, neither of these arguments seemed very serious.

"Arthur loved you first, Merls, you should kiss him!"

"You didn't know Arthur back then. I can assure you he liked you first, so you shoul-"

"CLEARLY Emrys is the better choice than some chronically drunken idiot!"

"He's more than just a chronically drunken idiot!"

Yeah. The headache was much worse. Leon pinched the bridge of his nose. He regretted ever getting out of bed this morning. In fact, after this was over, he would retire for the day.

“Why don’t you both just kiss him?” Leon said. It cut off Merlin and Gwaine’s argument, though not the knight’s argument which was still going strong. Leon was pretty sure if it continued, a minor civil war might break out. Percival was cracking his knuckles. Both Merlin and Gwaine turned to look at him, before they looked back at each other.

Gwaine shrugged, eyebrows raised.

“Well it can’t hurt,” Merlin said. Gwaine stood up and walked over to Lancelot with Merlin on his heels.

“Lancelot, my good man?” Gwaine gestured for him to leave, of which Lancelot looked grateful. It took a bit of prying to get Arthur’s hand off his wrist. The second he did, he was at the other side of the room. Arthur reached for him, but Merlin held him back.

"Wait, wait Lancelot my love, where are you going?" Arthur cried desperately, eyes heartbroken. This finally put an end to the knight’s argument. They slowly turned to Arthur. He’d begun to struggle, and Merlin’s eyes were golden as he kept him in place. “Merlin! Unhand me!”

“Ready, Gwaine?” Merlin asked.

“Always.” Gwaine smiled.

And they kissed him as one. Somehow they managed it without knocking their heads together. It made Leon think they must’ve had practice at it. And then he stopped thinking. There was a cheer from Elyan. Arthur blinked a couple times when they pulled back and his eyes lost the doe look Leon barely noticed before now. As a knight of Camelot, he felt a bit shameful that he'd missed the magicked look of the love spell, but it was a little overshadowed by how he clung to Lancelot so he decided it was fine. Besides, now he better knew what to look for for next time.

Next time.

Leon blinked.

"I'm going back to bed," Leon announced. Before anyone could argue with him, he turned on his heel and walked out the door.

[tyrseward]

He finds Lancelot quickly and by pure luck. Rather, he runs around a corner and slams into the heavily distracted knight. Merlin, mercifully, manages to clutch at the wall and remain upright. Lancelot, on the other hand, falls out flat on his back.

“I’m so sorry,” Merlin gasps as he scrambles forward to help Lancelot back onto his feet. The knight takes his hand and rises unsteadily, blinking dazedly. “I’m so sorry, are you alright?”

“Fine, fine,” Lancelot says, still blinking. “Thank you.”

Merlin pauses, brows furrowing. “For running you over?”

“Hm?” Lancelot shakes his head, and the daze seems to clear. Mostly. “For helping me up.”

A pause.

“Where were you going, anyway? You’re running as though the castle was on fire.” Another pause. “It’s not, is it?”

“The castle’s fine,” Merlin says, taking Lancelot’s hand again and turning back toward Gaius’ chambers. “I was looking for you, actually! I have something to show you.”

“What is it?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see.”

Lancelot sighs, but gives in easily as he is dragged along. “You concern me greatly, my friend.”

“I know,” Merlin replies.

When the pair reaches the physician’s chambers, they are blessedly empty, and Merlin drops Lancelot’s hand to clasp his own together, bouncing on his heels and grinning wildly.

“It’s in my room,” he says, then adds, at Lancelot’s wary glance at his door, “it’s nothing bad. Mostly. Probably.”

Lancelot stares at Merlin for a few long moments, long enough that Merlin can’t help but shuffle from one foot to another.

“It’s nothing bad.”

“I’m sure.” He sighs, shutting his eyes for a moment, then reopens them with the faintest hint of a smile on his face. “Well, let’s see, then.”

Merlin hesitates, mind conjuring far too many scenarios of Aithusa having caused irreparable damage during his time absent. He glances Lancelot up and down, taking note of the persistent exhaustion that drags at him despite the past couple days without duties.

“Maybe this isn’t the right time,” Merlin says. “Are you feeling well? You don’t look it.”

“Thank you, Merlin,” Lancelot replies. “Truly, your compliments are unmatched.”

It’s Merlin’s turn to stare at Lancelot, and he uses every ounce of disapproving physician that’s been trained into him to back it up.

“I am fine, I swear it. Simply tired, is all.” Lancelot gestures to the stairs. “Shall we?”

“Fine.” Though he doubts Lancelot’s assurances, Merlin does want him to re-meet the little not-dragon hidden away. It might even bring a true smile to his face, after the fussing over sanity and safety of keeping a definitely-not-a-magical-creature in the heart of Camelot.

Lancelot trails behind him as he makes his way to his room, and he hesitates once more at the door. More visions of carnage flash across his mind and he suppresses a shudder before carefully pushing the door open.

The room is messy, but only as much so as he’d left it.

He glances from side to side, then up and down. Not a thing out of place.

“Um,” he starts. “Hello?”

“Hello?” Lancelot echoes behind him, hushed.

Merlin doesn’t get a chance to respond to him. Scuffling of claws against the floor announces the presence of a little beast, and suddenly a bleary eyed pup is scrambling out from beneath his bed to greet him.

“Ah!” He bends down to greet her, relief pouring through him. “Woke you up, huh?”

The pup leans against him, content to grumble in complaint while also accepting his petting her back and side. She watches idly as Lancelot stares at her from behind him, brows furrowed and deep in thought.

“That is not a dog,” Lancelot finally settles on. “What am I looking at, Merlin?”

Merlin offers up a grin, but it comes out more as a grimace. There’s no denying it. Lancelot knows, he’s sure, what he’s looking at. Standing at the edge of the realization, denying it in hopes that he may be wrong.

“Lancelot,” he says, and scoops the little beast into his arms as he straightens up. “I’d like you to meet Aithusa. A completely normal, not-at-all-magical pup who was gifted to me in thanks for… something. I’m still working on that part. Here.”

And he promptly dumps the not-a-dragon, just-a-pup into Lancelot’s arms.

Lancelot catches the pup with ease, staring down at her with wide eyes.

“Merlin,” he says, voice strained. “Merlin.”

“Yes?”

“We are in Camelot.”

“Alright?”

Lancelot wheezes.

Merlin leans forward, concerned, but the knight tosses his head back, face to the ceiling for a moment.

“What happened? I thought the Great Dragon was looking after her?” Lancelot asks, eventually. When he can bring himself to look at Merlin again. “What changed?”

After a moment of quiet shuffling and fiddling with his sleeves, Merlin shrugs. “Aithusa kept trying to follow me. Kilgharrah told me she was my problem, and this is the only way I could think of to let her stay.”

When Lancelot doesn’t respond, Merlin keeps speaking. The words tumble out as he watches Aithusa watch Lancelot watch her.

“How could I turn her away? She’s just a little thing! Harmless!”

Visions of dragon fire burning innocents alive are brought violently to the forefront of his mind, consequences of the Great Dragon’s rage. He shakes them off with a visible shudder, and shrugs off Lancelot’s concerned look.

“She’s just a baby,” he continues. “And… and I’ll hardly get to see her, if she’s with Kilgharrah, anyway. It’s gotta be important, surely, to bond with the dragon I called out of its egg, right?”

Still no answer. He glances around the room, then back to Lancelot. His focus narrows to the little beast, and where Lancelot’s arm has curled around her to rub at her stomach.

Aithusa’s squeaky yawn breaks the silence, summoning a pair of quiet laughs and, blessedly, a smile to Lancelot’s face.

It’s small and still so, so tired, but it’s there. Merlin feels his own lips tugging up at the corners at the sight of it.

“How does this work, then?” Lancelot asks, finally. He meets Merlin’s eyes, hand still steadily soothing Aithusa back to sleep in his arms. “This is an illusion, isn’t it? Will it keep up to scrutiny?”

“Well,” Merlin says, “what do you think? If you didn’t know what she was, what would you think of her?”

Silence settles over them again, but it doesn’t press down on his shoulders, doesn’t overwhelm him. It’s comfortable, and Merlin breathes easier as he watches Lancelot. The knight looks back down, his hands running through the fuzzy white-grey fur and gaze focused intently on the little beast’s body, examining her for any fault, any tiny detail that breaks the illusion.

“She’s a pup,” Lancelot decides. “You have outdone yourself, Merlin. I cannot see a single hint that she is not how she seems.”

He looks up, at Merlin, with awe in his eyes.

It’s not entirely unfamiliar. It’s the same look he gave when he watched Merlin use magic for the first time after the griffin, and it’s the same look he gave when Merlin lost himself in a story from when he was young, and it’s the same look he gave when accompanying Merlin on a trip to gather herbs, listening to Merlin list off the herbs they passed and their uses. It’s the same look he gets with alarming frequency, and Merlin glances away as something warm and itchy curls in his chest.

“Good,” he says, something vaguely a grin flashing across his face before settling into something smaller, something tired but content. “Considering how much sleep I lost over it, last night, I’m glad it worked.”

“You should rest, then,” Lancelot tells him, gently scolding, and Merlin scoffs.

“You first,” he says. Then, after a pause, “I’m serious. You look ready to fall over. I bet I could even take you in a sword fight, right now.”

“I’m fine, Merlin. Stop fussing over me, you have a child to fuss over, now.”

“I can very well fuss over both of you, I’ll have you know.”

Sometime later finds Lancelot sprawled onto Merlin’s bed, mouth agape as he snores quietly. Merlin hates that even the man’s snores are endearing.

But what is even more endearing is the pup curled on his chest, paws twitching as she’s caught in a dream.

The combined image of the pair causes Merlin’s throat to tighten as some unnamed emotion grips him. He lingers for a moment longer, soaking in the peaceful little scene, then quietly makes his way out of the room, leaving the two to their well earned rest.

[merlin-reboot-when]

AU where Merlin tells Morgana his secret and they work out their differences. They begin studying magic together and fall in love. Morgana becomes a knight of Camelot when Morgause attacks, they are happy.

Until Uther catches them in Morgana's chambers together. He doesn't find out about the magic, but a servant trying to advance his daughter I mean ward? Off with his head! Morgana quick witted as ever makes a deal with Uther: He lets Merlin live and she will agree to marry a suitable Lord.

So Merlin gets banished, only Morgana, Uther, Lancelot and Gaius know why. Morgana is soon promised to a young Lord. He's kind and charming and doesn't disapprove of Morgana being a knight. She wouldn't even mind marrying him if she wasn't already in love. It would be funny if it wasn't so sad.

