#and yes merlin au doesn't really fit in with the fairy tale/myth prompt

[chapter-61]

thank you

CARRY ON COUNTDOWN DAY 20: Fairy Tale/Myth Retelling

AO3, AU

You must never show your magic to anyone except for your aunt, his mother’s voice reminds him.

It’s hard to keep that in mind while a man is being executed right in front of him, on the grounds that he’s a magician. Baz knows the man is not a magician, he doesn’t feel any traces of magic coming from him, but he can’t do anything about it.

He watches, alongside the group of townspeople surrounding him, the man getting dragged to the middle. Above them, on the castle balcony, the king is speaking. David Pendragon. Apparently, the queen was killed by magic, or “sorcery” as the king calls it, and since then magic has been punishable by death. That’s what his mother told him, anyway.

When the executioner lifts his weapon (it looks like a big axe), Baz looks away. His gut tells him to do something, but he promised. He’s not planning on dying anytime soon.

His gaze falls on a long open window, on the side of the castle, where a woman is looking out. She’s holding onto the side of the window, her wide eyes on the execution platform. Wild brown hair surrounds her round face, big spectacles on her nose and she’s wearing a dark blue dress. She doesn’t look very happy. Baz wonders who it is and why her reaction doesn’t match the excitement of the people.

The axe comes down and the crowd applauds.

As the king finishes his speech (“bla bla, sorcery is evil”), Baz turns away and wrestles through the gathered people. Fiona should be inside the castle, and he wants to get there before the guards return.

The voice of an old woman makes him stop. The crowd gasps when she shouts at the king with tears in her eyes. Baz watches, intrigued, until the woman says: “An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a son for a son!”

He feels sorry for her, but she won’t escape after threatening the prince like that.

“Seize her!” The king shouts.

Then, the woman mumbles something, and vanishes with a flash of light and whirling wind. Everyone looks astonished at the place where the woman had been just a moment before, but after a few seconds the crowd disperses with loud whispers.

Baz is rooted to the spot. This woman, a clearly potent magician, vowed to kill the crown prince. He doesn’t harbour any strong feelings for the royal family, but he’s supposed to be a student of the court ‘physician’. The death of the prince would definitely hamper his lessons and he’s looking forward to them. His mother might even say he needs those lessons more than he needs food. An exaggeration, of course, but she’s right about his grasp on his magic.

Natasha taught him as much as she could in their house, behind Malcolm’s back, which wasn’t ideal. His father is an advisor to the advisor of the king, and he certainly wouldn’t condone magic. He obviously doesn’t know about Natasha’s magic, and she’s tried her best to keep Baz’ magic a secret as well. That didn’t make it quite easy to practise, so his mother send him to the palace to learn from Fiona, because apparently it’s safer in the castle than at home (absurd).

He glances up at the open window again, but the young woman is gone. With one last look at the spot where the magician disappeared, he heads to the castle.

*

The next morning, he’s suffering through breakfast. If bland porridge counts as breakfast. “Aunt Fiona, this is disgusting.”

Fiona’s walking around the kitchen, touching objects and mumbling words to make them move and clean. It’s strange to see magic being used in such a mundane way, but it also feels nice. As if this is where he’s supposed to be. “Stop complaining, Basilton. I’m teaching you magic for free, the least you could do is not be an arse.”

Even though it’s been five years since Baz last saw her, Fiona still looks and acts the same. Her dark hair has a white streak in it (she told him it happened during a fight, but his mother said it’s just an ill-advised choice that Fiona doesn’t want to fix), and her black robes are tied with a blood red cord around her waist, the same colour as her lips.

She disappears into a side room, and comes back holding two vials. She puts them in front of him. “Deliver these for me. The yellow one is for Nico, the blue one for Possibelf. Make sure she doesn’t drink it all in one go.”

Baz looks down at the vials and back at Fiona, standing before him with crossed arms and a lifted eyebrow. “I have no idea who those people are.”

She rolls her eyes and picks up his bowl. “Ask around.”

“I wasn’t finished eating.”

“Be quicker next time, I have a busy day planned.”

Baz gets to his feet with a sigh. The porridge was awful anyway. Maybe he can steal a sandwich from the kitchen. If he ever finds the kitchen.

“Wait, Basilton.” Fiona holds out a few sheets of paper. “Throw that in the fire, will you?”

The fireplace is on the other side of the room, though. And he hasn’t used his magic in a few days now, it’s starting to prickle. So instead, he puts the sheets on the nearest stone table and waves his hand over them. They light on fire immediately, and in a few seconds they’re nothing but ash. He smiles. Fire magic has always been his favourite.

“What the fuck was that?”

He turns around with a frown. There wasn’t anyone around, right? Fiona looks at him and back at the incinerated sheets. “What?” He asks.

