#and Arthur deserves to be more than a stupid prat-prince | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bitsandbobsofwriting · 3 years ago

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5 times Merlin noticed Arthur’s odd reactions to things,

+1 time he could start on the road to helping.

TW: Graphic descriptions of child abuse, claustrophobia, panic attacks/flashbacks/disassociating.

Merlin notices things. He always has done, ever since he was a child. Maybe it was the magic, maybe it was the ingrained fear of being snuck up on (as a Bastard child, as a citizen of Essetir, and as someone with magic) or maybe it was just some odd, innate skill. It doesn’t really matter: Merlin is observant, he has keen eyes, which is why he notices Arthur’s sudden change in disposition.

It was a normal afternoon, Arthur and Merlin had just gotten back from the first hunt of the spring and were filling The King in on how it had gone. Well... Arthur was, Merlin was just sort of stood there.

The servant was annoyed that Arthur had dragged him along, both to the hunt and to the meeting, but The Prince had been so excited (not that he showed it too much) at the prospect of telling his father how well everything went, he conceded easily. It was rare that Arthur got his father’s approval; Merlin had only been serving him for a few months, so maybe it was stupid of him to want to see Arthur happy, but oh well. He may be a prat, but he meant well and he loved his people, he deserved a little happiness occasionally.

Uther was in fact proud, and Merlin had better luck than Arthur at holding his grin in, though that changed quickly.

Arthur was looking out of the window and making casual comments on when he planned on going out next, and Uther, stepping quietly without even realising it, manages to move to the space just behind him without Arthur noticing. He claps a firm, but proud hand on Arthur’s shoulder, and if Merlin hadn’t known that Arthur would deny it later, he would accuse him of jumping a foot in the air. He turns around quickly, eyes wide and barely focusing as Uther gives his son another congratulations, as well as a terse “Make sure you keep it up.”

The sudden tightness in Arthur’s shoulders and his clear discomfort at having Uther so close do not go unnoticed by Merlin and he frowns, making a split second decision that could very well get him put in the stocks:

“Sorry to interrupt, My Lords, but The Prince mentioned wanting to join the evening patrol. Sir Leon and his partner will be leaving shortly.”

Uther whips his head around disapprovingly, and his anger at Merlin for interrupting whatever it was he was about to say translates to a tightened grip on Arthur’s shoulder. The Prince flinches slightly, but carefully steps away from The King, speaking before he can order the servant punished:

“Right you are, Merlin. If you’re happy for me to take my leave, father?”

Uther looks back to his son, confused, but approving of Arthur’s sudden eagerness to join extra patrols:

“Very well. I expect you to keep up the hard work, Arthur, I shall be disappointed if you start slacking again.”

Arthur nods and bows, but doesn’t say anything, his jittery demeanour getting worse with The King’s vaguely threatening tone. He walks stiffly from the room, and Merlin follows with a confused frown, making sure to keep his distance and step loudly on the stone floor; apparently Arthur was feeling jumpy today.

Arthur, still in his armour, leads them down to the courtyard where Sir Leon and another knight were indeed preparing to leave. The Prince doesn’t say anything to Merlin, simply nods in his direction before joining the others, and Merlin thinks he must have done the right thing if Arthur wasn’t shouting at him for giving him extra work that he hadn’t intended to do.

He stores this new, odd information in his mind for future reference, reminding himself to stay away from The Prince’s back and warn him of anyone approaching.

The next thing Merlin notices doesn’t come from a specific incident, more from a series of odd happenings over time.

When Arthur had been released from the dungeons after Merlin’s miraculous survival from being poisoned, he was a mess. At the time, Merlin had smugly suggested that it was because Arthur was worried about him; his hair was similar to a bird’s nest, as if The Prince had been running his hands through it and pulling it on a near constant basis, and the shirt he was wearing frankly stunk of sweat.

Arthur had rolled his eyes at that and slunk off to sulk in his chambers—once Gaius had assured him Merlin would be fine—and the young servant had taken that as confirmation.

The first time Merlin actually witnesses Arthur’s quick, shallow breath and wide panicked eyes, they’re rushing through the narrow servant corridors. The Prince’s grip on his sword looks uncomfortably tight and the sweat on his brow seems a little odd: they weren’t running that fast. Merlin figures that Arthur is just stressed out from trying to catch the sneaky arsehole assassin who was trying to do in as many councilmen as he could before getting away.

Which is an understandable thing to be stressed about.

Merlin only takes actual note of it when, after the assassin had gotten away, The King had demanded Arthur retrace his footsteps back through the castle to see if the criminal had dropped anything or hidden anywhere. Arthur practically freezes up at that, his wide eyes and pale skin making Merlin frown in confusion, only for his frown to deepen when Arthur stutters through his suggestion of having another knight lead the internal search whilst Arthur heads out into the city.

The relief on Arthur’s face when Uther agrees is, though brief and immediately hidden, immense.

Merlin thinks back on the state Arthur had been in after he’d quested for Merlin’s cure. Perhaps... perhaps Arthur had been such a mess because he had spent a night in the dungeons, and not because he had been worried about Merlin.

As much as Arthur might like to think Merlin’s an idiot, the servant makes quick connections, pieces things together easily, like a children’s puzzle. At least when it comes to Arthur.

The servant is also reminded of the way Arthur insists that Merlin leave a few candles lit in the evening. At first, Merlin thought it was because Arthur was sneaking out of bed to get more paperwork done (Uther may rarely see it, but Arthur works ridiculously hard), but he checked the paperwork one morning and nothing had been added or altered. Then he though that it was maybe so Arthur could see any attackers coming in the night, because he was paranoid like that, but the candles always burnt out after a couple hours anyway, so it wasn’t like they were lasting through the night.

Merlin figures he was probably just reading into things too much (plus, he knows that accusing Arthur of being afraid of the dark or tight spaces would get him nothing but a slap up the head and, depending on The Prince’s mood, a visit to the stocks), though Arthur refusing to stay in Merlin’s tiny bedroom for any longer than necessary, and insisting on multiple torches being lit whenever they ventured into caves, forces Merlin to reconsider.

It was after one such adventure in one such cave that Merlin took advantage of the castle’s funds being available to him, and heads down to the market to buy some larger candles (and if he cast a spell to make them last longer... well... no one needed to know). Arthur gives him an odd look when he walks into The Prince’s chambers that evening and begins setting up and lighting them without acknowledgement; Merlin answers his questioning hum without looking at him:

“I know you like to be able to see just in case attackers make it into your chambers: these ones should last all the way until the morning. I set up a standing order with a merchant in the lower town.”

Arthur frowns confusedly, knowing that no one had managed to sneak into his chambers in months; it was definitely odd that Merlin had suddenly decided that this was a good idea. Still, Merlin doesn’t look back at him as he casually moves around the room, lighting the new candles and hoping that Arthur wouldn’t notice him leaving the curtains open by about an inch. He notices, though he doesn’t mention it in his response:

“Hmm. It seems you’re finally putting that brain of yours to use, Merlin.”

Merlin finally turns to look at him, glaring half-heartedly as he sarcastically laughs. Arthur just grins at him, glancing at the strip of moonlight on the floor for only a moment before climbing into his bed, muttering for Merlin to go ahead and get an early night.

From then on, Merlin packs extra torches in his pack when they go adventuring, and if he has room, a candle, in case they end up in an inn. If Arthur notices any of that, or the fact that Merlin always opens the window whenever they’re in the tiny Physician’s chambers for more than five minutes and always keeps him company on the now-rare nights Uther is angry enough to lock Arthur in the dungeons... well... neither of them point it out.

The next odd reaction doesn’t happen until years later.

Of course Merlin keeps noticing Arthur’s aversion to surprise touch (especially from knights and his father) and general dislike of the dark/closed spaces, but dealing with it and adjusting to make things easier just sort of becomes part of their routine, without either of them really realising.

Arthur has been King for a few weeks when it happens. It's warm, too warm for armour, so the roundtable knights are practicing their hand to hand instead of using swords and shields. Arthur usually sits out for these lessons, teaching and observing from the side-lines as opposed to taking part in spars. Merlin had always thought it was odd, but the one and only time he had brought it up, years ago, Arthur had forced him to join in on the lessons. He had a lot of bruises that day.

But today was not a usual day apparently; Arthur joined in. He seemed reluctant at first, like he was unsure if he actually wanted to, but his first weeks as King had been going well and he’d had a successful meeting with some of his Lords the previous day, so he’s in a good mood. He finally caves when Lancelot offers to spar with him; there was something about the gentle man that just makes everyone in his vicinity feel a little more at ease.

The sun was shining, but heavy rain the previous week means the grass was bright and soft; all in all, it was a lovely day, but Merlin’s focus was still on Arthur and the way he and Lance dance around each other. All the knights were holding their strength back a little, the purpose of sparring is rarely to go all out, but practicing form and technique and footwork is always a good idea.

Arthur falls into the rhythm of the spar, dodging and side-stepping and blocking with ease, neither he nor Lance were eager to speed things up in the heat. He was moving automatically, running on instincts and just a little bit of adrenaline, which is probably why he freezes up when confronted with something so terrifyingly familiar.

A glint of sunlight off something metallic caches his eye, and his gaze moves away from the fight for barely a split-second, but when he looks back all he can see is shortly cropped brown hair, a bright red tunic, and a fist swinging for his face.

Lancelot yelps when Arthur doesn’t block like he had expected him to, and Merlin is sprinting over before The King’s head has even finished rocking to the side. The other knights go to crowd closer, worried for their leader, but Merlin waves them off harshly and they keep their distance, trusting him. Lancelot looks horrified, but dutifully steps back as Merlin puts one hand on Arthur’s shoulder and uses the other to tilt his chin from side to side.

Merlin’s frown deepens when Arthur just lets himself be manhandled. Even in his worst injuries he was reluctant to let people check him over; Merlin quickly notices his wide eyes staring vacantly and the breathing that was far deeper than it really should be. He tries to get The King to look at him as he speaks lowly, so the others can’t hear him:

“Arthur? You with me?”

Arthur gulps, blinking rapidly and meeting his gaze, though Merlin can tell that he still isn’t really seeing:

“I... I’m sorry, I... I didn’t mean... I wasn’t...”

Merlin can only just hear Arthur’s whispers, and he’s grateful for the fact that the others definitely can’t hear them. He moves the hand on Arthur’s shoulder down to grip the other man’s hand and squeezes, and uses the other to shield his eyes from the sun as he mutters:

“Arthur, it’s Merlin, you’re out on the training field with members of the Roundtable, it’s late Spring, and you were crowned King three weeks ago. Arthur?”

It’s only then that Arthur’s eyes come into focus.

Merlin has never been grateful to have the bones in his hands almost break, and he doubts he’ll ever be grateful for it again. Merlin’s squeezes back, digging his nails in just a little as a subtle “please don’t break my hand”. Arthur loosens his grip and Merlin raises his eyebrow slightly in question; the blonde groans slightly and lifts a shaking hand to rub his eyes:

“What happened?”

Merlin glances at the huddle of knights behind him and gives them a reassuring smile before he looks back to Arthur, speaking so everyone can hear:

“You took quite the well placed hit from Lance, got a mild concussion and lost yourself for a minute. You’ll probably be fine by this evening, but I want to get you in the shade just in case, ok?”

Arthur seems surprised at the explanation, but nods wordlessly, letting Merlin guide him up towards the castle without a fuss. That just worries Merlin more, and he speeds up slightly as he yells over his shoulder:

“Leon’s in charge!”

Leon just chuckles, knowing that Merlin wouldn’t be paying them the slightest bit of attention if Arthur was even close to being seriously injured, but Gwaine just tilts his head and frowns:

“I love the guy but since when does Merlin decide who’s in charge? If he had said Elyan was in charge would we have just... gone with it?”

Leon shoves him playfully and tells him to get back to work, giving Lancelot a comforting pat on the shoulder as they all look away from the servant-King duo.

Merlin doesn’t take Arthur to the physician’s chambers, but goes to The King’s bedchamber instead; Arthur wasn’t actually concussed, but his mind had been elsewhere for a moment, so much so that he hadn’t recognised Merlin and spoke to him as if he were someone else. He sits The King down on the edge of the bed and kneels in front of him, hands on his knees as he frowns:

“Arthur? Still with me, or gone again?”

Arthur takes in a sharp breath, making eye contact with Merlin again as he straightens his back and answers confidently, his voice wavering only slightly:

“Yeah, yes, I’m with you. Sorry, lost in thought. I don’t feel concussed, are you sure?”

Merlin nods and stands up, leaving Arthur on the bed as he moves to open the window and get him a goblet of water:

“Hmm, I lied, I don’t think you are either, you weren’t hit that hard to be honest, but you weren’t really... with it, thought it best to get you away from the others.-”

He turns around the see Arthur tense and angry-looking, though Merlin gets the distinct impression that it’s not aimed at him:

“-You probably just got dazed by the hit, that and you’re overtired, you’ve been staying up late the last few nights. Drink this, maybe have a nap, or at least stay out of the sunlight for a few hours, you’ll definitely be getting a headache at some point soon and I don’t want you to make it worse.”

He hands over the goblet of water, holding it slightly out of Arthur’s reach so the other man has to stand for it. He manages to stand on his own two feet with no issue, and the shaking in his hands is lesser than it was before, though not gone entirely, so Merlin makes a mental list of all the chores that he could finish here, in Arthur’s presence. The King drinks the water absent-mindedly, leaving the goblet on the side table as he mutters:

“Overtired... yeah, probably.”

He wanders towards his desk, collapsing in the seat and staring half-heartedly at the paperwork spread all over the place. Merlin relaxes slightly, deciding that maybe there was a reason Arthur never joined in on hand-to-hand.

Merlin wasn’t fond of Arthur’s current visitor, Lord Algere, but he was pleased to note that Arthur didn’t seem all that fond of him either. He was an old supporter of Uther’s, which meant the occasional snide remark about how Uther would’ve handled certain situations differently, followed by deferential admissions of being “a close friend and advisor to the former King.”.

He was just friendly and kiss-ass enough that he couldn’t be kicked from court, that Arthur still had to be polite to him, but he rubbed pretty much everyone up the wrong way and Merlin couldn’t wait until he left to go back to his estate, thankfully situated on the furthest edge of the Kingdom.

It's the day before he’s due to leave when he says it:

“You remind me of your father a great deal, you know, you’re very similar.”

Arthur freezes up at the so-called compliment, but recovers quickly, giving the Lord a tight smile before excusing himself so he wouldn’t be late for the city border patrol he was undertaking. Normally Merlin didn’t go with him on these patrols, he’d only be gone for a couple hours at most and he was joined by a partner; it gave Merlin time to finish up some chores, but the servant felt the need to be there today.

The King is silent the entire time, which is unusual considering he's riding alongside Sir Leon today, and those two always have something official to talk about. He doesn’t even spare Merlin an annoyed glance when the servant drops his bag and has to dismount to pick it up, only halts and waits for him to catch up again. Though he's sure The King had relaxed slightly at the beginning of the patrol, when Merlin mentioned that he fancied tagging along, and if Merlin weren’t so worried he’d be immensely proud at his apparent ability to put Arthur at ease.

Leon gives Merlin a worried grimace as they ride back into the citadel, but Merlin shakes his head and smiles, his meaning of “I’ll deal with it, I’m sure he’s fine” obvious in the action. The two of them have gotten quite good at silently communicating over the years, God forbid Arthur find out that they were trying to look after him.

They made the journey up to Arthur’s chambers in continued silence, though Merlin really starts to really worry when Arthur just wanders over to the window and stares down into the courtyard. He only does that when he’s feeling particularly pensive. Merlin lays out the work he knows Arthur had wanted to get done this afternoon and perches on the edge of the desk, facing Arthur’s back with his arms crossed:

“Arthur, you alright? You’ve been quiet.”

Arthur nods, but doesn’t turn away from the window, staying silent. Merlin purses his lips, but it doesn’t take him long to figure out what he thinks might be wrong. He moves across the room and sits himself down at the dining table, casually starting on the polishing he had left there earlier as he speaks, trying to keep his tone as neutral and absent-minded as possible:

“I’ve no clue what Algere was talking about earlier, he either knows nothing about you, or didn’t know your father nearly as much as he says he did.”

Arthur finally turns from the window, fixing a curious frown on Merlin, who forces himself to keep his gaze down:

“What makes you say that?”

Merlin still doesn’t look up, but knows that he’s on the right track. Arthur has been able to admit, especially recently with his changing opinions on magic, that his father was not a good man, though he still struggles to admit that he wasn’t a good father:

“Well, from what I’ve seen, you look way more like your mother than you do Uther, and you don’t act like him at all, you haven’t picked up on any of his mannerisms or anything.-”

The servant finally looks up at Arthur, his words true but his nonchalance false as he continues with a confused frown:

“-To be honest, I’ve always thought you act more like an odd mix of Leon and Morgana. You’ve definitely got Leon’s sense of chivalry and respect and his knightly traits, but your... how do I say... fiery attitude when it comes to your sense of right and wrong, that’s definitely Morgana. Uther was quick to anger, you’ve got fairly good control of your anger nowadays. Uther was set in his ways and refused to change no matter the consequences, you bend traditions all the time, improve things in ways that Uther would never have dreamed of doing.-”

The servant shrugs and looks back down to his polishing:

“-I just don’t see the similarities, and I certainly know you better than Algere. I’ve a feeling I knew Uther better than Algere as well.”

Arthur hums non-committedly, but sits down at his desk instead of turning back to the window. Merlin feels the tension leave his shoulders, but doesn’t relax fully when he notices Arthur staring at his folded hands instead of working. Apparently it had only partially worked:

“Arthur?”

He doesn’t look up, just shuffles slightly in his eat as he lowly answers:

“Do you think I might... turn out like him? In the end? People say he was kind and gentle when he was young. If... if I ever have children...”

The question goes unasked, but the fear in his voice is palpable, and Merlin has to stop himself from sprinting from the room to burn every painting of Uther he can find. Instead, he puts the armour down on the table softly and stands, making sure to step loudly and clear his throat as he leans against the edge of Arthur’s desk again:

“Arthur, you’re a wonderful King, a wonderful knight, a wonderful man, and I guarantee that one day you’ll be a wonderful father. Don’t stress, you’ve out done your father in every other aspect of your life, I’m sure you’ll continue to do so.”

Arthur looks up at Merlin with a slight frown on his face, though it’s more thoughtful than anything. Merlin holds his gaze with a soft smile for a few moments, content to wait for Arthur to give him some sort of cue; Arthur just rolls his eyes and shoves him from the table, picking up a quill and finally beginning to actually work:

“Try not to insult the former King too much in one sitting, Merlin. And that armour won’t polish itself.”

Merlin just laughs quietly and moves back to the table, understanding and accepting that that was probably the best he was going to get. He makes a mental note to mention Arthur’s similarities to Leon next time the three of them are together; Arthur will be relieved, though he won’t show it, and Leon will be flattered beyond words.

He dares not do it with Morgana. Both of them would be secretly be pleased, though they’d kick up one hell of a fuss trying to deny it.

Thankfully, the two of them are in Arthur’s chambers when it happens.

Merlin’s not entirely sure he could use the “concussion” excuse like he did last time, not with the length of time it lasted.

It’s late, the curtains are drawn—with the traditional inch wide gap allowing a strip of moonlight to fall across the floor and over Arthur’s bed—and Arthur’s special candles have been lit. He’d been made aware of the spell Merlin had cast on them a few months ago, and though he was annoyed that Merlin had put himself at such risk, he hadn’t asked him to remove the spell, which the servant took as a good sign (both that Arthur wasn’t too mad about the magic, and that it had been a good idea).

The King sits at his desk, doing his normal pile of evening paperwork and trying to fit in as much as he can before Merlin snatches it away and manhandles him into bed, Merlin who is generally pottering around the room tidying. Arthur thinks of it more as just... moving the mess around, but he let’s him be; Merlin’s quiet company is much appreciated, especially with all the difficulties Arthur is having with repealing the ban on magic.

The King lets out a deep sigh, sitting back in his chair and tiredly rubbing his eyes. Merlin notices, because of course he does, and wanders over, a concerned frown on his face as he sits in the chair opposite him:

“You alright? Hit a snag?”

Arthur hums but shakes his head, opening his eyes but staying slumped in his seat; Merlin makes plans to get him to bed at some point in the next half candle mark at least:

“Hmm. No, just tired. This whole thing is draining, I wish I could just force them to see sense.”

Merlin knew that the them Arthur speaks of is the council. Currently, The King has about half of them on side, not including Leon, Morgana, and Gaius, but they need a majority by a significant margin before they can move forward, and Arthur refuses to act in any way that isn’t democratic.

Merlin nods, smiling softly at his lap as Arthur closes his eyes again:

“This is what it means to be King, Arthur,-”

At first, Merlin doesn’t notice the way Arthur’s eyes fly open, nor the way he slowly sits up straight, nor the way his shoulders tighten and his skin grows pale and his eyes go vacant.

“-but I think you’re doing great, don’t be too hard on... Arthur? Are you alright?”

Merlin frowns when he finally looks up to see The King sitting ramrod straight and staring into the middle distance, his breathing ragged and his blue eyes glassy and unseeing. He stands slowly, moving around to Arthur’s side to crouch there and wave a hand in front of his face.

He doesn’t react.

Merlin shakes his shoulder slightly, hesitating only momentarily before touching him, but even then, Arthur doesn’t respond. The servant gulps, glancing over his shoulder at the door to make sure it was locked before touching a hand to Arthur’s forehead and muttering a spell; he normally uses this spell to wake up unconscious people, but it has no effect on The King other than sending a slight shiver through his body.