Arthur, Gwen and the knights notice a shift. Everyone seems to be a bit down these days, magical attacks happen more frequently and they still don't know where Merlin disappeared to. And why did Morgana, after years of fighting it, suddenly agree to get married? None of it makes sense.

Then shortly before the wedding Morgana disappears too. Together with Lancelot. She leaves a note saying she just can't go through with the wedding and not to worry. She'll be alright. They find Merlin and now that there's three of them who can work together they really get to work. They stay in touch with Gaius and take turns guarding Camelot while the others search for possible allies. Morgause is still out there and war is coming after all.

They end up gathering their people in the Fisher King's castle. The curse was lifted when he died, so it's perfectly safe and the land doesn't belong to anyone anymore. They start rebuilding and soon more people (who heard the Perilous Lands are a safe haven for magic users now) come and settle down. Merlin is declared King Emrys. He doesn't like the title, doesn't want it, but his people insist. So he creates a council immediately to help him rule. Iseldir and Alator are on it as well as some new faces. And of course Merlin's right hand Morgana and first knight Lancelot.

But although their new kingdom flourishes, sorcerers are still being killed elsewhere. So they start a diplomatic effort to forge alliances with other kingdoms. They can send their magic users Merlin's way and in return they get a good deal on grain and such. They meet with many Kings, Queens and Lords. Eventually they get an answer from Camelot as well. King Uther has fallen ill since Morgana's departure, but Prince Arthur wishes to meet and negotiate with this "Emrys".

Merlin, Morgana and Lancelot go of course. They haven't seen their friends in a long time and are looking forward to it. When Arthur realises who his guests are he feels betrayed though. He thinks it was magic which corrupted them and lead them to leave him and Camelot. He's not ready to sign any sort peace treaty. It doesn't help that Uther dies during the visit. The shock of seeing Morgana again and as a witch now, too, is too much for him.

So they leave again. Soon after Morgause launches her attack on Camelot. She thinks the King's death has left Camelot weak and vulnerable and she isn't entirely wrong. Camelot's army rides to battle Morgause's forces at Camlann. Merlin and Morgana hear the news and officially allied or not, Camelot needs help. Their friends need help. When a third army, not huge, but with many sorcerers in their rows arrives Arthur thinks it's over. Banners with triskelions and tridents (a tribute to the late Fisher King) and the golden sun of the Catha (and are those bloody dragons?)... But then the new arrivals turn against Morgause.

The battle doesn't last long after that. Morgause refuses to yield and dies at Merlin's hand. Everyone else who lays down their weapons is offered a home in the Perilous Lands. Arthur lives and after the events of that day has no more doubts about trusting Merlin and Morgana. Their kingdoms become close allies and friends.

Gwen marries Arthur and becomes Queen of Camelot. Merlin and Morgana wait a little longer, they have a kingdom to build after all. But eventually they too make it official. Morgana was born to become Queen after all - just not Queen of Camelot. Mordred finds his way to Camelot and becomes Gaius' new assistant. He already knows a lot about magic and healing and becomes a trusted and loyal member of the royal household. The knights live happy lives and don't die in war.

It takes almost another decade, but magic is eventually freed in all the kingdoms of Albion. Gaius lives to see that day and celebrates with everyone else. He dies a few months later of old age, peacefully in his sleep. Arthur and Gwen never have children, but they adore their nieces and nephew. The latter even comes to live with them for a while when he's sixteen and is named heir to the throne of Camelot. His older sister will one day become Queen of the Perilous Lands and the youngest wants to be a knight like her mother.

Arthur never has to fight a war as brutal as the one against Morgause again. His regency is a time of peace and prosperity. As foretold, he dies at Mordred's hand when the physician gives him a sleeping draught to ease his pain. His friends and family are with him. The prophecies, one way or another, came true, but this time nobody complains about it.

[thesparedata]

"Good, that's good. In...out." Merlin was doing well. As well as he could. Lancelot could see him trying to do as he said. It seemed to work. Suddenly, it all stopped and Merlin put a hand to his forehead and called himself an idiot as he became settled. It was passing strange but he was glad that Merlin was feeling better. It was likely another sudden bout of anxiousness. "You have nothing to apologize for. You're not an idiot either. It's like Arthur was saying earlier, I caught some of it. It's alright to get scared. I'm just glad I was able to help." A thought occurred to him as he spoke and he gently put a hand on Merlin's shoulder. "If this should happen when we're back in Camelot, you can come to me. I won't let anyone harm you, no matter the cost, do you understand? No matter the cost." He would give up his knighthood, if it would keep Merlin safe from anyone who was against magic.

Arthur looked to both Leon and Gwaine. "I want to have Gaius look him over but it's not going to be easy. Merlin seemed completely against the idea, when I brought it up, not wanting him worrying over him." Just because it wasn't going to be easy, it didn't mean he wasn't going to do it anyway. It would be good to try. "Maybe there's a way to approach it that would get him over that reluctance?" If either of them had some ideas, he would consider them.

Merlin fisted the ground underneath his hands and tried his best to focus on Lancelot's words. It was hard, with the roaring of his magic that he felt in his ears and veins, begging to be released. He followed Lancelot's instructions and began to take deep breaths in and out. The knight was too close to him. If he lost control, he wouldn't be able to protect him. He went to warn him to get away but felt something shift instead as his other self took over again. Merlin sat back on his heels and placed a hand on his forehead, trying to get his bearings again. The magic within him had calmed immediately as he took over again, reacting to his feelings instead of the others. "Idiot..." He should have listened to him at the start. He can easily control the magic within him. "I'm okay... Sorry."

Leon nodded and removed the hand from his friends shoulder, turning to look at the fire as well. "Yeah. It'll be good to have Gauis check him over as well. We'll look out for him." Gwaine nods, "yeah. He doesn't have to go through this alone."

@thesparedata

[azaleaniath]

Here we go! Hope you enjoyed this one ~

___________

Polaroid (final part)

Sir Lancelot x reader

word count: 1.5k

___________

You stood next to Merlin in his chambers, helping him with his chores. He used this moment to check on your well-being.

"I'm glad you came to piece with your stay here in Camelot." he exclaimed while you cleaned the table.

"You're getting along very good with the knights, don't you?"

As an answer you merely nodded. With a bucket of water in one hand and a cloth in the other, you looked over to Merlin as you noticed that he stared at you in silence.

"Are you good?" you asked quickly, dropping the cloth in the bucket.

There was a hint of a grin on his face.

"(Y/N), what do you think of Lancelot?"

Without even intending to, you brightly smiled automatically.

"He's a good, brave and honest man. Reliable, trustworthy, a true friend."

"Friend?" Merlin repeated laughing.

You blushed, knowing exactly where this conversation would go.

"Come on, (Y/N)..."

Instead of answering, you just continued cleaning and kept you mouth closed.

Merlin stacked the books that were scattered across the room and put them back on a shelf.

"Don't tell me you haven't taken a certain liking to him.

"I'm not blind, (Y/N). None of us are. Everyone knows."

You sighed and put the bucket away.

"Alright, what do you want to know?"

~~~~~~~

Gwen accompanied you through the palace garden to pick some flowers for the royal chambers. It had taken her some time until she trusted you as well. As she saw how you interacted with the others over time, she seemed to lose all doubts about you.

"So, any of your memories coming back?" Gwen asked calmly. You had never told anyone the truth, aside from Gaius, Merlin and Lancelot.

"Not really..." you mumbled as you avoided her eye contact.

"What a shame... I'm sure there's someone out there, missing you dearly. A friend, or a family member."

She leaned down to pick a few orchids, then the woman placed them in the basket she carried around.

"That could be. But I found new friends here in Camelot as well. Of course you can't compare that but I've met some amazing people here so far."

"I'm happy for you, (Y/N). You seem to get along with Lancelot very well, do you?"

Only now you looked back at her after picking up a few more pretty flowers, adding them to her basket.

"Please, Gwen... I'm getting pestered with these questions all day, from everybody. Spare me, please."

Gwen huffed at your words, then mustered you for some time.

"I just want to know if... Lancelot moved on or if he's still, you know...not over it..."

Noone had told you about this before.

With a surprised face you looked at her, gasping slightly. Just the thought of someone dumping and hurting him ached in your heart as well.

"He never talked about women before, I had no idea... That girl is stupid to let this angel of a man go. But if she broke his heart, she wasn't worth his love."

In awkwardness, Gwen pressed her lips together before she spoke again.

"It was... complicated. He was in love with her, but she was already smitten so someone else at the time they met again."

"She didn't wait for him to return? What a bitch... Hope she's happy with her new lover..."

Your expression hardened. It wasn't like you were jealous, but only mad at the thought of someone leaving the man you loved with a broken heart.

"They are indeed happy. It's been many years since then. A lot changed." Gwen tried to smile, even if you had just insulted her unknowingly.

"That sounds like you know her?"

In silence you stared at one another for a while, until she found her voice again.

"It was me. He was my first love."

A cold shower ran down your spine as you realized that you had just insulted the future queen of Camelot.

"Oh god, I didn't know! I'm so sorry Gwen, I really had no idea..."

She just shook it off and collected some more diverse flowers.

"No offense taken. Like I said, a lot changed, but let's not talk about that anymore. I was just curious if he ever mentioned anything because you two seem pretty close."

She decided that this was enough and signalled you to get back to the citadel with her.

Maybe you should talk about that with the knight?

~~~~~~

You were just changing the flowers in Lancelot's room as you heard the man someone enter. He brought himself closer to you and watched you exchanging the old flowers in his vase.

"Thank you, (Y/N). They're beautiful."

Once your eyes caught sight of him, you smiled wide, then suddenly remembering the conversation with Gwen.

"Guinevere and I picked them, in the garden. We got to chat a bit."

He swallowed, already guessing that you knew about his past now.

"She told you about..."

"Yeah, she did. She didn't brag about it, only wanted to know if you're over it."

For some reason it scared the knight how you would think of him now. Would your behavior change? The way you saw him?

"It's been years, (Y/N). I don't think about it anymore. She's happy with Arthur and I-"

He paused.

You turned to him before he picked a flower from the vase, broke off the flower and stuck it into your hair.

"I found something greater than I could've ever imagined."

His hand met your cheek shortly after, as he gently caressed your skin.

"If I don't tell you anytime soon, the other knights will crush me... I-"

"I like you too, Lancelot."

With a surprised face, he lowered his hand.

"Merlin and I talked about it a while ago."

You placed a hand on his chest,

He pulled you into a warm hug and nuzzled his face into your hair after exhaling heavily. It was like a stone was lifted from his chest.

You had found something here in this world that made you want to stay forever, out of your free will. A love like this was rare and something completely new to you. Now that you had confessed to him, you felt ready to take the next step.

"Lancelot, would you do me a favour?"

