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magicalsniper · 6 months ago

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The Legacy of Magic

5,853 words | Teen | Part 2 of 7 Author's AO3: MagicalSniper Story Link: The Legacy of Magic Part One Part Three Part Four

Summary: Balinor, summoned by Uther to negotiate with the Great Dragon Kilgharrah, witnesses the devastating aftermath of the Great Purge of Magic and is forced to escape Camelot, leaving behind a pregnant Hunith. Years later, his son Merlin, who struggles to conceal his magic, becomes fast friends with Prince Arthur. Their bond is tested when Arthur learns the truth about Merlin’s magic, but his loyalty to Merlin remains steadfast, though their relationship is marred by the weight of secrets and struggles for the safety of magic users in Camelot.

Chapter Two: The One Where Arthur and Merlin Become Friends

Hunith’s fingers trembled as she accepted the small woven basket filled with vibrant herbs from the errand boy. She hugged the basket to her chest to keep it from tumbling to the floor and closed the door firmly with her hip. The scent of rosemary and thyme enveloped her as she meandered through the Physician’s chambers and placed the basket haphazardly on the table beside the tinctures she had filled before the interruption. She began to fill the rest of the empty vials absentmindedly, accidentally overflowing one of them in her distraction.

“Careful with those tinctures, Hunith,” Gaius chided gently, noticing her distraction. “A single drop too much, and you’ll have the King dancing a jig rather than resting.”

“Maybe it’ll lighten the bastard up,” she muttered to her brother, moving the vials out of the way to clean up her mess. “Heaven knows we could all use the laugh.”

She wiped her hands on her apron and reached for the small vial of wheat and barley she had prepared a week prior, unable to wait any longer to see the results. She had read in one of Gaius’s medical books that if a woman thought herself pregnant, she would urinate over the seeds of wheat and barley over several days. If it grows, the woman is likely with a child.

Her thoughts wandered to Balinor and the passionate night they had shared not two months prior as she brought the vial close to the candlelight. If she were indeed pregnant with his child, what would that mean for her future, given the danger of having a magical offspring in Camelot?

“It’s a boy,” Gaius said softly, coming up behind her to look at the vial where the seedlings were leaning towards the candlelight.

She glanced down at the vial; indeed, the barley seeds had sprouted.

“And it’s… Balinor’s child?” Gaius asked in a light tone.

Hunith threw Gaius a nasty look over her shoulder, causing him to cover the teasing smile that crossed his face. It was no secret that she had been good friends with Uther and Balinor since childhood. There was no shortage of rumors among the castle and lower village that she had been warming the King’s bed since the death of Ygraine. Unfounded, of course, but that didn’t stop Gaius from teasing her about it every now and then.

His face took on a more serious expression. “Some might say…” Gaius paused, weighing his words, “... that ending this pregnancy might be safer for all involved.”

Hunith’s hands found the hem of her dress, twisting the fabric as she pondered his words. “Safer, perhaps,” she shrugged and sighed heavily. “But I cannot. This child is more than just Balinor’s. If Balinor has no more children, this child is the last hope for the Dragonlords— I cannot allow that to be extinguished.”

“I’d expect nothing less,” Gaius said with a nod and a warm smile. “We shall keep this secret safe for as long as possible.”

~o0o~

By the sixth month of her pregnancy, Hunith was glowing with the promise of new life— a new life already proving to be as mischievous as magical. Not an hour passed without vials toppling over unexpectedly, books fluttering like birds taking flight around the chambers, and quills dancing across tables in a bizarre waltz.

“Merlin, stop that!” Hunith scolded, despite knowing that her words would fall on deaf ears. “He’s not even born yet and is driving me crazy!” she muttered, slamming her hand down onto the book she had been reading as it tried to fly away.

"Perhaps it's best if you remain out of sight for the time being," Gaius suggested, righting a floating tome with a sigh.

“Lovely.”

~o0o~

Yet, even the best-laid plans of mice and men— or, in this case, physicians and their assistants, go awry. There was a grand tournament during the Spring equinox where all of Camelot had gathered. Hunith had become stir-crazy, now eight months pregnant, and had, against her better judgment, allowed herself to venture into the stands to watch the tournament, her presence masked by the throngs of spectators. Or so she had thought.

She was dressed in a loose dress that disguised her baby bump, never being more grateful that she didn’t show as much as many others did that late in their pregnancy. She would have been fine, with no one the wiser, had Uther, sitting in the middle of the stands, not caught her eye as she made her way towards Gaius, who was a few rows behind him.

Uther had raised an eyebrow at her and motioned with his head that she should sit beside him and young Arthur, who was kneeling on his own seat, blue eyes wide with wonder as he watched the jousting tournament.

She merely gave him a tight smile and shook her head. He likely thought she was trying to deny the request to keep the rumours at bay because Uther merely rolled his eyes and motioned with his head again, causing her to sigh heavily and approach him.

“Morning, Sire,” she said ‘sire’ in the most sarcastic tone she could muster, causing Uther to roll his eyes again and scoff at her. “And Arthur, how are you doing?” She cooed, reaching over to smooth his hair from his eyes.

Arthur, then three, grinned up at her, his two front teeth missing due to him falling from one of the castle statues earlier in the week. “Aunt Hunith! Are you sitting with us!? Did you see what the Black Knight did just now? It was so cool!” He reached over and hugged her waist, his face nuzzling her belly. Arthur pulled away and frowned at her belly, “Did you get fat?”

“Arthur!” she scolded, firmly pushing on his shoulders and glaring down at him. “There are two things you never ask a lady— her age or if she gained weight.”

Arthur pouted, “I’m sorry, Aunt Hunith.”

She sighed heavily and leaned down to kiss his forehead, pulling him into a hug. “I forgive you.”

Uther watched the exchange with a small smile, frowned at her, and scanned her body until his eyes rested on her stomach. He licked his lips and looked nervously at her, “Are you?”

“Would I be pregnant and not tell one of my oldest friends?” She asked him softly.

He gave her a sad look. It wouldn’t have even been a question eight months ago, but he could tell she’d been pulling away since Balinor’s disappearance. “I’d protect you if… if you were, as long as it wasn’t…” Balinor’s, it went without saying. Uther had no tolerance for magic, even from his oldest friends, not since Ygraine had passed.

“Would you have me killed if it were, Uther?” Hunith challenged, pressing the side of Arthur’s face into her hip and covering the other side of his face with her hand so that he wouldn’t hear their conversation. He hardly noticed, as entranced as he was with the knights below. “Have Arthur watch his aunt die right before his very eyes?”

Uther’s lips tightened into a straight line, and he could not meet her eyes. “I… I…”

“I’m not pregnant, Uther,” she lied after a minute of watching him trying to come up with a response, her hand stroking the side of Arthur’s face as she let go of him. “No need to go light the pyre.”

“Good, good, good… good,” Uther cleared his throat and patted the bench beside him. “Join me, please? I’ve missed you.”

“Careful, Uther,” Hunith said dryly. “You don’t want everyone to start thinking you have feelings.”

He huffed out a laugh and gently pulled her into the seat that Arthur had vacated, “You’re ridiculous.”

They sat in companionable silence, cheering in all the right places, making idle chatter between rounds, pulling Arthur down from the rails when he became so into the tournament he almost fell off it. It almost felt as it had when they were kids and would watch the tournaments together.

Unfortunately, it became too similar to the tournaments they used to attend as kids—the ones where Balinor would enchant the knights to do things when they grew bored.

One minute, they were watching a run-of-the-mill round; nothing seemed out of the ordinary until a knight began to charge valiantly across the field with his lance poised. He'd been suddenly flung off his horse and landed, not with a noble crash but with a tumble that turned into an inexplicable, hand-standing dance across the field.

Hunith froze, having felt the invisible burst of magic that rippled through the air. He looked over to Uther, hoping that he hadn’t felt it as well. Time seemed to stand still as gasps and cheers erupted from the crowd, the spectacle turning heads and raising brows, but it seemed as if no one else thought it was due to magic or felt the pulse.

Her heart raced, her cheeks reddened with a mixture of embarrassment and fear. She swallowed heavily, ice water in her veins, and laughed a bit hysterically. “R-remarkable balance, that one.”

Uther studied her with narrowed eyes, causing her to fear that he had felt where the magic had come from before his face smoothed, and he turned back to the arena, where the knight had since been released from the spell and was brushing himself off. “Indeed.”

Hunith leaned back in her seat and took a deep breath, her heart pounding as she realised how close she had been to being discovered. She looked down at her stomach with a frown. She was going to have her work cut out for her.

~o0o~

In the backroom of Gaius’ chambers, a young Merlin pressed his nose against the cool glass pane, eyes wide as he observed the bustling castle life below. He took particular interest in the junior knights who were running back and forth from the armoury to the training grounds. He couldn’t help the impish grin that overcame him before he wiggled his fingers in a silent incantation that sent swords and shields flying from the alarmed teen’s hands. He cackled as they ran around like chickens without their heads, trying to catch the weapons that continuously danced out of their reach.

He watched as the laundress and her assistant carried a load of royal laundry towards the fields to hang and sent it flying across the fields, the sheets moving as if they were playful ghosts, chasing the two women across the grounds.

He caught sight of an abandoned bucket of water and poured it over the heads of suspecting royals as they toured the grounds. He ducked out of sight when King Uther turned towards the Physician’s chambers, bemusement on his face as the servants rushed towards a screaming Princess Eleanor.

Gaius stuck his head into the room and raised an eyebrow at him after a deafening screech of hers regarding the state of her hair. “Merlin,” the man chided, exasperation clear in his tone. “You don’t seem to be doing your studies.”

“Not my reading and writing, but I am practicing magic!” Merlin’s playful grin fell slightly, and he sighed, “Yes, Uncle.” His voice lacked any remorse, the twinkle in his eyes betraying him. “I’m just so bored. Why couldn’t I go collect herbs with Mommy?”

“What happened the last time you collected herbs with Hunith?” Gaius asked.

Merlin muttered under his breath and kicked at the floor.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you.”

“I enchanted King Uther to fall and trip into the fountain,” Merlin looked up, his eyes flashing. “But he was being so mean to his poor manservant!”

“Why don’t you come help me make some tinctures?” Gaius suggested, “And then we can practice a couple of spells from your spell book.”

Merlin gasped in excitement and raced down the steps into the main chambers, “Come on, Uncle!”

“This child will be the death of me…” Gaius muttered, following his nephew’s excited calls.

~o0o~

At times, the call to leave the chambers was too strong, and Merlin would escape when his mother and Gaius were distracted. Usually, Merlin would find himself in the stables, feeding and brushing the horses for the stablehands.

Other times, he would sit on the hill a little away from the training grounds and watch Prince Arthur practise his swordplay with his wooden sword and shield. He moved with grace and power, commanding attention even with his small stature. Merlin’s fingers would twitch; he longed to join in on the laughter of the Prince and his friend Leon, to be a part of something grander than whispered spells and shadows. Or, maybe he just really wanted to mess with the Prince. He really wasn’t sure.

Then, there were times when Merlin would be chasing Gwen across the castle grounds, and he would look up to see Arthur perched on the Library sill, his golden head bowed over a tome. Arthur would raise his head, and for a breathless moment, their worlds would touch— but all too soon, Arthur’s attention was drawn back to his studies, and Merlin would often be tackled to the grass by Gwen. The moment tended to be quickly forgotten and replaced with pleas and squeals of laughter as she would mercilessly tickle him until tears formed in his eyes.

~o0o~

It was the morning of Hunith’s birthday, during Merlin’s seventh summer, and Merlin was determined to get her a present. Early that morning, he had slipped out of the Physician’s quarters when his mother and Gaius were distracted by two knights who had caught fever and a rash the evening before.

It had taken him a while to get to the market, and he took the long way so that Gaius wouldn’t see him out the window, but it had all been worth it. The market was a kaleidoscope of colours and smells, with vendors hawking wares from stalls draped with the brightest of cloths.

He moved purposefully, ducking between patrons as he searched for the perfect gift. He had been close to giving up when his eye caught sight of a wooden figurine. It seemed to glow a subtle gold as he approached, and he couldn’t help but be entranced by it. The figure was that of a dragon standing on its hind legs with its wings unfurled.

It was perfect.

His mother loved telling him tales of dragons and the brave Dragonlords who tamed them. He dug out all the money in his pockets and counted it out, frowning when the man told him he was one silver coin short.

“M’sorry, Lad,” the man said softly as Merlin pulled his hands back and shoved the coins back in his pocket.

“Thank you,” Merlin muttered as he turned away from the man, tears gathering in his eyes. He began to walk away when a strong hand closed over his shoulder.

Merlin froze and turned slowly. His eyes traveled up the tall man’s body until he got to his face. Upon recognition, he flinched back. He would have fallen if one of the knights behind him hadn’t caught him. “K-King Uther!” He gave a clumsy bow and kept his eyes trained on the ground, freezing under the man’s scrutiny. He knew he was in big trouble.

The one major rule his mother and Gaius had was that he was never to be seen by Uther. “Erm, erm…” he bowed again, for lack of knowing what else to do. “Sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to get in your way.”

“You weren’t in my way,” Uther said, kneeling down to his height. Merlin fidgeted as Uther studied his face, sharp eyes focusing on his eyes, nose, and lips before flickering to his eyes. His lips tightened into a straight line before he asked, “You were looking at that dragon figurine?”

Merlin’s eyes widened, and looked back at the stall before turning back to the King, “Y-yes, sir. I wasn’t trying to steal it, I swear! I just wanted to get my mommy a gift for her birthday today, but I was one coin short.” Tears welled in his eyes again, and his hands shook as he tried to take deep breaths to calm himself.

Unable to look Uther in the eye, he looked over the man’s shoulder and gulped audibly when he spotted the pyre that had been used to execute a young woman accused of magic not a day earlier. He clenched his shaking fists to keep his magic at bay and forced his eyes back to the ground.

Uther frowned thoughtfully at him and looked over to the stall with the figurine before he stood, ordering Merlin to stay where he was. Merlin kept his eyes trained on the ground, wondering what punishment he would get for getting in the King’s way when the dragon figurine slid into his blurry peripheral view.