Merlin calls his name a few times, but it expectedly has no effect. He tries to test Arthur’s pain awareness by pinching the underside of his arm, and whilst he flinches away slightly, he doesn’t come to, still stares blankly at the opposite wall. Merlin thinks of calling for the guards and asking for Gaius, but somehow he doesn’t think the elderly physician will be able to help; there was no magic at play here, and he certainly hadn’t been poisoned. In all honestly he just looked a little zoned out, like the time Merlin had lied about the concussion, except it was clearly lasting longer this time.

Merlin frowns but tries his best to keep the panic at bay, it had only been a few minutes now, but other than breathing Arthur hadn’t moved an inch.

The servant takes a deep, relaxing breath, or at least what he hoped would be a relaxing breath. It’s not. He uses magic to slide Arthur’s chair away from the desk slightly, and moves into the space it leaves, shuffling all of the paperwork away and leaning on the edge. Once again, he puts one hand on Arthur’s shoulder, and takes his hand with the other, squeezing slightly.

He waits.

After another ten minutes or so, Arthur’s breathing gets slightly more frantic, and he begins squeezing Merlin’s hand back. Merlin moves closer, crouching in between Arthur’s legs and shaking his shoulder again, but he stops when Arthur begins muttering:

“Didn’t... I... I’m sorry. Not my.... didn’t... didn’t mean to... sorry... disappointment...”

Merlin’s frown deepens at the barely audible whispers, especially when he notices the tears gathering in Arthur’s eyes. He shakes his shoulder again and forces himself to speak, just about managing to keep the waiver from his voice:

“Arthur, there’s no one else here, it’s just you and me, it’s just us, just Arthur and Merlin. It’s the evening in late Autumn, it’s almost time for bed, you sparred with Percival this morning and had a long, annoying council meeting this afternoon. You’re sat at your desk in your chambers with me, no one else.”

Arthur’s eyes come into focus, slowly at first and then all at once. He blinks and stands suddenly, almost tipping his chair backwards in his haste as he reaches a hand to his sword-less hip. Merlin moves back quickly, grimacing as he bumps harshly into the desk. Arthur’s gaze whips around the room desperately, as if searching for a danger that he was certain was there, before his eyes finally land on Merlin. The servant holds his hands out placatingly, not relaxing even as Arthur takes a deep breath and seems to calm down.

The King slumps back in his seat, rubbing the tears from his eyes with shaking hands; Merlin crouches down again, but doesn’t dare touch him, not quite yet:

“Arthur?”

His head whips up, but he relaxes again when he sees Merlin sat in front of him:

“Yes, sorry, I... must of dozed off or something.”

Merlin frowns, but nods one, speaking slowly, his tone low and even:

“Hmm. Must’ve, you looked like you were having a nightmare or something so I woke you. Time for bed, I think.”

For once, Arthur actually agrees with him, not bothering to argue like normal as he stands on shaking legs and heads to where Merlin has neatly laid his sleeping clothes on the bed. Merlin’s concerned gaze follows him, but he doesn’t move too far from the desk, deciding that he and Gaius definitely need to have a chat about... whatever the hell that was.

Half a candle mark later, Arthur is quietly wishing his manservant a good night and dismissing him. He was obviously distracted, Merlin normally can’t be frowning for more than thirty seconds before The King is hounding him about what’s wrong, but thirty minutes pass with not a question from Arthur, and Merlin makes his way to the Physician’s Chambers hoping that Gaius is still awake.

Thankfully, the elderly physician is still pottering around, tidying away various bits and pieces and generally preparing the room for a new day tomorrow. He immediately notices Merlin’s peculiar mood and gestures for the younger man to sit opposite him at the table:

“What’s bothering you, my boy?”

Merlin sits slowly, biting his lip and trying to decide just how honest to be:

“What does it mean if someone... zones out, completely, for extended periods of time?”

Gaius raises an eyebrow:

“I’m going to need a little more than that, Merlin.”

Merlin huffs but nods, shuffling in his seat slightly but responding:

“I was with someone earlier today. We were just chatting whilst we worked and suddenly they just... weren’t there anymore. Stiff, eyes glazed over, ragged breathing. They responded slightly to pain but it didn’t snap them out of it and they just... sat there, utterly blankly, for about twenty minutes. Eventually they started muttering to themselves, but it didn’t make any sense, then they... woke up, I guess, and thought they had fallen asleep. They definitely weren’t asleep, but they weren’t... I don’t know, conscious?”

Gaius frowns but nods, clutching his hands tightly on the table as he explains, his voice grave:

“Hmm. Sounds like an extended disassociation episode. I gather that I’m not to be told who this was?-”

Merlin shakes his head slightly, and though he looks slightly annoyed, Gaius nods and continues:

“-This happens mostly to people who experience something extremely traumatic, though it also happens in victims of extended abuse, especially if the abuse was in childhood, the younger the victim, the worse the reaction. Occasionally it can happen randomly, though it’s mostly triggered by something in their surrounding environment.”

Merlin’s frown deepens, and Gaius would easily hazard a guess at saying he looks angry. He doesn’t point it out though, just waits for his ward to continue:

“What can trigger it? And what other symptoms will child abuse victims display?”

Gaius takes another deep breath, but slowly responds:

“Anything can be a trigger really, something they see or smell or hear, something someone else does or says.-”

(”This is what it means to be King, Arthur,-” pops into Merlin’s head.)

“-As for other symptoms, aversion to touch, occasionally fear of being alone, OR fear of being in another’s presence. Some experience trouble with regulating strong emotions, difficulty in regulating long term relationships, platonic or otherwise, trouble with self-esteem. It varies from person to person, there is no strict list of obvious signs. Might I ask... why?”

Merlin shakes his head and stands, moving towards his bedroom with clenched hands and tight shoulders. Just before he shuts the door behind him, he turns to look at Gaius over his shoulder, brow furrowed and voice low:

“What... what was Uther like? When Arthur was a child?”

Gaius closes his eyes briefly, letting out a weary sigh and trying his best to hold in his grief:

“Strict, extremely difficult to please. He never... he never hit Arthur, not in public anyway, though it wouldn’t surprise me if he was violent privately. As a child, The Prince was terrified of the dark, and the dungeons. I got the impression that Uther forced him down there on more than one occasion. Arthur is... the one your concerned about?”

Gaius knows the answer, but it doesn’t stop the tears from welling in his eyes when Merlin wordlessly nods before shutting the door behind him.

+1)

A few weeks have passed since Merlin had figured it all out.

He didn’t dare bring it up to Arthur, and shuts the conversation down any time Gaius mentions it. The conversation is for Arthur, and Arthur only, and Merlin wasn’t going to force it.

Besides, they’ve been extremely busy with the transitions; The Kingdom was going from anti-magic to pro-magic, and Merlin was going from servant to a member of court. Arthur had tried to force nobility onto him as well as his position as Court Sorcerer, but Merlin had put his foot down at that, insisting that he wouldn’t become some stuck up wealthy arsehole, not even if his life was on the line.

Gwaine, Elyan, Percival, Gwen, and Morgana had grinned at that, Arthur and Lancelot rolled their eyes, Mordred continued to insist on calling him “My Lord” anyway, and Leon had looked marginally affronted as he mumbled something along the lines of “I’m a Lord you know, technically.”.

They aren’t lucky this time around, and it all comes to an explosive head in a quiet, though still habited corridor in the middle of the afternoon.

Afterwards, Merlin absent-mindedly considers the fact that they could’ve been in the courtyard or the throne room or somewhere equally busy, and thanks the Gods for just this little bit of luck; only two servants, one guard, and the... the noble and his son were in the corridor at the time.

Arthur and Merlin are making their way to the council room, preparing themselves for a busy meeting: it was the first since magic was officially legalised, and the first that Merlin (and Gwen, though that was another matter entirely) would officially be sitting in on. Though, in all honesty, pretty much the whole Kingdom knew that Merlin had been advising Arthur privately for years.

Merlin frowns and Arthur stiffens slightly as they spot the noble gripping his young son’s collar and aggressively whispering at him. The boy can’t be more than ten summers old, but the tears in his eyes display his utter terror clearly enough; no child should ever have to be that scared, especially not of their parents. Merlin resigns himself to just magicking the pig’s trousers down when no one was looking his way, but barely a second after he makes that decision the man raises his hand, and slaps the boy across the face.

Everyone in the corridor freezes as the boy cries out, and the noble doesn’t seem to notice the way the guard looks frantically between him and The King, waiting for instruction, or the way the servants and Merlin were staring, horrified. Arthur breaks out of his shocked stupor first, striding towards him with his fist already raised and his eyes blazing:

“How fucking DARE you?!”

His knuckles make violent contact with the man’s mouth, and the spray of blood from a busted lip and loosened teeth is what spurs Merlin into action. He runs forward, scooping the distraught boy up in his arms and quickly handing him over to one of the servants:

“Take him to Gaius, swear that you will not utter a word of this to anyone bar the Court Physician?”

His eyes flash golden as the servants’ both nod, and they rush off in the direction of the Physician’s chambers. Merlin, satisfied that they will be unable to break their promise, turns next to the guard, momentarily ignoring the way Arthur has shoved the bleeding noble against the stone wall:

“Fetch the Lady Morgana and Guinevere and tell them to go to Gaius and the boy, stay with them, swear that you will inform no one bar those three what has happened?”

The guard nods, understanding the magic implicitly as Merlin’s eyes flash gold again. He spares The King and his deserving victim one last glance before running towards Morgana’s chambers.

Merlin turns, finally, to Arthur, almost-but-not-quite recoiling at the tears on his cheeks as he lands another punch to the noble’s jaw. His face is black and blue at this point, and Merlin pulls Arthur back just as he raises his fist again; he thrashes in his grip, but quickly sags as his breathing deepens. The noble falls to the floor, unconscious in all likelihood, and Merlin clicks his fingers, banishing him to the dungeons with nothing but a shower of golden sparks.

Arthur breathes deeply, leaning all of his weight on Merlin as he clamps his un-bruised hand over his mouth, his wide eyes staring intensely at where the boy had been stood moments before. He doesn’t respond to Merlin’s calls, and with another flash of gold, they disappear, reappearing in Arthur’s bed chamber.

Merlin shoots Mordred a quick message over their mental link as he lowers Arthur to the floor, leaning him against the edge of the bed and moving around to be crouched in front of him. The King’s breathing has gotten dangerously deep and dangerously fast, the tears streaming down his face as his hands clench and unclench around nothing. Merlin quickly intertwines their fingers in an effort to stop Arthur hurting himself, but that just freaks the other man out even more as he desperately scrambles to get away from the contact.

Merlin lets go and moves back, eyes wide and desperate as he watches Arthur bring his knees up to his chest, burying his head in his arms and rocking slightly. His cries are muffled, but Merlin can still hear the heart wrenching sound; the Warlock takes a moment to breath before he stealthily moves around the room, lighting candles, locking the door, and shutting the curtains (bar an inch), before moving back to sit beside Arthur, a foot or so of space between them.

After a few minutes of no change, Merlin starts humming. He can’t remember any of the words, but it’s an old lullaby his mum used to sing when he couldn’t sleep, when he was scared of his own magic and his own friends and every shadow that moved in the dark. Arthur’s breathing slows, though he still hiccups occasionally, and Merlin rests his hand on the stone floor between them: an offer, not a demand.

Arthur doesn’t take it, instead shuffling over to lean his head on Merlin’s shoulder. Merlin freezes, not daring to put his arm around the other man as he continues to hum; he must’ve circled back and restarted the same song six, seven, eight times before Arthur nuzzles in further and sniffs before muttering:

“You’ve a good voice, Merlin.”

Merlin huffs a gentle laugh, leaning his head on top of Arthur’s softly as he quietly replies:

“Runs in the family, my mother used to sing to me, though I don’t really know any other tunes I’m afraid.”

Arthur nods, but doesn’t reply, turning into Merlin’s chest slightly as the Warlock hesitatingly wraps his arms around the other man; he stops being so hesitant when he notices Arthur’s eagerness. Merlin pulls him close, sighing but letting Arthur settle in before he says anything. In the back of his mind, he’s aware of the pain shooting up his spine at being sat on the stone floor for so long, but he decides he doesn’t really care, if this is what Arthur needs.

After a few more minutes, he rubs his cheek into Arthur’s soft hair and speaks, his voice gentle and loving:

“Feeling better?”

Arthur stiffens slightly, but quickly relaxes, nodding into Merlin’s chest and mumbling:

“The boy?”

Merlin smiles at Arthur’s worry:

“Safe. He’s with Gaius, Morgana, and Gwen, under protective guard.”

Arthur nods again, tightening his hold on Merlin’s tunic:

“And his... father?”

“Bloodied up and locked in the dungeons, far away from his son. Mordred let the guards know that he is not to leave under any circumstances, told the council that the meeting had been postponed until further notice, and then went to relieve the guard in the Physician’s chambers.”

The King relaxes, and so does Merlin, though only slightly, he knows that this is where that terrifying conversation has opportunity to rear it’s ugly head:

“Arthur, are we going to talk about this?-”

He rushes to carry on when Arthur’s breath hitches and his hands pull on Merlin’s tunic slightly:

“-You can say no, Arthur. I swear, I will never, ever ask, not if you don’t want me to.”

Arthur doesn’t relax, but he shakes his head, gulping before replying, his voice thick:

“No, it’s fine, I should probably... talk about it, right? Morgana is always on my arse about being less repressed or whatever.-”

Merlin nods, but doesn’t say anything, stroking his fingers through Arthur’s hair rhythmically. Arthur lets out a deep breath, humming contentedly at the gesture and leaning even more into it:

“-My father was... difficult to please. His default was anger, no matter what, and it was... rare, for him to be anything but furious. He never... not in public, and never left marks where anyone could see.-”

Merlin struggles against the urge to hit someone (preferably Uther, though unfortunately he was dead. He supposes Uther’s old supporters would do in a pinch), but he makes do with taking a deep breath:

“-When he was especially furious he would lock me in a storage closet, or the dungeons. He... he would order that all the lights be put out, and all the windows covered, so I couldn’t see. Merlin I couldn’t see anything. I still... I can’t stand the dark, but I’m guess you figured that out?-”

Merlin knows that he’s referring to the candles and the perpetually open curtains and nods, humming in agreement:

“-How pathetic is that? A grown man, a King, afraid of the dark.”

Merlin tightens his grip on Arthur and shakes his head:

“It’s not pathetic, Arthur. It’s an automatic response, a defence mechanism that your brain puts in place to try and protect you from being re-traumatised. To this day, I’m terrified of fire, even though I have no reason to be anymore, even though it can’t hurt me as a Dragon Lord.”

Arthur gulps, but relaxes slightly, though his voice is quiet, almost ashamed as he continues:

“I can’t look at Lancelot’s turned back, I struggle to spar with him as well. He... he doesn’t even look anything like my father, he just... he always wears red and has the same hair as my father when he was younger and they’re the same height. Sometimes I feel like I’m a child again, everything around me just disappears and I’m back in that dungeon, or my father is stood over me screaming. How am I meant to be a good King when I’m scared of my own shadow?”

Merlin sighs, staying silent for a few minutes as he attempts to put an answer together in his mind. Arthur sniffles again, and Merlin is suddenly made aware of the wet patch where Arthur’s head rests on his tunic:

“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, as many times as you want: you are a wonderful King. You’ve delivered a Golden Age upon this Kingdom, your friends love you, your people adore you. You’ve never just been a good King, Arthur, you’ve been the best this Kingdom, and this world, has ever seen.”

Arthur loosens his grip again but huffs a quiet laugh against Merlin’s chest, which the Warlock definitely counts as a win:

“Kiss-ass.”

Merlin laughs this time, though he doesn’t stop carding his fingers through Arthur’s hair:

“Nah, when have you ever known me to kiss ass? I speak only the truth, My Lord.”

They both fall silent again, and Arthur pulls away from Merlin’s chest. Merlin drops his arms immediately, not wanting to make the other man uncomfortable, but Arthur just takes one of his hands and goes back to sitting by his side, his head resting on Merlin’s shoulder. The silence is long, but comfortable, and it’s dark outside by the time Arthur speaks again:

“Merlin?-”

The Warlock doesn’t make a sound, but squeezes Arthur’s hand in acknowledgement:

“-I thanked you for all the big stuff: saving my life, and saving the Kingdom, and all that. But I never thanked you for the small stuff. The candles and the endless support and the excuses.”

Merlin frowns slightly in confusion, not that Arthur can see:

“Excuses?”

“You didn’t think I didn’t notice, did you? You started years and years ago. You always seemed to notice when being with... with my father, or the knights, or anyone really, was getting too much, you always had some excuse ready. Sometimes you outright lied, even if it would get you in trouble, just to get me away from people. I don’t know how you knew... no one else ever realised. Saying I had paperwork when I didn’t, or a patrol when I wasn’t scheduled for one, or a concussion just to give me some privacy. Thank you.”

Merlin smiles slightly, squeezing Arthur’s hand again:

“You were too busy looking after everyone else, someone had to look after you. I’m grateful it was me, Arthur, I-”

He pauses and sits up slightly straighter, though it doesn’t jostle Arthur too much. He lifts his head anyway, staring at Merlin in concern with tired eyes:

“Merlin?”

Merlin looks to him suddenly, but smiles:

“Hmm, sorry, just Mordred. Updating me on the kid and asking if you’re alright.-”

Arthur’s cheeks flush slightly, but Merlin’s smile grows as he shakes his head:

“-Don’t worry, no one knows about... this, just that you went berserk when you saw a Noble beating his kid, and punched his teeth out.”

Arthur relaxes and nods, humming thoughtfully as he looks to the floor. He stands up, wobbling only slightly after being curled up in the same position on a cold stone floor for several hours, and Merlin follows him confusedly:

“Do... do you want to go check in on them? The kid’s been asking after you apparently, wants to thank you.-”

Arthur looks conflicted, almost as if he were worrying that he wouldn’t actually be welcomed, so Merlin puts a hand on his shoulder and smiles, waiting until Arthur looks at him before continuing:

“-We can leave it until morning, if you like, but you saved that boy, Arthur, there’s nothing to worry about.”

Arthur nods, but doesn’t move until Merlin wipes his face clean with his sleeve and smooths out his clothes. If he uses a little magic to make the two of them more presentable, then neither of them mention it as they walk purposefully to the door.

Merlin looks to Arthur stood next to him, his hand hovering over the door handle:

“Ready?”

Arthur smiles at him, taking his hand and squeezing it, but not dropping it as he opens the door and steps into the corridor:

“Ready.”

THE END!!!

As angsty as it was, I really enjoyed writing that😅. I couldn’t help myself though, I had to give it a happy ending :D

I hope y’all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!! I love y’all!!

My Ko-Fi, which is where I post sneak peeks of upcoming works, check it out and consider donating!!

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diner-drama · 3 years ago

Text

Destiny (4/6)

After discovering that Merlin has magic, Arthur spends an inordinate amount of time being an absolute prat. Also on AO3.

Other chapters: 1, 2, 3.

"What kind of a goat-brained idiot would rather mope around the castle with a dislocated shoulder than swallow his stupid pride and get me to fix it," raged Merlin, his voice echoing inside the leech tank as he scrubbed it out.

"Mmm," said Gaius absently, having grown well-practised in tuning out Merlin's endless complaints.

"It's my destiny to protect him, but nobody ever tells you how to protect someone from being an absolute turnip-head."

"Mmm," said Gaius absently, having grown well-practised in tuning out Merlin's endless complaints.

"It's my destiny to protect him, but nobody ever tells you how to protect someone from being an absolute turnip-head." There was a clanging sound and some sloshing as he poured out a little more soapy water from the bucket. "And it's not just him who has the bear the brunt of it, oh no. First, he drives all the knights to distraction by coming up with new training schedules every five minutes and now he's got all the farmers coming in with the crop rotation schedules for the next five years so he can go through them with a fine tooth comb. Crop rotations! As though he's ever held a spade in his life!"

"Yes, it sounds terrible," Gaius responded, turning a page in his book.

"His new manservant's about to have a nervous breakdown. The poor man's coming to me for guidance on how to be a better servant. He must be absolutely desperate. Are you even listening to me?"

"You're quite right, of course," murmured Gaius.

Merlin sighed and picked a leech off his arm.

Merlin heard Arthur before he saw him, the prince's voice echoing along the corridor outside the kitchens as he upbraided his new servant.

"How hard is it to make sure my clothes are at a basic standard of cleanliness?" he snapped. Cowering away towards the wall, the servant was apologising profusely, then paused when he spied Merlin rounding the corner.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you," said Arthur, before looking over his shoulder to see what his servant was staring at. "Oh," he muttered darkly. "Fine," he sighed, turning back to the terrified man, "just wash these properly and have them back to my chambers by the end of the day. Is that too much to expect?"

The servant grabbed the bundle of clothes and sped away wordlessly, nearly tripping over himself in order to get away from the prince's ire.

Not acknowledging Merlin's presence, Arthur began to walk away.

"You're being an ass, do you know that?" called Merlin, unable to contain himself.

"I beg your pardon?" said Arthur incredulously, turning around to face him with a very unappealing sneer on his face.

"None of these people have done anything to deserve the way you're treating them. None of them lied to you, but you're taking it out on them anyway."

"If I want your advice on running the kingdom, Merlin, I'll ask for it," said Arthur coldly, turning away.

"This isn't you, Arthur. You don't rule by threats and intimidation. You're not a bully or a tyrant, you're a decent, honest man. Your people don't fear you. They respect you, but they won't for much longer if you keep acting like this."

"I'll not take lessons in honesty," hissed Arthur, rounding on him and jabbing him in the chest, "from a man like you."

"Punish me all you want, I don't care," said Merlin, looking him boldly in the eye and refusing to back down. "Camelot deserves a better ruler than you're being."

Arthur strode away without saying another word, grumbling under his breath, but no more reports of mistreatment were forthcoming from the servants, and he was even seen apologising to one of the stable hands after standing on his foot.