He made some space to look at you with a gentle smile.

"Anything, (Y/N)."

You swallowed before looking into his eyes and telling him about your request.

"Come and burn my belongings with me. My clothes , wallet, credit card, ID card, drivers license, all of it. Then bury my keys or throw them into a lake. Let me take a few pictures with the camera and then, let's get rid of it as well. I never want to go back again. I need to tell the truth. And then, I want to start a new life, with you."

Lancelot smiled at your words, agreeing with a satisfied nod.

"I'd say that new life has already begun some time ago."

~~~~~~~

You sat in front of a campfire, close to a lake. The sun was going down already. In your hands you held a bunch of polaroid pictures you had taken before coming here. The air smelled of burning melting plastic.

The pictures showed the knights, happily standing together with you. Another one showed Melin and you, both smiling at the camera. You looked through all of them with tears in your eyes.

Lancelot said next to you, taking a look at the pictures with you. "This one's good!" He pointed at a picture that showed you, Merlin and him sitting in Gaius' chamber, all laughing happily. You agreed, then looked at the other ones. There was also the picture of his broken sword and the one Merlin took of Lancelot sitting on the stairs to his room.

"I'll keep them all." you whispered, also coming across the very first picture you had taken, the one that brought you here.

The knight took a closer look at thr camera in his hands.

"There's exactly one more photo left." he mumbled and turned the device to around, closing the distance between you and him completely. One of his arms layed around your shoulder, and you quickly understood.

Once you wiped your tears away, you smiled at him.

"Ready?" he asked calmly, smiling back at you.

You nodded and kissed his cheek with closed eyes. The camera button klicked one last time, taking the final photo. The dark picture soon lightened up and revealed itself to the both of you.

"That means... There is only one more thing to do..." you whispered, holding onto Lancelot's hand.

He looked at the lake, then his eyes traveled back to you.

"Can you do it?" You asked with shivering hands.

As he saw your reaction, Lancelot hugged you and pulled you close to him, placing a soft kiss onto your forehead afterwards.

He got up, reached his hand out and helped you up. With slow steps, he lead you closer to the water.

"You're sure you want to do this?"

"I do. All I want to have left are those pictures. Nothing more."

After careful consideration, the man took a deep breath.

Both of you looked at the camera once more before he finally threw it into the lake, with all his power.

As soon as the camera met the water surface, it sank down into the darkness and onto the ground.

Both of you stood there for a long time, watching the water until it was completely still again.

"I love you...." he mumbled as he pulled you close to his chest again.

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

7 times Merlin shows off his skills as a Physician,

+1 time The Knights have to work together to stitch Merlin up.

TW: Lots of blood and graphic description of injury/sickness.

1)

The patrol had been going perfectly fine, even the small skirmish with a group of bandits was over and done with pretty quickly.

It was when the knights were taking stock of things after the fight that Elyan found Gwaine struggling to stand, leaning his weight against a tree and owlishly blinking his eyes with a look of deep concentration on his face.

Elyan put a soft hand on his back, quietly saying Gwaine’s name. The other knight whips his head up quickly to look at him, and the movement almost toppled him, but Elyan catches him with a hand on each shoulder and raised an eyebrow. Gwaine stares at him with squinted eyes, slurring his words as he slowly says:

“Elyan, mate, I don’t mean to uh... freak you out, but... there’s like... a whole bunch of you.”

It’s then that Elyan finally notices the slow trickle of blood from behind Gwaine’s ear, dribbling down his neck, he keeps hold of Gwaine’s shoulder as he looks behind him:

“Merlin! Gwaine hit his head!”

Elyan looks back around when he hears the knight gasp, to see him looking at him with wide eyes:

“Fuck, did I?? That’s not good, someone should.... should call Merlin.”

Elyan just bites his lip to stop himself from laughing, and nods sympathetically, as if agreeing with him. Gwaine slumps back against the tree and Elyan helps him sit down as Arthur and Merlin finally rush over.

Elyan moves out of the way, and Merlin crouches in front of the injured knight, setting his medical bag next to him as he takes Gwaine’s face in soft hands.

Gwaine gives him a bleary grin as Merlin checks his pupils and huffs:

“You... are very pretty.”

Merlin would have been happy to ignore Gwaine’s nonsense, but flushes slightly when he hears Elyan and Arthur snort behind him. He scowls at them briefly over his shoulder before beginning to clean the wound behind Gwaine’s ear, and checking for any further injury. The other knights gather around, having checked over the bandits for anything of interest, and Percival is the first to speak:

“He’ll be fine, won’t he, Merlin?”

Before Merlin can answer, Gwaine lifts a clumsy hand to pat the physician’s head with a shit-eating grin on his face:

“You know who is fine? This guy, very very fine.”

Merlin chuckles as he blushes, taking Gwaine’s hand and putting it back in the knight’s lap. The others laugh behind him but Merlin ignores them as he works, keeping his gaze on the wound, but speaking to Gwaine:

“Thank you Gwaine, but why don’t you keep your hands to yourself for a few hours?”

Gwaine huffs and pouts, looking very much like a child, but nods when Merlin smiles at him. Merlin finishes up, cleaning his hands as he stands, looking to the knights behind him:

“He’s got a pretty big concussion so he can’t fall asleep for the next twelve hours or so. He might feel nauseous at some point, and his balance will be way off, so I’ll ride with him. We need to keep getting water in him, but other than that, there’s not much we can do until it clears up. He’ll have a banging headache for a few days.”

Arthur nods, trusting Merlin’s judgement and gesturing Leon and Percival forward to help the knight up. Thankfully, they were on the tail end of their patrol and can just ride straight back to the city, but everyone takes great amusement in Gwaine’s slurred and nonsensical flirting with Merlin. That is, until the concussed knight turns his attention to Percival, and devotes his shoddy pick-up lines to the flushed giant, at which point it goes from mildly amusing, to absolutely hilarious.

2)

Everyone worries when Leon doesn’t show up to training.

Gwaine being an hour late? Not a worry. Leon not being early? Definitely a worry.

But when Lancelot sprints back to the training field after being sent to check on him, calling Merlin’s name desperately, everyone’s worry gets vastly amplified.

Merlin runs up to meet him halfway across the field, brow furrowed in worry. Lance rests his hands on his knees for a moment, struggling to speak through his quick breathing:

“He’s... there’s something wrong with him, I... I think he’s sick.”

Merlin immediately starts a quick paced journey back up to the castle, sprinting even quicker than Lancelot in his panic; Arthur and the others follow behind him, having not heard the conversation but turning understandably panicked at Merlin’s reaction.

When they finally catch up to him, he’s sat on the side of Leon’s bed, checking his breathing and pulse with a frown on his face. The knight is practically catatonic, eyes shut tightly, murmuring and twitching in his sleep, drenched in sweat and shivering.

Merlin looks back with a gulp to Arthur, stood by the door with a worried expression:

“I need you to go to Gaius’ chambers and pick up my bag. It’s fully stocked, I re-did it last night and it should have everything I need, but I can’t leave him.”

Arthur’s eyes widen at Merlin’s last words, obviously realising how sick Leon is, but Merlin’s harsh-

“NOW, Arthur!”

-breaks him out of his stupor, and he sprints away in the direction of the Physician’s chambers. The other knights, a breathless Lancelot having finally joined them, go to crowd into the room, but Merlin looks up at them, sternly saying:

“No, everyone out, it’s probably contagious, and with Gaius in the lower-town I do not have enough hands to treat all of you at once. Out.”

They all reluctantly file out of the room, but leave the door open, and Merlin rolls his eyes fondly as they all stand in the hallway, staring at their sick friend with furrowed brows and bitten lips.

Leon mumbles something and shifts in his sleep. Merlin looks back down at him, wiping the sweat slicked hair away from his forehead and rubbing a soft hand up and down his arm. The knight blearily opens his eyes, breaths shallow and rasping as his hand twitches towards Merlin. The younger man gives him a soft smile, hiding his worry as he takes Leon’s hand in his own. Leon relaxes slightly at that, blinking at him confusedly as he mutters:

“Mer...lin? I don’t... don’t feel... great.”

Merlin nods, stroking the back of Leon’s hand as he softly replies:

“I know, Leon, I’ve got you. You’ll be fine in no time, alright? Just go back to sleep.”

Leon nods slightly, and closes his eyes again, trusting Merlin’s words. His hand goes limp in Merlin’s once again and the physician swallows worriedly.

Arthur finally runs back in with Merlin’s bag clutched tightly in his hands. He’s breathing deeply, and at Merlin’s gesture, gently chucks the bag to him from the middle of the room, retreating again to stand by the door.

Merlin turns his attention back to Leon, rummaging through his bag, as Arthur asks, the concern clear in his voice:

“What else do you need, Merlin?”

Merlin doesn’t looks up at him as he pulls various supplies out form his bag, checking Leon’s breathing periodically:

“I need a few changes of clothes, a patient pallet brought up from Gaius’ chambers, a constant supply of cold water and clean cloths, and a spare chamber-pot; he’s almost certainly going to throw up at some point.”

Arthur nods, going out to speak to the knights. He sends Percival and Gwaine to the physician’s chambers to bring back some of Merlin’s clothes and a pallet, sends Mordred to talk to the steward about having a servant outside Leon’s chambers constantly so Merlin could have whatever he needed, whenever he needed it, and sends Elyan to rummage through the storage rooms for a spare chamber-pot. 

He walks slowly back into the room, but still keeps his distance, fidgeting harshly with his hands as he gulps, quietly, but worriedly asking:

“Will he be alright??”

Merlin, still not looking up from Leon and his bag, replies softly:

“He should be ok, but I need to keep an eye on him. I’ll be sleeping in here until he’s better, and I won’t be joining you at all until he’s at least up and walking around. Gaius should be back day after tomorrow, so try not to get injured until then, otherwise go to Gwen, she’s got a pretty good understanding of basic treatment. Shut the door behind you.”

Arthur nods mutely, understanding Merlin’s dismissal, and walking from the room silently. He turns back, quietly saying:

“They’ll be a servant out here to fetch anything you need. Thank you, Merlin.”

Merlin nods distractedly, focused on mixing some sort of paste in a bowl as Arthur sighs, and shuts the door behind him.

It was about two weeks before Merlin moved out of Leon’s chambers, but it was at least a month before he stopped periodically, almost subconsciously, reaching for the knight’s wrist to check his pulse. There had been a few scares, when his pulse was so weak that Merlin could barely feel it; he lost a lot of sleep over those first two weeks, too afraid to close his eyes in case Leon stopped breathing, and too concerned about his friend to let another physician take over.