He sniffed and rubbed his eyes before looking up at the King in disbelief. He took the dragon gently in his hands, his eyebrows knitted tightly together. “I… I,” he placed the dragon under one arm and dug into his pocket for his money, handing it over to Uther. “I can work for the rest,” he said quickly, his cheeks burning red with embarrassment.

Uther gently took Merlin’s hand and pressed the coins back into it, giving his hand a slight squeeze. “Tell Hunith that I wish her a very Happy Birthday.”

Merlin’s teary eyes, if possible, widened further, “I-I, yes, Sir.” He shoved the coins back into his pocket and hugged the dragon to his chest, bowing deeply. Only when he was walking away did he think he should have asked how Uther knew it was a present for Hunith.

His heart beat wildly in his chest as he tried to put as much space between him and the King as possible. He weaved through the bustling market with the dragon clenched tightly in his hands. Merlin had to get home before he ran into anyone else he wasn’t supposed to.

In his haste, Merlin didn’t notice the figure emerging from a tent to his right until they collided. The impact sent him sprawling on the ground, the figure skidding away from his outstretched hand.

“Watch where you are going, you idiot!” The voice, despite being young, was sharp and authoritative.

Merlin groaned and looked up to see none other than Prince Arthur glaring down at him from under his blonde fringe. He scrambled to his feet and brushed dirt from his green tunic. “Sorry,” he muttered distractedly as he searched for the figurine. “I didn’t see you.”

“Clearly,” Arthur stood tall, even at the tender age of nine. He was the very image of princely disdain, his blue eyes cold as he looked down at Merlin. “You should pay more attention. You could have damaged my armor.”

Merlin snorted. The ‘armor’ was a simple child’s chainmail, something even Merlin could afford to buy from any toy stall. “A real tragedy that would be.” His eyes brightened as he spotted the figurine and went to pick it up, examining it for any damage.

Arthur’s eyebrows rose, “Do you always talk back to your betters?”

Merlin looked around, feigning confusion, “I don’t see any of my betters here.” He couldn’t help himself. The Prince was rubbing him the wrong way.

“You insolent—” Arthur began but stopped abruptly, his gaze narrowing on Merlin. “I know you. You’re that boy Gaius is always yelling at, the one that skulks around the grounds.”

“Skulks?” Merlin huffed. “I prefer ‘strategically positioning myself,’ thank you very much.”

“More like strategically causing trouble,” Arthur countered. “Are you the one behind those weird things happening?”

Merlin froze, his hands squeezing the dragon tightly in his hands. “Of course not,” he lied. “Magic is bad,” he said the practiced words with conviction.

Arthur rolled his eyes as if he’d heard that a million times before, which was a high possibility, given who his father was. “Just stay out of my way if you know what’s best for you.”

“Right, wouldn’t want to interrupt your quest for the perfect hair,” Merlin said dryly, rolling his eyes as Arthur caught sight of himself in a puddle and was fixing his hair in his reflection.

Arthur’s eyes shot up to his, and his jaw tightened. “You’re impossible.”

“I can’t be impossible. I exist,” Merlin shot back with a grin.

“I am the Prince of Camelot. You will show me some respect!” Arthur's voice was sharp, his fists clenching at his sides.

Merlin raised an eyebrow. “Respect? Is that what they call it when you demand people bow down to your royal highness?”

Arthur stepped closer until his nose was practically pressed against Merlin’s. “You would be wise to watch your mouth.”

“Or what? You will have Daddy throw me in the stocks?” Merlin shrugged, “I wouldn’t mind. It faces the flowers, and they’re so pretty.”

Arthur opened his mouth to retort but then paused, studying Merlin. A flicker of something else crossed his features for a moment—was it amusement? “You’re… so weird.”

“Arthur!”

“Goodbye, Prince Arthur.” He scurried out of the way as Arthur grabbed him, cackling as he went.

Once he was a safe distance away, he stopped beside a house and looked behind him. He watched as Arthur walked towards his father, and he, too, stopped to turn back.

~o0o~

Merlin’s footsteps echoed against the stone floors of the Library as he moved through the towering shelves, searing for the book Gaius had sent him to find. The air was thick with the scene of parchment, ink, and leather, and dust particles danced in front of his eyes in the morning's rising sun.

“Stupid text…”

Merlin stopped at the corner of an aisle and peered around the corner. Prince Arthur was hunched over a hefty tome, muttering to himself. His brow was furrowed in concentration while his lips moved, his finger tracing the words he struggled to read.

He ignored him and continued to the next row, where the medical texts were. He looked for the red leather-bound book with a frown. When he noticed it wasn’t on the bottom four shelves, he began to scan the upper levels of the shelves. And there, about a meter and a half above his head, was the book that he needed. “Of course,” he muttered and looked around.

There were several scribes sitting at a table in eye line, and he knew Arthur was by the shelves in front of the one he stood at. Then there was Geoffery, who tended to wander through the Library without rhyme or reason. He’d have to do it the old-fashioned way.

He grimaced as he gripped the dusty shelf above his head and pulled himself up, his fingers slipping on the thick grime coating it. He tried again, this time knocking several books off the shelf and falling onto the floor.

“SHH!”

He glowered at the scribe glaring at him and jumped to his feet, wiping his sweaty, dirty hands on his breeches. He took a deep breath and tried again but struggled to get a solid foothold on the cluttered shelves, his feet continuing to slip on the accumulated dust and items.

“What are you doing?”

Merlin gasped as he lost his balance one shelf away from the book he needed; he closed his eyes as he made contact with the person below him, sending both of them falling to the floor with a loud crashing sound, throwing up a cloud of dust which was sucked deep into their lungs, causing the both of them to cough and sputter.

“Get off me!” Arthur growled, shoving Merlin off him. He coughed some more as he stepped up and brushed himself off. “What do you think you were doing up there!?”

Merlin winced and held his arm to his chest as he struggled to his feet. “I was getting a book for Gaius.” He tried to straighten his arm and grimaced, causing Arthur’s eyes to widen.

“Did you break your arm?”

“Probably just sprained it. I’d be crying if it was broken,” Merlin admitted as he took the long red scarf off his neck and twisted it into a makeshift arm sling like he had seen Gaius and his mother do many times before.

Arthur scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest, “That is what you get for being an idiot. There’s a ladder on the other side that you could have used.” He raised an eyebrow at Merlin before disappearing and reappearing with the sliding ladder, waving his hand at it. “See?”

Merlin scowled and watched as the Prince slid it over to where he needed it, “Yeah, I see it.” He gripped onto the side and hoisted himself up, shaking slightly from his tentative hold on the ladder. “... Thanks.”

“Oh, my god,” Arthur muttered, pulling Merlin down to take his place. “What book do you need?”

“I don’t need your help,” Merlin said stubbornly.

“I have to get back to my studies, and if we keep it up, Geoffery will throw us both out. Now, which book is it?”

Merlin sighed heavily, “The red leather one, up there.”

Arthur quickly fetched the book and handed it to him, glancing curiously at the title. “C-ca-nons Lie bra Med ci nae.” he scowled as he stumbled over the words, “Here, take the stupid thing. I have work to do.”

“Canonis Liber Medicinae,” Merlin corrected smoothly, accepting the book in his uninjured hand. “It means the ‘Canon of Medicine’.”

Arthur was already walking away, “I don’t care.”

Merlin, unable to help himself, followed Arthur back to his table. “Can you not read? How is that possible? You’re a prince! I’ve been reading for two years already, and you’re three years older than me!”

“S-shut up!” Arthur’s face burned red with embarrassment. “I have much more important things to do than sit on my butt all day and learn to read and write, unlike some people.”

“Yeah, because that's exactly what we all want in a future king—an illiterate,” Merlin said dryly, waving the book in his hand. “Thanks, I guess.” He glanced at the book on Arthur’s table and recognized the story Arthur was working on. “That’s a good story. I’ve read it loads of times.”

Arthur growled and picked up his quill, hurling it at a cackling Merlin as he fled from him.

“Idiot,” Arthur muttered, sinking back into his chair and resting his head on his folded arms.

~o0o~

A week later, Merlin was back in the Library, not because of an errand for Gaius, but to spy on Arthur. He was standing an aisle away, pretending to examine the spine of a book while he listened to Arthur’s muffled sounds of frustration.

He sighed heavily and put the book back on the shelf, shaking his head. He felt terrible for the other boy; from the sounds of it, he was still on the story he had been reading the previous week.

Merlin slid into the chair across from Arthur, kneeling to see across the table. “Do you need help?” He asked, cocking his head to the side to better see Arthur’s face.

“Go away,” Arthur snapped without looking up, his voice laced with embarrassment. “I don’t need help from a peasant.”

“Okay,” Merlin shrugged and jumped off the chair. He returned to where he knew there were several copies of Aesop’s Fables and pulled one from the shelf, flipping through its pages. “A Lion lay asleep in the forest, his great head resting on his paws. “ Merlin paused as he listened to the muffled sounds of stifled vexation that continued from Arthur. “A timid little Mouse came upon him unexpectedly, and in her fright and haste to get away, ran across—”

Realizing that Arthur would not ask him for help, Merlin sighed and returned the book before flopping onto the chair beside Arthur.

“Look,” Merlin said, pulling the book toward him with a gentle tug. “It’s really not that hard once you get the hang of it.” He pointed at the first two words, enunciating them slowly and clearly. “The Gnat. See? You start with the letters and sound them out.”

Arthur eyed him with a mixture of suspicion and curiosity. He sat silently glaring at Merlin for what felt like minutes, his shoulders tense as he stared down the other boy. However, Merlin merely smiled softly at him, and Arthur soon relaxed. “But Gnat sounds like Nat, not g-nat like it’s spelt!”

“It can be confusing at times. Our language comes from a mix of different ones, so the rules sometimes don’t make much sense…” Merlin scrunched his nose, “At least, that is what Mommy says.”

Arthur sighed before looking over his shoulder and leaning in close to Merlin. “Fine, you can help me,” he conceded, his voice barely above a whisper. “But if you were to tell anyone about this…”

“Who would I tell?” Merlin said with a giggle. “Who would believe me if I said that Prince Arthur couldn’t read and needed my help to teach him?”

For the first time, a hint of a smile tugged at the corner of Arthur’s mouth, and the tension between them began to lessen. Together, they bent over the book, and under Merlin’s subtle guidance, Arthur began to stumble less and less with each new sentence.

And if Merlin had forgotten that he had snuck out and needed to be back before Gaius and his mother had returned from the lower town and was subsequently grounded from leaving the Physician’s chambers for the next week, well, it was worth it.

~o0o~

The following weeks found Arthur and Merlin huddled in a corner of the Library. Heads pressed together as they poured over Arthur’s study books. Merlin had also taken to the habit of bringing his own study books to get some of his work done. If one were to listen in, one would hear the sound of hushed voices and the occasional giggle as Merlin walked Arthur through the finger points of literacy.

“Try again; go slower,” Merlin encouraged, leaning on his elbows, half his body on the table, as he looked at the book Arthur was reading from.

“Knight… hood,” Arthur pronounced carefully, and with a triumphant lift of his chin, he looked to Merlin for approval.

“Put it together, knighthood,” Merlin corrected gently, his eyes shining brightly as he looked at the other boy. “You’re getting better! Soon, you’ll be able to read all the stories people will write about your adventures!”

Arthur grunted, a small smile on his face. “I guess I have you to thank.”

“You thanking a commoner?” Merlin quipped, his smile turning into a full-on grin.

“You’re right. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Arthur retorted, but the warmth in his voice belayed his words.

Their tutoring sessions became an unspoken routine, but they didn’t confine themselves to the dim candlelit library. Outside, under the vast blue sky, their friendship continued to flourish.

After they would study in the Library, Merlin would follow Arthur to the training grounds. He would watch, eyes wide with wonder, as Arthur and the other junior knights went through their rounds. He’d cheer when Arthur would get the better of his opponent and run over to him in worry when he didn’t, although he wasn’t above playful ribbing when the occasion called for it. At the end of Arthur’s drills, Merlin would be there with a giant smile and water for the sweat-soaked prince. They would sit together and watch as the older knights trained, their laughter mingling with the metallic armor ring as the knights practiced.

“Could you imagine me in all of that?” Merlin asked one day, gesturing to the knights. “I’d probably fall over from just trying to lift the sword.”

Arthur snorted, “You’d fall over from just the chainmail. If you had a sword, you’d probably wind up skewering yourself.”

“Ha-ha, you’re so funny,” Merlin replied with a roll of his large eyes. But he frowned, his gaze lingering on the knights. He might not be able to be a knight, but he did wish he could learn a way to protect everyone without the danger of exposing his magic. A wistful expression crossed his face before he shook it away.

When the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows over the castle grounds, Arthur and Merlin found themselves playing hide and seek among the hedges and statues. Merlin would cheat, using his magic to rustle the bushes or create a whisper of wind, consistently leading Arthur in the wrong direction.

“Got you!” Arthur shouted triumphantly when he finally discovered Merlin, jumping on the boy’s back and wrestling him to the floor.

Merlin elbowed him off and jumped back onto his feet, “Maybe next time you’ll be able to find me before my sneeze gives me away.”

“I was buying you time,” Arthur said with a huff and the crossing of his arms over his chest. “Next time, I won’t go so easy on you!”

“If you say so, sire,” Merlin said mockingly before squealing and dodging Arthur’s grabbing hands. “Come on, one more round. I’ll even let you prove how ‘easy’ you were going on me.”

Merlin's laughter filled the garden, a sound as bright and mischievous as the twinkling stars beginning to emerge in the deepening blue of the evening sky. He darted behind a grand statue of Camelot's founder, his breaths quick and light, his heart pounding with the exhilaration of innocent play and newfound friendship.

“Come on, Merlin! I know you are using your tricks again!” Arthur’s voice carried an edge of feigned annoyance, but the laughter in his voice was unmistakable.

“Tricks? Me?” Merlin called back, peeking out from behind the marble statue. “I’m just being resourceful.”

“Resourceful,” Arthur repeated dryly, although his lips curled into a reluctant smile. “I will figure out what you are doing.”

“Good luck with that,” Merlin muttered, a silent incantation slipping past his lips, causing a nearby shrub to rustle.

"Ha! There you are!" With a triumphant shout, Arthur lunged towards the sound, only to find his hands grasping at empty air while Merlin slipped away once more, chuckling at the prince's expense.