The castle was inundated with a flurry of reports from a system of caves near a village a day or so's ride away, which was hosting what sounded like an extremely large and very ill-tempered family of wilddeoren. Disregarding the fact that his sword arm was still in a sling, Arther insisted on taking his knights out to investigate.

"Where's Merlin?" asked Gwaine as he loaded up his saddle.

"Merlin won't be joining us," said Arthur curtly.

The knights paused in their preparations, looking at each other in consternation and worry.

"Are you sure, sire?" said Leon delicately. "We will be gone for several days, and we will need someone to assist us."

There were general noises of assent. Not for the first time, Arthur cursed Merlin's popularity with his men.

"I don't relish the idea of camping out in the woods without him," agreed Gwaine.

"My lord," said Lancelot plainly, "none of the other servants will consent to come with us, and none of the knights know how to cook."

More murmurs of assent broke out, with some quiet asides about the fortifying effects of Merlin's rabbit stew.

Arthur set his jaw mulishly, feeling a mutiny brewing within the ranks.

"Fine," he grunted. "Someone fetch him so we can get on our way. I don't want any further delays."

The journey was, in a word, uncomfortable. Arthur rode on ahead in stony silence, and Merlin trailed behind him, watching the prince with sad eyes. Every attempt at conversation that the knights made led to tense, puzzling exchanges between the two of them.

Gwaine, who could talk the hind legs off a dragon, was bravely holding up the conversational fort with a story about a pretty girl he'd met in a tavern with whom he'd spent a wonderful night before waking up to find her sucking the blood from his neck with her pointed teeth.

"Fair play to her," he said, smiling at the memory. "She left me enough to get home with and she did apologise for the inconvenience. It was one hell of a surprise, though."

"It's difficult to find people who you can trust these days," said Arthur pointedly. Merlin made a face.

Gwaine was staring at the sky, a dreamy look in his eyes. "I went back to the tavern a few times, actually, but I never saw her again. More's the pity."

"Trust you to fall for a vampire," laughed Elyan.

"Aye, it wasn't so much the blood-sucking that upset me as it was the dishonesty. She can't help how she's made, but you can always warn a bloke."

Merlin snorted. "Oh yes, I'm sure if she'd opened with 'hello, I'm a blood-sucking creature of the night, pleased to make your acquaintance,' she'd have had a wonderful evening. Never mind all the pitch-forks and torches."

"It's cowardly to let fear for your own skin prevent you from acting honourably," said Arthur bluntly. "Come on, let's stop gossiping like women and make some headway in the journey. I want to reach the clearing before nightfall." He spurred his horse into a trot, effectively ending the conversation as the others followed suit.

The sun had almost set by the time they reached their destination, the last few rays of light turning the sky pink and gold. The moment he had dismounted and tethered his horse, Merlin disappeared into the forest to search for firewood.

Lancelot stood at the side of the prince's horse and helped him out of the saddle.

"Sire, are you sure you should be riding while your shoulder is still healing?" he asked gently.

"It's fine, Lancelot," said Arthur, wincing in pain as he readjusted his sling. "Go and see to the horses."

"Of course, sire."

By the time Merlin had managed to light the fire - after taking an interminably long time messing with the flint and trying to make a spark - and dinner was slowly cooking over the flames, Arthur had gotten over his earlier pettishness and was ready for his main evening sulk, wrapping himself in his cloak and glowering at the flames, studiously ignoring the way that Merlin was pouting at him.

Lancelot, apparently not finished in his duties as resident mother hen, sat down gingerly next to his prince.

"I'm looking forward to dinner. He makes a good stew, does he not?" said Lancelot, nodding towards where Merlin was jabbing at the fire, the dancing flames creating strange shadows on his face.

"Yes, at least he's capable of not poisoning us," said Arthur idly.

"Merlin's capable of a great deal more than you might think, my lord," said Lancelot delicately.

"Oh, not you as well," scoffed Arthur. "No, I don't want to hear any of this. I just want to go to sleep and then go and kill something in the morning."

"It pains me to see you like this, sire."

"I'm absolutely fine. My shoulder is nearly healed."

"That is not what I meant," said Lancelot softly, kind sorrow in his eyes. "I fear what will happen if you do not have Merlin to watch your back."

"I can't put my trust in people who would lie to me," snapped Arthur, wrapping his cloak more firmly around himself and turning his face away. "You would do well to remember that."

Lancelot just squeezed his arm in a comradely manner and wandered off to investigate the food situation.

When Arthur tucked into his bowl of stew, shoved angrily into his hands by Merlin, he couldn't help feeling a flash of annoyance at how delicious it was.

"I think your victory speech may have been a little premature, sire," shouted Merlin as they pelted down the mountainside away from a rampaging herd of wilddeoren.

Spying a convenient opening in the rock face, Arthur grabbed Merlin by the arm and pulled them into a small cave, watching as the rodents of unusual size stampeded past them.

"I can't believe how many of them there are," Merlin continued, rubbing at the Gaia berry juice that coated his skin. "I wouldn't have thought there would be much food in there, but I imagine they might be eating those giant spiders."

"Do you ever shut up?" hissed Arthur, leaning against the rock and panting, his face screwed up in pain. Their attack plan had gone badly wrong, and he strongly suspected that his knights had become entangled in the giant, sticky webs that were draped everywhere in the cave.

"I've barely spoken to you in weeks."

"Yes, I remember the blissful silence."

Merlin gave him a sceptical once-over, and Arthur tried to suppress the feeling of relief that washed over him at having their familiar banter to distract him from their dire situation.

"You look terrible."

"Thank you, Merlin. I'd like to see how put together you'd be after dislocating your shoulder for the second time in a month."

"Gaius did tell you to rest it for ten weeks," he tutted, starting to untie the sling without asking and probing around the joint.

"Gaius doesn't have a kingdom to run," grumbled Arthur, submitting unwillingly to Merlin's examination in the interest of getting back to the action as quickly as possible.

He didn't realise what Merlin was doing until he was gripping his bicep and the back of his shoulder with sure hands and lining them up carefully.

"Are you about to-" His question was cut off when he gave out a strangled yelp of anguish as Merlin seated the joint back into the socket.

"It's going to keep doing that unless you rest it and let the muscle fibres heal," Merlin admonished him, re-tying the sling and fussing about to make sure that his elbow was in the right position.

"Is that all you can do? Can't you just," - Arthur wiggled the fingers of his good hand - "magic it better?"

Merlin stopped short. "I didn't think you'd want me to."

"You really are an idiot, aren't you?"

"Sire?"

"Just... get on with it."

Merlin positioned his hands either side of Arthur's shoulder, not quite touching it, and his eyes glowed amber as he recited the incantation. "Befége wenlic bog," he hissed.

Arthur sagged in relief as the ever-present, bone-deep ache in his shoulder disappeared. He flexed his fingers experimentally and then picked up his sword, climbing out of the hollow in the rock and dragging Merlin behind him.

"Come on," he said grimly, setting his jaw. "We've got a spider to squash."

#merlin #merthur #my fics #destiny

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zaharya · 3 years ago

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Z's Whumptober 2021 – Masterpost

This is a masterpost for my entire Whumptober 2021 series, which you can find here on Ao3. (The individual fics are linked in each title.)

(Don't You Dare) Let Go – G, 1k words, Merlin/Arthur Pendragon

Faint shouts echoed through the trees. The bandits were onto them. “Arthur, you have to let go.” “What?!” “You have to let go,” Merlin repeated. “Run. They won’t be so careless the second time if they catch you.”

Day 1 prompts; "You have to let go", Bound

Canon Era

Noble('s) Wrath – M, 7.1k words, Merlin/Arthur Pendragon

“Yes, right, you deserve rest,” Galen interrupted him. His tone had gone from kind to patronising. “How would you like to rest more comfortably tonight, Merlin?” “Sorry?” Galen gave him a pitying look. “I mean that I would enjoy your company tonight, Merlin. Surely the prince hasn’t tired you out completely.” It took a moment before Merlin understood what he meant. He tore his wrist out of the other man’s grip and took a step back, trying to keep the horrified expression off his face. “I don’t serve Arthur in that way, nor would I someone else.” Or: A visiting noble propositions to Merlin and does not take Merlin’s rejection well. But Lord Galen’s displeasure pales compared to Arthur’s fury.

Day 2 and day 3 prompts; Choking, "Who did this to you"

Canon Era, magic reveal

No Stranger At All – T, 2.8k words, Merlin & Gwaine

Gwaine is working off a debt when Cenred's men return with a captured Merlin – and he could hardly just watch and do nothing, right?

Day 4 prompts; "Do you trust me?", Taken hostage

Canon Era, magic reveal

Lancelot's Last Resort – G, 1.4k words, Merlin/Arthur Pendragon

Merlin is determined to sacrifice himself in Arthur's stead, and Lancelot is forced to take drastic measures in an effort to save everyone.

Day 5 prompt; Betrayal

Canon Era, magic reveal

I Didn't Know That I Was Starving 'till I Tasted You – G, 8.1k words, Merlin/Arthur Pendragon

“I would’ve thought you knew that I would never hurt you, Merlin, but I suppose I was wrong. When we return, you are relieved from your duties as my manservant for the time being.” “Arthur, please, I—” “Shut up, Merlin!” Arthur had shouted, the anger Merlin had expected finally bursting out of him. “I can hardly stand to look at you without losing my temper! Just— I need some space. To … think.” — In the wake of Merlin's magic being revealed, both Arthur and Merlin fall into patterns that threaten to undo them. Or: Arthur is touch-starved, Merlin is just starving.

Day 6 prompts; Hunger, Touch-Starved

Canon Era, post magic reveal

Just a Chill – G, 1.5k words, Gwaine/Lancelot

Lancelot catches the winter chill along with everyone else in Camelot – only he doesn't recover. With Gaius at wit's end, the last resort is Merlin's magic.

Day 8 prompts; Exotic Illness, Definitely just a cold

Canon Era, post magic reveal

Stay With Me – M, 4.3k words, Merlin/Arthur Pendragon

“Sorcerer! Sorcerer in the court!” screamed Uther, his face red with rage. “Seize him!” “No! Father, he saved our lives!” exclaimed Arthur. “A ploy, to deceive us, to make us trust him! All magic is corrupted, Arthur, when will you learn? I want him dead at once!” Or: The reveal of Merlin's magic drives Uther into a rage with fatal consequences.

Day 9 prompts; Presumed dead, (blind) rage, tears

Canon Era, magic reveal, temporary character death

Waters Deep (As Your Secrets) – T, 4.3k words, Merlin/Arthur Pendragon

“—prat, come on!” Hard, rhythmic pressure on his chest. “You cannot die on me here, you stupid, arrogant, moron of a prince!” Merlin? A soft, warm mouth blowing air into him. Air. He needed air. Or: Arthur is aware of everything that happens around him while he's under Sophia's spell – and he learns more than he'd ever have dreamed.

Day 11 prompts; Drowning, Dehydration

Canon Era, magic reveal

Burn Like Her, Burn Like Me – M, 1.6k words, Merlin/Arthur Pendragon

His magic raged inside him, fighting to break free. It was useless. Cold iron, tight and heavy around his strung-up wrists, shackled his magic as effectively as his arms. It hurt nearly as much as the whipping did. Twelve. A sob clawed its way out of his throat despite his best efforts. “Finally,” drawled the man behind him. “I was beginning to worry you’d pass out before I got to hear your pretty voice.” — Arthur is forced to watch as Merlin burns.

Day 12 prompts; Torture, Made to watch, Begging

Canon Era, post magic reveal

A Mark Of Survival – G, 1.7k words, Merlin/Arthur Pendragon

Barely having survived Camlann, Merlin and Arthur return to a grieving, broken Camelot. As the kingdom heals, so does Arthur – but some scars won't fade.

Day 16 prompts; Aftermath, Recovery, Scars

Canon Era (post-Canon), post magic reveal

My Breath In Your Lungs – M, 6.5k words, Merlin/Arthur Pendragon

“Like your fish boy, do you? Well, in you go then.” He tore open the grid, hit Arthur again and pushed him inside the tank. Arthur’s eyes widened with panic, and he surged up towards the surface — only to have the iron grid slammed in his face, trapping him underwater. He beat his fist against it, bubbles of precious air escaping his mouth in a wordless scream. Or: After saving a human from drowning, Merlin is captured and imprisoned in a tank. When help finally arrives, things might just get worse instead of better.

Day 20 prompts; Trapped Underwater, Solitary Confinement

Merman!Merlin AU

Blackout, Beaming, Gold – M, 18.7k words, Merlin/Arthur Pendragon Art by Sunfall_of_Ennien

"Congratulations, Mr Pendragon; a fine purchase.” And just like that all air was sucked from Merlin’s lungs. Purchase. He had been sold. Bought. And bought meant— “If you would follow me, Mr Pendragon, there are some final procedures to complete in order to finalise your transaction; Mr Aredian will see to you momentarily. I hope you brought an iron seal of your family crest for the branding?” —branded. —— In a city of copper and steam, the life of Arthur Pendragon takes a turn when he finds himself inexplicably mesmerised by a slave in iron shackles on the market stage. His name; Merlin. Over the five years since his capture, Merlin has only been sure of one thing; that nobody can afford him. But then, nobody is as rich as a Pendragon.

Prompts from days 7, 13, 23, 25, and 27; Helplessness, Numbness, Burns, Escape, Pursuit, Hiding, Auction, Collapse, Passing Out

Steampunk AU, Slave!Merlin

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rosedavid · 5 years ago

Text

Slip-Ups

A Merthur hurt/comfort fanfic

tw // blood and injury description //

Prompt: Merlin gets injured nothing too serious, but Arthur gets into super over protective mode and refuses to leave his side. Throughout the day people keep coming in to remind him of his princely duties, but Morgana ends up blocking them and sending them away so that Arthur can spend time helping Merlin.

...

Usually, Merlin is more careful than this. Okay, well, careful to an extent. There’s a difference between being carefully reckless and just reckless all together. Today, though, he’s particularly on edge. It’s been a tedious week full of constant running about. Arthur’s seemed to be in an especially bad mood recently, as well, probably because he’s been just as busy as Merlin. With his duties as King starting to mount up to incredulous levels, Arthur’s been at wit’s end recently trying to manage his new role and duties. As a result, he’s been working everyone harder; his advisors, the knights, and of course Merlin himself. With every usual duty, Arthur decides to stack on three more for Merlin to do, with a quick grumble of, “Hurry it up!”

Now, completely exhausted and frustrated, Merlin is in Arthur’s chambers at night haphazardly finishing the prat’s chores. All Merlin wants is to collapse into bed and sleep for the next few days, although he knows that won’t be possible. His stomach growls as he cleans up. Despite his previous reservations about Gaius’s meals, nothing sounds better right now than a big bowl of gruel.

“Stupid King Prat,” Merlin growls to himself, scrubbing ruthlessly at Arthur’s filthy armor. “Merlin, you missed a speck of dust on my armor! I’ll have you thrown in the stocks! Merlin, my sword is getting rusty! I’ll show him.”

The worst part is that before all of this, Arthur was actually starting to be (sort of) nice. Until this week, Merlin hadn’t been forced to muck out the stables in months. Although their constant bickering continued then, it was lighter than usual, more playful. Things had been going well, in other words. And now, Merlin feels like he’s been dragged through the mud.

After sufficiently getting his anger out scrubbing Arthur’s already clean armor, Merlin switches to the sword resting on the table’s edge. This is where things go horribly wrong. So pent up with frustration and weariness, Merlin grapples above him blindly for the sword, still muttering insults. In that moment, he fails to grab the correct end of the sword. Instead, his hand slices against the sharp edges of the sword. He bites back a curse, yanking his hand away. Of course, since luck loves Merlin at the moment, the sword comes with it, slicing even further down to his wrist.

Merlin clutches at his bleeding hand shakily. Blood pools in his palm, red tendrils slipping down his arm and dripping on the just washed floors. Still trying to comprehend what just happened, Merlin stares at the drops of blood, watching as they fall from his hand. This, of course, is when Arthur chooses to stumble into his chambers.

“You would not believe the day I had!” Arthur groans, stomping through the doors. “I can’t even breathe without someone telling me I’m doing it wrong! Not to mention, my incompetent manservant doesn’t even have dinner ready for me!”

Merlin continues staring at the blood numbly. Realizing that Merlin isn’t biting back like usual, Arthur finally turns toward him with an open mouth ready to berate Merlin yet again for something trivial. But the words die on his lips when he catches sight of the boy bleeding all over the floor.

“Merlin!” He cries out, rushing over to the boy. “You idiot! You’re bleeding all over the place.”

“Am I?” Merlin wonders, head going a bit fuzzy. Along with the blood loss and lack of food and sleep, his consciousness is gradually wavering.

“What in God’s name happened?!”

“Had to clean your sword, prat,” Merlin slurs, the conversation bringing him back a bit into reality. Also, the reality of his pain. “Ouch. That hurts a bit.”

Arthur rolls his eyes, and if Merlin didn’t know any better, he would think Arthur looked scared behind his façade. But why would Arthur be scared? It may be a lot of blood, but it’s just a cut; Gaius will have him stitched up in no time at all. Besides, based on this week, Arthur didn’t seem to care too much about Merlin’s well-being. Why would he suddenly care now?

“What did you do, gouge your hand open?” Arthur frowns, tearing off a piece of his own tunic before Merlin can protest. He then kneels by Merlin’s side.

Merlin hisses as Arthur presses the tunic firmly into the crevice of his palm. “Now I hafta…mend that too, prat.”

Arthur doesn’t respond; instead, he furrows his eyebrows and purses his lips as he applies more pressure to Merlin’s still bleeding wound. “Think you can stand?”

“’Course I can stand!” Merlin argues. To prove his point, he abruptly pushes himself off the ground, only to find the world spinning around him. He gasps, tipping dangerously. Luckily, Arthur still has his firm grasp on Merlin’s bleeding hand, so the instant he starts swaying, he falls into Arthur’s side instead of back onto the floor. Merlin blinks away black spots and tries to ignore the pain lacing from his hand.

“….almost fell, you idiot!” Arthur’s voice comes back into focus. “What if I hadn’t been here? Would you have just bled out on my floor?”

“I’m fine,” Merlin stresses again.

“You’re ridiculous, Merlin. Come on, let’s get you to Gaius.”

With that, Arthur takes Merlin’s good arm and wraps it around his own neck. Then, he wraps one arm around Merlin’s waist while the other continues to hold the now soaked rag tightly to Merlin’s wound. It’s an awkward position that makes it hard to walk, but somehow they manage to make it all the way to Gaius without Merlin passing out (although they had to stop a few times to avoid it).

Arthur yanks open the door, immediately alerting Gaius to their presence. With the combination of Arthur’s panicked expression and blood still dripping onto the floor beneath Merlin, Gaius stands up quickly to help.

“My goodness, what happened?” Gaius asks, bringing Merlin over to the nearest patient cot. Arthur helps ease Merlin down into a sitting position while Gaius gathers supplies, including a clean rag to continue to staunch the flow of blood.

“Sword fell,” Merlin mumbles grumpily, not wanting to hear Arthur’s recount of the tale complete with insults and jibes at his manservant.

“Will he be okay?” Arthur buts in, holding the new rag to Merlin’s hand per Gaius’s instruction.

Gaius briefly lifts the rag against Merlin’s cut up to inspect the wound. It’s still bleeding, but not quite as profusely as it was before. “Yes, sire. It will require some stiches and it will be sore for a few days, but you got him here fast enough that infection shouldn’t start in.”

Arthur lets out a deep breath, stepping back to allow Gaius to clean Merlin’s wound. To Merlin’s credit, he only winces and hisses through his teeth as Gaius cleans up the wound. After all the excitement, though, Arthur can clearly see the fatigue covering Merlin. Guiltily, Arthur stares at him, suddenly realizing just how harsh he’s been to his manservant this week. It’s not like Arthur meant to, it’s just with all the pressures of his new duties as well as his newfound feelings…he thought it best to put Merlin away and to work. If he hadn’t made Merlin do so many chores, perhaps Merlin wouldn’t be injured so badly.

“Drink this, Merlin, it will put you to sleep while I do your stitches,” Gaius coaxes, bringing a vial of probably foul-tasting liquid to his lips. Merlin doesn’t complain, though, simply swallowing it quickly. In an instant, his eyes begin to get heavy, world blurring around him, before he finally falls into a deep slumber.

Arthur stares at Merlin for an unknown amount of time before Gaius clears his throat. When Arthur looks back up, he realizes that Merlin’s wound has been all stitched up. It gives him a clear view of the length of the cut, extending from the top of Merlin’s palm down to the bottom of his wrist.

“He is okay, sire,” Gaius reassures him, placing one comforting hand on his shoulder. Arthur nods through clenched teeth. “Sire, if I may…the guards came by asking for you a few minutes ago. You have a meeting to attend soon. Perhaps you should get yourself cleaned up.”

Arthur is confused at first because one, he doesn’t remember the guards coming by the physician’s chambers, and two, he doesn’t know why Gaius says he should clean himself up. He only begins to understand the second one when he finally takes a look at his hands, caked with dried blood. Merlin’s blood.

He doesn’t want to leave Merlin’s side for a second, but he also knows that he can’t forget his duties as King. Conflicted, Arthur looks back at Merlin’s pale face tucked into the side of the pillow with a fondness he never knew he possessed.

“I shouldn’t leave him,” Arthur decides. “Not like this.”

“I understand your concerns, sire, but what if I had one of the knights sit with Merlin in your absence? Sir Gwaine would be willing, I’m sure.”

Arthur considers it, but shakes his head. “No, I just…I can’t leave him like this, Gaius. W-what if this was my fault? It’s been a busy week, and I’ve been working him really hard, probably harder than he deserves—”

“Arthur,” Gaius addresses kindly. “It’s been a busy week for us all. Everyone is tired and frustrated, including Merlin. It sounds to me like it was just an accident, nothing more. You couldn’t have prevented that.”