Leon found it endearing, but didn’t mention it when he noticed Merlin coincidentally bumping into him multiple times a day and finding excuses to touch his fingers to his wrist or neck, even briefly.

He was fine in the end, thanks to Merlin’s thorough treatment, but it was a scary couple of weeks, when having to think about burying Leon was a genuine worry.

(The knight also demanded that Merlin be given a week off from his manservant duties when he was feeling better, which Arthur eagerly agreed to. Though he did spend almost the entire time trailing Leon round like a lost puppy, under the guise of “making sure he didn’t overdo it”.)

3)

Since he had arrived back in Camelot, Elyan had been spending more and more time in the family’s Blacksmith’s.

He felt the need to fill the void that his father had left in the old forge, and he enjoyed returning to his roots; there was something therapeutic about being surrounded by fire and hot metal once again.

But his years away from it all made him a little clumsy, having lost a little of the instinctual caution he had when he was a teenager. Which is what led him to be sat on a bench in the Physician’s chambers, watching with fond amusement as Merlin fretted and gathered various dressings and bandages.

The burn on Elyan’s arm was serious enough to need more than just cold water, but it was definitely not serious enough to warrant such worry from the Warlock.

He finally came to stand between Elyan’s legs, checking over the burn with soft hands after placing everything he had gathered on the table next to him.

Merlin looked up at the knight, and Elyan had to stop himself frowning at the man’s worry, and was that... fear?

He finally cleared his throat, glancing away briefly before saying:

“I uh... I could lessen the pain a little with magic, if you’re ok with that. But I have more than enough supplies to treat it normally if you don’t want me to, it’s really no-”

Elyan cuts him off with a gentle hand on the shoulder and a soft smile:

“It’s fine, Merlin. We trust you, remember? If you think your magic can help, then by all means, go ahead. I trust you.”

Merlin lets out a breath, relaxing as he nods and returns Elyan’s smile with a weak one of his own. He had only told the truth about his magic a few weeks ago, and things were still a little... raw. After what happened to his father, Merlin was expecting Elyan to be one of the least accepting of the sorcery, and he wasn’t wrong at first, but after a few harsh words from Gwen about all the times Merlin had saved her, and about how hard Merlin had tried to save Tom, Elyan did a complete switch, and became one of The Warlock’s most ardent defenders.

Elyan marvelled at the warmth spreading down his arm as Merlin’s eyes glowed gold and he muttered a few incantations. The burn was still there, but it seemed cleaner, and definitely hurt less. Merlin followed up his magic with some burn salve and carefully wrapped bandages, looking up at Elyan with relief in his eyes at the knight’s fond, trusting smile.

He continued his bustling around the chambers under Elyan’s amused watch, returning with a few small tinctures:

“Take one of these a day, starting this evening; it’ll help with the pain overnight. Come back the day after tomorrow and I’ll re-bandage it. Let me know if... uh, you want me to... you know-”

He wiggles his fingers vaguely, and Elyan raises an amused eyebrow at him, slowly saying:

“Re-do the magic?”

Merlin bites his lip and nods slightly. Elyan gives him a wide grin, hopping off the bench and ruffling Merlin’s hair:

“Will do, Merls. Thank you.”

With that, the knight walks cheerfully out of the room, shutting the door behind him and leaving a very happy, slightly less worried Warlock/Physician/Servant behind

4)

A particularly impressive move from Lancelot and a misstep from Arthur is what leads to The King sat on the grass with a belt between his teeth and Merlin stood behind him, one hand reached around and flat on his chest, the other on his shoulder-blade.

Lancelot is understandably freaking out, and Arthur is half focussed on how impressed he is, and half focussed on the stabbing pain in his shoulder.

Merlin moves his hand slightly and Arthur groans around the belt, biting down as the servant mutters an apology:

“Sorry. This is gonna hurt like a bitch but I need you to stay as still as possible, ok?-”

Arthur nods slightly, mumbling something that sounds like “just get on with it”, but it’s hard to understand with a mouth stuffed with leather:

“-Alright, on three, ok? One, TWO-”

On two, Merlin pushes Arthur’s arm back into it’s socket with a sickening pop, and The King groans even louder, squeezing his eyes shut and biting down on the belt in his pain. The knights all wince in sympathy, Leon putting a soft hand on Arthur’s other shoulder as the man breathes deeply.

After a few moments, Merlin straightens the arm, moving it round in a circle to make sure everything is where it’s meant to be, before grabbing the sling he’d had Percival hold, and wrapping Arthur’s arm carefully, letting it hang against his chest.

Arthur finally spits the belt out, grimacing as he flexes his shoulder slightly. Merlin puts a hand back on his shoulder, eyes glowing gold as he mutters a spell. The blond lets out a breath he hadn’t even realised he’d been holding at the blissful numbness spreading from his shoulder, down his arm and across his back, before looking up at an almost hysterical Lancelot.

Arthur chuckles at Lance’s face, shaking his head slightly as he says:

“Very impressive, Lancelot, though if you could save that for enemies, that would be great.”

Lancelot finally bursts, not seeming to have heard Arthur’s praise:

“Ar- Your Majesty I am so sorry, I really didn’t mean to-”

Arthur waves his free hand in dismissal, taking Mordred’s offered hand and standing up, still with an impressed smile on his face:

“Don’t be stupid Lance, like I said, it was very impressive, and with Merlin around there’s no harm done.-”

Merlin grins and blushes at the subtle compliment.

“-Besides, I dole out at least one injury a month, it’s about time one of you got me back. Well done Lance, you beat everyone else.”

He says it with a grin, and Lancelot finally relaxes slightly, raking a hand through his hair as he gives the amused King a weak smile, much to the other knights’ amusement. Merlin steps back in front of Arthur adjusting the sling and speaking forcefully:

“No training at all for a week, no full contact sparring or skirmishes with bandits for two. And I want to check it again before you start.”

Arthur’s face falls indignantly and he whines:

“Oh come on, it can’t be that bad! It doesn’t even hurt that much.”

Merlin scowls:

“Yeah, it doesn’t hurt because I numbed it with magic, prat.”

Arthur looks like he wants to argue, but Merlin just raises an eyebrow (very reminiscent of Gaius), the meaning of “I dare you to argue with me right now” VERY clear.

Arthur backs down, muttering a petulant “fine” under his breath, much to the knights’ amusement.

5)

To say that Mordred was panicking would be a vast understatement.

But to be fair, everyone was panicking.

Everyone thought that the fight had gone rather well, finally surviving a battle with mercenaries injury free, that was until Mordred had tried to stand up, only to find that he couldn’t breath, and his chest hurt.

Tears leaked from his eyes as he lay on the ground, squeezing Arthur’s hand so tightly The King was sure it would bruise; but he didn’t care about that, all he cared about was running his free hand over the younger man’s armour, desperately trying to figure out what was wrong.

Mordred took in shallow, gasping breaths, his vision swimming as the stabbing pain in his chest spiked with every movement. He had been calling out for Emrys in his head, unable to speak, and finally the panicked man burst through the trees, pushing through the crowd of knights and dropping to his knees at Mordred’s side.

He’d wondered off an hour or so ago to collect some herbs for Gaius, and had missed the whole fight, though he’d begun his sprint back when Mordred had called out for him at the start of the battle, pushing himself even faster when it became apparent that the younger man was badly injured.

Arthur immediately looks up at him, but doesn’t let go of Mordred’s hand as he speaks quickly, only just managing to keep the shaking out of his voice:

“He can’t breath properly, I think he got kicked in the chest but there’s no blood or anything, I don’t know what’s wrong with him Merlin, he can’t breath.”

Merlin curses under his breath, wiping Mordred’s hair away from his face as he rushes to say:

“Help me get his armour off, someone grab me my smallest knife and a roll of bandages, now.”

With that, Percival rushes to the dropped medical bag, riffling through it for what Merlin had asked for as Gwaine and Elyan rush to remove Mordred’s armour, and Leon and Lancelot move to stand guard, watching for any more attackers.

Mordred whimpers every time he’s jostled, but Merlin and Arthur hush him, squeezing his hand and stroking his hair. With the focused look on Merlin’s face, Arthur can tell that he’s talking to the Druid through their mental link, so doesn’t say anything, knowing that it’s probably the only thing stopping Mordred from panicking even more.

The armour finally comes off, and Merlin quickly puts his ear to Mordred’s chest, cursing to himself once more as he holds his hand out wordlessly for the knife.

Percival puts it in his hand without hesitation, and Merlin quickly cuts Mordred’s tunic away before hovering the sharp point over the side of his chest, looking up to Elyan and Gwaine still kneeled at his side and saying:

“Hold him down, he can NOT move when I do this.”

They don’t ask what “this” is, trusting that he knows what he’s doing as Gwaine moves to straddle Mordred’s thighs and hold his hips down, and Elyan pushes his shoulders into the floor. Arthur leans over to take both of Mordred’s hands tightly in his own, and without any more hesitation, Merlin pushes the blade down into Mordred’s chest with a soft apology.

Mordred whimpers even more, squeezing his eyes tightly shut, and letting out a pained yelp when Merlin twists the knife slightly. With the movement, there’s a hiss of air, and Mordred takes a deep, gasping breath.

Merlin relaxes slightly, and nods at the others to let go. Gwaine and Elyan move back, but Arthur stays, holding Mordred’s hands and trying to cover the disgust on his face as Merlin holds the knife in place.

Mordred finally opens his eyes, and Merlin gives him a reassuring smile before looking to Elyan:

“Elyan, you’ve got the steadiest hands, I need you to hold this-”

He nods down at the knife, and Elyan’s eyes widen in panic before he gulps and nods his head, carefully taking the knife from Merlin’s hands, and holding it place. Merlin moves to where Elyan had been sat, above Mordred’s head, and he leans down, moving his ear from one side of the Druid’s chest to the other, careful to avoid Elyan’s hands holding the knife.

He listens to each side for about ten seconds each time, moving between them a few times, before finally sitting up and nodding to himself in satisfaction. He grabs the roll from Percival’s shaking hands, once again wiping the hair from Mordred’s forehead and giving him a reassuring smile, before looking back up at Elyan:

“Pull it out when I say go, ok? Straight out, don’t twist it, don’t bend your wrist, just straight out.-”

Elyan nods firmly and at Merlin’s-

“-Go!”

-he pulls the knife out, quickly getting out of the way as Merlin presses one hand over the wound, eyes glowing gold as he mutters a spell. Mordred lets out a breath as he’s relieved form the pain slightly, closing his eyes briefly before Merlin says:

“No, come on Mordred, I need you to stay awake, I need to know that you’re ok whilst I do this alright? You can sleep later, I promise.”

Mordred nods slightly as he opens his still teary eyes, and Arthur leans closer, smiling at him and asking some unimportant question about what he wants for his birthday coming up. Merlin gives the King a grateful smile as he brings his hand away from the bloody wound, glad to see that the spell had worked and the bleeding had slowed considerably.