They ended their game as the dinner bell rang through the castle, both breathless and flushed from laughter as they slowly made their way up the castle steps.

“Another win for me, then?” Merlin quipped, a playful gleam in his eyes.

“Only because you are as slippery as an eel,” Arthur said with a scoff. “Seriously, Merlin. I will find out you one day.”

“Maybe,” Merlin conceded, his gaze turning toward the horizon where the fields of barley and rye swayed in the breeze.

“Definitely. You’re too much of an idiot to keep it secret for much longer, whatever it is.” Arthur grabbed Merlin around the neck and pressed his knuckles to his head, making the younger boy squeal. As they ran through the corridors, their shared laughter echoed off the ancient stones, a harbinger of the adventures yet to come.

Part Three

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starrieisdelusional · 2 months ago

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Merlin Fix It AU season 2 Finale:

Kilgharrah reached his breaking point and calls to nimueh. The witch appears under the castle surprisingly enough. Kilgharrah made an offer: if she can free him from his chains, he will help her kill uther. She’s delighted.

She managed to free him (in one way or another) and they immediately went into action. Setting fire on camelot. With the unexpected attack nimueh burst into citadel, ready to jump on uther who was in the throne room with our main cast, with balinor watching in the shadows (he was keeping an eye on merlin)

He lowkey doesn’t care that this man is going to die until Merlin tries to stop her. but she launches a spell on him so with no other way and knowing how dangerous nimueh is, even for merlin, Balinor came out from the shadows and stops it in time with his magic as the whole court watched in cringe

nimueh backs away and balinor commanded kilgharrah to surrender. Uther was furious, gaius is face palming himself, arthur gwen and morgana was in shock for various different reasons, and merlin is about to faint.

Uther being uther immediately told the guards to kill this man on-sight because holy shit that’s a dragonlord, THAT’S THE GODDAMN LAST DRAGONLORD THAT’S SUPPOSED TO DIE 20 YEARS AGO- but arthur stops them and tell his father that it would be unwise to kill balinor now as the great dragon is in fact, terrorizing camelot.

Uther calls bullshit as he blames balinor for kilgharrah’s rampage and balinor taunts him too, saying how he’s only getting revenge because uther had caged him under the castle for idk 20+ years and killed every last one of his kind, including the dragonlords, calling him a fool and a tyrant and that his kingdom deserve to fall. Uther veins popped as he hears this and tell the guards to imprison him instead but balinor says no and vanishes from everyone’s sight.

Merlin is obviously in distraught during all of this (no he doesn’t know that’s his father but he is somewhat of a second father to him next to gaius). And gwen gaius morgana and arthur tried their best to calm him even if arthur (and maybe gwen because i changed her backstory) is miffed that balinor is 1. A sorcerer and 2. The fucking last dragonlord

The dragon attacked for the 2nd time but the castle is prepared now and as nimueh attacks. the main gang had managed to knock uther unconscious so they can drag him away from nimueh who already took control of the castle.

They spent the days after that in hiding, thinking of a strategy to take the castle back but is unsuccessful because theyre literally fighting against a dragon!!!! Balinor appeared during all of this and is happily welcomed back by merlin morgana and gaius but arthur immediately went diplomatic mode and say: we need your help.

Arthur even promises that he is going to make camelot to be a place that is safe to live in for balinor and take back the decree of hunting every dragon and dragonlords. But balinor obviously doesnt trust him and told him it was uther’s fault that camelot is in danger and he refuses to help.

Arthur was so pissed off he got into a physical fight with balinor but got stopped by the main cast. balinor told him that he clearly isnt ready to be king.

Nimueh and kilgharrah found them and obliterated them, nimueh finally gets to uther and is about to kill him before arthur stops her and pleaded with her.

He bows to both nimueh and kilgharrah, vowing that he will lift the ban against magic in camelot in exchange for uther and for his people alive. He even lets them to take him in their stead. Nimueh saw ygraine in arthur and reluctantly agrees but kilgharrah didnt see that obviously and tries to off uther but balinor stops him and he angrily goes away while nimueh disappears in the shadows.

The crew goes back to camelot to rebuild things and things were going pretty well until a guard suddenly stabs balinor in the back and he drops to the ground. Morgana immediately kills the guard and arthur looks at his father.

Uther says “There will never be a place of magic in camelot, not then, not now, not ever, magic is a vile and wicked thing, and it always will be”

Merlin tries to shake him to wake up but balinor lay motionless as he dies in his arms.

As the episode ends, morgana is seen talking to a cloaked figure “i want to kill uther pendragon”

Interested in my au..?

or filter w the hashtag #must we really rely on fate?

#lol sorry #bbc merlin #merlin #merlin bbc #arthur pendragon #merlin emrys #arthur bbc #merlin prompt #merlin concept #merlin fix it #balinor #must we really rely on fate?#uther pendragon #morgana pendragon #guinevere #gaius

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thenerdyindividual · 8 months ago

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Ship ranking?? Uhhhh I want in!

The most random ships I have:

Mithian / Vivian, Mithian could turn out to be the one to free Vivian from the enchantment and make her into a better person!

Hunith /Uther or Ygraine / Balinor or Hunith /Ygraine etc etc. All the combinations

Gwaine / Elena I just think they're neat. They both have chaos energy. Plus, Elena's Father seems like a chill guy who would accept a peasant (who isn't actually a peasant huhhhhhhh)

Hear me out... Finna / Alator.

Nimueh / Freya

Julius Borden / Will

I swear I am not throwing these name out randomly there's a thought process behind it

Like Nimueh is of the old religion, so maybe she finds Freya after death in Avalon. And Freya being the kind soul she is can help her heal and grow out of her hatred.

And for Julius and Will... Picture a world where Will didn't die. And now everyone thinks he is a sorcerer. Julius hears rumours of the son of the last dragon lord living in Ealdor. So he goes there and he assumes it's Will, and Will just agrees to cover for Merlin, so he has to fake being a Dragon lord until the letter he sent reaches Merlin to warn him and to idk get help? But huh huh they actually fall in love.

Okay! There’s a lot here and I’m going to unpack all of them! This is fun!

Mithian / Vivian

I’m in favor of lesbian queens ruling a kingdom together, but also I like Mithian and feel she deserves better than Vivian. And I really dislike Vivian because she was mean to Gwen and I adore Gwen. I’m just not that interested in Vivian’s character, personally. I think Mithian, Gwen, and Morgana are all more interesting in her. So for that reason I rank it:

E-Tier

Hunith /Uther

No. Just no. Okay I know Uther was probably not always a genocidal maniac, but to quote Brennan Lee Mulligan “Before you were a fascist, you were a bully.” I think Hunith deserves to get her needs met by someone who would not one day gleefully send her son to the pyre. I rank this ship:

E-Tier

Ygraine / Balinor

Ohhhhh now this has some interesting vibes. Does Ygraine have a romance with Balinor before meeting Uther? Does she find out that Uther cheated on her, and got revenge on Balinor? Was it both? Does that mean that Uther and Ygraine were an arranged marriage? If so that makes Uther and even bigger hypocrite by using her death to justify his hatred.

For sheer implications and intrigue, I rank this:

C-Tier

Hunith /Ygraine

Ooooo a parallel to Arthur and Merlin, hell yes. I’m in favor of more sapphic romances in this fandom, and this could be fun. But also I now want an extremely cracky one shot where Merlin and Arthur are dating and introduce their moms, only for their moms to start hooking up, much to the horror of Merlin and Arthur.

I rank this:

C-Tier

Gwaine / Elena

I see this one a lot in the background of fics and I’m never much of a fan. It’s just a little too quirky for me. Like I’m sure there’s a fic out there that could get me to ship it, but most of the time it feels like people just want to ship the chaotic one with the chaotic one. It rarely feels thought out to me, and often feels like shoehorning it in because everyone needs to be a couple.

That said, it’s never enough to make me click away from a fic. And I could see how I would enjoy it if there was more time and thought put into their relationship. I mean, Gwaine is wandering rogue pre season 4. Chances are he ended up in Gawant at some point right?

I rank it:

C-Tier

For the potential

Finna / Alator

Tbh? In my soul, this is canon.

B-Tier

Nimueh / Freya

I just feel like Nimueh would trigger Freya. Super powerful, super scary, witch lady? After Freya got cursed dating Nimueh would just set Freya up to be terrified all the time. I don’t vibe with it. Also I think Freya has been through enough and doesn’t need to be fixing Nimueh.

I rank it:

D-Tier

Julius Borden / Will

Here’s the thing, I love Borden as a character but I like to make him Merlin’s shitty ex. I know the go to is Cenred, but he has way more chemistry with Borden.

So as far as shipping him with Will? Idk man. I’d maybe be tempted to read the fic you described because it sounds fun as hell, but Borden is just such a fun scummy piece of shit that I don’t ship him seriously with anyone. So without reading that fic, going on vibes alone…. I rank it:

D-Tier

Send me a Merlin Ship and I’ll rank it on a tier list. Note: This is a subjective ranking and a low ranking in no way means that I am shaming you for your taste in ships.

#bbc merlin #merlin #merlin bbc #mithian #princess mithian #gwaine #uther pendragon #king uther #bbc uther #hunith #balinor #merlin ship tier list #i am so sorry #I did not realize how low these would all be and now I feel bad 😬#I think our tastes don’t line up very well

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yellow-faerie · 1 year ago

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I really wish I had the patience and time to write a really long au fic/fic series that centres on Ygraine - and later, as we get into the main series, the main cast - as she grows up surrounded by magic and as a dear friend to Nimueh and pretty much anyone she spends any time around, to meeting Uther and becoming queen and maybe having some of his more anti-magic rhetoric start to stick just a little bit

And then Uther is killed soon after Arthur is born by an assassination attempt done by a rogue group of mages

And then we see Ygraine's slow descent into revenge for the man that she loved (a man who's faults she continues to deny and warp after he died) as she goes after those mages and then some more rogue mages until it's almost an all out war against magic

The dragons and the dragonlords fight Camelot in an all out war which ends in Camelot winning, after which Ygraine gives Kilgarrah the "mercy" of being imprisoned rather than killed for being the only dragon not to fight (as Balinor asked him not to, for he still held friendship for Ygraine so couldn't fight her) and Balinor is exiled

Anyway, I kinda want to write this like that so that you can see her slow descent into villainy. She's still kind and she's still just (for the most part), but magic blinds her so that those who practise magic tend to get killed or imprisoned for the most minor of offenses, made out to be something terrible

Still, Nimueh stays at her side and is allowed to train her nieces, Morgana and Morgause. Nimueh is Ygraine's one weakness, for she is wilfully blind to the almost genocide the queen is creating because she loves her so dearly.

Arthur is maybe a tad kinder, a tad more patient, but he is still brash and loud and incredibly proud of his skill with a blade and for being a prince. He doesn't necessarily hate magic but he has an inherent wariness of it in strangers that his mother has instilled in him.

Morgana is far more naïve here, learning magic from her mother's sister and doesn't fully realise the prejudice that magic users suffer because it's not in the law that they can't practise magic - she doesn't realise that the air of fear and distrust makes it incredibly difficult for any magic user to openly practise and still survive because she's lived her whole life as one of the few the Queen trusts

(Ygraine knows that Morgana is Uther's daughter but that is something she is keeping to herself for later use)

Merlin arrives from Ealdor where his mother and father still live because he was growing restless and they trusted Gaius and Alice to take care of him.

The first season is a few minor antagonists (and a few extras who take the place of Nimueh) and it is Merlin keeping his magic secret due to a very natural fear that the Queen might decide he's too dangerous

The second and third seasons have Cornelius Sigan being a much more major threat, taking the place of Morgana and Morgause when minor villains can't, and being the one who eventually takes over Camelot in the S3 finale (and who throws the sleeping curse on Camelot in the S2 finale)

Nimueh is killed in the S3 finale which is the thing that finally breaks Ygraine and leads to Arthur being a stand in king and knight the knights, and all that - Ygraine's death is committed by that same group who killed Uther which fuels some of the anger and hatred in Arthur

S4 focuses on Arthur grappling with magic and what it is, with Agravaine on one shoulder telling him it's evil, and Tristan (Ygraine's brother Tristan) on the other saying that it's good which comes to a head in the S4 finale where Merlin uses magic to save the group and it's revealed

S5 would be more focused on finding ways to allow magic back into the country, while still fighting the odd fringe group of magic users who are still unhappy and a lot of not magic groups who are unhappy the crown is doing this

It ends happily though because it's a sort-of fix-it where most people live and aren't evil

But yeah, I think this would work better in a longer form fic just for the slow descent that you can't quite do in shorter form

#like I said it's a sort of fix-it so I also call this AU #Forcibly Found Family's Your Camelot #since people who arrive in Camelot have about a 50/50 chance of being inducted in #but also yeah I love AUs where Ygraine lives (instead of or with Uther) and makes things better #but I kinda want to do one where she goes a little bit insane from grief #because why not?#Nimueh #Ygraine #Arthur Pendragon #Merlin #Balinor #Morgana #BBC Merlin #Fanfic #kinda #Fae's Stuff #Fae's Fic

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fanfic-recs-01 · 1 year ago

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Merthur Fics

This is just a list of all the Merlin/Arthur fics I like on AO3, if you have any recs for me feel free to send me some!

Updated 6/15/24

If I was a Wizard (I'd mess up all my spells) by reallyneedsalife

~Magic is now legal in Camelot, a change which is widely embraced. But while there is happiness in the change, there is also hatred.

While on a simple hunting trip, Merlin and the knights run into trouble. Trouble that leads one of their own to die to the blade of another.

Well, kind of- anyway.~

Did You Know? by TheAsexualofSpades

~Merlin is…confused.