Arthur purses his lips but says nothing. Meanwhile, Gaius pulls up a seat beside Arthur, gently coaxing him down into it. “Let me at least get you a fresh basin and rag to wash your hands off, sire.”

“Yes, that would be good. Thank you,” Arthur clears his throat, not wanting to see this much of Merlin’s blood ever again.

As Arthur sits there through the remainder of the evening, guards and members of the court come and go, trying to coax Arthur away with no success. Despite some of their glares toward Arthur’s manservant, and some frankly rude comments, Arthur refuses to budge. A few hours later, he thinks that the guards are about to forcefully drag him out of the room when an unlikely hero comes to his rescue.

“Can’t you see the King is doing something important already?! He’s been at everyone’s beck and call all week, so I think you can survive without him for one goddamn night!” a feminine voice shouts outside the hallway. Then, there are determined footsteps before the door is being opened and closed gently, a large contrast to the tone mere seconds ago.

Morgana stands in front of the doorway, as regal and snarky as ever. Even though Arthur tends to butt heads with Morgana more than he does anyone else, he suddenly feels a great relief for her actions. As much as he hates to admit it, he probably owes her one, but he’ll think about that later. Right now, as per Gaius’s instructions who left to take care of a woman giving birth in the lower town, Arthur needs to keep his eyes on Merlin to be sure an infection won’t take hold.

Silently, Morgana strides over to the other side of Merlin’s cot, where the boy lies deathly still and pale. The only thing keeping Arthur from completely losing it is watching the steady rise and fall of Merlin’s chest. That, and clutching at Merlin’s uninjured hand, which he drops when Morgana comes into the room (although he’s pretty certain she saw since Morgana has eyes like a hawk).

“He looks exhausted,” Morgana comments, glancing at the boy’s stitched up hand.

“Yeah,” Arthur agrees quietly, eyes latched on Merlin.

“You look exhausted too, Arthur.”

Arthur waves her off. “I’m fine. It doesn’t matter anyway, I have to stay awake to take care of him.”

“Well, you won’t be any use to him if you pass out.”

“ But I can’t—”

“I will watch over him, Arthur,” Morgana interrupts. “I am Merlin’s friend too, after all. Although I have a feeling that he may mean something more to you.”

A red flush brightens on Arthur’s cheeks, a mix between embarrassment, anger, and thoughts of Merlin. “Morgana!”

“Hush, I have eyes, you know. I can tell you’re both infatuated with each other. Please, Arthur, go lie down and rest.”

“If you truly know, then you understand I can’t leave him.”

Morgana purses her lips in thought. “Then take Merlin’s bed. I’m completely sure he wouldn’t mind. Gaius or myself will wake you when Merlin wakes up, himself.”

The thought of sleeping in Merlin’s bed sends shivers down Arthur’s spine. It’s not like the bed is anything special based on when Arthur has seen it. In fact, it’s probably more uncomfortable than most of the beds in the castle. But because it’s Merlin’s bed, it won’t feel uncomfortable to Arthur. He hates to admit when Morgana is right, but she has a few good points. Too tired to argue anymore, Arthur takes Merlin’s hand again and squeezes it, bidding him goodnight. Morgana takes his place, hand lingering on Arthur’s forearm.

“Promise you will wake me if anything at all happens?”

“Yes, Arthur. I will. Now please, you look worse than Merlin. Get some rest. Merlin will be fine.”

Arthur barely registers climbing up the steps to Merlin’s room. He practically collapses onto the bed. He breathes in a combination of the smell of soap and Merlin. It’s like home. Nuzzling his face into Merlin’s pillow, Arthur almost instantly falls asleep.

…

The sunlight is the first thing to wake him up, streaming through the window and lighting up the entire room. The second thing he registers is the sound of people moving about in the kitchen. Although Arthur wants nothing more than to curl back under the covers and fall asleep, his waking thoughts immediately drift once again to Merlin. What if Merlin is awake? Or what if he’s worse than before? Arthur shoots up out of the bed immediately while thoughts plague his head. He’s aware of how gross he probably looks and smells, still dressed in yesterday’s clothes, but he can’t bring himself to care.

Stumbling out of the room, his eyes search out the familiar black mop of hair. He finds it quickly, still tousled as Merlin sleeps on the cot. Morgana has now been replaced by Gwen, who is helping Gaius organize some herbs and medicines.

“Gaius, how is he?” Arthur clears his throat, trying to sound less worried than he really is. Based on Gaius’s raised eyebrow, it doesn’t work.

“He’s doing well, sire,” Gaius responds with a slight smile. “He stirred a bit in the night, but fell into a deeper sleep. But based on the medicine I gave him, I bet he’ll be waking up anytime now.”

Somewhat relieved, Arthur goes to take his place at Merlin’s side again, but Gwen coaxes him away. “Have some food, your majesty. Based on what Morgana told me, you haven’t eaten since yesterday afternoon.”

Begrudgingly, Arthur sits down at the table, biting into an apple. He is hungry, but right now food just doesn’t sound appetizing. Still, he manages to eat a bit, even chatting with Gwen about random goings on in the town. It’s only about half an hour later when Merlin begins to fidget.

Arthur, of course, is the first one by his side. Merlin squirms, wincing as he rolls over on his stitched hand. Arthur rolls his eyes before helping un-trap Merlin’s hand. As he grabs Merlin’s hand, one finger traces beside the stitches in a delicate, almost not-there touch. Finally, Merlin’s eyes flutter open, looking dazed.

“ ‘Thur?” Merlin murmurs, squinting up at him.

“Yes, you dollop-head, it’s me,” Arthur teases, still stroking his hand.

“That’s my word.”

“Is it? Because I think it describes you much better.”

Gaius takes that moment to interrupt. “Merlin, how are you feeling?”

Merlin hums, sitting up more. “I feel fine. Hand’s a bit sore, but otherwise I’m okay. Can I get up, stretch my legs?”

“As long as you take care not to exhaust yourself, that should be fine.”

Arthur frowns, “Are you sure, Gaius? I mean, Merlin was just badly injured. Should he really be up and about already?”

“I’m okay Arthur, truly,” Merlin smiles. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were worried about me.”

In a rare moment of affection, Arthur blurts out, “Of course I was worried about you, idiot!”

Merlin gapes. “Y-you were?”

“Merlin—I found you dripping with your own blood, and it was my fault. I thought—I mean, what if I hadn’t been there in time? You could have bled out!”

Merlin’s face goes stern. “Arthur, this wasn’t your fault. If anything, it was my fault. I should have been more careful.”

“I should have noticed how exhausted you were, though. I’ve just been so caught up in everything…”

Arthur feels a hand intertwine with his own. His heart picks up speed, and Merlin looks at him hesitantly. Arthur makes no move to pull away, simply squeezing Merlin’s good hand with his own. Merlin softens at that, unconsciously leaning towards him.

“You were kind of being a prat,” Merlin admits, earning him a glare. “but I know you’ve been overwhelmed recently, too, with everything that’s been going on. I don’t blame you at all.”

Arthur swallows. “Yes, well, I suppose you deserve a day off after all this.”

At this, Merlin snorts. “How generous, my lord.”

“Hey, I can take that day away!”

Both of them are beaming by now, impossibly closer to each other. With a tenderness seldom shown to anyone else, Arthur brushes a stray strand of Merlin’s hair from out of his eyes, pressing a kiss to his forehead. Merlin leans into his touch.

“I’m glad you’re ok,” Arthur whispers, stroking his temple with one thumb. There’s so much they need to say, but right now isn’t the time. Instead, they both stand there, taking each other in. There will be time for sorting everything out properly later. Right now, they are content to relish each other’s company.

“Me, too.”

#merthur #merthur fanfic #merlin bbc #bbc merlin #arthur pendragon #merlin fanfic #merthur fanfiction #merthur fic #merlin fanfiction #merlin emrys #morgana pendragon #gwen #gaius #hurt/comfort #tw blood #fanfiction

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cupcakezys · 5 years ago

Note

Fun challenge for you! (If you wanna do it): Re-write an Arwen scene to Merthur😉

Oooooo yes! Sorry this took a while, I just had so many different ideas and life did not want to give me a break to write any of them. Also, I know you said an Arwen scene… but I might have written a little more than that. So have this way-bigger-than-I-meant-it-to-be fic. ^_^

Read on AO3.

Merthur under the cut!

“I can’t believe you convinced me to stay with you.” Arthur groaned, looking around Merlin’s tiny room. “Was there nowhere else I could stay?”

Merlin rolled his eyes and shoved his semi-clean tunics back into his closet. “We need to keep you out of sight, and Gaius may not know you’re here but he does know your magical beast is about as real as-“

“Your serving skills?” Arthur asked, amused, as he lifts an old bowl Merlin had been meaning to clean for weeks now. The inside had turned a slight red from the soup that had been in it. “Truly, Merlin, this is disgusting. You can’t expect me to stay here.”

Merlin, having spotted his magic book peeking out from under his bed, dived for it, feigning grabbing for his fallen pillows. “You really can’t go without your big bed and your soft pillows? Maybe I could ask Gwen if she’d let you stay with her, or we could hide you in Morgana’s chambers if you really can’t live without your precious royal bed.”

Arthur’s face pinched and he turned away from Merlin, allowing him to grab the book and throw it into the bottom of his closet. He breathed a silent sigh of relief and went back to fixing his bed.

“This will be fine.” Arthur finally said, tense like Merlin was telling him he needed to walk through hot coals.

He rolled his eyes. “Prat.”

Arthur pretended not to hear him. “How are the preparations coming along? Have we found someone to play our knight in the tournament?”

We, he said, like it wasn’t Merlin doing all the work. “Absolutely. He’s a farmer from one of the outlying villages, and no one will recognise him.”

Arthur didn’t look convinced. “But does he look the part?”

Merlin shrugged. “Well…”

“Merlin.” Arthur hissed the moment he opened his bedroom door, making him drop the large pile of washing in his arms, and gods, why did he have to do that.

“What?” He snapped, irritated. He’d only half cleaned the leech tank and still had to do the laundry and scrub the floor. His knees hurt just thinking about it.

“Do you think anyone suspects us?”

Merlin sighed and sat on the edge of his bed. Arthur had taken it the first night, and though Merlin could have complained and gotten it back, he didn’t. Arthur had offered to sleep on the floor the instant he’d seen Merlin lay down, of course, because he may be a prat, but he was a noble knight too. Merlin had refused and gotten a pillow to the face, Arthur’s laughter following him into sleep.

Now he shifted so he was facing Arthur, just barely able to make him out in the darkness. “I doubt it. From what Gwen’s told me, the ladies of the court are quite impressed with Sir William. They think he’s very handsome.”

Arthur snorted. “Typical. He wouldn’t know a real knight if he whacked him round the head with his lance.”

Merlin shook his head, though he couldn’t stop the grin crawling onto his face. “Is all this really worth it?”

Arthur sighed. “Yes. I don’t expect you to understand, but when I’m competing as William, my title doesn’t matter, nobody gives me any special treatment. So when I win this tournament-if I win this tournament, it will be because I deserve it and not because I am Prince Arthur.”

“I think I understand.” Merlin said, though he wished he didn’t. If Arthur’s status as the future king of Camelot kept him from harm then Merlin wasn’t complaining. He hesitated a moment, but Arthur didn’t say anything more, so he stood. “I need to finish these chores for Gaius.”

Arthur sighed, tired and quiet. Merlin gathered his washing and slipped from the room, careful not to wake him.

Merlin startled awake to Gaius standing over him, eyebrow raised, and his head pounding from a night spent sprawled uncomfortably on the floor. A quick glance outside showed the late morning sun shining brightly in the sky. Arthur would have left by now, nervous as he had been this whole tournament. Merlin wasn’t sure why he hadn’t woken him, but he knew he’d be in for it when he went down to the tournament grounds today.

“Merlin, on your feet.” Gaius said sternly. “Arthur may be away, but I’m not. And why is my leech tank still dirty? Where do you get the idea you can sit around all day doing nothing?”

“Wha-?” Merlin pushed himself up, irritation and anger born from all the stress and exhaustion of the past few days rising up before he could stop it. “Do you think I sit around doing nothing?! I haven’t had a chance to sit around and do nothing since the day I arrived in Camelot! I’m too busy running around after Arthur! Do this, Merlin! Do that, Merlin! And when I’m not running around after Arthur, I’m doing chores for you! And if I’m not doing that, I’m fulfilling my destiny! Do you know how many times I’ve saved Arthur’s life?”

Gaius opened his mouth, but Merlin didn’t give him the chance to say anything. He was too angry, and it was like a dam had been broken within him. He didn’t think he could stop himself now, even if he wanted to.

“I’ve lost count. Do I get any thanks? No. I have fought griffins, witches, erm- bandits! I have been punched, poisoned, pelted with fruit, and all the while I have to hide who I really am, because if anyone finds out, Uther will have me executed! Sometimes I feel like I’m being pulled in so many directions, I don’t know which way to turn!”

He was panting by the end of his rant, and all of a sudden he felt exhausted. Gaius was looking at him like he’d never seen him before, but Merlin didn’t feel like talking anymore, let alone apologising, so he spun on his feet and all but ran for his room. He slammed the door behind him and all but collapsed against it.

He heard a door close, knew Gaius had left, and sighed.

Then promptly screamed when he opened his eyes and saw Arthur sitting in his bed, hair sleep tousled and eyes wide.

He clapped his hands over his mouth. “How much did you hear?”

Arthur blinked. “Why would my father have you executed?”

“Arthur-!” Merlin stepped forward, only to jerk back when Arthur flinched, reaching for a sword he didn’t have.

“Are you a spy?” Arthur hissed, more awake now, and Merlin panicked.

“No! I was just- I was born differently. In a way that the king wouldn’t approve of.” He wanted to run, rather than have this conversation.

But Arthur was staring at him in confusion, and Merlin knew if he ran now he might never get the chance to explain himself. He wasn’t sure if it would even matter, if he could lie his way out of this one, but he had to try.

Arthur frowned. “You were born- what, because of magic? Some sort of spell?”

“No.” Merlin shivered, his voice dropping to a whisper. He didn’t even think, too caught up in his earlier anger and the panic now making his heart pound. “Arthur. I was born with magic.”

He immediately clamped his hands back over his mouth. Damnit. Curse his stupid mouth for speaking before he could think. Fear crawled up his back as he watched the prince closely.

Arthur blinked twice before he slowly shook his head. “No. You don’t- I would know if you had magic!”

“I’ve had to hide it all my life, for fear of what would happen if the wrong person found out.” Merlin swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat. “If your father found out. How was I supposed to tell you?”

They stared at each other for a long time, until Arthur grabbed his cloak and pulled it around himself. Merlin pressed himself into the door as Arthur approached him, and hated that Arthur refused to even look at him.

“Move.” Arthur growled.

Merlin shivered. “What are you going to do?”

Arthur’s jaw twitched. “I have a tournament to win.”

“O-oh.” He slid out of the way, shoulders hunched, as Arthur slipped past him.

Arthur paused. “Your services are no longer required.”

And then he was gone, and Merlin collapsed onto the ground, heart shrivelling in his chest.

Merlin wondered the marketplace in a daze. He had no idea where Gaius was. He suspected he was at the tournament – watching in case anyone got hurt, ready to tend the stupid, bull-headed knights that liked to stab at each other with sharp objects.

Merlin didn’t know for sure. He couldn’t know for sure, because he refused to go anywhere near the tourney grounds. The risk of running into Arthur wasn’t too high, considering the prince was pretending to be away on a mission, but still Merlin didn’t want to risk it. He was afraid of what he might do – whether he’d beg Arthur to forgive him or scream at him for being such a prat when it was Merlin that had to live his life in fear.

No, it was best to stay far away, and that was why he was wondering the marketplace, a bag full of his belongings over his shoulder, as he contemplated leaving.

He wasn’t sure he actually could. Camelot had become his home this past year, and he was reluctant to leave it, whether Arthur hated him or not. He didn’t want to leave Gaius, or Gwen, or Morgana, and who knew how long Kilgharrah might have to wait alone in the dark before someone made their way down to his cave and spoke to him again. The old dragon might have been selfish and just a little manipulative, but Merlin couldn’t imagine spending twenty years alone in the dark, and the idea of leaving anyone to that fate made his gut twist uncomfortably.

On the other hand, if Arthur truly did hate him now, could he trust him to keep his secret? Merlin didn’t know, and it was both terrifying and infuriating. If Arthur couldn’t see all that Merlin had done for him, maybe he wasn’t the once and future king Kilgharrah had foretold he would be.

Maybe he wasn’t everything Merlin had believed him to be.

“Merlin?” A voice called, startling him out of his thoughts.

He jerked around. “Gwen?”

She hurried over to him, a basket in her arms, and Merlin idly wondered what was in it. “What are you doing here? I thought you were helping Sir William.”

Merlin felt his smile turn forced. “He didn’t need me today.”

“Does that mean you missed his bout against Sir Leon?’

Merlin didn’t want to be curious, but he was. “Why? What happened?”

Gwen bit her lip. “Well, he looked really distracted. Sir Leon almost unseated him twice before Sir William managed to catch him in the side and knock him off. He made it into the final.”

Merlin released a quiet breath. “That’s good.”

“I also happened to pass by his tent after the match.” Gwen said, in that knowing way of hers, and Merlin immediately winced.

“Gwen-“

She held up a hand. “It’s alright. He explained. I mean, I understand, to an extent, why but- I mean obviously I couldn’t ever really understand why, I’m not a knight but- you know what I mean.”

Merlin smiled, a real one this time, even if it was only small. Trust Gwen to cheer him up by just being herself.

“He also asked me the best way to apologise to someone he cared for.” She glanced at him meaningly, then chuckled to herself. “Well, he asked in his own way, without asking.”

Merlin swallowed thickly, his throat suddenly dry. “What did you say?”

“I told him that actions speak louder than words, and if he really wanted to apologise he should do something to prove it.” Merlin would be surprised that Gwen had spoken up to the Prince of Camelot, but he knew how determined she could be when allowed the courage to speak freely. Arthur wasn’t someone she needed to hold her tongue around. “So he came up with a plan.”

Merlin leaned close, trying to ignore the way his heart was beating faster by the second. “And what is this grand plan of his?”

Gwen grinned. “He’s going to cook you dinner.”

Merlin jolted. That he was not expecting. “He’s… cooking? Arthur?”

Gwen nodded, almost laughing now, and Merlin had to wonder if this was all some elaborate prank.

Then he imagined Arthur, Prince of Camelot, cooking him dinner, and the fear for Gaius’s tower had him sprinting for the castle.

Merlin only slowed when he reached the bottom of Gaius’s tower. He could hear the faint sounds of cursing coming from the top, and although Gaius should be making potions for tomorrows patients, he suspected his mentor wasn’t the one currently condemning all chickens to an eternity in hell.

He pushed open the door slowly, almost afraid of what he would see.

Thankfully, nothing was on fire. Arthur stood in the corner of the room by the fire, a raw chicken in his hands, and as Merlin watched he frantically tried to find a way to dispose of the chicken in the fire. Eventually the prince threw it in the empty cooking pot and turned back to the rest of the room.

Two dinners from the palace kitchens sat on the bench, and Merlin wasn’t sure if he felt relieved or disappointed.

Looking at Gaius’s still-intact rooms, he decided he was very relieved.

He swallowed and opened the door. “Gwen told me you were cooking.”

Arthur jumped and glanced up at him, guilt and just a touch of fear on his face before he swallowed it back behind his princely mask. “Merlin.”

He inclined his head to the dinners on the table. “You’re not cooking.”

Arthur glanced at it and grimaced. “Look, I can kill a chicken from a thousand paces, just don’t ask me to cook it. That’s what servants are for.” Merlin raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms. Arthur winced. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

Merlin sighed and pushed the door closed behind him. “I’m not ashamed to be a servant. I told you before, didn’t I? I’m happy to be your servant until the day I die.”

Arthur made a small, strangled sound. “Why?”

Merlin turned around and shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable. “Because I believe in the world you will build.”

“Even though you’re a sorcerer?”

Arthur’s voice was tense, hard, but it wasn’t cold like Merlin had feared.

“Yes.” Merlin met Arthur’s eyes, the first time he had since he had admitted his secret, and was surprised to find Arthur unwilling to look away. “I know you will create a land free and full of peace, a world where ordinary people no longer have to fear for their lives and the rulers of Albion don’t fight each other, but join together to create a golden age of prosperity unlike any other.”

He shifted, looked at his feet as his hands clenched behind his back.

“Even if you never learned of my magic.” He whispered. “Even if it was still banned and you only ever believed it was evil, I would still believe in you. I would still protect you, no matter the cost.”

This time, Arthur sounded a little bit awed, and a little bit broken when he spoke. “How can you be so sure?”

Merlin simply smiled at his boots, a sad thing, and shook his head. “You wouldn’t understand.”

Arthur moved forward slowly, giving Merlin plenty of time to move away. He didn’t. A hand rested on his shoulder, another on his chin, tilting his head up gently, and Merlin didn’t resist. Arthur’s eyes were a storm this close, all dark and deep and blue.

He swallowed, and saw Arthur do the same.

“I know I have much to learn. There are some things that I am terrible at – cooking being one of them, and knowing what to say to someone I care about.” He sucked in a breath. “And also apologising when I know I’ve done wrong.”

Merlin’s breath stuttered. “Arthur-“

“Let me finish.”

Merlin hesitated. He’d never heard Arthur sound like that. Like he was begging. He nodded, as much as the fingers on his jaw would allow.

“I’ve had some time to think. About what I heard, and what you said.”

Merlin was tempted to ask about the bout with Sir Leon, but he’d promised to let Arthur finish, and he was almost afraid to interrupt him now, in case this was all a dream.