With the help of Gwaine and Elyan, Merlin gets Mordred into a sitting position, wrapping the bandages tightly around his chest, periodically checking his pulse and breathing with his hand.

He ties it off, letting a breath of relief escape him as he collapses back onto the floor. Mordred is slumped against Arthur, groaning as he desperately tries to keep his eyes open, but Merlin presses a hand to his forehead, eyes once again glowing gold as he mutters:

“Sleep.”

The younger man passes out pretty much immediately, and Arthur supports his weight, giving Merlin a concerned, questioning look. The Warlock meets his gaze, giving him a weak smile and nod:

“Collapsed lung, had to release the pressure. He’ll be fine, but infection is a concern so I need to get him back to Camelot as soon as possible.”

Arthur nods, and with a gesture from him, Leon and Lancelot lean down to pick the younger man up, carefully depositing him on the front of Arthur’s horse, to be taken back to the castle.

Merlin looks around to the others, noticing the shaking that had slowly started in Elyan’s hands as he stares down at the blood coating his fingers. Merlin touches a soft hand to his shoulder, and Elyan gasps, looking up at him quickly with wide eyes. Merlin gives him a smile, hovering his hand over Elyan’s as he murmurs a spell.

The knight looks down again to see his hands completely clean, and he flexes his fingers, before giving Merlin a tight smile, and muttering a quiet thank you.

Everyone mounts their horses, quickly urging them to follow Arthur back to Camelot.

6)

Lancelot was trying his best not to wince, but his wrist really did hurt.

They’d just made camp; Merlin, Lancelot, and Arthur were on their way back from visiting Hunith in Ealdor for a few days.

Originally it was meant to just be Merlin and Lance, but Arthur insisted that he come along for extra protection. All three of them knew it was just an excuse (Merlin was the most powerful Warlock in existence after all) but no one mentioned it. It had taken months and a lot of sleepless nights for Arthur to finally get the magic ban repeal through, and Lance and Merlin knew he needed a few days off, with no worries or responsibilities or titles or stupid crowns or councillors or meetings, so they were happy to have him tag along.

The knight must have sprained it when fixing the barn roof, but was reluctant to say anything; he didn’t want to put a dampener on the mood, and Hunith had been so accommodating, he didn’t want to be a bother. But when Merlin noticed him struggling to remove his saddle-bag with one hand, he raised an eyebrow, and held his hand out wordlessly.

Lancelot went to fake innocence, but Merlin just raised his eyebrow further and crooked his fingers. The knight sighed, putting his wrist in Merlin’s hand with nothing but a sheepish look. The Court Sorcerer ran his fingers over the soft skin there, noting the bruise with a disapproving tut before he mutters a spell.

His eyes flash gold, and Lance flexes his wrist as both the pain and bruise recede. He nods with a smile:

“You’re getting better at that.”

Merlin just huffs and rolls his eyes:

“Yes, well, you knights do insist on giving me plenty of opportunities to practice.-”

Lancelot huffs out a brief laugh, before he quietly apologises. Merlin just shakes his head with a smile:

“-It’ll still be tender for a few days, so don’t use it too much, Physician’s orders.”

Lancelot smirks slightly, and Merlin knows he isn’t going to like what he says:

“Of course, anything you say My Lord.”

Merlin scowls and squeezes the knight’s wrist slightly, muttering-

“I will turn you into a fucking toad.”

-much to Lancelot’s amusement.

Arthur finally reappears from collecting firewood, and raises an eyebrow at Merlin’s scowl and Lancelot’s laughter:

“What are you two up to, or do I not want to know?”

Merlin huffs and stomps off to collect his saddle-bag, and Lancelot clears his throat, still chuckling as he replies:

“Hmm. It would appear that Lord Merlin Emrys Ambrosius, Court Sorcerer of Camelot, Protector of the Once and Future King, Last of the Dragon-Lords, is not all that fond of his fancy new title.”

Arthur laughs, and Lancelot forgets his now long-gone pain in favour of joining in.

7)

This was one of the most serious injuries any of them had seen in a very long time.

Leon had been called in the tent to help Merlin, having been the least tired with the steadiest hands at the time.

Arthur was pacing angrily, Mordred was doing his best to meditate, Lancelot held one of Gwaine’s hands in his own, and Elyan had an arm around his shoulders, as Gwaine himself bounced his foot up and down. At the beginning, he’d tried to hold his tears in, but as the image of a bloody and dying Percival slowly cemented itself in his mind, he gave up, and let them flow.

They’d been in there for hours, and whilst the rest of the knights tried to have faith, the angry curse that Merlin had let out almost two hours ago, closely followed by hurried movements and Leon shakily asking what he needed to do, had not helped their anxieties.

Inside the tent, they were just finishing up. There was blood everywhere, metres worth of soaked bandages strewn around the tent, along with most of Merlin’s medical bag, which had been upturned and spread around for quick access.

Leon was exhausted, having spent hours monitoring Percival’s breathing and pulse with no break, passing Merlin whatever he asked for, and occasionally having to hold bits of his friend together whilst Merlin worked his magic (both literally, and metaphorically). But however tired Leon was, Merlin was a hundred times worse.

He’d drained most of his energy during the fight, and had to dig incredibly deep to pull out enough magic to keep Percival alive whilst he stitched him back together. The blade he’d been stabbed with was imbued with dark magic, and shards had splintered inside the wound. Luckily, no organs had been punctured, but plenty of blood vessels had been nicked, and nothing could be left inside or it would cause likely deadly problems later down the line.

That just meant almost everything had to be done by hand; magic was useful in keeping the knight asleep, and dulling the pain as much as he could, but as far as the actual healing went, Merlin had to focus on keeping his mind sharp and his hands steady.

His face had remained blank, and his voice deadpan through the whole process, and around half a candle-mark in, Leon asked in a whisper:

“How are you so calm? I... I’m trying my best but I don’t know how you’re doing this.”

Merlin doesn’t look up at him as he quietly replies:

“If I panic, he dies. I have to trust that I know what I’m doing, and just get on with it. You’re doing fine, Leon. It isn’t... it isn’t Percival, it’s just another knight-”

Merlin’s voice lowers, whispering his last words to himself:

“-just another patient.”

Leon nods, taking another of many deep breaths, focusing on keeping his hands steady and counting Perci- the patient’s breaths.

It was maybe an hour later, that Leon widened his eyes, looking up at Merlin in a panic; before he can say anything, Merlin feels it as well, cursing loudly to himself and dredging up his last reserves of magic to hold his tools in place (in Percival’s abdomen), moving up hurriedly to be by his chest, where he quickly starts CPR.

Leon takes a deep breath, gulping before says:

“Merlin, what do I... what do I do??”

Merlin doesn’t say anything, focusing on keeping rhythm, and Leon can hear him counting under his breath; he gets to twenty-seven when the knight starts breathing on his own again, and Merlin gives himself enough time to take a fortifying breath before going back to the wound and carrying on with what he’d been doing, as if nothing had just happened.

Another hour later, Merlin was putting the last stitches in, satisfied with his work, but by no means... hopeful.

And half a candle mark after that, the knight had been thoroughly cleaned and bandaged, tightly.

Leon (shakily) and Merlin (blankly) cleaned all of the Physician’s tools, and packed away all the detritus; they needed to keep Percival’s environment as clean as possible. He’d tried to force himself to do more, but Merlin’s energy had almost completely abandoned him, and Leon had convinced him to give it a rest; the longer he tried to force it, the longer it would be before his magic built up enough to be useful again.

Merlin finally exited the tent, drenched in blood, leaving Leon to keep an eye on Percival whilst he went to update the others.

When he set foot on the leaves, everyone’s head whipped up. Arthur had given up his pacing, and Mordred had abandoned his meditating, but Elyan, Gwaine, and Lancelot were all still huddled together; though everyone jumped up quickly when they set eyes on Merlin.

They looked at him expectantly, desperately, and Merlin met Arthur’s gaze first:

“You need to go sit with him, Arthur-”

He’s interrupted by a pained cry from Gwaine, and Arthur’s grief-stricken face. A request for the King to go sit with an injured man... that could only mean one thing in their minds. Merlin held his hands (still bloody) up placatingly:

“-he stopped breathing once, but we got him going again. If he makes it cleanly through the night then his chances shoot up, but if he gets an infection before morning then... there won’t be much I can do. Someone needs to go in with Arthur to take over from Leon, he’s exhausted-”

Mordred takes a step forward, a concerned look on his face as he softly says:

“You’re tired too, Merlin, you should sleep.”

Arthur nods, but Merlin waves him off, muttering:

“I’m fine.”

Everyone notices the bleariness of his eyes, and the shaking that had just begun in his hands, but they don’t say anything. They had been expecting this, it happens every time there’s a serious, life threatening injury. Merlin can compartmentalise for as long as needs to, but shock usually hits an hour or so later, when everything catches up to him. With how serious this injury had been, with how exhausted Merlin is, and how covered in blood he is, they aren’t surprised that it’s hitting a little sooner than normal.

Arthur nods at Elyan, and the knight takes that as his cue to go into the tent. Leon walks out a moment later, almost as covered in blood as Merlin, and breathing deeply, tears in his eyes as he heavily sits down. Lancelot wraps him in a blanket cleaning his hands wordlessly with a wet cloth before pushing him to the floor and telling him to get some sleep. Leon closes his eyes and is gently snoring within seconds; Lancelot goes back to Gwaine, forcing the man to look away from the still fairly bloody Leon as he whispers reassurances to him.

As this is happening, Arthur walks slowly to Merlin, putting a soft hand on his shoulder and gently saying:

“What do you need, Merlin? Right now, what do you need?”

Merlin’s eyes had been getting wider and wider as he stared down at his hands, covered in blood and now shaking violently. He looks up in shock at Arthur’s touch, seeming to have forgotten that he wasn’t alone:

“I.. uh, I need two people with Percival at all times, monitoring his breathing, pulse, and temperature. I need... need his pupils checked every ten minutes or so, and I need someone to count how many rolls of bandages I’ve got left so I can figure out how often I can afford to change them and.... and I-”

He looks back down to his hands, gulping, and Arthur can tell that Merlin is really not with it as he continues:

“-I need to go... go and wash my hands.... excuse me.”

With that, he stumbles off in the direction of the stream they had been taking water from. Arthur gestures at Mordred to follow the Warlock, before exchanging short nods with Lancelot, and going into the tent.

Mordred grabs a cloth and a spare tunic, before following Merlin’s trail. When he catches up to him, the older man is knelt at the side of the stream, scrubbing his hands viciously in the water. Mordred sits slowly besides him, gulping before quietly saying:

“Emrys? Merlin?”