He’s doing his job as a servant—not that he’s begrudging his position that much, destiny is destiny, after all—and putting up with all the things that servants are supposed to put up with.~

If You Die, I'll Kill You by mamie_pink

~Arthur has the foolhardy idea while taking the knights and Merlin on a hunting trip to pass through the Valley of the Fallen Kings. He doesn't heed Merlin's cautions and needless to say things do not go well for them.~

Emrys the Really, Truly Terrible by lindenwaverly

~In which magic is legal and Merlin is still lying for reasons that are absolutely, totally 100% valid and have nothing to do with his love for Arthur~

Maybe the Hoard is the Friends we Made Along the Way by charcharizard5

~After Balinor dies Merlin inherits his Dragonlord abilities. Though no one informed him he would be inheriting dragon traits as well. It shouldn't be too hard to hide. Until his hoarding tendencies surface.~

Worst Fear by simple_shrimp

~A curse placed on Camelot reveals everyone's worst fear. ~

Don't You See? by TheAsexualofSpades

~It wasn’t supposed to happen like this, Merlin thinks, not like this at all.Granted, he hadn’t exactly been super picky about how his magic got revealed in the first place, seeing as he’d come to terms with the fact that it would just be his secret until he died.But this…this was far from ideal.

The Technicalities of Family by CaffeinatedFlumadiddle

~While traveling from Ealdor, Merlin runs into some knights of another kingdom. Upon finding Ygraine’s sigil, he is assumed to be part of the royal family.Merlin isn’t sure what’s going on.~

Nobody's Fool by foxy_mulder

~Duke Ben-something-or-other clears his throat and looks Merlin up and down. “Apologies, my lord, I have not introduced myself. I am Duke Benedict Earl James the Fourteenth." He stands and bows.“And I’m Merlin.” Merlin scratches his armpit.Arthur rolls his eyes. “He means your title, idiot.”“Oh. I’m the Court Jester.”~

Change in Crowns by derekstilinski

~Arthur has traveled to sign a treaty of friendship with other kingdoms, when he realizes they've intended to set him up to marry as well. He doesn't want to marry for the sake of marrying, so he pulls a clumsy, crowned Merlin in with false talk that they married quietly.~

Thick as Sorcerers by CaffeinatedFlumadiddle

~Merlin hates Mordred and Mordred is determined to put an end to that. Arthur is convinced that this child is after his man.~

Complement (Two Halves of a Whole) by greymantledlady

~Merlin dashes fiercely at the tears that have started to trickle down his face, and waits. Because if Arthur wants to take him back to Camelot as a prisoner, to a cold cell and death in the grey morning – if that is what Arthur wants, Merlin will let him, because he can’t deny Arthur anything.~

Fool Me Once by CaffeinatedFlumadiddle

~Uther finds out about Merlin’s magic, but can’t seem to kill him. Merlin is just trying to protect Arthur. They become a begrudgingly effective duo. Arthur doesn't understand why they think he isn't noticing this.~

Damsel in a Phone Booth by Blackwidina

~“it’s the middle of the night and i’m walking home alone in the dark and there’s this guy following me and he’s starting to gain on me and i found this phone booth with a lock on the door and i tried to call my best friend but my hands were shaking so badly i accidentally dialed the wrong number and i don’t even know you but help me” au~

A Warlock's Worth by ella_bane

~When a visiting prince sets his sights on Merlin, Arthur is not amused.~

No Harm Will Come to You Here by fancyh

~Merlin gets hit with a spell meant for Arthur and loses his memory. Revelations ensue. Set sometime after 5x02.~

Have you Heard by CaffeinatedFlumadiddle

~The knights keep hearing various (dramatic) rumors about the great and mighty Emrys. Everyone is such a gossip. Merlin is trying not to have a heart attack. Lancelot is loving life.~

#merthur #fic recs #merlin x arthur

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oswinsdolma · 2 years ago

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also not to hijack this post, but there's something that just fucks so incredibly hard about how arthur never knew his mother, and never really knew who he was meant to be. he grew up, being moulded into an artefact of his father's legacy, because that's what uther believed ygraine was. he took her memory and fashioned it into a perverse excuse for genocide, and he took arthur's innocence and tainted it with that same twisted logic, turning into a version of himself that melted away as his perceptions of his mother changed. yet merlin grew up with a mother who was kind, compassionate and extraordinarily brave, yet could not and never would understand him, and that's what merlin became. he was raised to always look to his humanity above all else, to do what is right and fuck the rules, but at his core, he was still deeply, incurably lonely. because no matter how deeply he knew his mother, he didn't fully know himself.

but then, merlin and arthur met. the man who was too much of his mother, and the man who was not enough, and they saw what they needed in each other: arthur took how to be human, and merlin how to be a legend, and they grew around each other like vines around a tree. maybe the reason arthur acted like such an arse at the start was because he was meant to be a version of his mother, only the version uther had constructed of her was untouchable and above criticism, which is what arthur thought he was. and similarly, merlin entered camelot as the version of his mother who stood up for justice, thwacked bandits across the face with a broom and harboured illegal children. but he never saw the quiet version of her that she had buried with the memory of balinor; the version that was quietly defiant, tortured, and completely and utterly secret to anyone but herself. arthur enters the story as a corrupted mirage of another man's dead dreams, and ends it as a king who learned the value of kindness and defying the law for the sake of goodness; and merlin began as a reckless child overflowing with unchecked love and confusion, and left it as an enigma, who had learned the meaning of sacrifice.

in essence, that's a very long winded way of saying that arthur and merlin become the parts of their mothers they never got to see for love of one another, but they also become parts of each other. two sides of the same coin indeed. and proof that op is right: hunith and ygraine together would simply be too powerful.

I find it deeply aesthetically pleasing, character-wise, that Arthur and Merlin are both very much like their mothers, which is especially meaningful in Arthur's case since he's never known his mother beyond a single painfully brief meeting in "Sins of the Father."

Not only does Arthur look like Ygraine (which adds several layers to the clusterfuck of his and Uther's relationship) but it's clear that he takes after her temperament, too. Yes, he sometimes shows his father's temper, and yes, he does stupid things when he's in a temper, but unlike Uther, who literally took his prejudices to his grave and beyond, Arthur never stays mad at people, and he's overall a far more caring and kind person than his father, which is an interesting case of nature vs nurture.

And then on the other hand, we have Hunith, who told a mounted, armed brigand to go fuck himself, later fought another (also armed) brigand with a twig broom, harboured fugitives on multiple occasions, and raised an illegal magic child out of wedlock, and Merlin "Fuck the Police" Ambrosius, who got in a fistfight, got thrown in jail for the fistfight, called the prince a bitch to his face in a public market square, got in a second, armed fight all within his first 48 hours in Camelot, and then committed treason on a daily basis for the next 10+ years, compared to Balinor, who became a weird antisocial hermit that lived in a cave for twenty years.

couldn't have said it better myself bestie

also, there's a reason hunith and ygraine never met in the show. their dynamic duo would outshine everyone, they'd be unstoppable, untouchable, I FEEL ROBBED

#merlin #bbc merlin #merlin meta #analysis posting and it's not midnight???#damn #sorry anyways this made me go feral and feel things and i wouldn't have had room in the tags i hope this is okay #EXCELLENT anaysis btw

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arthurslesbian · 2 years ago

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bro imagine how impactful it would be if nimueh had torn the veil and when arthur came to the isle of the blessed to repair it she told him the truth about his birth?

#like she's such an important character and she really was taken far too soon #i feel that way about balinor and tristan too like these are so important characters they should've been around for a little bit longer!#well maybe i just want uther to die at tristan's hand but i digress #like it would've made so much sense?? especially if like she had some way to show him #like maybe if she could summon ygraine or use a crystal #or something!#it would've been so cool #i just want arthur to know the truth 😭

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witchmd13 · 2 years ago

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I’ve always wanted to write my version of what I think happened to the older camelot generation. I was just always lost on the format because I know neither my English nor writing skills would survive such a lengthy fanfic.

I figured it out. now I have a series. I started it with Ygraine and nimueh because they’re what my brain is fixated on right now. Gaius, Tristan, balinor, uther, and even agravaine, Viviane and gorlois are going to make an appearance. I have so many ideas about them that have been in my brain for too long. The first 2 fanfics are on ao3 which I’m linking here. the series is not getting a lot of momentum. Maybe it’s my writing or the fact that no one’s interested lmao or probably both but anyway I’m going to keep on with it because I am really enjoying it. Just thought I’d make a PSA in case someone likes my writing and might be interested.

#I’ll stop now that I’ve embarrassed my self enough lol #Merlin #Merlin bbc #older camelot generation

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igniferrus · 8 months ago

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I think part of what gets me is the imbalance. Merlin is allowed to have his secrets. They keep him safe and alive. Except then this starts to extend to secrets that he really doesn't need to keep, or aren't his business to keep.

Does he really need to keep it a secret that Balinor is his father? Maybe! It's a personal choice, and he's allowed to, but then he cannot expect a high level of sympathy from Arthur. (Not that "no man is worth your tears" is Arthur being nasty or insensitive, it's actually the opposite. He's warning Merlin not to grieve him; he's a knight, dying for his kingdom is what he's meant to do. That's why Arthur tells Merlin this in the context of advice from Uther. ANYWAY).

When Gaius confirms that it was magic that brought about Arthur's birth and Ygraine's death - in whatever fashion it truly happened - Merlin should not have covered for Uther. I don't agree that Arthur should have killed his father then, for political and characterisation reasons, but that his mother. Uther, Gaius, Merlin, everyone is wrong for refusing to give this boy the truth about her. I know Uther would never, because it would affect how much Arthur would believe in his crusade, but others... don't hate magic; they gain nothing by continuing the lie.

ALSO Merlin should have told Morgana about her magic. Again, not his secret to keep, and she was clearly beyond the point where suppressing it was enough. She was lighting fires in her sleep. Her lack of education was now a danger to herself and others; she deserved to know why.

And, in the other direction, Merlin Master Of Secrets refuses Arthur the same courtesy. Where are you sneaking off to, Arthur? You have to talk to me about Gwen's betrayal, even if you're not ready or willing. Why didn't you tell me about Mithian's visit, even if you wanted to keep it confidential? What have you got under the fruit bowl, the Horn of Cathbhadh? Why? Can I come too?

I understand that Merlin is the main character. I understand that his destiny is by Arthur's side. But I stand by the idea that if Merlin had trusted Arthur a little more (not even with his magic, though that would be ideal!) then they could have operated as equals, as true sides of the same coin, and it would have been easier and required less "protecting" and more advising on Merlin's part.

And, for the record. I am completely with Arthur on the reveal - it's not so much the magic, which he accepts fairly quickly despite all he's been through - asking to see it and telling Merlin not to change - but the lies that get him. Imagine your first and only true friend (something Arthur SAYS), who you couldn't bear to lose, who you only met when you were a full-blown adult, who dissected you, peeled you open and dug out every little bit of your soft and vulnerable insides, who you love more than anything, has been lying to your face the entire time. About so much. You don't even know how much. Betrayal, after betrayal, you father, sister, uncle, comrades. And finally, Merlin, who you thought you could trust completely. Brutal.

You know what, Arthur shouldn't be mad at Merlin for not telling him about his magic BECAUSE PEOPLE COME OUT THEN THEY READY, and in the show he was forced to come out at the end

You can't be mad at the person who didn't come out sooner, they had their reasons

#I'm rambling #sorry for jumping on your post like this.#but i have so many opinions about this #I love Merlin.#I don't think he was wholly wrong for what he did.#He deserves to be safe in a prejudiced society #but he takes it too far #he makes Morgana UNSAFE by not allowing her the tools HE uses to protect himself #he (my opinion) violates arthur's autonomy by deliberately withholding key information he knows will affect arthur's decision #like. the simpleton episode is only the most egregious of Merlin's puppeteering #and I say that knowing that Merlin only wanted what was best for Arthur. Not Albion at the end. For Arthur.#But the road to hell is as they say paved with good intentions #and yes #Usual disclaimer that I know they had to absolutely nerf King Arthur to make Merlin the protagonist of the show #that was a very deliberate creative choice #But I am a arthur pendragon girlie first and foremost #I will defend him in everything.#I will always champion for him #again sorry spring-hurts for yapping #anyway arthur is honest brave and true and values those traits in the people around him

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thisisamerlinonlyevent · 3 years ago

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omg yall i just thought of something. so. nimueh was part of uthers court once upon a time right? and balinor, merlin’s father, too i think, or at least uther knew of him or smth. ive always imagined that uther, balinor, ygraine and nimueh were very good friends so even if im wrong and it doesnt go with canon idc its canon here. so nimueh and balinor knew each other. im gonna say they do.

can you imagine if nimueh, after ygraines death, wanted to seek out balinor since he was the only other magic user at the time that would understand the betrayal and tragedy of it all (also to maybe seek revenge on uther but she knew balinor wasnt the fighting type so that would be more of a bonus than anything else).

so she tries to follow his steps after he’s been exiled n shit and it leads to a little village called ealdor. its been years now since ygraine has died and nimueh is almost gonna give up on her search when she sees a very beautiful and sweet woman leave a humble home, few months pregnant. and nimueh, being a powerful high priestess and what not, looks at the belly and her magic goes “BALINOR!!! BALINOR WAS THERE!! ALSO THAT FETUS HAS IS POWERFUL AS FUCK SHIT-”

so. she befriends hunith. and at first its just like ‘oh yes im lost i need a place to stay, want a friend? i can help with the chores and the farming ofc you are pregnant after all’ and hunith accepts and nimueh is all like ‘HAHAHA FOOL! im only here to see the baby and know abt balinor idgaf abt you woman hehehehe’

but months pass and hunith is a very nice woman, also sassy and witty, and so soft but determined and resilient and smart but humble, and she blushes so easily and her eyes are so blue and they look magical under the stars and her cheeks are so very round, her hair is so soft and she looks so good when she veils and leaves some strands out, it frames her face really well and- nimueh is very gay for hunith basically

then merlin is born and nimueh is like ‘ah yes merlin ofc ofc not emrys- WHAT whos that??? NOBODY no!! what a normal bby!!’ and then merlin almost sets the kitchen on fire with magic and nimueh has to put it out with magic as well. and its all fine n dandy until nimueh remembers she never told hunith abt her magic cuz of the ban and now shes panicking, she doesnt want to go shes never had a home, camelot was it for a while but that leaves her bitter and oh no oh god-

and while hunith is trying to put merlin to sleep she’s just like “oh yh i knew who you were from the start!! balinor told me abt you, he described you very well and even said you were following him so i shouldnt be alarmed if i saw you, and yes i know he’s a dragonlord and you a high priestess :) i just didnt tell you because i wanted you to do so on your own terms” and nimueh almost jumps this woman on god but she is holding a baby so yknow

but now nimueh remembers why she was even there in the first place. and because she doesnt want to lie to hunith, she does believe in loyalty and balance, she tells her what merlin is, who he is, and that he will need a teacher. hunith says gaius but nimueh refused immediately, gaius is in camelot and has led himself to believe what uther has told everyone, that magic is evil and dangerous, merlin needs a better teacher. hunith understands and trusts nimueh but feels like balinor deserves to see his son. nimueh is just like ‘sure yh whatever, im only going if u go with me tho so yknow’ and hunith is already packing her shit like hurry up nimueh damn

so you these two women with fucking bby merlin searching for balinor, following his cold af trail, and nimueh is very much ignoring her feelings like a girlboss because she assumes hunith wont ever love her and besides she still loves balinor, where does nimueh fit into the picture huh??? nowhere so shes happy to be merlins teacher (she keeps getting emrys and merlin jumbled up and its very embarassing when she goes em- mer- em- AGHHH- MERLIN!! hunith just laughs at her)

hunith is very much attracted to nimueh but she needs to know more abt her like her hobbies, her fav color, fav fruit or flower, what she thinks of the stars, what she thinks of balinor or uther, if she likes dragons etc.