I’m sorry.” Arthur whispered, and Merlin had to wonder if that was the first time Arthur’s lips had ever formed the words. “I’m sorry you grew up with such fear. I’m sorry you still live with it, every day. I’m sorry it was my farther that forced you to live a life of hiding. And most of all I’m sorry I made you feel too unsafe to tell me.”

Merlin, embarrassingly, felt tears welling up in his eyes. “And I’m sorry I lied to you. I know it hurt you.”

Arthur nodded, accepting the apology easily, and then he released a shaky breath. “Your magic-“

His voice seemed to give out on the word, like he couldn’t force the rest of his sentence past it. Merlin understood. It was difficult, terrifying even, speaking of magic in the heart of Camelot without condemning it.

“My magic?” Merlin prompted, because he needed to hear what Arthur was going to say.

Arthur licked his lips nervously and moved away. Merlin’s chin tingled where his fingers used to be.

“I know you’re not evil. I know if it’s yours then the magic isn’t bad.” Arthur forced out, and now it was his turn to avoid eye contact. “but…”

“It still makes you uncomfortable.” Merlin said, understanding.

Arthur went to protest, but Merlin knew him too well, and Arthur knew it. His face twisted into a slight grimace instead, and rather than admit it he turned to their cooling dinner.

“Come on, let’s eat.”

Merlin smiled hesitantly and joined Arthur at the table. “Does this apology meal include you washing the dishes too?”

“Shut up Merlin.”

Merlin laughed, but after they had finished eating Arthur took his plate, and when they went to sleep that night Arthur slept on the floor, no matter how much Merlin protested.

They woke the next day and silently got ready, Merlin helping Arthur into his clothes as he always did. It felt unreal, that Arthur knew and still trusted him to do this. That he still saw Merlin as Merlin, despite the lies and his father’s hatred of all things magic influencing him his whole life.

“One more match.” Arthur murmured, breaking the silence. “Then the tournament will be over.”

Merlin fixed his cloak around him and stood back. “Then you can go back to being Prince Arthur. To being waited on hand and foot, the giant comfy bed, with the ability to order around innocent servants and knock around your thick-headed knights.”

Arthur frowned in mock offense. “My knights aren’t thick-headed. Some servants are just too much of an idiot to understand the mind of a knight.”

Merlin pressed a hand to his heart dramatically, and then they were both laughing and smiling softly at each other, and Merlin’s heart missed a beat at the look in Arthur’s eyes. He reached up for his neckerchief and gently tugged it free from his neck, ducking his head shyly as he offered it to Arthur.

“For luck.” He said by way of explanation, and hoped that would be enough.

Arthur rolled the fabric between two of his fingers. “Is it… you know?”

Merlin looked up. “Charmed? No, it’s just an ordinary favour.”

Arthur took it, a slight grin on his lips. “An ordinary favour? Do you know what favours are, Merlin?”

Merlin’s breath caught. “Yes.”

Arthur stared at him, unblinking, before he slowly wound the cloth around his arm. He stared at the red bit of cloth for a moment, breathing shallowly, before turning back to Merlin.

“Thank you.”

Merlin grinned, was going to say no problem prat, now try not to die out there, when suddenly Arthur’s lips were on his and he couldn’t think, let alone speak. He simply allowed himself to be kissed, and when Arthur tried to pull away he tugged him back, throwing his fear and inexperience to the wind and kissing his prince with everything he had.

Finally Arthur managed to pull himself away, and Merlin let him go, no matter how he wished he didn’t have to.

“I must go.” Arthur whispered, and Merlin nodded, because he knew he did, and then he was gone, leaving Merlin alone in his room.

He raised a hand to his lips. They tingled, and Merlin couldn’t wait until this stupid tournament was over so he could kiss Arthur again, preferably in the prat’s rooms, where they could lock the door and not be disturbed for hours.

When Arthur inevitably won the tournament – with only a little help from Merlin and his magic, considering his knightly opponent had mysteriously been replaced with a deadly assassin – Merlin was the first one to congratulate him. It was also the first time he told Arthur he had saved his life, and exactly how, and they first time Arthur had reacted to the mention of magic without a flicker of hate or fear.

It was also the first time Arthur allowed Merlin to use magic on him, the deep cut in his side fading to a thin scar, near invisible unless you knew what you were looking for. Arthur had been uncomfortable, but he hadn’t told Merlin to stop, and after he was healed he had ordered Sir William of Daira to go collect his trophy.

Merlin had kissed him senseless for that.

It was later, late at night in Arthur’s chambers, when Arthur addressed what they had both been avoiding thinking about. Merlin had an arm around Arthur’s shoulders, Arthur’s head on his chest, and Arthur’s fingers tracing patterns onto his side.

“What we have between us, my father would never understand. Least of all if he were to discover your magic.”

Merlin shushed him. “I know. You don’t have to explain it to me.”

“We’ll have to be careful.” Arthur continued, as if he hadn’t heard him.

Merlin snorted. “I know how to be careful Arthur.”

Arthur sighed. “I know you do.”

Merlin pulled him closer, and golden hair tickled his nose. “Things will be different when you’re king.”

He felt Arthur smile. “They will. I swear it.”

It was dangerous, but Merlin was used to danger. Living in Camelot was dangerous, but it was worth it. Similarly, loving Arthur was dangerous, but Merlin knew it was worth it, had the moment he’d saw what a noble man the prince was inside. So Merlin let himself fall asleep, Arthur curled up in his arms much in the same way he had curled up in his heart, and dreamt of the golden future they would bring.

It was their destiny, after all.

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#caketalks #merlin #bbc merlin #merthur #my writing #cakeswriting #thank you for this!#it was very fun

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fanficsaremylifeline · 5 years ago

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Life wasn’t fair. Not that this was really news to Merlin; the universe had managed to screw him over at every turn imaginable.

First, something decides to give him magical powers. That should be considered a blessing, but no. What did it get him? Persecution, saving some clotpole-prat from everybody it seems and, if he wasn’t saving the prince’s backside, he got to scrub his boots, mend his knickers and muck out the stables.

And now Merlin was just supposed to continue working for that royal arse after he killed her? Granted, Arthur didn’t know about Merlin’s feelings. Then again, it’s not like he really knew anything about his manservant…

But Merlin didn’t care about that pompous prick right now. Merlin was above all heart-broken.

He had been ready to drop everything, leave Camelot behind for a simple life, a nice cottage by the lake, with mountains, a couple of cows and oh so many strawberries; just him and Freyja, living in peace. But that was just too much to ask, wasn’t it?

A knock on the door ripped Merlin out of his thoughts. Gaius poked his head through the door, shooting the young warlock some very pitiful looks.

“Gaius.”

“Merlin. How are you feeling?”

“I feel freaking fantastic”, Merlin deadpanned and sat up in his bed. “Let me guess, his royal highness needs help tying his shoes.” As aware as he was about how bitter he sounded, Merlin cared even less.

“I have informed Prince Arthur that you unfortunately have come down with a very nasty and infectious inflamation of the throat and will have to be kept isolated for three days.”

“Oh… Thank you. Why?”

“Well…” Gaius closed the door behind him and sat himself next to Merlin on the bed. “You might not have told me everything, but I do recognize a broken heart when I see one.”

“Is it that obvious?”

“To someone who knows you… I’m so sorry, I can only imagine what she meant to you.” He gently patted Merlin’s am and it took a lot for him to stop the tears from rolling down his cheek. “And you deserve to grief her.”

“Thank you, Gaius.”

“Just know I’m right there, if you need me.” With a warm smile, Gaius got up and left Merlin by himself again. Huh, with a guardian like Gaius, maybe the universe wasn’t all that cruel after all.

Day three of Merlin’s ‘quarantine’. He had snuck out early that morning, intend not to be caught by Gaius or any guard that would spare him more than just a fleeting glance.

And now he sat by the lakeside.

“Freyja, it’s me, Merlin. I miss you, I really do. A lot actually. Gaius was so kind to cover for me with Arthur so I could take some time off and so I came here. Felt like the natural choice, there’s mountains, the lake, I even brought strawberries!” He got a little wicker basket out of his satchel. “They’re delicious.”

“Listen, I’ve been thinking. It’s pretty much the only thing I did the last few days. What pains me the most is how that stupid destiny took our future away. And… I don’t want to lose what we could have had.”

“My mother told me about this ritual that developed over the years of persecution. There was no room, no possibility for proper hand-fasting. Those couples didn’t have any druids or priestesses around, there was no walking through fire, they were just not supposed to be united. All this ritual takes is a bracelet, just like this one.” Merlin got the metal band out of his satchel. “I know it’s nothing fancy. But we don’t need that. The way this ritual works is that once infused with magic, the band would be broken in two.” Merlin let his magic work. The bracelet shimmered golden, like his eyes, and broke into two pieces, leaving a jagged edge. “You see, this is like a jigsaw, only those two pieces will ever make a perfectly whole band again.”

Merlin stared down at his hands, one part of the cuff in each. He let the time pass him by, as he listened to the soft waves crashing against the rock he was sitting on and watched the sunlight bouncing off the bronze metal.

“I know this is silly, but… I don’t know, it feels like an opportunity to safe the bit of future we deserved. So…” With a deep breath and a wide smile, he put one half over his wrist. “Perfect fit”, he grinned.

He held the other half up, letting it float through the air, towards the middle of the lake. “In life as in death be forever one”, Merlin whispered as the first tears rolled down his cheek.

“In life as in death, be forever one”, he repeated a little louder. The band was by now hovering out on the lake, seemingly circling its destination.

“In life as in death”, Merlin repeated for the third and last time, “be forever one.” With that, the brass cuff dropped into the water.

Merlin didn’t stay much longer. After he had collected himself again and wiped the last tears off his face, he made his way back to Camelot.

If the lake suddenly started glowing in all the hues of gold, it didn’t last long enough for anybody who wasn’t intently staring at it to notice. Merlin had long since turned away though, halfway back in Camelot already. And even if he were still sitting by the lake, chances are he would not have noticed, for his current main concern was: How the hell was he supposed to explain to Gaius that he just married his dead girlfriend?

Naturally, Gaius had realized that Merlin had snuck out in the morning; as Merlin tiptoed back into the physician’s chambers, he was already awaited by his guardian. “Well, Merlin, it seems the quarantine is working out”, he remarked, barely looking up from the book of herbs he was currently invested in.

“I do actually feel a little better.” Merlin sat himself down opposite Gaius and shot him a contrite smile. “I am sorry for sneaking out.”

“I understand. Just leave me a note next time, will you?”

“Of course.”

“Good. By the way, both Gwen and Morgana have asked about your well-being. So has the prince, though unlike the girls he did not wish you the best.”

“Of course he didn't”, Merlin scoffed with a shake of his head. “Luckily I’ll be back to helping that prat getting dressed tomorrow. Wallowing in self-pity is not going to do me any good and it would probably be best if I keep myself busy.”

“Wise choice”, the man nodded and locked eyes with Merlin. “Are you going to tell me where you went?”

“I was just out”, Merlin shrugged in answer, “had to just… you know?”

“If by 'you know’ you mean getting married…”, Gaius remarked and nodded at the brass bracelet on Merlin’s wrist.

Of course, Gaius would notice right away… “Are you mad because you weren’t invited?” Maybe this conversation would go by easier or faster, if Merlin could joke his way through it.

Gaius gave a soft chuckle. “I am not, since not even the bride was invited…”

“It’s not like that”, Merlin defended his action. “It’s… It’s a long story. In short, this:”, he held the cuff out to Gaius, “is a memory of a future that died with Freyja.”

“It might not be what you want to hear right now, but one day you will love someone like that again.”

“That’s not what I mean.” He took a deep breath, trying to collect his thoughts. “I will never be able to have this. Destiny’ll always make sure of that. We tried, we did, but in the end Arthur and that damn destiny will always get in the way of that.” Merlin sank back in the chair and wiped a tear that made its way down his cheek off his face. “This handfasting ritual was for people that couldn’t be together, that weren’t supposed to be together.” Merlin traced the jagged edge of the band and a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “At least this way I can be connected to her and at least keep the vision of what could have been alive.”

“That sounds like a wonderful way to honour Freyja and your relationship.”

Merlin looked up and met Gaius’ gaze. The older man smiled widely, but his eyes were so much sadder for it.

“Yeah…”

“Well, I suggest you go off to bed now. As of tomorrow you will be no longer contagious and required to go back to work.”

Work. Right. As in slaving around for the guy that killed his wife. No, Merlin was not in the mood for a debate about right and wrong, so he better keep that thought to himself. “You’re right”, he agreed instead. “If I know that clotpole, he’ll have me work thrice as hard to make up for missing work…. Good night, Gaius.”

Just before he closed the bedroom door behind him, Merlin put his head through one last time. “And Gaius?”

The physician had already given his attention back to the book in front of him, with the sound of Merlin’s voice he looked up once more. “Yes, Merlin?”

“Thank you.” With a small smile, Merlin closed the door and disappeared in his room.

And, for the first time in days, Merlin even managed to sleep soundly.

***

Arthur was the worst. Was it too much to ask for a friendly: “Good morning, are you feeling better?” Instead, Merlin got a “you’re late. Hurry, my coat needs cleaning before this afternoon’s knighting ceremony.”

“Hello Arthur, it is nice to see you, too.” With an eyeroll, Merlin grabbed the coat and thusly started an excruciatingly long day of slaving around for Prince clotpole. What was nice though, was every time he ran into Gwen or Morgana, both of whom were concerned about his health and were very happy to see him up and running.

As he trotted back to his chamber at the end of the day, he could just fall asleep standing. If Gaius hadn’t kept talking on him during dinner, Merlin would probably have keeled over snoring. And with his luck, he’d probably have landed in the bowl of soup in front of him.

“You have been on a break for three days. How are you already out of practice?”, Gaius wondered.

“Because the prince is a sadistic… prat.” Merlin would have said worse, but he was currently too tired to think of fitting insults.

“It’s hard to argue with destiny…”

“No”, Merlin shot back, “we can discuss this in the morning when my brain doesn’t have the structural integrity of Prince Arthur’s ego.”

He waved lazily at Gaius as he headed into his room and leaned against the closed door inside.

“Finally, you are home! I’ve been waiting all day long!”

Merlin had to be dreaming. It was the only explanation as to why he saw Freyja sitting on his bed.

“That’s not fair.” Merlin just shook his head. “It’s just not fair.”

“What isn’t?”

“That I keep on seeing you everywhere!” He tried not to cry out in frustration; he didn’t exactly want Gaius to have a front-row seat to his hallucinations. All day long, wherever he was, whatever he did, Freyja was always right there and it drove Merlin mad with sadness.

“So let me get this straight. You don’t want me around?”

“I want Freyja around!” He looked up at the figure on his bed, “But it’s not like you are her…”

“Oh really?”, she grinned, “then why did you marry me?” She held up her arm and traced the cuff on her wrist.

“Since you’re only a figment of my imagination, you damn well know.” Merlin was done with this. The sooner he’d fall asleep, the sooner she’d disappear. So he just dropped on the mattress, as far from her as he could and buried himself into his pillow. ��Just let me sleep.”

***

When Merlin woke up the next morning, Freyja was still there, sitting beside his bed. “Good morning!”, she greeted him with a smile. “Did you sleep well?”

“Oh, you got to be kidding me”, Merlin groaned as he glanced through half-open eyes. “What are you still doing here?”

“Putting you out of your misery.”

“Fine”, he shrugged. “Just give me a quick death.”

“Merlin. I’m really here. You’re not imagining me.” She slipped the bracelet off her wrist. “In life as in death. Forever one.”

“Wait…” Suddenly wide awake, Merlin sat up, very aware that his mouth was gaping wide open. He pulled the cuff off his own wrist and put the two together. Perfect fit. Undoubtedly the cuff he threw in the lake.

“Freyja?”

“Hi Merlin”, she smiled. “You can’t touch me”, she explained as he made a motion to move. “I’m still dead, I’m just my ghost.”

“Oh.” Merlin leaned back, not quite sure what to make of this very situation.

“Yeah…” She put the cuff back on her wrist. “You’re also the only one that can see me.”

Merlin was admittedly lost for words.

“Yeah, it’s a lot to take in, I get that”, she admitted. “I can leave, if it’s too much.”

“No, no, no, don’t go”, Merlin was quick to answer. “I… I just need a moment. So, the ritual…”

“It bound us together, our souls that is.” Freyja scooted closer; if she was more than a spirit, their feet would be touching. “It’s a beautiful thing that you did. And not just because it brought me back; sort of at least.”

“If I had known that would happen, I’d have done it sooner.” He felt a little flush creeping over his cheeks.

“Before or after we’d have run off together?”

Merlin could just snickered back at that. “I believe it would have been the perfect way to christen our new lakeside home.”

“That does sound pretty perfect.”

“Right? If it weren’t for that stupid Emrys-Albion destiny…”

“Hey”, she interrupted him with the softest smile. “Destiny is not what our relationship is about.” Gently, she put her hand over his and Merlin could have sworn he felt her touch. “Our relationship is about the mountains, living by a lake, a few fields with a couple of cows and gorging ourselves with strawberries.” At that, she started to giggle and it was the most beautiful sound Merlin had ever heard; he couldn’t help but smile along.

“I mean, that’s what this represents, right?” Freyja first traced her bracelet, before tracing Merlin’s. “A symbol for this little world that’s only for us; where you’re not some burdened warlock and I’m not a cursed killing machine…”

“Where we can be just Freyja and Merlin”, he finished the train of thought.

“We can still have that. Right now, it’s just us. And sure, Gaius will probably soon come stomping through that door, asking if you plan on sleeping all day long, but I’m not going anywhere. If we can’t leave Camelot, fine. We’ll just create our own lakehouse moments. Even if it will include so much less strawberries than I hoped for”, she added with a skew grin.

“I love you.” It was all, Merlin managed to beam at Freyja who blushed a little and beamed right back. “I love you, too.”

“Alright.” Eventually, Merlin managed to break away from staring into the beautiful blue eyes. “I think I should get going, before Arthur and Gaius drag me out.”

“Good call. Do you mind me tagging along?”

“Not at all”, Merlin grinned, “I’d love that!”

“Great! Let’s get some work done, then.”

***

“You seem awfully chipper today”, Arthur remarked after a while.

Merlin looked up from the boot he was scrubbing, to see the prince paying him more attention than the maps he was brooding over. “I have no idea what you mean”, he shrugged, trying to look nonchalant and ignoring Freyja, sitting on the desk and pulling funny faces at the prince.

“Of course you don't”, Arthur grumbled, looking back on his maps.

“Aw”, Freyja cooed, “he’s adorable when he’s grumpy.” She jumped off the table and glanced over the prince’s shoulders. “But I really don’t get why he’s so obsessed; he is aware that no matter how hard he stares, the maps won’t change?”

Merlin had to bite down hard to keep from snorting out a laugh and pulled all his focus on the boots in front of him.

It was quiet for a little while, a silence that Arthur broke with a loud yell.

“WHAT?” Merlin jumped up, looking around the room for whatever was trying to kill him – this time finding a giggling Freyja and a very startled Arthur.

“What did you do?”, Merlin asked her.

“What do you mean, what I did?”, Arthur answered instead. “What did you do?”

Fine, then he’ll deal with the Prince first. “I was sitting here, scrubbing your boots, so let me paraphrase: what has you frightened?”

“That’d be me!”

“I’m not frightened!”, they answered in unison.

“Of course you’re no. Does that mean I can get back to my chores now?” Merlin didn’t wait for an answer, he just dropped back on the ground.

Over the course of the next fifteen minutes, Merlin tried to ignore Arthur jerking, jumping and getting more and more worked up. Well, if the Prince wasn’t going to admit he was freaking out, Merlin wouldn’t interfere. Besides, he knew Arthur wasn’t in danger, that it was just Freyja. His curiosity did rise though, as to what she did to have him freak out.

“Right.” Arthur got up, looking very startled, but tried to play over it. “I’m gonna… yeah.” He barely looked at Merlin as he made for the door. “Just finish… Alright then.” With that, the heavy wooden door closed behind Arthur.

Merlin waited until the Prince’s steps went silent, before he allowed his grin to break through. “Alright, what did you do?”

“Nothing bad”, Freyja grinned back. “I just improved the maps a little bit.” As if by a gush of wind, the papers floated off the table and landed right in front of Merlin. It was a map of Camelot; not the way Merlin remembered it, though. The whole thing was ornamented with tendrils, flowers and even a drawing of a rabbit. “I mean, you’re really good at drawing”, he chuckled. “You don’t have to share a piece of paper with Arthur, though.”

“But it is so much more fun!”, she laughed, “especially when he has no idea what is going on.”

“Can’t argue with that logic. I might just check on Prince Scaredy-Cat, knowing him he’s gonna take it out on me.” With a roll of his eyes, Merlin scrambled to his feet.

“Can I come, too?” Something mischievous glinted in Freyja’s eyes and Merlin wasn’t sure he was going to like where this was going.

“Will you be making my life harder by screwing with the crown prince?”

“Merlin, he killed me. I think I deserve to.”

“I get your point”, Merlin admitted. “And what kind of husband would I be if I didn’t support your quest for vengeance?” With a grin, he held his arm out to her.

“You do realize I can’t actually link my arm with yours.”

He did, now. It was weird, how easy it was to forget that Freyja was in fact dead and that he could not touch her. He dropped his arm again, catching his face from falling a little too late.

“Nah, don’t be sad”, she tried cheering him up. “At least this way nobody can take me away from you.” Freyja offered him a warm smile, it didn’t reach her eyes, though.

“Sorry.” He sat next to her on Arthur’s bed; if she were corporal form, they’d be touching. “I’m the one being melancholic, while you’re actually dead. That’s not fair to you.”

“None of this is fair to either of us. But it’s the best we can do in a bad situation.”

“You’re really smart.”