“What did you just do?”

“I burned the sheets.”

“How?!”

“I...” He feels lost. “Magic?”

“But… You didn’t use a spell. How is that possible? What did you do?”

“I don’t need a spell to light something on fire, I just think about it and it happens. Is that not what magic is?”

Fiona’s eyes are wide. “It’s definitely not. All forms of magic require spells, even the small ones. You didn’t say anything?”

“No? I just,” he waves his hand around. “I thought about lighting it on fire and it worked. I did it all the time at home.”

“Natasha knew?”

“Of course!”

“Shit. So she wasn’t exaggerating when she said you were powerful.”

“I’m powerful?”

“Kid, you can do magic without saying anything. I’ve never heard of that before.”

Baz leans on the table for support. Natasha always told him he was special but he thought that was just a thing mothers did. “What now?”

She takes the vials and pushes them in Baz’ hands. Then she shoves him out the door. “Deliver those. I need to think.”

*

Two hours pass, and Baz is looking for the kitchen. This castle is massive, he keeps ending up where he started. He managed to find Nico and Possibelf eventually with help from the guards, but it wasn’t an easy task. He’s hoping Fiona doesn’t keep using him as a carrier pigeon and actually teaches him some magic spells in the afternoon, but that does not seem very likely.

He turns another corner and finds himself in a wide room, empty except for three people. He immediately recognizes one of them as the woman he saw the day before, with her wild hair and round figure. She’s wearing another expensive-looking blue dress. Next to her is a taller woman, with long blonde hair and fair skin. She looks like a maid, wearing a dirty servant dress, but she’s chatting with the noble woman so she must not be that low-ranking.  

The women are looking at the spectacle in front of them. And what a spectacle, indeed. Baz creeps into the room and leans against the back wall, hidden in the shadows. Now he has a better view of the man, untamed blonde curls on his head, bright blue eyes, a tight shirt across his broad chest and sweat dripping down his neck. He’s incredibly attractive, and Baz’ eyes are stuck to the muscles in his back, flexing when he swings his sword around.

Baz never found sword fighting appealing, but he’s quickly revising that opinion.

When he finally pulls his eyes away, however, he notices the lack of skill the man possesses. Being the son of the advisor of the advisor of the king, he’s had his fair share of sword lessons. This man, it seems, has not had a lot of practice.

The women aren’t giving much commentary, they look like they’re mostly chatting among themselves while the man tires himself out, punching around with the sword in hand.

When the man does another inexperienced jab and stumbles over his feet, Baz can’t help a loud snort. The three of them turn around immediately to face him.

Having blown his cover, he walks out of the shadows confidently with a smile and raised hands. “Excuse me, hope I’m not intruding. I’m afraid I got a bit lost.”

“You got lost so you decided to watch us from the shadows?” The man asks suspiciously. It doesn’t make him any less attractive. Baz tries to focus by looking at the women.

“I’m Basilton Grimm-Pitch,” he tells them. “New assistant of the court physician.”

“Nice to meet you, Basilton,” says the smaller woman with an amused smile. “I’m Penelope Bunce, King David’s niece.” So he was right, she is a noble. A highly noble woman, family of the king. She gestures at the blonde woman. “This is my friend, Agatha. She works here.”

Baz tilts his head forward. “It’s an honour. If I may ask a question?”

Penelope nods.

He gestures at the man, who hasn’t said a word since his first sentence. “Why are you two wonderful women wasting your time watching this incompetent idiot? He doesn’t even know how to hold his sword properly.”

Penelope bursts out laughing and Agatha covers a smile with her hand. Baz looks over at the man with a smile, but he’s met with a withering look.

“Excuse me?” The man says, his face turning red.

“I didn’t mean to offend,” Baz says, but when Penelope keeps giggling, he figures he could go a bit further to entertain. He steps closer with a cocky smile. “Your moves could use some work. I’ve seen toddlers fight better than you.”

Penelope starts laughing again and she has to lean on Agatha to keep upright. It seems like he’s made a friend, maybe.

He’s not made a friend of the man, though. It’s a pity, but it would probably be better to steer away from attractive men.

Then the man lifts his sword in Baz’ direction with a menacing look in his eyes. “Do you have any idea who you’re talking to?”

Baz huffs a laugh, not wanting to be intimidated. “The king?” He jokes.

The man steps closer and pushes the sword tip into Baz’ chest. “My name,” he growls. “Is Simon Pendragon. And I’m the crown prince.”

Baz’ soul leaves his body. Fuck. He’s staring at the man, the crown prince, Simon bloody Pendragon, with wide eyes. Now he’s definitely never seeing his mother again. He’ll rot away in a cell at the bottom of the castle.