their journey is very tense for various reasons. first: merlin and his magic is a huge danger to them considering the ban; second: they keep hearing news abt dragons and dragonlords being killed off, which doesnt bode well for them at all; third: nimueh is still a high priestess and she has duties and also a lot of power which attracts all sorts of attention from magic users hoping for refuge agaisnt the ban and she cant do much in her situation, so she helps little and just hopes they wont die horribly; fourth: their destination gets them in forest quite a lot which besides being a very dangerous place in general, theres also tons of druids who come and swaddle merlin, who very much doesnt like that and gets upset, which makes hunith upset, which turns nimueh angry and she swears them off each time. so theyre not having an easy trip

but two years later, they do find balinor. he’s the last dragonlord, theres very few dragons left, and merlin is still very powerful. and the ladies are very much still very good friends (AHEM). balinor is fucking confused, nimueh starts to explain her plan to overthrow uther, both hunith and balinor are agaisnt her on that front, shes very surprised and appalled and kinds upset ngl and it has nothing to do with her unresolved issues with being the reason why the ban exists in the first place and the reason why her lover ygraine died (YES i think ygraine and nimueh fucked and were in love, uther knew ofc ygraine aint no cheat)

balinor then gets very focused on his son merlin (”hes so small!! hunith!! hes small!!” “yes ik darling, he is a 2 year old, anyways, nimueh your anger is valid but you shouldnt fight fire with fire it doesnt end well!! it might burn bright and warm in the moment but when it dims and you see its destruction and death, will it be worth it? are you willing to risk your people for the sake of temporary pleasure and revenge? how many actions that mirror uther’s own will you make until you realize your mistakes? wasnt it thinking only abt the present and not thinking ahead what led to ygraines death and the ban??” “well damn hunith i am feeling too many emotions at the moment but i wont cry in front of you cuz i think its a show of weakness and i dont want to think abt your words too deeply lest i have a mental breakdown and go into a big depression so i will exit this cave dramatically and lie and say that it would be worth killing uther for the price of a few lives since thats exactly what he did” “dada!!” thats merlin there at the end btw)

so yh nimueh leaves for a bit n shit, hunith is very upsetti, balinor is like “damn should i get involved?........ sigh id do anything for hunith, aight” and they talk for hours abt it, merlin between them being cute and hunith cried thinking that she went to far with nimueh and shell never come back now, but balinor thinks she needed to hear some harsh words and even her feelings wont change abt uther, she wouldnt ignore hunith like that (he knows btw, he has eyes and hunith looks at nimueh like she does at balinor so. yknow. hes gonna help that cuz he loves hunith), and balinor decides to reminisce on the good old days, and he tells her embarassing stories of nimueh and uther, and gaius being the oldest and so tired, and how amazed they all were when nimueh was officially a high priestess and how in love ygraine and nimueh were.

few days later nimueh comes back, and she says she’ll focus on teaching merlin but she’ll still try to kill uther, only uther, and she wont get any other sorcerers inovlved but first merlins education, and thats enough for balinor and hunith.

for the next few years, balinor and nimueh teach merlin all abt magic and his destiny (which theyre both very worried when it involves arthur but theyre ignoring that for now), hunith teaches merlin all abt the mundane, how to cook and sew and dance. so merlin gets 2 mothers and 1 father, and frequently mentions nimueh as mother while hunith as mum, which gets them very flustered. after a few years balinor and merlin are working together to get the two women together.

this au is so fun if anyone feels like drawing it that would be cool or whatever....

#merlin #bbc merlin #My writing #my post #what shall i name this au #2 mothers 1 father for merlin #2m1ffm #lmao

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fishoutofcamelot · 4 years ago

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As requested by @vallirenwrites, my theories as mentioned in my notes to the reblog of this post.

The question: How did Uther commit genocide against a bunch of sorcerers and also literal dragons without dying 50 times over?

It’s a valid question. If just one sorcerer could easily kill Uther, then how did he survive the height of the Purge when a whole community of sorcerers would conceivably be gunning for him at the same time? If one dragon can burn Camelot to the ground, then how could Uther have possibly fared against 100 of them?

Well, here’s one possibility: divide and conquer.

Many other people have mentioned, say, Balinor and Gaius in the notes of that post. It’s confirmed canonically that Balinor was tricked into helping Uther chain up Kilgharrah, and it wouldn’t be surprising if Gaius used his magic against his own people too.

And that’s definitely on the right track. Uther could probably only subdue magic by relying on other magic users and then betraying them. We know for a fact that he did just that with both Nimueh and Balinor, albeit for different reasons.

Many people, myself included, have theorized that the real reason Uther started the Purge was because magic is a threat to hierarchy. That is to say, letting poor people learn or at least have access to such a useful skill would equalize the power dynamics between nobility and peasantry. If a poor person has access to magic, they can resist authority. They can turn to magic for food and medicine and protection instead of relying on knights and kings. If they don’t like a king, it’s that much easier to depose the bastard. And if a peasant has magic while a noble doesn’t, then suddenly the peasant arguably has more power in that scenario.

Long story short, magic is a logistical nightmare for authoritarianism.

Resource and education management within the lower class was, if not the main reason behind the Purge, then a very beneficial side effect.

As Gaius says in episode 1 when Merlin asks him about the Purge, magic users started getting bolder. Started, according to him, doing bad stuff with it. But remember that Gaius is a noble too, probably, or at the very least he’s very chummy with a lot of them. And we know he’s at least marginally sympathetic/supportive of Uther’s cause. With the stuff about nobles in mind, we must now analyze what he meant when he said that sorcerers were using their magic for evil and that the Purge was a necessary evil to curb their chaos. Maybe they were using their magic for evil - from the perspective of a frightened noble.

So here’s how I think it happened:

Peasants started noticing that with magic on their side, they could rise up against oppressive nobles. They could start claiming some power and land for themselves. Maybe Camelot saw itself on the verge of a political revolution.

Naturally, Uther and the other nobles started to sweat. What do we do about this? Well, if they’re using magic to educate and protect themselves, just take away the magic!

I don’t think it started with a snap-and-turn illegalization of magic. A dramatic law hammering the country in an instant like that would have seen a lot more criticism and resistance. But if it happened gradually, over time, then what begins as a few restrictive policies on magic use might eventually slippery-slope into wholesale genocide.

Some nobles have magic. But even they have a vested interest in this new campaign to restrict magic from the poor. Letting poor people use magic puts them on equal footing after all, and those magic-using nobles are still nobles after all. Best to keep magic with those who deserve it - that is to say, rich people.

Uther has their support now. He uses the help of nobles and their magic to enforce and subjugate poorer magic users. Maybe they use the Gean Canagh to steal magic from a few of their more outspoken rebels. Maybe they use magic restraints of some kind, but whether those canonically exist remains unknown.

First, a sales tax is imposed on all magic items and spellbooks, which gets more expensive with every passing month. Eventually, only the wealthy can afford them.

Then, magic-users need to put their name into a registry. Refusal to enter the registry will be met with punishment.

Next, anyone whose name is in the registry needs to pay a spell-casting tax. If you take your name off the registry, you no longer pay the tax - but casting spells while unregistered will result in banishment.

After that, only certain spells can be cast without a certain permit or license, which you need to be of noble descent.

Then, crimes involving magic face harshened punishments. Torture, banishment, having your magic taken by the Gean Canagh - and in the most extreme cases, execution.

Bit by bit, magic becomes more risky to use and less accessible to the lower class, enabling the nobility to consolidate their power over the kingdom. But it doesn’t end there.

He tells the dragonlords to keep their dragons under control. Convinces them to keep them in stables instead of letting them roam free, for the sake of protecting scared villagers. Feed them less. Dragons die due from starvation, restrictive enclosures, and depression.

Then it turns more sinister. Just kill a few of your dragons, only a few, Uther says - dragons require a lot of food and land to survive, and all these dragons flying around are gonna cause a food shortage. Just kill the old and sick ones, the runts, the wasted space. Don’t hatch quite so many eggs. Don’t hatch any eggs.

All the while, Uther started a propaganda campaign. To alert the non-magical masses to be wary of their magic-using friends. They may seem innocent now, but peasants don’t have the proper education or know-how to use magic without hurting others. If you use magic too much, the power will corrupt you. And those sorcerers whose magic we stripped away? They were conspiring against the crown. They were trying to destroy the kingdom.

Now non-magical peasants don’t trust their magical companions as much as they used to. People don’t trust magic like they used to. That rebel movement everyone was so fond of a month ago? Now that’s an extremist militia of power-hungry sorcerers.

But even that isn’t enough. Nobles and peasants is a good division, but how do you keep the peasants from uniting against the upper class? Simple. You turn the peasants against each other too. And you do this by turning types of magic-users against each other. You turn religious magic-users like druids and priestesses against the more secular ones. You turn naturally gifted ones like dragonlords and seers against those who had to study for their magic.

(This part, turning the naturals against the studyers, is probably what caused such a discrepancy between narratives. Gaius tells Merlin that magic is something to be learned, while Balinor is insistent that you either have it or you don’t. Boom, now we’ve got gatekeeping in the magic community.)

All this unrest and suspicion within the kingdom begins to reach a boiling point. The nobles point to this as further evidence that peasants can’t be trusted with magic, if they’re going to be so volatile about it.

Then Ygraine dies. Whether or not it’s intentional, her death is used to perpetuate the anti-magic movement, and Nimueh is hung up as a scapegoat.

By now, many dragons are dead, and those that aren’t already dead are weak and dying. Resources to help magic-users learn and study have been restricted, so a lot of them don’t know or can’t cast the higher level stuff. Most of the powerful and rebellious magic-users have either been executed or had their magic taken away. And the magic community is so distrustful and restless that no one trusts each other enough to unite under the cause of rebellion.

After years of gradually squeezing the magic community, they are now too weak and spread too thin to lead an effective uprising. They’ve been cut off from their magical resources and spellbooks. They’ve been divided and turned against each other. Not only that, but all magic-users are in a registry, meaning Uther knows exactly who to target first.

The magic-using nobles think they’ll be spared at first, that Uther would never betray them. But the king proves himself far more ruthless than predicted, and within a week the air is clouded with smoke from noble pyres.

That’s how I think it happened, anyway. Could be totally off tho!

#yet another thrilling conspiracy theory with fish #bbc merlin #merlin bbc #merlin #bbcm #fish post

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microcroft · 4 years ago

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RIP to that one amazing merlin fic that was like from Ygraine’s point of view where she and Balinor were best friends and acted like brother and sister and they were friends with Gaius too. I remember they met while Balinor was training dragons and Ygraine thought it was cool as fuck and wanted to learn how to talk with Kilgarrah because she thought he looked lonely or something and then she would shit talk with Kilgarrah about Balinor. Hunith came to camelot at one point to work with Gaius. Ygraine met her and decided they would be best friends instantly because girls gotta stick together. After that they were this found family. Uther was still an asshole but Ygraine didn’t take his shit.

Balinor and hunith got married in camelot and Hunith got pregnant with Merlin. Ygraine talked about how desperate Uther was to have a son.

Unfortunately, it was pre-canon, despite how much Nimueh tried for like a really long time to save Ygraine, there were still complications during childbirth and she couldnt save both Ygraine and Arthur and Ygraine wanted Arthur to live (I think thats how it went down, its been a while).

then Uther just went absolutely apeshit like in canon and Balinor and Hunith ran.

I dont know if it was deleted or not I just cant find it but it was a god-tier fic and I havent been the same since i read it and it was so goddamn well written.

Balinor and Ygraine’s friendship paralleled Merlin and Arthur’s in a way and i really wanted a sequel to it where Balinor see’s his son and Ygraine’s son interacting and being best friends (maybe more) just as he and Ygraine wanted them to be despite everything that happened and gets emotional.

#Merlin #bbc merlin #merlin fic #if u know where this fic is pls send it to me #arthur pendragon #ygraine du bois #ygrain pendragon #balinor #hunith #gaius #kilgarrah #maxing out all possible tags bc i wanna reread this fic so bad

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scoooby · 4 years ago

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The Reason to Live (is to Die For This)

Read on AO3

Continue to read on Tumblr

Beta: @tenderlyannoyinglight

Word count: 6.3k

Trigger warning: descriptions of pain, death and violence.

Relationship: Merlin/Arthur *if you don't like merthur it can be taken as gen if you skip the last hundred words

Summary:

"I don't want to leave him. He thinks. I can't.

It shouldn't be the first thing he thinks of. He should be thinking of his mother, Gaius, Gwen. He should be thinking of how Kilgharrah had said he was an immortal, but Kilgharrah is also a big lying liar who lies, so he shouldn't have believed him. But he doesn't think of any of those things, after ten years of sacrificing, his brain is wired to think of Arthur, only of him."

In which Merlin is stabbed instead of Arthur. Oops.

Merlin doesn't know where the blood came from, flowing down and not stopping. There's so much of it staining the ground and his clothes, forming a puddle, he feels dizzy and nauseous looking at it. It's been almost ten years, but the sight of injury still repulses him. It scares him even more because he can't find its source. No, it terrifies him. Whose blood is it? Where is he, exactly? But he tries not to dwell on it and wonders where Arthur is. Wasn't he just here? Silly Arthur, always disappearing.