“Well”, she laughed, “I feel like some quip along the lines of 'death grants you perspective’ would be appropriately macabre…”

“Yeah… Come on, let’s look for the royal clotpole.”

***

Merlin seldomly had to practice restraint as he did this afternoon. To work off any anxiety Arthur might have experienced (not that he’d outright admit to it, but Merlin knew him well enough to recognize the small bit of fear Arthur tried to hide) the prince went to practise with a maze. And the target was obviously Merlin.

“First he kills me, then he beats up my husband?” Freyja was not amused to say the least. And so she let him have it. She started small, moving a branch or a rock just in time, so Arthur would trip over it. After the third time it was getting almost impossible to feign sincere worry about the Prince’s well-being. It would also be easier to deal with, if Freyja didn’t do a little victory dance every time she managed to drop Arthur on his behind.

The prince on the other hand got more and more frustrated, flustered and embarrassed, which in turn found its outlet in the intensity of his jabs and hits.

“Come on, Merlin!”, he moaned after the warlock shied away from a blow that would have definitely bruised his arm. “What are you, chicken?”

“Oh, I’ll show you who’s chicken!”, Freyja yelled, jumped off the fence she had been sitting on. She winked at Merlin and instantaneously he felt a gush of wind that sent shivers down his spine.

“What was that?” Yes, Merlin had to admit the if he couldn’t see Freyja, he’d be freaked, too. But it was just so hilarious!

“I have no idea what you mean”, Merlin shrugged, trying his all to sound innocent.

Before Arthur got the chance to – probably – be mean, all hell broke loose. It was announced by the cry of the rooster and before either of them knew what was going on, an entire cluster of chickens circled Arthur, gawking excitedly; the little chicks were even brave (or dumb) enough to peck at Arthur’s boots.

And the Prince lost it. “MERLIN! Get these things off me!” He tried batting and kicking at the poultry, but Freyja herded them well enough so they didn’t leave his side.

“MERLIN!”

“Yes, sire.” Merlin could almost taste blood, he bit that hard on his tongue to keep from snorting with laughter. What did Arthur think Merlin could do against a wild group of chicken? So he shot Freyja a pleading look and after a dramatic eyeroll, she agreed. “Fine. I’ll get him back some way that doesn’t get you in trouble. Pretty amazing wife”, she added with a grin and barely a moment later, the chicken trotted off in single file, except for the chicks which ran behind their mothers in a very uncoordinated zigzag.

“You’re the best”, Merlin smiled at Freyja. Fortunately, the Prince was too busy staring after the poultry with a wide gaping mouth to realize Merlin was talking to his dead wife.

After the chicken-stint, Freyja did decide to leave the prat alone for the rest of the day. This didn’t mean that she kept from giving snarky commentary.

When Merlin went to bed that night, he fell asleep with the wides smile on his face.

***

“Merlin?” Gaius’ voice startled him enough that he almost tossed his bowl of soup over the table, which Freyja found hilarious. She laughed so hard, Merlin was sure that Gaius had to hear her.

“Gaius, sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.” I was so focused on my wife…

“I can see that.” The older man walked over and sat down opposite Merlin, right in his view of Freyja.

“Prince Arthur just came to me, to talk.”, Gaius mentioned as he broke off a piece of bread. “He asked me about the signs and reasons for being haunted.”

“Oh.”Merlin wasn’t sure how to react, what he did know was that he blushed at about the intensity of an overripe tomato.

“You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

“Yes, he does”, Freyja threw in.

“Why would you think that?”

“Because whenever something supernatural happens you are usually right in the middle of it”, Gaius observed.

“I didn’t curse him, if that’s what you’re insinuating.”

“No, you just raised your dead wife’s ghost.”

“If you didn’t curse him, then what did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything!”

“Yes, you did.”

Woah, navigating this conversation between Gaius and Freyja was getting a little difficult. “I didn’t coax his horse into trotting in circles”, he shot back, at which Freyja started giggling again. “That was really fun”, she laughed.

“Merlin, please tell me what is going after Arthur.”

“No”, he muttered his quiet response. “I will not. But I promise that he’ll be left alone from now on.” Merlin looked up at his mentor with big, pleading eyes. “I’ll make it stop.”

“Ok”, he nodded, “I trust you, boy, you know that.”

“Thanks”, Merlin smiled up at him. “that really means everything to me. And don’t worry”; he quickly added. “Arthur never was in danger.”

“I know. Otherwise you would have stopped it all the moment it first began. But with the king even playful pranking can turn very dangerous very quickly.”

“I know.”

“Good. Then off to bed you go. With the fear of being haunted, Arthur might be extra…”

“Difficult? Annoying? Pratty?”, Merlin suggested.

“Demanding”, Gaius corrected Merlin’s assumptions, but there was a hint of a grin on Gaius’ face.

“Same difference”, Merlin shrugged. “Good night, Gaius. And thanks for trusting me.”

Gaius shot him a warm smile. “Sleep well, Merlin.”

“I’m sorry”, Freyja apologized as Merlin closed the door to his bedroom.

“What for?”

“That my childish revenge is getting you into trouble with Gaius.” She looked up at him. “I’m really sorry.”

“There’s nothing you need to apologize for”, he assured her as he sat next to her on his bed. “You have all the right in the world to be angry with him and what you did the last few days was really hilarious.”

“It won’t be that funny when Uther has your head for it…”

“Then we’ll both haunt Arthur’s behind together”, he grinned.

“That would be even more fun”, she giggled. “But yes, I think I’ll leave the Prince alone from now on. Besides, I still have a lot of castle to explore and discover. You would see a lot less of me, though.”

“Although that is obviously not good, it would allow me to do my job.”

“I’m still not sure that I want you having to deal with Arthur by yourself…”

“I can handle him”, Merlin assured her, “and besides, he’s a lot easier to deal with when he’s not being chased by a love-sick goat…”

“That was a good one”, Freyja giggled proudly, “But yeah, I’ll leave the prat be.”

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate that”, Merlin yawned and made himself comfortable in his bed.

Freyja put her hand on Merlin’s head and he could swear he felt her tousling his hair. “It’s definitely not him I’m doing any favours. Now, go to sleep and have nice dreams.”

#bbc merlin #merlin #gaius #freyja #arthur #gwen #morgana #merlin/freyja

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miraculousmultifan · 4 years ago

Text

it’s a lovely morning in the castle, and you are a horrible magic goose

Author: miraculousmultifan

Fandom: Merlin

Pairing: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon

Rating: T

Word Count: 11789

Summary: So there they were... Arthur cradling Merlin, a goose, while he trudged up the stairs to his chambers. Merlin gave an exasperated honk. How did he manage to continue getting into situations like these?

***

Inspired by this post on tumblr: “Concept: fairy tale where the wicked step-parent (who is of course also some sort of warlock) transforms the princess into a swan, as one does, but rather than running off to mope around in a lake and be beautifully tragic, the princess decides to stick around the palace and cause problems on purpose.”

Link: AO3

Merlin should’ve figured this sort of thing would happen. It had been a lovely morning. He had woken up early, grabbed Arthur’s still-warm breakfast, and marched up the stairs to wake up his prince. Arthur had even pretended not to notice Merlin stealing a sausage or two from his plate. So the day had been going great, which obviously meant that something had to go wrong.

He had rushed Arthur to the meeting with the king, his ward, and the council as quickly as possible, but before it could really begin, the doors to the throne room had swung open to reveal an old lady dressed in delicate robes holding a staff with a glowing orb at the top.

“Uther Pendragon, your crimes against magic will not be forgiven. You have punished innocents because of the hatred and bitterness that crowds your heart. You deserve to face the consequences of the decades of pain that you have caused my people. Arthur will be lost to you unless you can learn to accept magic and show your people love and compassion.” The sorceress had lifted her staff pointing the orb directly at Arthur, screaming the incantation.

“Arthur!”

Merlin had immediately pushed Arthur out of the way and felt the spell begin to take effect. He started to shrink while his bones shifted and ached. Across the room, the guards restrained the growling sorceress that was lunging towards Merlin. Arthur had quickly pushed himself up from the ground only to see a goose in Merlin’s place. He ran forward and scooped the goose into his arms. The goose had trembled before letting out a nervous honk and ducking his head into Arthur’s chest.

“Take this fool out of my sight. She will be burned on the pyre tomorrow morning. Arthur, you are dismissed. Take that goose out to the woods.” Uther had waved his hand, unimpressed with the swift turn of events that had just unfolded before his eyes.

“Father, forgive me, but this isn’t just some goose. This is Merlin. That witch turned my manservant into a goose. I’m not just going to leave him out in the forest to die!” Arthur had said, snuggling Goose-Merlin even closer to his chest.

“Fine,” Uther had scoffed, “I don’t care what you do with it. Just get it out of here.”

So there they were... Arthur cradling Merlin, a goose, while he trudged up the stairs to his chambers. Merlin gave an exasperated honk. How did he manage to continue getting into situations like these?

“I can’t believe I have to get a new manservant now. I don’t think I’ll be able to deal with George’s brass-polishing jokes for longer than a couple of days.” Arthur pushed open the door and walked over to his bed to set Merlin down onto his fluffy pillow. Merlin honked again, eyes bright, as he bumped his head against Arthur’s arm. Arthur took a seat on the bed next to Merlin and gave his head an affectionate pat.

“Of course, you would probably prefer being in a lake or pond now, huh? That will certainly be unpleasant for me because I’m not sure I’m ready to let you go yet. I guess I’m just holding out hope that you’re still in there. Somewhere…” Arthur said dejectedly, stroking Merlin’s head. Merlin’s tiny eyes widened as he comprehended Arthur’s words.

Merlin jumped from the pillow and flapped around until he was standing on Arthur’s lap. He stared into Arthur’s eyes, trying as hard as he could to convey to Arthur that he was right there, fully cognizant. He gave a confident and meaningful honk that he hoped Arthur could realize meant, “Of course I’m still here. I would never leave you. Don’t send me to some stupid lake, you prat!”

Arthur stared back, his eyes gradually widening until, “Merlin?! You’re truly in there? Well… I suppose I should stop petting you, then.” Merlin gave an indignant honk and nipped at the hand that Arthur was attempting to pull away. They really had to figure out a better way of communicating.

“Okay, okay, fine. I’ll keep petting you, you ungrateful idiot, but we are getting you to Gaius first thing in the morning. There has to be a better way for us to communicate…” Arthur trailed off, staring at the wall in thought. Merlin gazed up at him fondly for a second before tucking his head under his wings and cuddling into Arthur’s chest, relaxing beneath his soft touches.

Arthur eventually got up to get dressed for bed before slipping under his blankets to sleep. Merlin stood up from his spot on Arthur’s spare pillow to tuck himself against Arthur’s chest and let out a soft snuffle. Arthur smiled to himself, closing his eyes and resting a hand on Merlin’s back, ruffling his feathers the slightest bit.

***

The next morning, after dressing himself again, Arthur scooped a sleeping Merlin into his arms and headed straight to Gaius’s chambers.

“Gaius!” Arthur slammed the door to the physician’s chambers open.

Gaius huffed at his work table before turning to fix Arthur with an obviously fake smile. “Sire. How lovely to see you. Is there a reason for your unannounced visit and brutish forcefulness with my door?”

The tips of Arthur’s ears turned pink as he looked back to the door before he shook it off. The prince pressed on, pacing back and forth in front of Gaius, still clutching Merlin close to his chest. “This is an emergency! My father wants me to send him away, but if there’s any way to turn him back to my- er, back to Merlin, I can’t just leave him! He means a lot to me, although my father may resent it, so I could never abandon him in some lake,” Arthur spoke, gradually getting louder as he got more riled up.

“Sire… I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about. Also, is that a goose you’re cradling?”

“I am not cradling him! I am simply holding him,” Arthur protested, louder than was really necessary. After hearing a grumpy snuffle from Merlin, he stopped, giving the soft, black feathers on his head a ruffle. “And be quiet, Gaius. You’re going to wake him up.”

“Of course, sire. I will lower my voice, my apologies. We wouldn’t want the goose you have adopted out of nowhere to be grumpy.”

“What do you mean the goose I adopted? This is Merlin.” Arthur rolled his eyes as if Gaius was being intentionally dense.

“Of course. Now, what was it you are really in here for, my lord?”

“Well, we can’t really communicate all that well, what with Merlin being a goose and all, so I was wondering if you had a potion or something that could help? Like a mind link or something?”

“You want me to help you create a mental link between yourself and… a goose?” Gaius was starting to become very exhausted listening to Arthur prattle on about this goose.

“For the last time, Gaius! This isn’t just some goose! It’s Merlin!” Arthur shouted, throwing up his free hand in exasperation. Merlin let out a bleary honk, lifting his head from Arthur’s shoulder. “Ah, Merlin! You’re finally awake. Do you mind explaining to Gaius what happened?”

Merlin flapped his wings for Arthur to let him down before waddling over to Gaius and honking at him.

“Yes… You seem to have trained your goose very well, sire.” Merlin rolled his eyes and honked obnoxiously before biting Gaius on his ankle. Gaius yelped and jumped up with surprising aerobatics considering his age.

Arthur covered his mouth, attempting to hide his snicker, before quickly turning it into a cough when Gaius gave him The Eyebrow. Gaius turned back around to Merlin and squinted.

“If you really are Merlin, which I’m not convinced you are, prove it to me. Do something only Merlin would do.” Gaius crossed his arms and sat back down at his work table, watching Merlin carefully. Merlin huffed and stared pointedly at him before letting his eyes turn to gold as he made burning heat crash over Gaius.

“Okay, okay! I believe you.”

“The eyes are what really gives him away, don’t you think?” Arthur remarked cluelessly before walking forward to scoop Merlin back into his arms. “Well, now that you’re convinced, do you mind making it so I can converse with my manservant again?” Merlin took the opportunity to nuzzle his face back into Arthur’s neck and go back to sleep.

“Forgive me, sire, but I don’t think I can make a temporary mind link between you and Merlin at this moment. I will have to look through my library to find anything I can. Perhaps you can take Merlin with you somewhere else until I can find a suitable solution.”

Arthur sighed, stroking Merlin’s neck absentmindedly. “Of course, Gaius. Thank you for helping us. I will leave you to your research.” Arthur moved to leave before stopping in the doorway. He turned back to Gaius slowly one last time. “Before I go… I can’t stop thinking about what that sorceress said to my father. ‘Arthur will be lost to you unless you can learn to accept magic and show your people love and compassion.’ Do you think that could be the key to changing him back? Getting my father to accept magic?”

Gaius looked thoughtfully at Arthur for a moment, taking in Arthur’s hesitant expression and hopeful eyes. “It is possible, sire.”

Arthur nodded sadly and sighed. “I guess Merlin will be a goose forever, then. We’re going to need that mind link.”

***

Arthur walked into his chambers and set Merlin carefully onto his pillow as he prepared for training. Without Merlin to help him, getting into his chainmail and armor was a lot harder than he remembered. Arthur considered calling for George to help him, but one glance to the sleeping goose on his pillow made him rethink that decision. He could afford to be a little late for a training session.

Although, according to Gwaine, apparently he could not.

“Oi, princess! Being late is so un-ladylike. What will all your suitors think? And to bring some random goose with you! For shame!”

“Come now, Gwaine,” Percival spoke up, “The goose is obviously his magical adventuring companion. Every princess has one nowadays.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “I trust that if you don’t want another couple hours added onto training today, you will cool it a little bit.” He carefully lifted Merlin from where he had been resting his neck on Arthur’s shoulder to hold him in front of his chest and scruffed his feathers to wake him up. “Come on, Merlin. You can’t just sleep all day. You still have a job, you know. Becoming a goose does not excuse you from your chores.”

“Aww. We knew you were besotted, Arthur, but I didn’t think you would go as far as to name a goose after him. Does Merlin even know about this goose that you’re trying to replace him with?” Gwaine teased, elbowing Percival’s side with a wink.

Merlin blinked slowly and ruffled his feathers, giving a dazed honk. After looking around to see the training field, Merlin turned his head towards Arthur to glare at him. Arthur smirked. “Would you rather attempt to spar with the knights as a goose, or sit on the sidelines watching in case someone gets hurt?” Merlin honked again and stretched his neck forward to bite Arthur on the nose. “Ow! I’m still the prince you know. You can’t treat me like this.”

“No, no. Arthur’s right,” Lancelot cut in, interrupting Gwaine’s giggles, “That’s definitely Merlin. I heard rumors from Gwen that someone had been turned into a goose last night, and I can tell you without a doubt. That is Merlin.”

Merlin jumped out of Arthur’s hands and waddled over to Lancelot, flapping to be picked up. With a sheepish smile to Arthur, Lancelot picked Merlin up and cradled him to his chest. Merlin turned his head to look at Arthur and honked smugly. Arthur glowered at him before turning to his knights.

“Alright! Training begins. We are continuing mace work today, so grab your weapons. Lancelot, take Merlin to Gwen and explain the situation. I don’t want him being a nuisance while we’re trying to train.” Merlin huffed and tried to bite Arthur again, but Lancelot held him back before making his way into the castle. He would just have to settle for an affronted honk.

Arthur sighed to himself as he turned to grab a mace and shield for himself. He couldn’t help but be at least a little worried about his manservant. Sure, he’s safe with Lancelot, and Gwen will take good care of him, but Arthur knew Merlin always found a way to get himself into trouble, and becoming a goose would only increase the chance of that. Hopefully, Gwen could make him behave.

***

“Okay, so I know Lancelot wouldn’t lie to me and Merlin gets into so much mischief already, but I’m just not convinced. I think you’re just some regular goose.” Gwen looked down at the goose in her arms while she walked to Morgana’s chambers. “I’m not sure how you’d even prove it to me if you were Merlin.”

Merlin huffed and scowled at Gwen, about to give her a piece of his mind, but then he heard one of the visiting nobles discussing the events of the council meeting from the night before.

“Uther’s boy, Arthur, needs to learn his place. What use is having a goose as a manservant? If it were me, I would’ve put that thing out of its misery. Uther should have been harder on him. If my son ever showed that much care to a mere servant, I would execute the boy to make a point. Good rulers should never show compassion towards their lessers.” The grimy old man sneered, puffing out his chest.

The two visiting nobles were pompously criticizing Arthur’s actions, and Merlin knew that if Arthur heard, he would internalize it. It would make him more insecure. What right did they have to challenge the decisions of the crown prince? Merlin wouldn’t stand for it.

Gwen tried to stifle a shriek as Merlin flapped his wings, jumping out of her arms. Loud slapping sounds echoed through the hallway as Merlin’s little goose feet charged forward.

“Lord Marticus, do you hear that slapping sound? How curious…”

Merlin pounced, letting out a deafening battle honk as he planted his feet on the old man’s back and sunk his tiny goose teeth into his balding head. The man cried out and swatted his hands above his head, hoping to land a hit. Lord Marticus fled, screaming, leaving the stout noble behind.

“Where are you going? Lord Marticus, help me with the damned bird!”

“I’m sorry, Lord Geraldimum, but whatever you did to provoke it is your problem. You can deal with it yourself!” Lord Marticus called over his shoulder, still high-tailing it down the corridor.

Gwen stood, shocked, for another moment before grabbing Merlin and pulling him away. That settles it. Merlin has turned into a goose. “I am so sorry, Lord Geraldimum. My goose, uh, Eggbert, broke free from my grasp. This won’t happen again, sire. My deepest apologies,” Gwen said, hanging her head in deference.

“Right, yes… It won’t happen again,” Lord Geraldimum spoke slowly, brushing off his clothes and clutching the back of his head. “I should hope not! Keep your bird in line, young lady.”

Gwen nodded and scurried away with an affronted Merlin clutched tightly underneath her armpit. As soon as they were out of ear-shot, Gwen brought Merlin up to her face. “What were you thinking? If Lord Geraldimum* knew you were Prince Arthur’s manservant, and he complained, Uther would have you executed. You know he doesn’t think twice about these things. At least make trouble when Arthur is around to save you.” Merlin glared at her with his beady eyes. “N-not that you can’t save yourself! I’m sure you can, it’s just… Well, it’s just… Arthur has a lot more power than you. He’s probably the only person who could stop Uther from either executing or banishing you.” Merlin huffed and lowered his head to rest on Gwen’s shoulder.

She carried him up to Morgana’s room to get him away from any other trouble.

***

“Gwen, it is lovely to see you!” Morgana started, looking Gwen up and down before giving her a soft smile. “Where have you been all d-” She stopped when her eyes landed on Merlin, but continued on a moment later, her shock barely noticeable. “This is Merlin, isn’t it? Can I hold him?”

Merlin hopped down from Gwen’s arms and waddled over to Morgana, giving her a content honk.

“Still a sweetheart as a goose? I’m not surprised.” Morgana knelt to pick Merlin up, smiling.

“I don’t know, my lady. You should have seen him with Lord Geraldimum. One passing comment about Arthur was all it took for Merlin to rip him to shreds.” Gwen grinned, shooting Morgana a wink. Merlin honked, turning his head away from Gwen to look at the wall. “Oh, Merlin. Don’t be that way. We all know how much you care about him.”

“Honestly, I think it’s sweet. It’s only fair that we can poke fun at you every now and again. Especially now that you can’t say anything back!” Morgana smirked. Merlin squirmed in Morgana’s arms, trying desperately to wiggle to safety. Gwen giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. Morgana’s eyes widened and she blushed. In her temporary distraction, Merlin achieved freedom.

“Ooh! I have an idea. Merlin, can we make you some accessories? What if we gave you a miniature neckerchief to wear? Arthur told me to keep you out of trouble, so I can hardly go about my chores now. Morgana and I are your babysitters until Arthur arrives…”

Merlin huffed and waddled to the center of Morgana’s room. He plopped down and tucked his head under his wing to take a nap while Morgana and Gwen sat on the floor around him, stitching and chatting.