Thankfully, Penelope comes to his rescue. “Simon, calm down. He’s joking.”

Baz nods and steps backwards, away from the sharp tip. “I’m very sorry, your highness. I simply did not recognize you.”

“No shit,” the prince says, not lowering his sword, his eyes fixed on Baz. “Agatha, fetch a guard.”

Panic starts to rise but he presses it down and musters up a smile. “You’re going to throw me in jail because I made a comment about your sword fighting skill?”

“I could have you hanged, if you prefer that.”

“Simon.” Penelope doesn’t look too bothered. Maybe the prince is just all talk. Agatha has disappeared, presumably looking for a guard.

“I have a proposition,” Baz says, digging his grave even deeper because, for some reason, annoying the crown prince brings him pleasure. Maybe it’s because the scowl on his face makes him look more human, and less perfect. “What if we fight it out?”

“What?”

“Give me a sword, the winner decides what happens to me.” Baz throws him a challenging look.

The prince looks confused for a second. He must not be used to people talking back to him. Then his expression clears up and he smiles. It’s not very reassuring. “Fine,” the prince says. “I’ll fight you. Too bad there’s no sword for you.”

Before he can react, the prince charges at him. Baz panics and closes his eyes, bracing himself. When he doesn’t feel or hear anything after a second, he opens his eyes again, and his mouth falls open.

Everyone’s frozen in time. The prince is in the middle of his attack, raised sword, eyebrows furrowed, not blinking. Penelope stands still, her eyes on the prince, one hand reaching for him.

Baz walks around slowly, the pair like statues, and goes to a window. He’s shocked to see that everything outside is frozen as well. Everyone and everything is stuck, unmoving, in the middle of a motion. It looks like a painting.

Shit. Did he do this? How does he undo it? He’s not looking forward to telling Fiona about this.

He walks back to Penelope and the prince, and goes to stand in the same place he started. Then he looks at the prince’s sword, aiming for him, and he takes a big step to the left.

He tries to think about what makes his magic work. Fiona says it’s not normal, but it’s how he does it. Baz waves his hand and thinks, ‘please, let the time continue’.

Suddenly, the prince stumbles forward and Penelope’s reaching for him. They both look confused at the spot he was at before, and then at Baz. Penelope squints at him.

The prince says, “What the fuck.” Very princely.

“You missed,” Baz can’t help but say. He looks over at the window but everything seems to be okay again. The birds are flying around and people on the ground are moving. Disaster averted. Nobody even noticed.

“Impossible.”

“You should work on your aim.”

“You fucking git.”

Before the prince can insult him more, Agatha arrives with a guard.

“I’ve got this handled,” Penelope says before Baz can come up with an escape plan. She nods at the prince. “Go have some lunch.”

Surprisingly, the prince doesn’t protest and leaves with the guard and Agatha in tow. Disaster averted, again.

“Thank you,” he says.

“Simon can get a bit hot-headed sometimes. Definitely when he’s practising.”

“Why can’t the prince fight? Shouldn’t he get training?”

Penelope shakes her head. “David doesn’t want him to fight. He says a good king doesn’t need to be able to fight, he needs to be righteous and diplomatic. Personally, I think the king is afraid of being overthrown by his own son.”

Baz’ eyes snap to Penelope. “Why would the prince overthrow the king?”

She shrugs. “Simon isn’t planning on it, but he doesn’t agree with a lot of his father’s policies either.”

“Hm.”

“Not the magic one, sadly. The death of his mother hit him hard. One of these days I’ll convince him.”

“You don’t think magicians should be punished?” He asks, carefully. It would explain why Penelope looked like that at the execution the previous day.

She snorts. “I’d be a hypocrite if I thought that.”

“What?”

“I’m a magician, Basilton.”

“What?” He sputters. “You can’t just… tell me that. You don’t know what I could...”

Penelope rolls her eyes. “I’m not an idiot. You did something while Simon tried to hit you. You’re clearly a magician too. And Fiona told me.”

He’s still trying to process the fact that Penelope has magic too. Fiona told her about him? And she didn’t even bother to mention it? He was going to have words with her later.

“Don’t look that scared about it, this is great! I’ll have a magic mate. Could you teach me what you did? Was it a teleportation spell? I didn’t see you cast anything, though. What was it?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t think we should be talking about this here.”

Penelope looks around them. They’re still in the empty room, but there are probably guards outside. “You’re right. We’ll chat later. You should meet the dragon first.”

“Dragon?”

*

Great. Just great. Now he’s apparently part of some prophecy, destined to protect Simon Pendragon until he becomes king, and help him unite Watford.

He never asked for this.

And the crown prince would never accept his help, let alone be his friend and listen to his advice.

Terrific.