He giggles, then sobers up. He has more important things to worry about. Like the blood. Blood is so red. Like strawberries. He wishes he could make strawberries right now, Freya likes them. Speaking of which, he should probably talk to her soon.

He touches his hand to his abdomen, startled when he feels something wet and sticky. Oh.

Oh.

It's his blood. He's been maimed. He's the one dying.

I don't want to leave him. He thinks. I can't .

It shouldn't be the first thing he thinks of, and he should be thinking of his mother, Gaius, Gwen. He should be thinking of how Kilgharrah had said he was an immortal, but Kilgharrah is also a big lying liar who lies, so he shouldn't have believed him. But he doesn't think of any of those things, after ten years of sacrificing, his brain is wired to think of Arthur, only of him.

It shouldn’t be. He should be more carefree and alive and happy, like he is now. And he’s so happy.

He distantly hears a thud behind him, as if something heavy, clad in metal, had fallen. Swords are made of metal. So is armour. Stupid armour. It takes so fucking long to put armour on Arthur.

He feels hysteria rise up in his throat, he feels like laughing, He doesn’t know why. He’s been stabbed, he should care more. But those thoughts don’t even hit him. He wants to run, to jump. He could fly, like Kilgharrah. Or Aithusa. Can Aithusa fly? He would have to ask Morgana.

But Morgana doesn’t like him.

Maybe Balinor would know when dragons start to fly. He knows a lot, right?

Oh, but he can’t. Balinor is dead. Balinor is extremely dead and rotting. Hunith would be sad if she found out, he doesn’t want her to be sad. She deserves the world. He won’t tell her.

“Don’t worry,” he coos, even though there’s no one there. “I won’t tell.”

He tries to get up, but his knees are weak. He doesn't know why his ears have started to ring. Hhhhh. Hhh. That’s all he hears. It sounds weird. Weird. Weirdweirdweirdweirdweird. What a word, All words should be like it.

Everything is just a blob of grey and black. All he sees is a spinning world and green spots in the corner of his vision. He doesn’t mind, he likes green. He tries to say something, to scream maybe, yet all that comes out is a small, meagre groan.

He feels his eyes closing- And that's it. That's all there is-numbness, and then nothing.

Arthur is not ashamed to admit that he killed Mordred. The knight almost killed Merlin and dared to smile after doing so. Arthur couldn't just let him get away with it, no matter how much it pained him. Guilt doesn’t even come to mind. Mordred isn’t worth it - he tells himself as he walks, knees shaking, towards his manservant's body laying still on the ground.

He's bleeding at an alarming rate. His eyes are closed; his face deathly pale. Arthur doesn't bother with modesty as he rips the stupid brown jacket off (one would think he would come into battle wearing proper armor, at least). He had imagined doing it many times before, in entirely different circumstances, maybe with a bed underneath them.

Merlin torso is littered with scars as wood is with lines. Most of them are healed, so that only white lines are painting Merlin’s pale skin, while others are red, but still no cause for intervention. An enormous hole inflicted near his lungs, however does. Arthur’s not new to blood or injuries, but looking at this one does make him wanna vomit.

He stops, unsure of what to do. His hands hover over the body. What can he do, dammit? He knows first aid, Gaius taught him some when he was little. Nothing has ever come close or as grave as to this. He has been taught to call for the help of nurses, never to do it himself. He has to stop the bleeding, but how ? He's supposed to tie something around it; he remembers that much at least. He looks towards Merlin's face, exhausted and un-moving, a red cloth loosely tied around his neck. All he has to do to stop the blood temporarily, until he delivers Merlin to safe, more medically trained hands, is to tie the stupid red neckerchief around and hope for it to be the right thing.

He prays as he puts it around the gash. He's not entirely sure who he's praying to. It’s an unconscious reflex to beg for health. To be able to say it is someone else's fault, because he knows it's his. He should never have let Merlin come in front of him; let the sword pierce him. Damn him; damn Merlin; damn Mordred; damn the War; damn Morgana; damn everything.

It sickens him, all of it. This cave, this life. The air is dirty. The metallic smell of blood engulfing everything and making it its own. Throwing up would sound like a good idea if Arthur didn’t have more pressing matter at hand.

The air also smells of disappointment. What is he even doing? He's just two years into his reign, the army is practically gone. So many knights are dying in his name, right now, with their belief in him. And now Merlin is going to die too.

No. Merlin can't die, I won't allow it. His resolve hardens as he picks him up in his arms, Merlin’s head on his shoulder, back bent so gravity can keep the blood inside. and carries him through the mass of dead bodies. Arthur places him on the horse and climbs on behind him, arms on the reins and still supporting Merlin’s head.

It's a long ride home. You have to make it. For him. Is the only thought he clings to.

The aftermath of the war lingers everywhere. Bodies within quarter of a mile of another, their sunken eyes staring at them as the ride past.

No one stops them, too busy focusing on their own injured. Arthur's head is down to not see them. They probably hate him. With all of his being, he agrees.

Morgana, from an early age, showed to be better fitted for the crown. Might have even made Camelot a better place, once upon a time, in a time long gone.

Now they're both just as terrible and ill-fitted for his home.

He tries not to think of her, it’s too painful. So, he focuses on saving Merlin again. Merlin. His best friend, who he had always hoped would become something more. His rock, the only one he could trust. Something he has proved over and over again, but something he had realised only during his father's funeral.

Uther’s death is a recent memory. Arthur had cried until there were no tears left to shed over anyone else after. Not out of love or grievance. His father’s love for him was long gone before he himself was. But because the moment Uther’s life ended, Arthur’s reign began and the feeling of no support or companionship with it. Morgana was gone. Ygraine had never been there to begin with, and the overwhelming responsibility hit him- hard . He had felt so alone. There was no one there for him. No one cared.

Then Merlin had placed a hand on his shoulder, whispered to him, told him he was going to be a great king and that he was sorry. As if Merlin was at fault. As if he wasn't the only reason Arthur was still standing.

It made him see more clearly that he might not ruin the kingdom- his kingdom. A spark of heat, mixed with joy and sorrow ignited like wildfire spread all over his chest, then back, arms and legs followed soon, and finally his face; he returned Merlin’s sentiment with a warm smile.

Maybe that's when he had fallen in love, or when he had realized that Merlin was the only one he could trust. He's still not sure which one it was, maybe the love had come slowly, or maybe, and just the seed had been planted back then, or maybe it had come fact and crashing.

And now he was going to be gone too. Arthur sighs, his eyes drooping from a week of no sleep. Everyone leaves. They always leave. Maybe he still had some tears left.

The dark is disorienting. Is he sleeping? Is he even alive? He has to be, he has to make sure Arthur gets back home.

"Emrys," he hears someone say. No, not someone- Morgana. Her voice is unmistakable, ragged and sickly sweet at the same time. She had always been like that, even before, a dizzying array of opposites.

"Witch," he whispers. "Why have you brought me here?"

The smugness in her voice is apparent, "That's very hypocritical of you, isn't it? After all, you're magical too. More than me, even." She didn't answer his question. "All alone now, aren’t you? No one to save you." He shakes his head; how did he manage to get here? The last thing he was doing was shouting at Arthur to bring him along ("I always thought you were the bravest man I knew." “That’s not fair.") Arthur's face had been so disappointed, and it had broken Merlin's heart. But if the war was still going on, then no one would be coming for him. He will have to get out of this by himself.

"What. Do. You. Want." He grits out, he doesn't have the patience, nor the time for this, he has to help them. The knights are strong, but even the strongest of human kind wouln’t last long against an immortal army. He has to be there with them, to help them, to keep them alive. No matter how much his words hurt, Merlin will still save them, because that is what he does.

She laughs. " You."

"I don't have time for games, leave me be."- turning his head around trying to locate Morgana’s voice; the darkness, the nothingness, hasn’t changed.

"Oh, but why would I do that?" Her cold hands are taking hold of his chin, nails digging into his face. She's right in front of him. Her silky dress pooling onto his feet, the edges of her dirty hair grazing his arms. "I have you right where I want you, no one is going to come to save you. I only need one thing from you." She pauses, her fingers snap; there are fires surrounding them in a circle. He struggles against the bonds of rope he didn't realize were tied onto him, but it's of no use.

She’s clearer now, seen better days too. Bags under her crazed eyes, a ragged and torn black gown, a cloak is gracing her hunched back. Frankly, it looks like she hasn’t taken a bath in months. She doesn’t even resemble the Morgana he used to know, the compassionate and cunning one.

This is his creation; he is the reason she is like this. He never should have listened to the fucking dragon, he should have told her about his magic, maybe things would be different then.

"I won't do anything for you,” he hisses. “I would rather die.”

“Oh, you will.” She says it like it’s a fact as if it’s inevitable that he will die soon, and a tremor goes from his head to his toes in a matter of a second. He’s supposed to be immortal, supposed to live for a long, long time. He’s not scared of dying, he supposes. He’s scared of what will happen afterwards. “And it will hurt, I can tell you that, it will hurt so much.” She inches even closer, impossibly so. “But that won’t be the worst part, no. The worst part will be that no one will care . Arthur won’t care. No matter what you have done for him, he won’t even notice you’re gone.”

He’s silent as her words sink in. Sow themselves into his brain, into his heart, tries to convince himself it’s not true.

“Arthur won’t rescue you. You need his help, but he doesn’t have your back. He’s not even looking for you. If you’re drowning, if you’re about to crack, will he even care?” Something on his face makes her look smug like she’s already won. “Face it, Merlin.” That’s the first time she’s called him Merlin and not Emrys since she found out. “You don’t matter to him. He thinks you’re disposable, But I know better.”

Merlin looks up at her. "You're sick," he spits, although it sounds small, unsure. "He would look for me. I know he would." The statement is more for himself than her.

She gives a small, cruel smile as if to convey to him how pathetic he is. “All I need you to do,” she continues, “is to tell me where you are once this ends.”

He's about to ask her what she means, when the fires go out and it all turns dark again.

He stops in the forest, to rest, though he's not sure if Merlin will even survive by the end of it. He lays him down against a rock and lights a fire. He has to make something to feed them, or they'll die of starvation before Morgana's knights get to them. He surveys the clearing they're in, and he's about to walk towards what he is almost sure is an edible plant (emphasis on the almost, kings don't always learn about herbs), when he hears Merlin whispers. He snaps back, his eyes are open, a once tantalizing clear blue now murky and grey.

"Arthur" he murmurs. "Art- I-"

He holds up a hand "I'm here Merlin," he says. "I'm here but don't speak, you need to preserve your energy."

He doesn't listen. "I-I need to tell you something and," he gasps, trying to breathe, "and I need you to listen without interrupting."

Arthur wants to tell him whatever he needs to say probably isn't as important as his life, but the look on his face tells him that it might be.

Merlin shudders, clearly exhausted. "I ha-have magic," he rasps. Arthur's mind goes blank. It's a joke, it has to be. Merlin can't have betrayed him too. He takes a step toward him, to reach out maybe, but thinks better of it.

"Stop being silly," he commands, but it comes out shaky.

Merlin eyes seem wet. When he opens his mouth to speak, all that comes out is a bare whisper, "I ne-needed to tell you. In, in case, I-I, uh, die."

"You can't die." He clasps Merlin shoulder this time, leaning down. "But stop delusioning yourself Merlin. You don't have magic, I would know." It's not real, he would've been able to tell. This can't be true, it can't.

"And I use it for you," he continues, seeing his expression. "Only-only for you."

"Shut up," Arthur whispers. Merlin flinches back. "Shut up, shut up, shut up."

"I-," he starts, but he cuts him off.

"Do not speak to me."

Arthur looks at him, something rising in his throat. He thought it would be bile, but it's laughter. Of course, of course, the only person he trusts has magic.

He stands up and walks away, until he's sure Merlin won't be able to see him.

Merlin’s heart sinks as he stares at Arthur’s back, she was right. He told him about his magic, and now he was leaving him to die in a forest, never mind the reason he was dying was that he had taken a sword for Arthur. Never mind that he had spent a decade protecting him, trying to stop hundreds of people from killing someone he himself hadn’t particularly cared for at the beginning. Never mind the fact that he had sacrificed so much, just so he could be comfortable living in a castle built on the sins of his father and the corpses of magic users. Ten years, all down the drain. Merlin wants to laugh, of course, it comes done to this. To Arthur abandoning him because he told him something he didn’t want to hear. Fuck him, fuck the pendragons. Couldn’t let him die in peace.

He stews in it for a while, too tired to cry. Too sick of everything to even care anymore. He won’t tell her though; couldn’t let it all go to waste. She’ll find out anyway, he knows, she has her sources.

Yet, he has more important things to focus on, Arthur will either come back, or he won’t. But his wound stays. The giddiness is gone, replaced with something else. Something warm, like a fire in his stomach.

He presses down on his abdomen. as he sighs sharply through his nose, it helps with the increasing pain, stabbing his bone and overtaking his senses.

His lungs struggle to breathe, it feels as if they’re filling with water as he drowns; his whole body burns as his back arches and writhes. It’s like there’s thousands of needles being pushed into him from everywhere, as if the needles had been pulled out from a fire before being inserted into him- red hot and painful, so painful. He wants to stand up, to run and jump into a lake, but his legs feel like jelly, he can’t move. It hurts so much. He hears distant echoes of screams; they’re probably coming from him. And just like that, it starts to ebb. The needles being pulled out hurts more, but the small burns they leave behind are definitely better than it was before. He slumps down against a tree, numb.

He feels his eyes droop. His pain is still shooting through his body, but at least he has some time before he has to feel it again.

He wakes up again in some time, not sure when. It doesn't hurt as much as it did before. He’s just tired. He lays there for what feels like hours, but the sun hasn’t even set, so it was probably a few minutes.

To his immense surprise, he comes back. Arthur… comes back.

"Come back to finish the job, huh?" Merlin snarls, refusing to believe that maybe he came back to help him because he cared for him. It's too good to be true. Arthur is compassionate and he is kind, but not to magic users. "One stab wound wasn't enough for you?"