Merlin hums in acknowledgment, but doesn’t look up, and Mordred huffs quietly, leaning over to take Merlin’s hands with a quiet:

“Let me.”

Merlin tenses only slightly before he fully relaxes, and the two men move to sit cross-legged, facing each other. Mordred dips the cloth he bought in the stream, and carefully wipes the blood from Merlin’s hands and arms. The Warlock sits absolutely still, and Mordred can tell that he isn’t really... present. He tilts Merlin’s head up, and his eyes seem to come into focus slightly as the Druid cleans away the blood on Merlin’s cheek and temple.

Mordred puts the cloth to the side, picking up a spare tunic and offering it to the other man:

“I thought you’d like to change.”

Merlin looks down to the offered fabric, and it takes him a few moments to process what Mordred had said before he nods slowly, and takes the tunic. He stands on wobbly legs, and Mordred quickly follows him, steadying him with a hand on his shoulder. 

Mordred looks away as Merlin changes. It wasn’t that he really cared, but Merlin was usually incredibly careful to hide his scars from people, (though everyone was aware that they existed, having caught glimpses here and there) but he was far too out of it to realise what he’d done. Mordred refused to take advantage of Merlin’s shock just to satiate his own curiosity about the marks marring his mentor’s skin.

He looks back to see Merlin just stood there blankly, bloody tunic dumped on the floor and hands still shaking slightly. Mordred sighs, he’s been warned about this, but he’s never seen it this bad before; it would seem that the last few hours had finally caught up to Merlin. The Druid takes a few careful steps forward, gently laying his hands on Merlin’s shoulders as he speaks to him in his mind:

“Merlin? You with me?”

His body doesn’t move at all, but Mordred can see his jaw twitch as he gets-

“I’m... I’m with you.”

-from the link. He sighs again, pulling Merlin into a hug; one hand running through the other man’s hair, the other hand firmly in the centre of his back, acting as an anchor, trying to keep Merlin in the here and now. It takes a few moments, but Merlin returns the hug eventually, burying his face in the crook of Mordred’s neck, and holding him tightly round the middle, breathing deeply.

Merlin takes a deep breath as he feels Mordred’s magic probing him for injuries and soothing his headache and exhaustion. In all the rush of Percival almost dying, Merlin hadn’t checked in with himself, and is surprised when Mordred finds, and heals, a bruised rib, and a cut on the back of his leg. Mordred doesn’t have nearly enough energy to be of any help to Percival, but he can heal Merlin’s aches and pains.

Merlin pulls back from the hug, giving Mordred a brief, teary smile before he croaks out:

“I need to go back to Perci-”

He’s cut off by Mordred harshly shaking his head and placing a hand on the side of Merlin’s neck:

“No, you’re exhausted Merlin, you need sleep. Arthur and Elyan are looking after Percival, but you and Leon both need at least a few hours of rest.-”

Merlin looks annoyed, like he wants to argue but is too tired to come up with a retort, and Mordred continues:

“-I promise, I will wake you up if anyone needs anything, but you’re of no use to Percival exhausted. Merlin, you’re about to keel over, and you don’t have any magic reserves left, I’ve given you a little of mine to start you off, but you need sleep.”

Merlin looks at him, his gaze assessing, though sleepy. He gulps, sagging slightly as he whispers:

“You promise you’ll wake me?”

Mordred gives him a weak smile:

“I promise.”

With that, Mordred picks up the bloodied cloth and tunic, tucking them under one arm as he pulls Merlin’s arm over his shoulder, semi-dragging the Warlock back to camp. He lays him down next to Leon, and the knight, in his sleep, reaches out and pulls him close.

Mordred lays another blanket over the two of them, before traipsing over to sit with Lancelot and Gwaine, where he finally lets his tears fall.

+1)

If Merlin knew how ridiculously they’d act, he would have hidden his injury and just dealt with it himself.

Unfortunately, Merlin had mistakenly assumed that Camelot’s seven best knights (one of whom was also King), would be able to be a little more composed.

He sat on a large rock, one arm hanging limply at his side, dripping blood onto the floor, as he stared at the knights. Mordred and Percival looked close to tears, Gwaine looked close to vomiting, Leon and Lancelot were just about managing to stay calm (but Merlin could see the panic in their eyes), Elyan was desperately riffling through Merlin’s bag, muttering something along the lines of “what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the-” , and Arthur was hovering directly in front of Merlin, biting his lip and breathing deeply as he offers reassurances to Merlin.

Merlin is half distracted by the pain, and half trying not to laugh at everyone’s panic. He’d both treated AND had so much worse than an arrow to the shoulder; don’t get him wrong, it was serious-ish, but it did not warrant this level of panic from seven of the Kingdom’s most fearsome warriors.

Elyan finally bustles over, hands full of random medical equipment, at least half of which are definitely not needed right now, but Merlin holds in his chuckle and doesn’t say anything. Arthur turns to the knight, gesturing everyone to gather close as he says, trying to keep the shaking out of his voice:

“Ok, do we take it out? Or do we break off the shaft and leave the head in?? I can’t fucking remember...-”

He trails off, and Merlin rolls his eyes, walking quietly to the remainder of his medical bag, and pulling out what he needs as he sits back on his rock. Gwaine glances back at him, but looks away again quickly as his face goes a little green and he mutters:

“Oh my Gods there’s so much blood.”

Merlin huffs and rolls his eyes; there really isn’t that much.

Leon looks to Merlin, and is the first to notice the man calmly sat there, treating his own injury. He lets out a very undignified yelp, stalking over and pulling the bandages and alcohol from Merlin’s hands and giving him a stern look:

“No, absolutely not, you’ve lost too much blood, you’ll make it worse, we’ll do it.”

Merlin rolls his eyes again, and gestures to the panicking group behind Leon incredulously as he says:

“This really isn’t a big deal, you lot are making a fuss out of nothing, I’ve had so much worse; can I have my stuff back now??”

Leon huffs, and Lancelot walks up to stand next to him, a concerned frown on his face:

“No, we’ll do it. Just... just talk us through it? It’s about time we had to stitch you up, I knew we’d need to eventually.”

Merlin stares at him for a few minutes, before sighing and shaking his head:

“Fine. Only you and Leon though, everyone else is too... jittery, for my peace of mind. They’re allowed no where near the arrow, or the needle and thread.”

At that, Gwaine goes even more green, mumbling a a quiet-

“Oh Gods, he needs stitches.”

-as he turns away. Merlin just scoffs slightly, and gestures Leon and Lancelot closer:

“Check the arrow for weakness, if it’s fully intact and feels strong, just yank it out. If it snaps, you’re going to have to dig the head out with a knife.”

Leon pales slightly, but nods, stroking his hand up and down the arrow far to gently to actually be able to tell anything. Merlin rolls his eyes:

“For pities sake-”

With that, he lifts his hand up, and pulls the arrow out in one quick motion, thankfully the head along with it. Gwaine promptly turns around and throws up in a bush, Percival running soft circles over his back distractedly as he stares in disgust at the bloody arrow in Merlin’s hand.

Leon gasps and Lancelot lets out an inhuman screech as he clamps a hand over the wound. Mordred whimpers and Arthur lifts a slow hand to cover his open mouth. Elyan blows a harsh breath out, stumbling back slightly and dropping all the things he had been carrying, much to Merlin’s annoyance.

Lancelot angrily looks to Merlin as Leon’s shaky hands try to thread a needle:

“Why?? Why would you do that Merlin? We have to be careful, we have to... we have to treat it properly.”

Merlin clears his throat, wincing slightly at the pain:

“You were being too careful. Let me put it this way, the longer you take, the more likely I am to get an infection and die a horrible death, all from a very simple, easy to fix wound.”

Merlin can vaguely hear Gwaine vomiting again in the background.

Leon takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment as he mutters to himself:

“Just another patient.”

Merlin remembers what he’d said all those months ago on Percival’s almost-deathbed, and rolls his eyes; this was hardly of the same magnitude, but if it helped Leon thread the damn needle, then he wasn’t going to say anything. The First Knight looked up to Lancelot, showing him that it was ready, and Lancelot looks to Merlin:

“What next, we clean it, right?”

Merlin nods amusedly, and gestures to the glass bottle of alcohol that Leon had taken from him, and a clean cloth:

“It’s gonna sting like hell but keep going alright? Wash it out properly, then put pressure on it until the bleeding slows, then stitch it up. You know how to do stitches?”

Lancelot shakes his head, but Arthur steps forward and nods, taking the needle from Leon as he says:

“I do, I’ll do it.”

Merlin takes a deep breath a nods, and with that, Lancelot cleans out the wound. Merlin hisses in pain, clenching his hands tightly as Lancelot mutters apologies and the other knights crowd closer. Leon strokes a soft hand up the Warlock’s back, Arthur has a hand on his (uninjured) shoulder, Mordred was whispering reassurances through the mental link, Elyan stood by with bandages and clean cloths, and Gwaine gave Merlin his best smile, despite still looking a bit sick with Percival at his side, holding him up.

Finally it comes time for stitching, and Lancelot swaps places with The King, Merlin one again rolling his eyes as the blond takes a deep, fortifying breath. He finally starts the stitches, and compared to the alcohol just moments earlier (and the Serket sting, and the Dorocha attack, and the fireball, and the poison, and the and the and the...) it’s a tickle. 

Merlin starts making a mental list in his head of all the things he’ll need to replace from his bag next time he gets to the market, which had apparently been the wrong thing to do, because a few minutes later Arthur is slapping him gently on the cheek and calling his name. Merlin turns to look at him incredulously:

“What??”

And Arthur heaves a sigh of relief:

“There you are, we thought we’d lost you.”

“Lost me? It’s an arrow to the shoulder, I’m fine! I was just thinking about all the bloody shopping I’m going to have to do, because you’ve given me at least two extra stitches, and used way too much alcohol and bandages! Honestly.”

Arthur is a little taken aback at Merlin’s outburst, but starts laughing after a few moments of shock, everyone else joining in, slightly hysterically. Merlin looks around at them, bewildered:

“Look, I know I... go into shock or whatever when someone almost dies but this... this is too much. You’re all ridiculous, and next time, I’m treating my damn self.” 

Leon finally breaks out of his giggles, ruffling Merlin’s hair slightly:

“We’re just glad you’re ok, Merlin.”

Merlin rolls his eyes fondly, giving the knights a reassuring smile:

“I am ok, I’m absolutely fine. Honestly, seven of Camelot’s finest warriors all hysterically panicking over an arrow to the shoulder. Gods, I hope you know I’m telling Gaius, Morgana, and Gwen about this, and they WILL laugh at you.”

Arthur turns on him quickly, pointing a finger in Merlin’s face as he flushes:

“You absolutely will not.”

Merlin raises an eyebrow, smirking dangerously:

“Try me.”

~

THE END!!

Ok so this one was one of my favourite prompts ever and I’m so grateful @semideadpanda sent it in, so thank you!!

If anyone wants to extend this or write it out properly, then go for it!!

Check out This List of things I’m working on, it will likely be #15 next! :)

[lemissingmask]