A couple hours later, Arthur charged into the room.

“Is Merlin in here?” Arthur panted, his hand braced against the doorframe.

“Arthur, did you sprint up here? He is perfectly safe in our company you know.” Morgana smirked, turning back to her stitching.

Arthur ignored her comment, choosing to sit on the floor and pull Merlin onto his lap. Merlin fluffed his feathers slightly and took his head out from under his wings to lean against Arthur’s stomach. “You know, I think we all deserve a rest. Don’t stop your mindless gossip on my account.”

Morgana rolled her eyes playfully and shifted so that she was lying with her head in Gwen’s lap. “We were just discussing what other clothes to give Merlin. Gwen’s making him a tiny neckerchief. Do you have any ideas?”

Arthur looked down at Merlin sleeping soundly against his stomach. “Maybe a sweater or a jacket? Or some little boots? That would be cute…” Merlin snuffled and nuzzled his face into Arthur’s stomach. Arthur let out a very manly squeak, his face burning. When he looked up, Morgana was covering her mouth, her eyes sparkling with mirth while Gwen looked pointedly away, stifling her giggles. “Not a word of this to anyone,” Arthur sighed, defeated.

“How about I change the subject?” Gwen smiled. “Have you ever put on disguises and snuck around?”

Both Morgana and Arthur spoke at the same time. “Of course I have!” “Well, it’s not a very princely act, is it?” Arthur stared at his sister in shock while she just laughed.

“Seriously, Arthur? Never? You must lead a sad life on that high pedestal of yours,” Morgana said, reaching her hand out to pat Arthur’s ankle in mock seriousness.

“I’ll have you know, that I have snuck around! I just never wore a disguise. It’s not as if someone would stop the crown prince.” Arthur huffed and ceased his petting to cross his arms. Merlin snuffled and woke up. “Merlin was with me, of course. I think we were disobeying my father’s wishes…”

Merlin stretched out his wings before nuzzling Arthur’s arm and honking softly. Arthur picked him up and pulled him to his chest, resting his head against his heart.

“There’s a surprise,” Gwen laughed. “I think this time you’ll be better disguised. We wouldn’t want word getting to Uther about anything.”

Arthur narrowed his eyes while Merlin picked his head up to look at Gwen. “What do you mean this time?”

“Well, I’ve finished with Merlin’s neckerchief. We should at least show it off on a little stroll through the town!” Gwen paused for a moment. “Don’t you want to go out without having to always be aware of how you are being perceived?”

Arthur sighed. “When do we leave?”

***

Arthur, Morgana, Gwen, and Merlin moved their gathering into Arthur’s room to help him find a suitable disguise. Morgana and Gwen sat Arthur down on his bed with Merlin in his lap, before they started pulling out random clothes from his wardrobe.

“Hey, what are you doing? You can’t just go throwing my clothes around!” Arthur pouted, his eyebrows furrowed. Merlin honked in protest, flapping out of Arthur’s lap to pick up the clothes that were strewn across the floor and put them on Arthur’s bed.

Morgana ignores them, but Gwen throws a mildly sheepish look over her shoulder. With barely concealed giggles, Morgana spoke. “It’s no use. All of his clothes are too fancy. It’s like he’s never tried to be subtle in his life!”

“I’m right here! I can still hear you!”

Gwen nodded at Morgana with fake disappointment. “I suppose Merlin will just have to share some of his clothes with Arthur. It’s such a shame.”

Arthur felt his ears grow hot and he attempted to splutter out a response, flailing his arms around. “Wha- But Morgana! Gwen, there’s no way I’ll be able to fit! Merlin is much too skinny.” Merlin huffed and bit Arthur’s finger before honking at him. “What? It’s true!”

Morgana rolled her eyes. “I’m sure Merlin has some larger clothes that could fit you. If not, we could always find some way to fix them up.” Merlin jumped out of Arthur’s lap and flapped into Morgana’s arms. “Onwards!”

Morgana led the way, a considerable length in front of Arthur and Gwen. She snuck a quick look back at them for a moment before leaning into to whisper into Merlin’s ear. “When we get in, I’ll try to distract them. Do you think you can magic some of your clothes to fit Arthur?” Merlin gave an affirmative honk. “Great! We have to hurry, though. We don’t want Arthur or Gwen to see.”

By the time they arrived at Merlin’s room, Arthur and Gwen had been left in the dust. “Alright, make it quick. I’ll tell them to wait while you pick out your biggest clothes.”

Merlin nods and hops out of Morgana’s arms. His eyes glow gold while he levitates his most average clothes onto his bed, enlarging them as he went. If he was being honest, the idea of Arthur wearing his clothes made his tiny goose heart flip in his chest. A few moments later, Morgana walked back in with Gwen and Arthur in tow.

“Wow, Morgana, you really walk fast! Arthur and I could barely keep up.” Gwen laughed, moving to sit on the end of Merlin’s bed.

Morgana smiled, “Sorry, it’s in my nature.”

Arthur huffed and pushed past Morgana to pick up the clothes Merlin had laid out for him. “I seriously doubt this. I’m too muscular for his clothes.” Merlin honked loudly and waddled up to Arthur to bite his ankles. “Fine! I’ll put them on. You don’t have to bite me.”

After Arthur changed into the magically-enlarged clothes, he was embarrassed to see that they fit him perfectly. Morgana cackled while Gwen tried to hide a snicker by picking up Merlin and hiding her face in his feathers.

“Too muscular for his clothes, you said? It doesn’t seem that way to me,” Morgana teased, patting a red-faced Arthur on the back before sliding out the door. “To the town!” Gwen gave Arthur a small smile while Merlin honked smugly at him, then they both followed Morgana down the steps. Arthur huffed, muttering to himself while he tried to catch up.

Merlin didn’t think their disguises were all that good. Gwen looked fine, obviously; she was a commoner, so she already fit right into the bustle of the lower town. Morgana was more obvious, her clothes still being a bit too fancy, but it was clear that she had gone into the town disguised many times before. It’s always hard to take away that royal presence that came with being brought up by nobles.

But Arthur… Arthur was not as subtle as he assumed. For starters, he was only wearing Merlin’s clothes. Simply wearing different clothes would not stop the people of Camelot from recognizing their crown prince. It’s not like Merlin could do anything about it now, though, so he decided to just sit back and watch the people politely pretend not to notice the crown prince of Camelot and the King’s ward walking around the town with a commoner and a clothed goose.

Arthur seems to be thoroughly enjoying himself and the fact that he “hasn’t been recognized”. Gwen keeps stifling her giggles every time she looks back to see him smiling so brightly. Merlin nudges Gwen’s face with his head before looking back at Arthur. Gwen nods, and Merlin flaps down to waddle up to Arthur. Without hesitating, Arthur picked Merlin up and held him close to his chest.

“See, Merlin. I told you this would work. The commoners don’t suspect a thing,” Arthur whispered with a big grin on his face. Merlin snorted and pressed his head over Arthur’s heart.

They walked for a while, checking out the stores and looking through the wares of the merchants. Eventually, something had to happen, though; with Merlin and Arthur around, something always did.

A wolf whistle. “Hey there, lass. What’s a pretty thing like you doing out in the streets looking positively indecent?” A man called, slapping Morgana’s butt as he walked past. Morgana jolted and turned to glower at the man who only laughed, elbowing his buddies. Gwen was glaring and Arthur had tensed, but it was Merlin who made the first move.

Seeing red, Merlin jumped from Arthur’s arms and flapped his wings wildly, flying towards the group of men. With screeches and honks, Merlin attacked. It didn’t take long for the man’s laughs to turn to screams. His buddies all ran, leaving the man to whack at Merlin with very little accuracy.

“Sorry! I’m sorry! Leave me alone…” The man wailed. Merlin was ruthless. He was fully content to leave this man with long-lasting bruises that would deter him from making another such comment again.

“That’s enough,” Morgana said calmly. Merlin immediately, albeit regretfully, detached his teeth from the man’s arm and waddled back to Arthur. She turned to the man slowly. “I assume you’ve learned your lesson. Now, leave us be.” With those words, the crowd that had begun to form dissipated, and the man was left whimpering on the pavement.

Arthur scooped Merlin up, and then the group was off on their adventure once again as if nothing had happened. After about 20 minutes of walking through the town, Gwen asked if she could take Merlin to look for herbs for Gaius and Audrey. Morgana agreed, telling Arthur that he would be joining her while she tried on clothes in a nearby shop.

Gwen took Merlin from Arthur’s arms and headed towards the merchant selling herbs while Morgana and Arthur headed in the opposite direction, playfully bickering. Once they were out of sight, Gwen leaned down to whisper to Merlin, “Okay, so I might have lied the tiniest bit. We really should pick up some herbs for Audrey, but I’m sure Gaius has plenty. I actually want you to help me pick out some jewelry for Morgana. I’ve been meaning to her a gift to show her how much I care about her for the longest time , but I’ve been too busy. Do you think you can help me out?” Merlin honks and leans into her. “Great! I mean, I assume that was a yes. I don’t really speak goose.”

“Welcome to my shop! I have a wide variety of jewelry made from various valuable gems and jewels. What catches your eye?” The shopkeeper said, eyeing Gwen as she looked for the perfect gift. The other lady in the shop seemed to double-take at Merlin but otherwise paid them no mind while she browsed.

“I’m just looking at the moment, thank you,” Gwen said politely before looking down at Merlin. “What do you think? Would Morgana like a necklace or earrings more? Or maybe a bracelet?” At the mention of Morgana, the shopkeeper visibly straightened before adopting a shifty look on his face. Merlin huffed at Gwen and looked towards a dark green pendant sitting on the table closest to them. It looked like it was made from a smoothed geode crystal with the chain made from black wire-like string woven together. It was held to the wire by knots surrounding the edges of the crystal.

The lady that had been browsing picked up a necklace very similar to the one Merlin had just nodded towards and walked to the shopkeeper to pay. The shopkeeper smiled at her. “That will be ten silver, miss.” The lady paid happily and left the store, sparing one last glance to Merlin. Geese must attract more attention than he had previously realized.

“Wow, Merlin! This necklace is beautiful. I’m sure the Lady Morgana will love it. Thank you.” Gwen smiled and walked over to the shopkeeper.

“Good afternoon. What can I get for you?” The shopkeeper said. Gwen smiled at him and placed the necklace on the counter.

“Just this please,” She replied, ruffling Merlin’s feathers affectionately.

“That’ll be fifty silver.” The shopkeeper grinned and held out his hand. Gwen’s smile fell.

“Fifty silver? But the other lady bought the same necklace, and she only paid ten!”

“Well, a friend of Morgana’s should have more than fifty silver at least. Being royalty and all…”

Gwen sighed. “It’s fine. Maybe I can make her something instead.” She started to turn away before Merlin hopped out of her arms and snatched the pendant off the table and waddled as fast as he could away. “Merlin! Come back! What are you doing?”

The shopkeeper stood shocked, but by the time he had come back to his senses, Gwen and Merlin were long gone.

***

Deciding that he was done adventuring for the day, Gwen took Merlin to Arthur chambers to wait until Morgana and Arthur returned. “I’ll let you know how it goes. Thank you for helping me with that shopkeeper.” Merlin honked softly.

It didn’t take long for Arthur to return, but as soon as he walked in, he flopped onto his bed face first. Merlin stood up from where he had curled onto Arthur’s pillow to sit on Arthur’s back.

“Ugh! Merlin, it was horrible! Morgana spent forever trying on dresses, and then it turned out she didn’t even plan on buying anything! She was only waiting until she could get a gift for Gwen. Why she needed me there, I will never know.” Merlin honked in surprise. Then, he nipped at Arthur’s back lightly and pushed him with his head. “Alright, alright. I’m moving. You’re so pushy.”

Arthur sat up, roughly pulling off his shirt with a little more difficulty than should be expected before flopping back down onto his bed and pulling the blankets over his shoulders. Merlin settled onto the pillow next to Arthur’s and they both fell fast asleep.

Unfortunately, Arthur managed to wake up before Merlin the next morning, and in that short time had come to the decision that a hunting trip with the knights was the best course of action they could take.

“Up and at ‘em! Come on, don’t make me pluck your feathers… I’ll do it; don’t think I won’t.” Arthur picked up Merlin and threw him up in the air over the bed. Merlin gave an offended honk in protest and chased Arthur around the room, honking and biting at his heels while Arthur laughed loudly and whacked pillows at him.

Eventually, through no fault of his own, Arthur was defeated, falling to the floor and relenting to the onslaught of bites at his ankles. “You have to promise me that we won’t start this again once I tell you the plan for today, okay?” Merlin nodded and moved to settle into Arthur’s lap. “We’re going hunting with the knights.”

Merlin stopped in the middle of making himself comfortable to make his best attempt at a glare. The idea was so revolting that he may have hissed just a little bit. Just a tiny itty bit. It’s just, Uther was all for Merlin being thrown to the woods to inevitably be killed for sport (whether by Arthur or otherwise), and Merlin, ever filled with treason, was not totally on board with the possibility of that happening for real. And also the other very real and very cute animals that they would also probably kill. So hunting was a no go.

“Eh, it’ll be fine. Plus, Gwen made you a little pouch thing so that you can still come on the hunts! She dropped it off this morning. Look, it’s even got little flowers on it. I know how much you like flowers…” Arthur stood up, scooping up Merlin with one arm before picking up the aforementioned pouch and showing it to Merlin.

Merlin huffed, which Arthur took as an affirmation, putting Merlin in the pouch, and then they were off, Arthur already dressed in his usual riding gear. The pouch was slung across Arthur’s chest like a satchel with Merlin positioned just above Arthur’s heart. Prime position for goose cuddles if Merlin was in the mood, and as much as it pained him, he was not.

They rode out into the forest, Gwaine cooing at Merlin while the other knights laughed. Little did they know, Merlin was hatching a plan. If he could stop the knights from killing any innocent animals, then they hunting trip would be a failure, and Merlin would get his revenge. He had assumed (one he had finally gotten used to being a goose) that Arthur wouldn’t be able to take him on hunting trips anymore. He had apparently underestimated how much Arthur loved hunting.

After a couple more minutes of riding, Arthur dismounted by a river and tied his horse to a tree. “This is where we will make camp after we’re done hunting. For now, let’s keep moving. We only have so much daylight, and I’d like to catch something today.”

The knights tried to be as quiet as possible, Arthur leading the way, but every time a deer or rabbit got close, Merlin honked as loud as he could. Every time, the animals fled and the knights missed their shots (whether from Merlin scaring them or the animals running, they never admitted).

Eventually, Arthur got fed up, but he didn’t want to send Merlin back to the camp in case someone else tried to shoot him, so they stopped hunting.

“Nice job, Merlin,” Gwaine said, “Now we can’t eat tonight.” Merlin wriggled in the pouch until Arthur freed him, and he waddled over to the river. The knights simply looked on in bewilderment as Merlin shot his head into the water. One by one, Merlin plucked fish out of the river and set them on the ground next to him.

After collecting enough fish for everyone to eat, Merlin waddled over to the fire that Lancelot had set up and settled down with a fish for himself trapped in his beak.

“Oh… So I guess we can eat… Thanks, Merls!” Gwaine laughed and grabbed a couple fish from the pile. “Now, who wants to help Leon cook us a stew?”

Arthur sat next to Merlin in front of the fire while Leon and Gwaine argued over who would make the stew.

“I guess you still don’t like hunting then, huh?” Merlin turned to give Arthur a look before huffing and turning back to his fish.

“I should’ve figured, but… well, I didn’t want to leave you back at the castle for the whole day. It’s much more fun having you here.” Arthur wasn’t really sure why he was so comfortable telling Merlin these things that he would normally keep locked away, but he figured that since Merlin didn’t look like himself, it was easier to detach the fact that it was Merlin under all those feathers.

Merlin huffed and stood up to move onto Arthur’s lap. It wasn’t often that Arthur would talk about his feelings so openly, so Merlin decided to forgive him. He leaned his head onto Arthur’s chest and continued eating his fish. Arthur ran his fingers through Merlin’s feathers and relaxed, taking in the soft night.

“Look, I’m just saying! After Merlin, you are probably the only one with any real cooking experience,” Gwaine said, poking Leon in the chest.

“Yeah, and you’re the most responsible out of all of us,” Elyan added. “If anyone can make fish stew while also not starting a forest fire, it would be you.”

“It’s alright, Leon. I’ll help you. I’m not against a little cooking, but you might have to do a lot of the work.” Lancelot said, slapping Leon on the back before starting to prep the fish.

“I just want to know why I am the only consideration! I’ll do it, but not because you guys are forcing me. I am doing this of my own accord.” Leon sighed, sitting down next to the pot to start cooking. The rest of the knights cackled, Gwaine elbowing Percival in the side and giving him a wink.

Arthur smiled while watching his knights banter. There really was nothing he liked more than hunting with his most trusted knights. It was at times like these that he really felt like he had friends (despite the fact that princes can’t actually have friends).

An hour passed with the knights chatting merrily and Arthur interrupting to make some jokes at Merlin’s expense. There were a couple bites and honks, but otherwise, Merlin couldn’t argue very well. He also never left the comfort of Arthur’s lap, so Arthur figured he couldn’t really be mad.

The next morning, they packed up camp and settled on their horses before starting the trek back to Camelot. Not surprisingly, they happened to be ambushed by a crew of bandits. It wasn’t the first time something like this had happened, but Arthur and the knights still managed to be surprised.

Arthur took Merlin out of his pouch and set him on the ground. “Merlin, run!” Merlin looked back at him and honked angrily. “If you don’t run, then at least hide, you idiot!” Arthur yelled before unsheathing his sword and blocking a hit from the bandit in front of him. Merlin waddled off behind a tree quickly to strategize.

The knights had already assembled into a protective formation. They were on the defensive since the bandits had the advantage of surprise. Despite being distracted by watching Merlin in case he gets hurt, Arthur was still taking down multiple bandits at a time. There were more bandits then they had anticipated, though, so their formation got closer and closer as the bandits pushed them together.

Arthur snuck a look to where he had seen Merlin hide right as Merlin stepped out. His eyes glowed gold and several tree branches snapped above the bandits, knocking them out on their way down. Merlin had effectively incapacitated a little under half of the bandits without even a word (or honk, he supposed). Arthur stood, paralyzed, before pushing it to the back of his mind.

Unfortunately, one of the bandits took advantage of Arthur’s brief moment of weakness and slashed at his arm. Arthur took pride in being Camelot’s best warrior, so he managed to dodge most of the blow, but the bandit had the added benefit of. Arthur’s eyes flicked back to Merlin just in time to see Merlin let out a murderous honk with his eyes fixed on Arthur’s attacker.

In a flash, Merlin was charging forwards, his wings flapping menacingly. Arthur’s eyes widened as Merlin landed, teeth sinking into the back of the man’s neck. Merlin looked up and honked at Arthur with what looked to be a glare and a roll of his eyes. Arthur shook his head and turned back to the fight, his eyes occasionally (read: often) straying back to watch Merlin.

Arthur had never seen Merlin so vicious before, though, so you can’t blame him for being a bit more distracted than usual. He could just tell that Merlin was taking out more bandits than the rest of them combined . And he wasn’t even using magic for a lot of it! Arthur’s thoughts jolted for a second, but he pushed it all away again. It didn’t matter at the moment, after all. Once they returned to Camelot… Then Arthur could think about it.

It was clear that the bandits were starting to fear the merciless goose that was currently ripping at their own, so it was only inevitable that most of them would flee, screaming. They all stood there for a minute before Gwaine spoke up.

“Wow, Merlin. You really showed them, huh? No one messes with Arthur like that if you have anything to say about it.” He grinned and picked up Merlin to pinch his cheeks.

“How does it feel to have a goose as a protector, sire?” Elyan asked, slapping Arthur on the back as he after his horse that had fled from the fight.

“I can handle myself. I don’t need a protector, and I especially don’t need Merlin as a protector!” Arthur huffed, stalking off to find Llamrei before she wandered off too far. He doesn’t need a sorcerer to protect him. Merlin honked from where Gwaine was holding him and wriggled out of his arms to waddle over to Arthur. “What is it, Merlin?”

Merlin flapped his wings and honked at Arthur. He looked like he was pouting, but that’s ridiculous. Geese don’t pout. Arthur just looked down at him and furrowed his brows.

“He wants you to pick him up, sire,” Lancelot said, throwing him a wink. Merlin flapped his wings again, his eyes twinkling. Arthur sighed and picked him up, setting him gently in the pouch. Arthur watched Merlin lean back onto his chest and felt his heart clench painfully. He frowned and went back to looking for Llamrei, forcing all thoughts out of his mind yet again.

***

They arrived back at Camelot just in time for dinner, where Arthur relayed the encounter with the bandits to the king, leaving out any mentions of Merlin. It wasn’t that he wanted to lie to his father, it was just… Merlin didn’t know. With all Merlin has done for him, the least Arthur could do was talk to him before he made a decision. He could hardly do any of that with Merlin as a goose, though.

While they rode back, Arthur had stayed silent, trying to cope with this new information. He had shut down. Then he overheard Gwaine talking to Percival about going to the tavern together. Taking advantage of the opportunity when it presented itself, Arthur had ridden up next to his knights and interrupted their conversation.

“Ah, the tavern, you say? Would you mind taking Merlin with you?” Arthur had glanced down at Merlin, asleep in his pouch.

“I’m sure he’s been dying to hang out with someone other than me. We spent enough time together before this whole goose thing happened.”

Gwaine chuckled and said, “Are you really sure about that? He always wants you to pick him up instead of us most of the time. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind a little more of your company…” Arthur had huffed and opened his mouth to argue, but before he could, Percival cut in.

“If you’re positive, sire, it wouldn’t be any trouble for me and Gwaine to take Merlin with us. It might be fun. I know Gwaine will be excited to have a mischief buddy for once.” Percival smiled at Arthur before looking over at Gwaine and punching him in the shoulder playfully.