Arthur's already been saved from the imminent death of his which has been prophesied for a few centuries already, Merlin no longer has to worry, and he doesn't want to either. If this is his reward, to be called a coward, to be ignored and hut out, what everything had been leading up to, he might as well have died years ago. He used to wake up with only Arthur in mind, He loved him, still does. He’s not going to go out any other way.

He was the reason he lived, and he is the reason Merlin is going to die.

Arthur recoils in shock, his mouth is hanging open a little.

Good , Merlin thinks, he needs a wake-up call.

"What?" He asks.

Merlin hopes his expression can convey his feelings and how unamused he is because his throat is clogged up and he's too exhausted to say a word more. He may be a warlock, but it doesn’t change the fact that he is in unbearable pain.

Arthur looks at him as if he's grown a second head. "You- you thought I was going to kill you?"

There's no reply. Arthur comes forward, stops when he sees how scared the other man becomes. He sits down onto the cold, hard ground. "Merlin," he says softly, "I, I'm angry at you, I'm not going to lie, but I would never, never kill you. I- how could you even-" he trails off, he kicks some dirt glumly. "Just, we’ll talk about this when we're back home, okay? When you're better."

Arthur doesn't know how Merlin could think that. He would never- he didn’t even imagine doing anything other than demoting him, at most. He feels betrayed, and he feels let down. But this is Merlin. If he practiced magic, there must have been a good reason.

Fuck. Has he been that bad of a friend? Has he been so distant that Merlin thought Arthur was going to kill him? He knows he should be angrier, and just a few hours ago, he was. He was ready to yell and to scream and to rage, but then he thought of Morgana. About how he used to love her, and how she changed when he turned her away, He doesn’t want the same to happen to Merlin, doesn’t want him to change too. If Merlin dies because Arthur abandons him, he will never forgive himself.

So, as he snuffs out the fire and tries to cover up his tracks, because he knows Morgana will be looking for them, he doesn’t say anything. When he picks Merlin up and places him on the horse, he tries to be as gentle as he can. When he squeezes Merlin's hand in what he hopes is comforting, he just hopes Merlin doesn’t hate him completely.

Merlin floats in and out of consciousness for what he thinks is a day, but he can’t be sure. When he first wakes up, he’s trotting along on a horse, Arthur behind him, and then he’s in front of a fire, sitting on the ground, then the horse again. Once, he wakes up to strangled screams, but he’s not sure what was going on. He’s too scared to ask. The fifth time he wakes up, however, it’s different. It’s not a coincidence, it’s on purpose, Arthur is shaking him awake. He makes out that they are next to the lake, where he has sent away so many corpses already.

It's calm and serene, obvious to all that is happening around it.

“Wha-” he starts to say blearily, he knows they haven’t reached Camelot yet, so what is going on?

Arthur silences him by placing a hand on his mouth. “We’ve got company,” he whispers. Merlin stiffens up, never a good thing. Not when you’re trekking through the woods, your companion and you both in bad conditions, both starving, one run through with a sword. Not when your companion is the ruler of kingdom which has war being waged against it.

“Arthur,” he says, his voice still sounding heavy and drowsy.

“What?” His mouth feels swollen, and he is incredibly tired, but he can tell he’s agitated, so he doesn't beat around. “Use the sword."

He looks surprised, the expression he hates. The one he uses whenever he realises that he underestimates everyone around him. "I think I know how to use a sword better than you do, Mer lin."

Prat.

"I mean, don't use your old sword, use Excalibur. It can kill anything. " Saying even this much feels like he just ran from Ealdor to Camelot without break, but he manages.

He opens his mouth to reply, but then his eyes widen. "Did you hear that?" His voice is low but urgent. Merlin blinks, he didn't hear anything other than the wind and- oh, he hears it now. There's distant screaming, coming from a woman from what it sounds like. It's barely noticeable, but the sounds of footsteps and something heavy being dragged on the forest floor towards them is much, much louder.

They exchange glances, only for a second. Merlin gestures towards the sword and Arthur nods, not questioning him for once.

Merlin tries to speak, he wants to help, but his throat is becoming clogged, and his vision is becoming blurry and- I am not going to survive. He thinks, before his eyes roll back into his head, and he passes out once more.

Arthur does not dare to say anything, or to do anything, other than stay frozen in his spot, sword in hand.

The noises are coming closer and closer. The screams have subsided now, but the steps have not. He knows he should highball out of there, but he has a feeling that whatever is coming their way cannot be outrun, and 50% of his lessons in swordplay focuses only on telling him to follow his gut.

"Emrys," says a voice. He inhales sharply, he recognizes that voice; knows it better than he has any right too.

"Morgana," he breathes.

She pouts, looking disappointed. "Seems like our Emrys isn't awake. Shame, I wanted him to see you die." She says it casually, as if she tells her once-brother that she’s going to kill him every day.

He reminds himself - this is not his sister, not the woman he grew up with. If he doesn’t kill her, she will kill him. And she will take his kingdom.

But he never meant for them to get caught up in this, he had to control himself. He can’t rush to hug her or stab her. He can see a flicker of what she used to be, the brave, young woman. He needs her to hold onto that. If she doesn’t, he will have to do it. And he really, really doesn’t want to.

But as she lunges at him, the flicker ebbs out. She has slipped through his hands, and she has changed. She has been carried away by the waves of sorcery, and it has ruined her. He remembers her being his hero when they were young, when they used to sneak out of the castle to look at the stars. Her arguing with Uther over whether it was right to commit genocide, the irony of which has stuck with him. Her teaching him to use the sword, having already mastered it herself. Her forcing him to make friends with Gwen, who grew to become his ex-lover and best friend and surrogate queen. The memories keep on coming, and they don't stop. But she, like everyone else, changed. No matter what time, she is different now. It will never come back. He wants to go back, when they were innocent and naive, when everything was left for them to discover.

But he can’t.

So he fights back instead.

It's all he can do to make his hands steady as his blade sinks into her stomach, as he buries it deeper and deeper until it comes out on the other side. She looks surprised, then grim. She'll be alive for a few days, at most, a few minutes, at best.

But he can't bear to leave her suffering, alive but dying, tortured. So, he stabs her again, this time aiming for the heart, and again. And again. And again. When he is sure that she's dead, he stops, sliding onto his knees. He glares at the sword in contempt. He killed her; he killed his sister.

No .

He killed the woman who wanted to burn his kingdom to the ground. He had no other choice.

But what sort of person is he? He's killed both his knight and his former sister on the same day, with the same sword.

He grips it harder, then looks at the lake. He needs to get rid of it, that's what he needs to do. No one can find out what happened today, he can't let them. He raises it and throws it in. He had thought it would land on the banks, considering how heavy it is, but it doesn't. Instead, the sword flies out of his grip, and cuts through the air, towards the lake. He swears he can see a hand reaching out of the water to catch it, but it's probably a trick of the light.

He turns to her body laid on the ground, eyes open and unblinking, mouth looking as if gasping for breath, cloak sprawled around her like wings. She's dead.

Somehow, he knows if he had used the other sword, she would not be; he knows enough about magic to realise that the high priestess cannot be taken down by a normal weapon.

But Excalibur was not normal, was it? Just another thing to add to his list of questions.

It takes him thirty more minutes to dispose of her body in the lake, staring as it sinks deeper into the water. He doesn't look away, no. He deserves this. He has to remember, and he will.

He doesn't move for a long, long time. Only goes so when he realizes that, although she is dead, Merlin is not yet. Arthur intends to keep it that way. He turns his back on her. Every step drains him, but he does it.

He can't be left alone again.

It takes them two more days to arrive in Camelot. All of it passes in awkward silence, with Merlin getting paler and paler with every passing second. Arthur doesn’t say anything out loud, but his mind is racing. He doesn’t think of them. He can’t. So he focuses on magic instead. He’s not sure if he trusts magic fully, even now, but maybe he should be more open-minded. Maybe he should give it a chance. Maybe it'll be different than it was with Morga- her.

When he arrives, it is completely different to what he had expected. There are mourners, of course. People in white, downcast expressions, closed windows, doors painted black. But there are also red banners hanging everywhere, citizens cheering as he rides past, ignoring Merlin behind him. Cries of "she is dead" and "the war is over". People are grieving, and there are those celebrating. He doesn't ask how they know of her death, he doesn't want to know. They tell him anyway. Apparently, the army stopped attacking, all of a sudden. They had cried, and shouted, and had turned back. It is unclear why, but Arthur knows he is the reason. Morgana dying at his hands is the reason.

Some help him get to Gaius', seeing how unamused he looks. They clear out the road, offer them water. Arthur is grateful for them, glad that at least some of his people acknowledged the dying man and had tried to help.

The physician is busy when he throws the door open, Merlin in tow. There are many, many people here. All with varying degrees of injuries. Arthur can’t bear to look at them. It’s his fault. It’s all his fault. So he ignores them, marches up to him.

“He’s- he’s been stabbed,” he chokes out.

Gaius’ eyes widen, and he rushes to follow Arthur. He lays Merlin out on one of the few empty beds, his body sprawls out on it. It’s sickening to look at as if he’s dead already.

He sets to work immediately, ordering Arthur to fetch herbs and vials and all sorts of things he doesn’t know the uses of. The people around them stare at him blankly, as if they know he’s the king, but they don’t fully recognise him.

He knows when he is not needed anymore, and backs away to watch. It's odd, and it feels so wrong. It's wrong to watch as Merlin is cut open and healed. Like he's invading his privacy. Merlin deserves better than to be put on a show in front of so many people.

He does try to help. Tries to tell as many people as he can to move to the castle, where he is sure more doctors would be willing to help, but some are in too bad of a condition to be moved as they are tended to by nurses. So he elects to focus on his friend instead.

Gaius' hands have always been steady, for as long had Arthur had known him. He cuts open bodies without worry, without even flinching. Which is not the case today, he notices. No, his hands are shaking. Not much as to be obvious, but he's known the man for far too long to not be able to tell when he's scared.

He thinks Merlin is going to die .

Arthur recoils violently. He doesn't know where the thought came from, because it's not true. It can’t be.

Merlin is going to survive. He tells himself.

Merlin. Is. Going. To. Survive.

Merlinisgoingtosurvive

MerlinisgoingtosurviveMerlinisgoingtosurvuveMerlinisgoingtosurvive

He repeats under his breath, rocking himself back and forth on his heels until he almost believes it. He has to.

He's not sure where the time has passed, because Gaius is in front of him all of a sudden but Arthur remembers him standing over the table just seconds ago.

Gaius shakes his head and it takes a few minutes for it to register in his mind. Arthur can't be looking at him, and his heartbreaking face. Just like him, Gaius' only support was Merlin. Was. Not is, was. Merlin is barely dead, and Arthur is already starting to think of him as a memory.

The physician knows what it feels like, but Arthur doesn't care.

"You should've done better," he hisses. He doesn't regret it. Doesn’t regret causing the shock he’s caused Gaius. But it's his fault too. He's the one Merlin took a sword for. But he needs to blame someone else. Because he doesn't want to think of the implications of Merlin dying at his hands. Gaius looks at him as if he is about to break, so Arthur walks away. From him, towards the corpse. He can't bear to face another person he's hurt.

It can't be true. There's got to be something he can do, something. He can't die, he can’t fucking die. Not when there's not much left to say. Not when they've just won. It's supposed to be a thing to celebrate, a war ending, he can't mourn. He can't give a speech to his kingdom which wasn't written by his best friend. Can't lose him. He doesn't think he'll be able to live without him.

He doesn't want to. He won't.

Merlin looks too much at peace, content in a way Arthur hasn't seen him in a long time. His long lashes casting shadows onto his freckled skin, his lips are twisted into a scowl, but he is at peace. He still looks the same, though. Beautiful and striking. Arthur's rock.

And dead.

Arthur’s hands move at their own accord, to stroke the side of his face. A sob escapes him before he can stop it, pushing through his throat. His people need assurance, and him crying like a bloody fool won't help. But that's the last thing on his mind. All he knows is Merlin is dead.

He isn’t able to stop staring, can't help wondering what he will do now. Whether the body will be burned or buried. He will be given a hero's funeral, it's no less than he deserves. He will be clothed in Camelot’s colours, or maybe his Ealdor's. Hunith would know better.

Oh lord, Hunith. She will have to find out through a letter. No. Arthur will have to go to tell her. He can't let her go through it alone.

He's about to turn away, to tell someone to help him move the body when his lips move.

Merlin's mouth opens, just a little bit, but enough to tell that he's alive.

Arthur feels a shock go through him. It was just an illusion.

Right?

"Merlin?" he asks. It can't be true, no matter how much he wants it to be. It was probably a trick of the light, but that can't be right. Because Merlin's eyes are opening and he's staring at him and some colour is returning to his cheeks and oh-

This the man he loves. And he waking up.

"Ar- Arth," he begins but Arthur shushes him. He’s alive, he’s speaking. He doesn’t know how, but it’s real. It’s actually real.

"I'm here," he assures him "I'm here." He shocks even himself as he leans down to kiss him. He's even more surprised when Merlin kisses him back. It only lasts a second before he pulls back, but he just kissed Merlin. It was rough, it wasn't perfect. But he's breathing. They're both here. He can't ask for more.

"Wha- what was," he exhales through his nose, as if speaking taxes him, "that for?"

"I wanted to," he says, shrugging, still not over the euphoria. He just lost him, he’s never going to again. The least he can do is not hide from the truth. "And, I, I also kind of love you. Like, I’m in love with you."

His eyes widen a fraction, but Arthur can tell he’s too tired to question it further.

He wants to say more, he has so many questions as to how he's still breathing, when he started practicing magic, why, but he doesn’t. He has time, they have all the time in the world.

He turns his back, yelling for Gaius. The physician shows up immediately, face lighting up when he takes in the sight of his son very much not-dead.

"We'll figure it out," he says, though he's not sure he heard him over the noise. "We'll figure it out." He grins. Yeah, they'll figure it out.

He swears, Merlin is beaming right back at him.

51 notes · View notes

a-small-batch-of-dragons · 4 years ago

Note

Merlin prompt for you, if you take requests. Thanks! — Merlin is Arthur’s long lost twin (neither of them knew) and at birth, before she died, Ygraine begged a servant to send Merlin far away to protect him from Uther. Hunith ended up finding Merlin on her doorstep and the rest is history- cue the boys discovering this together!