7. Gaia - Free Day

The final installment of the Mercelot Week 2022 drabbles from me.

Previous post

First post

-

“It was brave, Merlin,” Lancelot said as they walked, smiling slightly as he watched a stag dashing across their path a few paces aheaad, “Going after Gaius’ well. You could have asked someone else for help. Any other deity might have been able to help, and yet you went after Nimueh alone.”

“Alone but for a sheep,” Merlin grinned, “And, you know what they say…where there’s a wool there’s a way.”

Lancelot paused, steps faltering.

He stared at Merlin, “Really?”

Merlin shrugged and, after only a momentary pause, Lancelot smirked and shrugged too, falling back into step beside Merlin.

“I suppose such shear wit is what to expect from the god of revelry,” Lancelot’s smile turned cheeky, the joke and the expression surprising Merlin.

A very happy surprise that drew a startled laugh from his lips.

“And, getting Arthur to defy his father?” Merlin asked, “Is that what comes with being the god of beauty?”

Lancelot’s expression fell, “It is possible to manipulate by beguiling with beauty.”

“So why you wait so long?”

A soft sigh escaped Lancelot’s lips, “You were going to follow me. To become trapped yourself. I loathe manipulation through beauty. By any means, but…beauty is meant to uplift others, their spirits and give them hope. It should not force others to act against their will.”

“So…if I hadn’t tried to go after you…” Merlin frowned, “You would have just let Uther take you?”

“Rather than force Arthur. Yes.”

Merlin stopped, taking Lancelot’s arm gently, “Do you really think Arthur wants to obey Uther? Don’t you think that being given the chance to defy Uther for once was liberating? You gave him the power to do that, even if it was just for a moment.”

Lancelot smiled hesitantly, not making eye contact, “Do you suppose Arthur will be alright?”

“With Uther?” Merlin nodded, taking Lancelot by the shoulder and continuing to walk, “Arthur will be fine. Uther needs him. He’s the only being from the underworld with any semblance of free will who can leave the realm. Uther might be angry, but he won’t do anything to Arthur.”

Lancelot nodded, “I hope you’re right.”

“I am, so don’t worry,” Merlin squeezed his shoulder lightly, “And don’t feel guilty.”

Another smile graced Lancelot’s lips, “Thank you, Merlin.”

“Ewe are welcome.”

Lancelot laughed, the sound bright and lilting, rich and musical.

“How long are the sheep puns going to last Merlin?”

The dark-haired god shrugged, "Until it becomes unbaaarible."

With another smirk, Lancelot shook his head, "I can't imagine you ever becoming unbearable, Merlin."

Grinning broadly, Merlin linked an arm through Lancelot's, starting to talk about other matters, to chat over things unrelated to the underworld or sheep or their mission, in the back of his mind running through all the possible ways he could conceivably make this journey last for as long as possible.

He had barely known Lancelot before this misadventure, and now, he found he really didn't want to let him go.

At least, not yet

-

[farieshades]

:)

You know what time it is.

What would you change about Merlin?

There is alot that could be further expanded on and/or changed within the series BBC Merlin shows. What I think would be most beneficial, would be expanding on the Characters, Changes to the plot and character arcs, along with an addition to what we know as "Old Religion" as it's quite vague and unclear from the little we have from the show.

The Characters

Leon, angel, nothing. 

Percival, give me backstory. I want more info.

Elyan, also backstory. Why did he leave? I want all the info. I also want you not dead sir.

Morgause, what was the point in the duel? Was it to try and convince Arthur that his father was a bastard with his mothers spirit? If so, was Ygraine’s spirit actually just an illusion made to look real, likely not. Morgause looked confused at what Ygraine was saying and shocked and no one was paying attention to her but the camera. She wanted to see if he was an honourable man unlike his father? Do-able I suppose. Suspicious activities happening here. Also, self-sacrifice to unleash mortal-killing spirits is very manslaughter of her.

Elaine, for the love,,, please I would have loved to have her included as Elaine of Garlot. Let her be another half-sister of Arthur and later go on to be a marriage alliance with her marriage to King Nentres of Garlot. Let her have a son named Galeschin, who becomes a Knight of the Round Table [and a daughter also named Elaine]. It would just be a nice dynamic of Angry Half-Sister Morgana and Helpful Half-Sister Elaine. 

Gwen… She required more screen time, let us see her being Queen and making decisions. On that note however, let us see Arthur as King rather than the focus on his childhood when he wasn’t King. It’s the Story of King Arthur and we only get one season with him as King? Let me have Queen Gwen outwitting Kings in strategy that she learned from Leon and Arthur. Let me have Queen Gwen who is powerful in her own right, set in her decisions, but never loosing the gentleness she has in season 1.

Arthur, as above, should have had time to actually rule. Like, ok, reign cut short cause Camlann. Yeah, alright, thats typical. But all the adventures he has as a King never happen. There’s nothing being added to Camelot that the audience sees. There’s no treaties, no alliances, and there’s no Kings bowing to Arthur as a High King. Disappointing. 

Merlin, somehow despite the set up as the most powerful Warlock, is also the weakest version of Merlin that we also see. I’m pretty sure Disney’s Sword in the Stone Merlin has more power than this fellow despite BBC Merlin having more power in his pinky than the Disney Merlin. Merlin is supposed to be the enchanter. The prophet. The shapeshifter. And we get none of that. This boy is dangerous, and untrained, and should have had more emphasis on this. The writers nuked his power.  

Lancelot is doing great, we love lancelot. I’d love to have him a bit more intune with Magic because he was supposedly raised by the lady of the lake, but BBC decided he wasn’t and that’s an okay decision. I’d also like, because the show stressed it so much, more interactions with Merlin + Druids. 

Gwaine I’d have loved to have been confronted by his noble past somehow. I think it would give more to the character development if we see where he came from. Hell, a flashback scene would work. Little Gwaine running away from home. Or maybe, visitations to Camelot and the like. 

Gaius, as much as I hate to say, should have died season 2-3. Before Uther did in my head. Its the change of a regime. The old dying out and the younger generation taking their place. Gaius and Merlin basically share the role that is, in lore, “Merlin”, the old wise mentor for Arthur and the helpful aide that protects him. But, in killing him off, there is a chance for Merlin to blossom as a court Physician. He’d have a seat on the council, and while this would restrict his movements as Manservant, he could easily take on an apprentice (you know a young impressionable boy who needs some Guidance deagle) and follow Arthur on his quests while the apprentice would tend to the folk of Camelot. There, theoretically, should be another (or more) physician within Camelot. One for the nobility, and a handful for peasantry and then a couple of Midwives. From what the show gives us, it feels like Gaius is the sole physician in the bloody kingdom. Which… if healing looks like magic, might be the case horrifically.

Morgana’s story is tragic, but flat. I do love the Evil Morgana route that is taken, but there is a disconnect between Season 1-2 and 3+ in her behaviour. She is strikingly darker, more unhinged as the series progresses. Whether this is bad writing, paranoia, or enchantments, no idea, but it could be written better. Given more time for the change to become apparent for the audience then “Morgana’s back from a year away and now she smirks evily when no one but Merlin can see.”

Mordred has an interesting dynamic in the show, he vanishes out of existence after the Alvarr episode until season 5. I’d have liked to have him as a recurring character even if it's just a mentioned name somewhere. 

Uther’s character is weird because he very quickly blames everything on Magic, even when it has a very logical explanation. “Sorcerers broke into my wards room, that’s why the glass shattered outwards into the courtyard.” is very easily explained by literally anyone breaking a glass window outwardly, no magic needed. But again, changes could be done with how quickly things are forgotten. One episode he’s talking about a guardian power watching Arthur, the next he’s trying to kill someone for protecting their loved one with healing magic, you know?

Ygraine - from the little we’ve seen - is an alright character. She could have more life given in flashbacks, something Gaius, Geoffrey, Balinor, or Uther could have done that related to something present. 

For Vivienne I’d love to know more about Morgause’s birth and how she smuggled her out to Nimueh (or another high priestess but theres only ever reference to Nimueh, then theoretically Morgause who taught Morgana who was the last). Personally I like the thought that they were siblings, as it can be seen that Morgause is a powerful sorcerer and with two children with such magic, Vivienne is a strong contender for also being magic. 

Gorlois is the most boring character and I know nothing about him outside of him living, presumably, in Cornwall. Tell me more about yourself sir. I want all the knowledge.

Balinor I’d love to see more of then “Hey, hello, I’m your son and need help and oops your dead ffs.” He had the potential to be a strong ally and a mentor to Merlin, a possible foil to Gaius and, hells, a mentor to Arthur in teaching him that magic isn’t all evil as Merlin’s obviously not doing that job.

Hunith should have more screen time, but more so, I’d love to see Merlin’s childhood stuff with Hunith just shrugging her shoulders at the impossible magic acts like “yep thats totally normal.”

The Plot of Merlin itself is fine, not much would need to change, however, there were a few times when things just don’t make sense. For example, the cup of life nonsense (alright Holy Grail knock off) didn’t make much sense for the plot. We would have been fine without it. Aithusa’s plotline works only when following the prophecies about the Red and White dragon fight that… didn’t actually happen anyway. 

[Which the prophecy in question is related to Vortigern and stated “The pool is the emblem of this world, and the tent that of your kingdom: the two serpents are two dragons; the red serpent is your dragon, but the white serpent is the dragon of the people who occupy several provinces and districts of Britain, even almost from sea to sea: at length, however, our people shall rise and drive away the Saxon race from beyond the sea, whence they originally came; but do you depart from this place, where you are not permitted to erect a citadel; I, to whom fate has allotted this mansion, shall remain here; whilst to you it is incumbent to seek other provinces, where you may build a fortress.” Which really,,, doesn’t fit the show’s battle of Camlann when Aithusa was there as the white dragon]

The Reversal of character arcs that happen is very annoying. Each episode acted like everyone was a blank slate to learn the next lesson but built on it with nothing that they remembered from the previous. If it were changed to the characters actually remembering what they learned before, the series might have had less deaths and less trust issues and betrayals.