Arthur narrowed his eyebrows at Gwaine. “I suddenly feel less comfortable about putting him in your care, but you are complying with what I asked… Just don’t get Merlin into any real trouble. He can get into more than enough on his own.” Arthur sighed before pushing Llamrei to lead the way back to Camelot.

So Merlin was otherwise occupied for the rest of the evening, leaving Arthur alone with his thoughts (of which there were more than expected). Firstly, sorcery. There was no doubt that Merlin had used magic against the bandits; Arthur had seen it with his own eyes! And sorcery was evil, wasn’t it? Therefore Merlin must be evil. Now another problem arose. Feelings. Arthur could admit that in the last couple of years, he had grown more than fond of his manservant. Some might even say besotted. He was probably being quite obvious about it if the knights were any indication.

It was hardly his fault though! He and Merlin had been through a lot together. With the amount of time they spent in each other’s company, you couldn’t blame Arthur for falling in love. And that’s what it was. Love. He’d never been comfortable with the idea of love. Princes aren’t supposed to fall in love. Princes are supposed to marry to strengthen alliances. Marry for the kingdom. Then Merlin crawled into his heart and claimed it. Arthur could say with confidence that he was in love. But where did that leave him?

It was safe to say that the shock of seeing Merlin do magic had finally worn off, but with it came the fear that his father had instilled in him. Are his feelings for Merlin stopping him from seeing the evil that’s corrupted him? Could Merlin have been playing the long game this whole time? No. That’s ridiculous. Merlin was nothing if not loving. Anyone who met him could tell you that.

Arthur thought back to every adventure he had with Merlin, and his heart clenched. Every time something felt off, he had brushed it off in fear of uncovering something he wouldn’t like. He couldn’t brush it off this time, and it killed him. Merlin saved him day after day and didn’t expect anything in return. He was content to stay at Arthur’s side without getting any recognition. Arthur could never, in good conscience, kill Merlin after all he had done for Camelot. All he had done for him. Especially not while he remained a goose.

So Arthur had a choice to make. Lie to protect the man he loved from dying by his father’s unyielding hand, or tell his father that Merlin is a sorcerer and by extension, betray Merlin’s trust and lead him to his death. There was no question about it. Arthur deserved to be a little selfish for once.

***

Gwaine set Merlin down in a chair before signaling for the barmaid. “So, what do you say, Merlin? Want anything to eat?” Merlin gave an affirmative honk and settled into the chair for a night of third-wheeling and mischief.

When the barmaid walked over, Gwaine sent Percival a wink before saying, “Two jugs of ale, please. Also, do you sell any pies?”

The barmaid nodded, writing down the order of ale. “Yes, sir. We’ve got meat pies.”

Gwaine grinned, clapping his hands together. “Wonderful! We’ll take two of your meat pies then.” He looked over the table at Merlin and then turned to Percival and raised his eyebrows suggestively. Percival went pink at the tips of his ears, but he smiled back at Gwaine, curious to see what Gwaine had planned. “Do you happen to have any vegetables?”

“Well, we have some vegetables in the back that we use to cook… We don’t have any cooked vegetable plates or anything like that.” The barmaid said, casting a glance at Merlin out of the corner of her eye.

Gwaine laughed, smiling impishly at Merlin. “No, no. They don’t need to be cooked. See, the vegetables are for my friend here. Is it possible for you to get a bowl of some peas and cut-up carrots in some water? I’m sure he would love that.” Merlin honked and glared at Gwaine.

The barmaid shook her head in astonishment before writing down the outlandish order. “Sure, I suppose I can do that. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“No, I think that’s it.” Gwaine looked over at Percival for confirmation, and when he nodded, the barmaid walked away to grab their drinks. “Soooo… Merlin. Tell us. What’s been going on with you?”

Percival slapped Gwaine lightly on the arm. “Come now, Gwaine. Don’t rile him up. It’s bad enough that he can’t banter with us like usual. You don’t have to taunt him about it too.” Merlin gave a short honk and nodded his head sharply in agreement. “That being said, Merlin. How do you feel without Arthur by your side? It’s gotta be kind of relaxing, right?”

Merlin sat silently for a few seconds before hanging his head and letting out a long, solemn honk.

“No, you’re right, Percival,” Gwaine said, shaking his head. “I think I can get the general idea, but this is no way to have a conversation.”

Percival laughed. “I guess we’ll have to do most of the talking tonight, huh?” He propped his head on his hand and gazed at Gwaine. “I think I could live with that.” Merlin gave an offended honk, but the knights just laughed.

A couple minutes later, the barmaid brought out their drinks along with Merlin’s bowl of vegetables, giving Merlin’s head a little pat before going back to grab the pies. Merlin watched Gwaine drain his mug of ale over and over again throughout the night (while Percival followed at a slower pace) before resolving to ignore them and eat his peas. Not being able to joke around with his friends anymore was really getting him down, so you couldn’t blame him for wallowing in his sorrows by eating a bowl of raw vegetables.

Unfortunately, when Merlin finally looked up from his unhappy munching, it was to mugs of booze being thrown across the tavern. By not paying attention to Gwaine and Percival, Merlin had found himself in the middle of a bar fight. It should have been expected at this point, but Merlin was nothing if not unrealistically optimistic.

“Don’t start throwing fists with me just because your companion is a crooked-nosed knave!” Some man yelled, spit flying out of his mouth with every word.

“Oh, you absolute gobermouch! You keep yer fat face out of our lives.” Gwaine threw his fist clumsily towards the man’s nose, but Percival caught his wrist just in time.

“Gwaine, it’s fine. I don’t want you to fight him. You could get hurt!” Percival pleaded, holding Gwaine by the shoulders and looking into his eyes.

“Yeah!” the nasty old coot taunted, “You’re a mandrake mymmerkin. I doubt you’d be able to land a hit!” Gwaine grit his teeth and tried to refrain from lashing out. Percival had no such reserves.

“YOU TAKE THAT BACK, YOU UGLY LOUT!” Percival marched up to the old man, pointing a finger in his face. “Don’t you take a single step closer to him!”

Merlin jumped up from his seat at the table and charged at the drunk man. He dropped his mug of ale in surprise, spilling the contents onto Merlin’s back. Merlin launched himself into the air, flinging drops of ale everywhere, and bit at the man’s head.

“Yeah, get ‘im, Merls!” Gwaine slurred drunkenly, sloshing his mug around with one arm around Percival’s shoulders.

“Make it quick, Merlin,” said an infinitely less drunk Percival. “Arthur made us promise that we wouldn’t get you into any trouble.”

Merlin settled for a few more bites and a couple deep scratches across the man’s face before flapping over to the pair. Percival scooped Merlin into the arm not supporting Gwaine and attempted to get them back to the castle as quickly as possible. Obviously, it was much more difficult considering that Gwaine was plastered.

Eventually, they found themselves in front of the door to Arthur’s chambers. Percival took one look at Merlin (soaked to the bone in ale) and then at Gwaine (absolutely sloshed, as one would expect) and shivered. Arthur would not be happy. One of the guards standing to the side of Arthur’s door patted Percival on the back solemnly.

Percival raised his fist and knocked on the door.

“Enter!”

He took a deep breath and pushed the door open. Arthur looked up from his dinner and promptly frowned. Merlin wriggled out of Percival’s arms and waddled over to the prince. Arthur swiftly picked Merlin up and set him in his lap before realizing that his hands came away sticky.

“Right… What happened?” Arthur turned an unimpressed eyebrow to his knights, ignoring the goose that was snuggling into his lap. Percival opened his mouth to respond until Gwaine cut him off.

“Merls was third-wheeling our date!” Gwaine yelled, flopping his head onto Percival’s shoulder. “And then! And then this old man was being really mean.” He pouted with his eyes scrunched while Percival ran his finger’s through Gwaine’s hair. Both Arthur and Percival waited for him to continue until Gwaine let out a loud snore and burrowed his face deeper into Percival’s neck.

“I think,” Percival turned his attention back to the prince, “what Gwaine was trying to say, my lord, is that a bar-fight started. Gwaine was already well on his way towards alcohol poisoning, so Merlin took it upon himself to step in. I decided to bring us back as quickly as possible.”

Arthur sighed, running his fingers through his hair (and immediately regretting it when his hands got stuck for a moment). “I can’t fault either of you for this. I admit… I did expect something to happen. Thank you for taking Merlin with you anyway. You are dismissed.”

Percival nodded and picked Gwaine up bridal-style to carry him out of Arthur’s chambers.

***

As soon as the door shut behind his knights, Arthur looked down at Merlin. “You need a bath. You stink more than Gwaine’s old socks.” Merlin honked indignantly and nipped at Arthur’s arm. Arthur tucked Merlin under his arm and stuck his head out his chamber door to ask for a bath to be drawn.

“Okay, Merlin. We have to get that disgusting ale smell out of your feathers. Why do I ever let you hang out with Gwaine? Next time, I’m coming with you…” Arthur ran his fingers through Merlin’s feathers and poured water down his back gently.

Merlin gave an amused honk and looked over his shoulder to shoot Arthur a smirk. Arthur huffed and rolled his eyes in response.

“No, I would not! And if I did, it would be because you and Gwaine riled me up. There is no way I could start something on my own.” Arthur glared down at Merlin, scrubbing him with the soap a bit more forcefully than necessary.

Merlin’s eyes softened as he settled more comfortably into the bath. He honked again fondly, nudging Arthur’s arm with his head.

“Yes, I suppose it would be more fun with you there… Even if you would be the one getting me in trouble.” Arthur rinsed Merlin thoroughly one last time before picking him up out of the water and wrapping him in a towel. “So, Merlin… How would you feel about that mind link?”

Merlin looked up and honked confidently, looking Arthur in the eyes. Arthur nodded, patting Merlin’s head before making the trek down to Gaius’s chambers.

Raising his fist, Arthur knocked on the door before calling out, “Gaius! It’s Prince Arthur. I have Merlin with me.”

“Come in.”

Arthur pushed open the door and stepped into the room. He sat down at Gaius’s workbench, Merlin in his lap, and started explaining. “If it’s possible, I think we should do the mind link. Merlin and I can communicate well enough, but it’s not like I can hear exactly what he’s saying.” He stopped to cover the sides of Merlin’s head with his hands while Merlin honked, miffed. “Don’t tell Merlin I said this, but I kind of miss his witty remarks and taunts. It’s not the same with him like this.” Uncovering Merlin’s ears, Arthur ruffled his head feathers and smirked at him.

Gaius hid a tiny smile before turning seriously to Arthur. “I’ve told you before, sire. A mind link between you and Merlin would be permanent.” Gaius said this last word pointedly to Merlin, giving him a stare that left Arthur wondering. Did Gaius know? Is that why he was so against the idea?

“Gaius, I assure you that the idea doesn’t bother me too much. You never know, it might be nice to have Merlin babbling along in my head all day. That’s why I am making this his decision. If he doesn’t like the idea of a permanent mind link, then we will find another way to communicate.” Arthur stared Gaius in the eyes, trying to convey his thoughts through only a look. Then, he looked down at Merlin and gave him a small smile.

Merlin looked at Arthur fondly before waddling up to Gaius. He honked seriously and nudged Gaius’s hand with his head.

“Okay, Merlin. If you’re sure. Arthur, could you grab those plants from over there?” While Arthur left to grab the herbs, Gaius mumbled the mind link spell over two vials of water. Arthur handed him the herbs, and he crushed them with the mortar and pestle before stirring them into the water. “Done. You will both need to drink the entire vial, and it might take a while before it takes effect. I hope this helps.”

“Thank you, Gaius. We’ll come back if we need anything else.” Arthur scooped Merlin back under his arm, the vials clutched in his hands, as they returned to his chambers.

As soon as they walked through the door, he set Merlin on his pillow and helped him drink one of the potions. After taking the other one, Arthur walked around the room, silently cleaning up to stop his shaking hands. He almost didn’t want the potions to work if only to stop himself from exposing his heart in a moment of vulnerability.

Merlin watched Arthur from his place on the bed for a few minutes until suddenly, “Stop cleaning and pay attention to me, clotpole. If you can even call it ‘cleaning’. It’s more like… ‘picking-things-up-then-putting-them-somewhere-else’. Maybe we should get Gwen to teach you.”

Arthur whipped around to stare at a smirking Merlin before tentatively asking, “So… it worked?”

Merlin rolled his eyes. “Well, yes, I would imagine so considering we aren’t speaking out loud.”

Arthur sat down slowly on the edge of his bed and said, “Let’s get started then.” Merlin got up from his pillow and waddled over to the edge of the bed before plopping down next Arthur and leaning on his thigh. Keeping his eyes trained on the wall, Arthur spoke again, his voice deadpan and his face deliberately blank, “You’re a sorcerer.”

Merlin snapped his head up to look at Arthur. His face betrayed nothing, and he spared no glance towards Merlin’s reaction, but Merlin could tell that he was tense. From what, he couldn’t say. Starting to become frantic, Merlin stood up quickly and hopped off the bed.

Arthur hung his head and squeezed his eyes shut, not willing to watch Merlin walk out of his chambers forever without so much as a goodbye.

Pacing the floor, Merlin was having an internal crisis. How much did Arthur really know? Is he trying to get Merlin to confess just so he can have him executed? When did he find out? Why hasn’t he said anything until now?

The slap, slap, slap of Merlin’s feet hadn’t gotten any more distant. In fact, it didn’t seem like it was going anywhere. Arthur looked up slowly, not sure what to expect. A goose pacing his floors really shouldn’t have been that surprising considering the last few days.

“What are you doing?” Arthur was starting to lose his carefully crafted mask, but he did his best to hold at least some air of authority.

Merlin turned sharply to face his prince. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m having a damn crisis, you prat!”

Arthur crossed his arms over his chest and pulled the mask back on. “Why on earth are you having a crisis? Surely you knew that you’re a sorcerer.”

Merlin huffed aggressively and went back to pacing. “Of course I knew! I’m having a crisis over you!”

“Me? Why over me?”

“How about you answer my questions first? How long have you known? Why haven’t you said anything? When’s my execution? Does Uther already know?” With every question, Merlin took another step closer to Arthur.

Arthur had told himself that Merlin would never hurt him, but he could admit that Merlin was beginning to scare him. Arthur was trying desperately to keep the mask up, but it was cracking.

With Arthur’s terrified face staring down at him, Merlin halted. “Are you really scared of me? After everything?”

Arthur stood up suddenly, eyes stinging, and took a step towards Merlin. “Why shouldn’t I be? You could kill me without breaking a sweat. I’ve seen you do it before!”

Merlin stood his ground. “Then kill me! Have me executed. Everyone knows that all sorcerers are evil, so I don’t deserve anything but the pyre.”

Arthur’s face crumpled, and he dropped to the ground. “Don’t you understand?” he sobbed, “I can’t!”

Merlin instinctively took a few steps forward after seeing his prince in pain before shaking his head and stopping abruptly. “What do you mean you can’t? I’m evil, aren’t I? It’s your duty.”

“Because I love you!” Arthur snapped his mouth shut, eyes wide, before sighing heavily. “I can’t kill you because I’m in love with you…” Arthur dropped his head onto his knees and took a shuddering breath. Ignoring Merlin’s stares, he tried to calm himself and half-heartedly plaster his mask back together. He opened his mouth, hoping to make a joke at Merlin’s expense and save himself the humiliation, but Merlin interrupted him.

“You… love me?” Merlin’s eyes had a hopeful glint as he took a few tentative steps forward.

Arthur leaned back, covering his face with his hands and groaned softly. “Unfortunately, yes. I do.”

Silence. The pause stretched on unbearably until Arthur couldn’t take it anymore.

“I understand if you don’t feel the same. I am your prince, and as such, I have power over you. I would never want you to feel obligated to return my feelings. I am not trying to force you into anything by confessing. You are my closest friend and I would never want to destroy our bond like this.”

Suddenly, Merlin was standing on Arthur’s knees, nosing at his fingers with his beak. Arthur slowly pulled his hands away from his eyes, staring back at Merlin cautiously. Merlin looked back at him fondly.

“When have I ever treated you like a prince?” Merlin snuggled into Arthur’s neck comfortingly. “You’re the most obnoxious person I’ve ever met. It is entirely my fault for falling in love with you.”

Arthur let out a wet chuckle and ran his hands through Merlin’s feathers, pressing him closer to his chest. “I can’t believe this is real. I feel like I’m dreaming.”

Merlin nipped lightly at Arthur’s ear. “Just wait until I tell you about all the times I’ve saved your life. You’re going to wish you were dreaming.”

Moving onto the bed, the prince and his manservant argued over their adventures for the rest of the evening, cuddled close and content. Eventually, Merlin yawned, nuzzling into Arthur’s chest.

“Come on, you should get some sleep. You had an adventurous day today.” Arthur set Merlin next to his pillow and tucked him under the blankets before dressing himself for bed. As he lay down to sleep, he pressed a tender kiss to Merlin’s forehead. “Goodnight, Merlin.”

***

When Merlin awoke, it was to a firm body pressed against his back and a strong arm wrapped around his very naked and very human chest. He’s human again? But how? Did Arthur do something to change him back? After having a mild freak out, Merlin rolled over to face his prince.

There was a sudden snort before Arthur pressed his face further into his pillow. Merlin smiled and leaned in to press a quick kiss to Arthur’s nose before snuggling closer. He had gotten used to the continuous hugs and cuddles that he had gotten as a goose, and he certainly wasn’t going to give them up now. Besides, human cuddles had to be infinitely better than goose hugs. Arthur let out a content snore, his arm tightening around Merlin’s waist as he pulled him impossibly closer.

Merlin sighed happily and drifted back to sleep, safe in the arms of someone who loved him unconditionally. Safe in the arms of his soulmate.

Of course, he woke again a few hours later to a loud yelp before he was pulled off the bed in a tangle of blankets.

“Arthur!” Merlin whined, “I was so comfortable!”

“Yes well you’re also very naked, so you can’t blame me for having a bit of a panic,” Arthur said, his head falling back to the ground.

“Surely this isn’t the first time you’ve seen me naked,” Merlin said, tilting his head to the side with a small smirk.

“What do you mean? Of course this is the first time I’ve seen you naked! I’m not a pervert!”

“Oh… Well, I’ve seen you naked many times, and I’m not a pervert,” Merlin says, grinning and nudging Arthur with his elbow. Arthur stared back at him, blinking slowly, lips pursed. Merlin pouted and flopped over Arthur’s chest.

“How did you turn human again, anyway?” Arthur asked, running his fingers through his hair and staring up at the ceiling. “Did you do some magic to turn back? It can’t be a coincidence that you turned back after we talked… I’ve known for about a day and you didn’t turn back then.”

Merlin hummed into Arthur’s chest. “Maybe it was all part of the curse. That old lady did do a bit of monologuing before she cast the spell…”

“Of course! Do you remember what she said? Wasn’t it ‘unless you accept magic and show love and compassion’ or something like that? Maybe since I showed you acceptance and confessed my feelings, it reversed the curse!” Arthur grinned down at Merlin looking pretty proud of himself for figuring it out.

Merlin snorted. “Yeah, Arthur, I know. I just didn’t expect it to be you. I figured I’d be stuck as a goose forever if it was Uther that had to accept magic.” He let out a comfortable sigh. “I’m glad it was you. Anyway, can we go back to bed now?”

“No, I don’t think so… I should really get to training, and you need to put some clothes on. Can’t have anyone walking in and seeing you like this, can we?” Arthur smirked, patting Merlin’s shoulder as he stood up.

Merlin grinned back at him from his place in the blankets, leaning on his elbow and winking. “Yeah, only you can see me like this, right?”

Arthur’s face turned bright red. His eyes darkened and his eyelids lidded before he shook his head quickly. “Stop trying to seduce me back to bed. I really need to get to training.” After looking around his room, he turned back to Merlin. “You should really clean this place up. It has gotten quite messy in your absence.”

Merlin huffed as he untangled himself from the blankets. His eyes turned gold for a moment before he was wearing some of Arthur’s clothes. He winked at Arthur’s blushing face and said, “I guess you should get going then, sire. I have a lot of work to do.”

Arthur walked over to the door but stopped before he opened it. “Can I have a kiss for luck?” He asked, giving Merlin his best puppy dog eyes.

“Come now, sire. We both know you don’t need any luck to train your knights,” Merlin said as he made Arthur’s bed. He turned to Arthur, and his resolve crumbled. “Oh, alright. I guess I can spare you a kiss.”

Merlin walked closer to Arthur and cupped his cheek. Smiling, Merlin leaned in and pressed a sweet kiss to Arthur’s lips. Unwilling to let Merlin get away that easily, Arthur put his hand on Merlin’s hip and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. Merlin moaned softly before pulling away with a wide grin.

“I think you have more than enough luck to best even Gwaine in training. Go show them why you’re Albion’s greatest knight.” Merlin pressed another quick kiss to Arthur’s cheek before pushing him out the door. “Have fun!”

While Arthur walked down to the armory, Merlin used his magic to clean up Arthur’s room, leaving the laundry for himself. Watching the knights train from the window, Merlin did his chores with a smile on his face. He was finally right where he belonged. He and Arthur were going to bring magic back to Albion, he was certain of it.

That didn’t mean he couldn’t have a little fun at Arthur’s expense. He hadn’t become any less of a nuisance when he turned back, after all.

Using their new mind link, Merlin screamed, “Arthur, I’m getting naked in your bed!”

Merlin giggled to himself as Arthur stumbled in the middle of a swing, his eyes wide and his face bright red, leaving Gwaine open to hit him to the ground. As Gwaine helped him up, Arthur looked side to side before turning to see Merlin waving down at him cheekily from the window.

“MERLIN!”

#merlin #merthur #merthur fic #arthur #arthur pendragon #fanfiction #my fic

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