Thanks for the prompt, babe! I had fun with it!

Read on Ao3

Pairings: Merlin/Arthur, can be platonic or romantic you decide

Warnings: Uther’s a dick, other than that, not much

Word Count: 3138

Uther should’ve known what he was getting himself into. When he opened his hand and his heart, for perhaps the last time, and made that choice to weave magic into his family irrevocably. He should have known that there was a risk, a risk that he would not get exactly what it is he so desperately wanted. A risk that the perfect, golden heir he desired wouldn’t be his.

But then that golden crown of hair had emerged and Uther forgot. The babe was placed into his arms and he smiled down at the little thing, ignoring the drool seeping into his gloves, ignoring the way the baby whined and squirmed, because he had an heir.

“Arthur,” he had breathed, settling the babe back into the nurse’s arms, “Arthur.”

And he had swept down the corridor.

Ygraine had still lain on the bed, in pain. The nurses had widened their eyes in alarm when it started again.

Another babe emerged, whining in Ygraine’s arms, dark hair, and golden eyes.

Arthur, even as small and new to the world as he was, had reached out chubby arms toward the now weeping babe, trying to wrap his arms around the little one, try and hold him close. The dark-haired babe had nestled in Ygraine’s arms, not quite awake, not quite asleep, but glowing. Just enough to make Arthur sigh when the nurse holding him finally caved and brought him over to lay a fat-fingered hand on the other’s arm.

Ygraine cradled her babes to her chest and knew that Uther would only have the one.

“Send for Balinor,” she had said, “he’ll know what to do.”

Balinor did. The Dragonlord knew the price of asking for such a huge magical favor. The arrival of the second babe was the remainder of the magic, knowing it could not remain in Ygraine’s body.

“You must take him,” Ygraine had said, even as she clutched the dark-haired babe in her arms, “you must take him far away from Uther and farther away from here. He’s got your hair. People will believe. You’ve a wife, don’t you?”

Balinor had taken one look at his Queen, at the twins in her arms, at the magic the curled impossibly close around the two of them. He had warned her that already, the magical bond between the two of them was stronger than they could know, and he could not hope to break it without causing irreversible damage to the twins.

“I don’t want you to break it,” Ygraine had said, the stoic resolution of the Queen already coloring her tone again, “I want you to make them safe.”

Balinor could not refuse his Queen.

The dark-haired babe had whimpered as they gently separated the two of them, Arthur already calling out in dismay, as Balinor swaddled the babe in a proper cloth before cradling it snugly in his arms.

“You realize,” Balinor had murmured, “it is unlikely you will see me again.”

“You have been a faithful and true servant to the realm for as long as I can remember,” Ygraine had said, “even more so than I can tell. You will continue to do so, I know, even without me asking.”

Balinor had bowed his head low, and the Queen had breathed her last breath.

He had left Camelot at first light, the babe curled in his arms. His heart had not left his throat until he climbed off his horse into the arms of the woman he loved.

Hunith had taken the babe into her arms and called him her own.

Balinor had not been able to stay. They both knew this. He remained long enough for the magic of the child to make them both nothing more than weeping parents, together for only a moment longer, before Hunith was left alone, the babe in her arms, the magic swirling in delicate golden tendrils around them.

————————————————

Arthur lies in his bed, the servants awaiting his every move to offer him a drink, a toy, some food, anything he could need. And they’re supposed to know everything, right? That’s why they’re here, to know what he needs.

But he doesn’t want toys. The toys don’t feel right against his hands all the time, even though they’re of the most high-quality materials coin can by, even though they’re taken away to be dutifully scrubbed within an inch of their toy little plush lives every time Arthur so much as gets dust on them. His hands itch sometimes like they need to be touching something, but nothing ever feels right.

He wants something soft, something warm, something that tingles slightly under his palm. He wants something warm that curled around him, let him run his still clumsy fingers through its fur, or hair, something that could hold him back.

He asked for it a couple of times but the servants don’t know what he wants.

He’s not so sure he does either.

————————————————

Merlin lies in his bed, with his mother’s arms wrapped around him. He worries the edge of his blanket between his fingers, cupping it around his cheeks and rubbing it against his face. This is his favorite piece of fabric and he struggles to fall asleep when he doesn’t have it.

When he doesn’t have it, his mother’s arms feel strange when they hold his tightly. They feel too big, too large, too weathered for him, and he doesn’t know why. She smells wrong, too. She smells like home, yes, but she doesn’t smell like home. Merlin misses something, maybe he misses a lot, but he doesn’t miss how sometimes he’ll tuck his little head into the crook of his mother’s shoulder and his nose will wrinkle because the sweet smell of spice and oats and salt isn’t what he expected.

Maybe that’s why he wants that blanket so badly. His mother says he came wrapped in it, the last thing from his father before he had to go away. The blanket smells different. It smells sweet, yes, but a different kind of sweetness. It smells of some kind of fruit, something the tingles the end of Merlin’s nose, and something slightly spiced, too. Merlin clutches the blanket tighter. The smell’s going away, it’s getting fainter every night.

Merlin doesn’t know where to go to make it smell right again.

————————————————

Arthur runs about the castle, dodging the guards and tucking himself into one of the archways.

“Sire!” Ugh. “Sire, we’ve talked about this, you have to stop running away!”

“You have to stop chasing me,” Arthur mutters under his breath, scampering down the opposite hallway.

His face splits into a grin when he finally spots the window to the training grounds. Glancing around, he jumps through, landing and rolling, not caring about the dirt that sprays up around his boots.

The wind ruffles his hair and coaxes this way.

A joyful yell rips through the air as Arthur sprints the length of the field, not a knight in sight, just the blood pumping in his veins, into his cheeks, flushing his face as he smiles so hard he thinks it might split. He imagines a figure ahead of him, throwing playful insults over its shoulder, playfully pulling him further away from the castle, from the guards, goading him to keep up. He grins and pours on the speed. They won’t get away this time!

His arms and legs ache by the time he reaches the other end of the field. His lungs are on fire. He hunches over, panting, even as the air protests, scraping his throat. He imagines the other figure right next to him, panting through breathless laughter. Arthur imagines making one last swipe, finally snagging the other’s tunic and pulling them close, never letting go.

“I’ve caught you,” he would pant, “now you have to stay.”

Instead, all he gets are the yells from the guards.

————————————————

Merlin waves his hand and the leaves swirl up, dancing around him in the forest. Delighted giggles accompany the rustling as they drift slowly back and forth, caught up in an inescapable breeze. One of them smacks him lightly across the face and he stumbles backward, falling smack onto his rear in the massive pile he’s amassed. He almost sinks all the way to the ground.

He flails, sweeping leaf after leaf aside until he’s lying there, still giggling, almost making snow angels in the leaves. They crinkle under his collar and his head, little bits finding their way into his hair and clinging persistently. His magic chuckles, reaching out to stroke the pieces away.

Merlin’s giggles trail off as his magic works. He hasn’t figured out how to make this person real yet. The person who will always come play with him, who will jump and dance about like he wants to. He almost remembers them, almost, remembers a person who will pull him to his feet when he needs help, will fuss over him, and make sure he’s all clean and safe.

He still finds himself reaching for them sometimes, to help them up or for their hand to get himself to his feet. He thinks he sees them behind him sometimes, just out of the corner of his eye, a flash of gold. He thinks that if he were a little better at controlling his magic, maybe they’d be real.

“Come on, Merlin,” they’d say, still holding his hand, “let’s go explore this part of the woods! Don’t be scared, I’ll protect you!”

Instead, all he gets are leaves fluttering around him and the wink of golden magic.

————————————————

Princes aren’t supposed to get angry like this. Uther’s stony face glares at him even as Arthur tries to splutter his way through his rage, explain why it isn’t fair that he doesn’t get to train with Morgana anymore. Morgana is good, even though he’d never say that to her face, she’s good and she could be better and it’s not fair that his father is trying to take away the only decent sparring partner he’s had in ages.

But Uther is firm and slams a fist down onto the table, saying that his word is final and Morgana will not be allowed to train anymore.

Arthur doesn’t throw a tantrum, because princes don’t throw tantrums, but he does loudly explain that he thinks his father is wrong, and Morgana won’t be happy about this and then Uther will have to explain it to her, why he doesn’t think she should be allowed to train. Morgana will cry—because she knows Uther has a weakness for that—and then Arthur will have to watch Morgana cry and Arthur doesn’t want to see Morgana cry.

He wants to train with Morgana. He wants Morgana to be happy. He wants someone to be here to back him up.

He wants to just know that there��s something behind him, someone behind him, and always will be. Someone else in the big empty hall, where Uther’s every movement rings out like a thunderclap, where it’s not just him and the guards he knows won’t do anything to stop their king.

He wants to look behind him and catch the eye of someone who cares, someone who will stand by his side and behind him for as long as he needs. He wants to feel the tingle of another presence in the room, a silent witness to whatever happens that it happened, that Uther can’t just turn around and decide this didn’t happen, that it did, that Arthur is right, and that he has a right to be angry.

But Morgana isn’t here. There’s no one else here.

So Arthur raises his chin and faces his father alone.

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Merlin hates that he cries when he’s angry.

It’s the worst. The fat horrible tears that bubble up in his eyes and roll down his cheeks are just making it worse, the jeers and cackles from the other boys making them come faster and faster. He balls his fists until his nails bite into his palms and he tries to steady his voice as much as possible, say give it back, that’s mine, you can’t have it.

The big boys just laugh and smash the pumpkin into the ground, shattering it completely. They stomp on it a few times for good measure before stalking off, their noses in the air, their cackles still raging in Merlin’s ears.

He hates them. He falls to his knees and tries to cobble the pumpkin back together but it’s too late. It’s destroyed. It’s gone. He won’t get his pumpkin back.

He wanted to give it to Will. Will, who was too tired to come to the patch this morning. Will, who asked for a pumpkin that they could carve together, because that’s their tradition, they do it every year, and eat the roasted seeds that Merlin’s mother makes as she laughs at their pulp covered clothes.

But now it’s gone.

Merlin glares through watery eyes at the retreating backs of the boys. Oh, how he wants someone here with him, someone who would take one look t his tears and storm after them, knock their heads together, who doesn’t cry when he gets upset.

He wants someone who could stand when Merlin can’t, who could scold the other boys into submission and give them all a good fight if they didn’t get the hint. He wants someone who could come back, panting but still unbruised, and gently help Merlin up, maybe to go find a new pumpkin. He wants someone to be here to tell him it’s alright.

But Will isn’t here. There’s no one else here.

So Merlin gathers up the broken pieces of pumpkin alone.

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Arthur huddles in his bed, clutching a pillow to his chest, all his curtains drawn, the covers pulled all the way up.

He doesn’t like it when these lords come to visit. They scare him. He’s not supposed to be scared by them but he is.

He doesn’t like the way they look at everything. Like they don’t care about the people that work so hard just to survive. Like Uther is just some pawn in their own games, like Arthur isn’t worth more than a cursory evolution.

He doesn’t like how they change his father. How Uther grows colder, if that’s even possible, how he smiles and it looks like he has too many teeth. How he looks at Arthur like Arthur’s some sort of dog that needs to perform all its tricks to be rewarded with a brisk pat at the end of the night.

So he fakes a cough and gets Gaius to bring him a sleeping potion and curls up, safe in the warmth of his chambers, where no one will come in.

Arthur tightens his grip on the pillow, curling in on himself until he hates the way his legs rub together and sweat makes his skin grow slick. He hates this. He hates this.

He wants the person that went away to come back.

He knows now that there was someone. The older servants, the older nurses, they always exchange a glance whenever they talk about his mother, his birthday. He asked one of them once, if he had a sibling, and they gave him an answer.

It wasn’t a ‘yes,’ but it may as well have been.

He wants them to come back.

He wants someone in this bed with him, curling up to, muring assurances to two frightened boys that they’re both gonna be okay. He wants someone he can protect, to curl himself around and reassure himself that they won’t touch this one, they can’t destroy everything, there’s still something that can be saved.

A low whimper escapes unbidden and Arthur curls even tighter. In the dark, the strands of thread from the pillow almost feel like hair. Dark hair, nestled under his chin, curling into his embrace. He pictures sharp features, skinny arms, and another source of warmth in this too-big bed, too empty room.

He doesn’t want to be alone anymore.

————————————————

Merlin clutches the blanket that he’s far too old for to his face, curling into the wall of the barn, hidden behind the large stacks of hay.

His magic flits anxiously around him and he swats it away, burying his face into the worn fabric. The smell is gone. The wonderful smell that coaxed him to sleep is no more and he can’t get it back. It’s gone. It’s gone. It’s never coming back and he’s lost it, he’s lost it forever and he’s alone now, he’s alone and he never wants to be alone like this, with just too much magic thrumming in his veins.

It’s not happy either, bustling about, whipping up stray pieces of hay this way and that as Merlin frets, rubbing the fabric back off forth over his lips, his hands unable to stop. His magic wants something to do, something to stop, itching to find whatever’s making Merlin so upset and make it go away. But it can’t, because it’s not the presence of something that’s making Merlin so upset, it’s the absence.

Merlin wants whoever left to find him again.

He asked his mother and she said he came from somewhere else. Is he looking for his father? Is that who left? Or was it someone else?

He wants the other small person back. He remembers his magic aching for them, humming contentedly when they were both together, twirling around and around the pair of them as they lay intertwined. He wants them back, wants them here, wants their scent to settle comfortingly around the both of them until they both fall asleep in each other’s arms.

His magic frets, trying to whisk up something to fix, something to help, but all it manages to do is shine brightly, golden, and form some kind of big blanket, stretching wide over Merlin’s curled-up form, but settling too lightly, always too lightly, never warm enough, never solid enough.

He wants to be found again.

He doesn’t belong here. His mother tries, Will tries, they all try, but it’s not enough. Merlin knows right down to his bones, to his magic, that he doesn’t fit here. This isn’t his home.

He wants whoever was his home to come to find him again.

He doesn’t want to be alone anymore.

————————————————

“Do I know you?”

“I’m Merlin.”

“So I don’t know you.”

You will, laughs a golden voice on the wind, you already do.

#dragonbabbles #merlin #bbc merlin #merthur #fic #merthur fic #arthur pendragon

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