Religion in Merlin is really confusing. Theoretically, Uther is a Christian King following the “New Religion” (that is never actually mentioned) while the “Old Religion” is that of what was before. Which, in the UK at the theoretical time, was both Celtic and Roman due to Roman occupation of most of the area barring most of scotland. The show wasn’t about Religion, really, but touching on the subject would have been nice, and maybe telling us as an audience why. ‘Lore’ wise Arthur would have likely been a Christian King (written by christian authors undoubtedly do not help this) but with tolerance to Pagan/Heathen ideas. At the very least, Arthur was nominally Christian – according to the Historia Brittonum he bore an image of the Blessed Virgin Mary on his shoulders in one of his battles, while according to the Annales Cambriae he bore the Cross of Jesus Christ on his shoulders or his shield (translation errors from Welsh to Latin).

[veryhappyunbirthdaytoyoutoy-blog]

I wanted to write!!

I was bored and decided to start writing some Merlin fanfic over the summer!! This one takes place S1 Ep 5 “Lancelot” just before Lancelot leaves the city. Enjoy!! (or don’t, that’s cool too)

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Arthur found himself standing eerily still in the empty hallway outside of Gaius's chambers, wondering if he had hit his head a little too hard in the battle with the griffin last knight. It had been bright and sunny morning -- and well past when Merlin should have woken him up -- when Arthur decided to go bid Lancelot farewell (and grab his lazy manservant on the way). In his short time knowing Lancelot, Arthur had developed a solid respect for the man, one that had not diminished with the uncovering of Lancelot's deception, and he felt as though he should send Lancelot off with goodwill in hopes that the loyal man would one day return. Yet, perhaps Arthur should have known better than to trust the knight -- now ex-knight -- so quickly.

He actually hadn't meant to eavesdrop on the conversation between his manservant and the ex-knight, fully intending on walking in without so much as a knock, but just as Arthur was reaching for the door, Lancelot posed a question:

“So Merlin, was that fake seal of nobility created with your magic as well?"

Arthur froze, hand still in the air. Certainly he couldn't mean-

"Yes, well, there was no way I was going to let you go home after you had worked so hard to be here, not for some outdated, stupid rule. I thought that if my magic could help you achieve your dream, perhaps everything would be alright. I should have known it’d take more than conjuring a copy of the noble seal. I’m so sorry Lancelot-"

"Merlin," a soft thump. "You did what you believe was right; you wanted to give me a fair chance. And to more cost to yourself than I realized! Merlin, you used magic in Camelot of all places on my behalf, and I am honored that you would go to such lengths for someone like me-"

“Someone honorable? Lancelot, you are noble, more so than many I've met. More so than many nobles.”

There was silence now, and Arthur used it attempt at collecting. He let his hand fall to his side from where it had still been raised towards the door, and thanked any higher power out there that the hallway had remained empty.

He hadn't known Merlin for very long, and to say that they had gotten off on the wrong foot was a gross understatement, yet in the time he had known Merlin, Arthur had found him to be brave and stupid, amongst other things, but a malicious sorcerer?

He couldn’t begin to fathom it. Yet, there was no denying it, was there? Merlin himself had admitted it. Merlin...

The boy in question began to speak again: "I use my gift in Camelot to protect Camelot, thankless a job it may be. And that includes all it's people, commoners and royals alike. Even though some would be better called royal asses."

Lancelot chuckles deeply at that. Arthur, despite himself, lets out a soft snort.

"You helped me saved Camelot. You did something very brave -- something that, to the best of your knowledge, may not have even worked -- and you ended up saving the prince!” He paused and quickly backtracked, “okay, okay. WE saved the prince. Nevertheless, you are brave Lancelot, and you are FAR to good-looking to think so badly of yourself."

As Lancelot laughed heartily, Arthur took a moment to reflect on everything that he'd heard over the past five minutes. Everything he had heard was damning, and there was no doubt in his mind that Merlin had magic. Yet the more he turned the conversation over in his head, the more difficult he found it to believe that Merlin meant him any harm. Merlin had many opportunities to kill Arthur, seeing as he was Arthur's manservant of all things (his father should REALLY interview servants instead of randomly hiring a commoner, honestly...), yet Merlin had put his life on the line for Arthur many more times than any other SANE person would have. Merlin saved Arthur from a sorcerer, warned him about the man with the snake shield, gave him the directions to defeat the creature poisoning Camelot’s water, and had just now helped defeat a griffin that had been terrorizing the city! And, if Arthur was reading Merlin's words correctly, the manservant had been helping Arthur even more behind the scenes.

Arthur didn’t know how to feel about that bit. He certainly didn’t trust Merlin now, but...

As voices approached the door, Arthur walked quickly down the hall, heading back to his chambers. He decided that for the foreseeable future, he would be keeping a close eye on his servant.

Hands clasped behind his back and switching to a more leisurely pace, Arthur allowed himself a small smile. He may not be able to trust his servant implicitly just quite yet, but at the very least, this would be interesting.

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And there you have it!! My first fic here!!! If y ’all like it, I’d appreciate the feedback. I may make this into a series if it tickles my fancy, but I may just stick with one-shots. Who knows what the future may hold? Have fun and goodnight!

[lit-in-thy-heart]

One Breath at a Time

a short fic written for @merwaincelotweek (day 5: trust)

It was so subtle at first that Gwaine didn't really notice it. It was just a breath that didn't quite reach a definitive end, but lingering in his chest like the aftertaste of sour wine. And it was when he realised that the breath hadn't been complete that the next one stopped a little short. In fact, after twenty minutes, he couldn't actually remember what had made him start to take shallower breaths in the first place.

After twenty minutes, though, he was seriously beginning to panic, which was of course making the whole situation worse. And the meeting was still going on.

It wasn't a meeting, as such, more of a discussion between the round table as to what would be the best way to deal with Caerleon. Arthur had taken to involving his knights actively in most decisions that would affect the kingdom and, as a result, there were a lot of opinions being thrown around. Gwaine simply covered his mouth with his hand and hoped nobody would see the jagged rise and fall of his chest as he tried to regain even breath.

He could feel his heart throbbing through his body like the impact of hooves on dry earth and his head felt both light and heavy and, unable to take it any longer, he grasped Lancelot’s wrist.

It took one glance in Gwaine’s direction for Lancelot to realise something was wrong. Asking no questions, he turned his head towards Merlin. The slight movement was enough to catch Merlin’s eye and, after Lancelot mouthed a single word, Merlin collapsed to the ground.

The effect was instantaneous. Half of the table swivelled in their seats and Lancelot took Gwaine’s hand and tugged him gently from the table and towards Merlin in feigned panic. Well. Feigned panic for Merlin. As they knelt down beside the servant, Lancelot kept a firm hand on Gwaine’s back as he pretended to try and rouse Merlin.

'What happened?'

As Arthur approached, Merlin’s eyes fluttered open and Lancelot ran his hand along their arm. 'They fainted, I think. I'm not sure if they sustained a knock to the head on the way down.'

Merlin had definitely not sustained a knock to the head, but saying that was the most efficient way of getting Gwaine out of the room.

Arthur knelt down to help Merlin sit up, barely glancing towards Gwaine, who tried desperately to quieten his breaths and suppressed the urge to retch. It was difficult to tell sitting down, but his legs seemed to be trembling more than branches in a storm.

'You'd best take them to Gaius to get checked out,' Arthur quietly said. 'If there's anything that either of you have to say regarding Caerleon, then I'm more than happy to hear it. If you drop by my chambers at some point--'

'We will, my Lord, thank you,' Lancelot hurriedly replied, letting go of Gwaine after helping him up and pushing Merlin between them. 'We'll let you know how they are.'

Nodding, Arthur watched them slowly leave the room before returning to the meeting.

Outside the doors, tears were beginning to stream down Gwaine’s face as his breaths grew shakier. He gripped onto his partners and tried to focus on taking long, deep, breaths, but every time a shallow one came out he began to panic all over again. He knew it was stupid, as Lancelot and Merlin led him hurriedly to their chambers, knew that there was nothing wrong and he was doing it to himself and should just snap out of it, but it was easier said than done.

Or perhaps not easier said, as Gwaine was currently unable to speak without tears and gasps pouring forth along with the words.

Trembling, he pulled away from Merlin and Lancelot and began to strip off his armour, fumbling with fastenings and blinking back more tears. Gently, Merlin and Lancelot approached him, their fingers brushing against his arms. When he didn't pull away, Merlin began undressing him with immense speed and Lancelot kept his gaze fixed on Gwaine as he undressed himself, saying his name quietly to keep the other knight’s focus on him.

As soon as Gwaine was standing in only his shirt and trousers, he dropped down to the ground and threw his head back on the bed, inhaling as deeply as he could. 'What do I do?' he choked out. 'How do I breathe?'

'Put your hands behind your head,' Merlin softly instructed, settling down on one side of him, 'and just let the breaths come. They don't have to be full, just let them be slow.'

Nodding with closed eyes, Gwaine did as they said. He'd witnessed it happen to other people before: had seen them struggle to breathe properly, but never had he thought he himself would experience it. And especially not in the middle of a round table meeting.

Cautiously, Lancelot placed his hand on Gwaine’s leg and began to rub it slowly when Gwaine didn't flinch away. They both took deep breaths with him and eventually he reached out for their hands. He was still crying, was still feeling like he was on the run, but the nausea had subsided and the lightness in his head had dissipated. He was exhausted.

'Gwaine, how long were you like this before you turned to me?' asked Lancelot, when Gwaine opened his eyes.

'About twenty minutes. I just thought...I thought it would go away of its own accord. It usually does. But I just wanted to leave and couldn't and got more worked up and it got worse.' Gwaine took a deep, shuddering breath. 'I'm sorry.'

'You have nothing to apologise for,' Merlin fiercely said. 'Nothing.' They leaned forward to kiss his head. 'And I'm glad that you said something to Lancelot. You're going to be okay, love, I promise.'

'I just don't understand. I can't even remember what triggered it and then it's my own fault for getting myself so worked up--'

'It's not your fault,' Lancelot interrupted, shuffling closer. 'It's scary, not knowing why your body is reacting in a certain way. And it's very hard to rationalise when you're scared.'

Gwaine's legs had finally stopped shaking and he collapsed against Lancelot, pulling Merlin close. 'Thank you,' he whispered, 'for helping me.'

Lancelot’s hand stroked his hair as Merlin wrapped an arm around his waist. 'Of course, love. Any time you need it.'

Closing his eyes again, Gwaine allowed his breaths to play out by themselves, instead losing himself in the warmth from his partners' bodies. 'Is it alright if I take a quick nap?'

They both kissed him gently on the head. 'You don't have to ask,' Merlin murmured. 'Sleep, now, love, you'll be okay.'