#bbc merlin angst

[merrilinie]

Merlin who was born blind and uses magic to see. His eyes are actually a light colour, closer to grey, but when using the magic that grants him sight they turn blue.

So, when he looses his magic both in existing plot lines and any other, he has to learn to navigate the world without sight, something he was able to avoid before.

This could be how he tells Arthur, maybe he gets some curse on him or someone uses a magic object to subdue his power and he goes blind once again and ha to tell the Knights that he can’t see without it.

[gayandfairycore]

The prince, the magician and the physician

Summary when the witchfinder accuses you of having magic you must convince Arthur that your feelings for the boy have never been disingenuous. And Merlin must race against the clock to save you but can you be saved? Can your relationship with Arthur? Can love truly conquer Arthur’s prejudice?

Italics mean flashbacks

Word count: about 8k

Warning: torture, mention of execution, feeling betrayed, readers anxious, reader accepts death, canon divergence (but same overarching plot), Arthur may be a bit ooc sorry!

A/n: who’s back with the bbc Merlin fics? Me!!!!!!! Two fics in *almost* the same month-WHO is she? But seriously I’ve been writing more and I’m so glad I have I really enjoy writing these fics for you guys and to everyone who has supported me thank you so much!! We hit 900 followers a few weeks ago and it was such a milestone thank you all for enjoying my fics enough to follow!

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The witch finders arrival had you and Merlin in shambles he had already been pointing fingers and he had been in Camelot for nearly a day and already had been accusing people of having magic.

What was worse, he had witnesses. Three girls from the lower town who had been seeing traces of magic a man coughing up a frog from his throat, to a goblin dancing in the flames of a dying fire. To faces of the drowned in the well. with every confession you sent an angry glare to Merlin beside you, since he was the reason this witch finder had been called in the first place.

Fear bubbled in your throat when the witchfinder said he already had suspects. and who the witchfinder had accused happened to be yourself, Merlin, and the lady morgana.

It was day three when he found “proof” you were a witch. (Of course you were but the proof was bogus. It wasn’t yours.)

It wasn’t Merlin’s either, it was an amulet poorly hidden in a pot. Neither yourself nor Merlin were skilled with charming jewellery, and you couldnt wear bracelets whilst being the court physicians apprentice, besides when would you even have the time to charm jewellery? Between saving Arthur, being gauis’s apprentice, and watching over Merlin you never had a second to breathe.

But despite having never seen the amulet in your life you knew the witchfinder would see no sense. Men like that never would, and what was worse the witchfinder happened to be an old friend of gauis, with a reputation based on brutality and hatred. He despised magic with a passion if he suspected you, you were already as good as dead.

But you couldn’t let Merlin die by the hands of the witchfinder, Merlin had far too much life ahead of him.

He had to protect Arthur. He had to unite Albion. he had to live long enough to see Arthur’s rule And believe me There was nothing you wanted more than to see Arthur unite Albion and bring magic to the land But you weren’t the one destined to unite Albion, you were however destined to protect those you loved and some part of you was okay with dying for the cause of keeping your family safe.

and if you were asked if you regretted taking the fall for Merlin or gauis, of course you’d say no. He was your best friend and gauis was like a grandfather to you. You’d let them sentence you to death a thousand times over if it meant Merlin was safe. If gauis was safe.

“Search through that cupboard and under the bed!” The witch finders commanding voice called out to the guards as they tore apart gauis’s chambers you were aware by now that the moment he walked in he’d already deemed you guilty.

By the way His eyes narrowed like a predator to prey, the atmosphere was tense like he’d been preparing to go for the kill for awhile now. and disgust permeated from his figure in waves this man watched you like you were the dirt on his shoe, some small disgusting insect that deserved to die if he even thought you had magic.

Sharing a nervous glance at gauis your hands wringing nervously in your lap as you watched these knights destroy your home your gaze asked gauis the same question he’d been dreading, where was Merlin’s spell book?

If you were going to go down for magic paraphernalia you fully thought it would be because of Merlin’s spell book not some poorly disguised amulet that wasn’t yours in the first place.

Leon had been the one to find the amulet a haunted look in his eyes you could tell Leon did not want to do this, but honour bounded the knights more than kinship. More than years spent with each other from childhood sparring, to treating his wounds when Leon grew from a bashful baby faced boy into a lean young man practicing to become a knight.

He was honour bound to tell this monster what he found And you’d hate to see Leon burned beside you under the guise of solidarity. It was better for one to burn than two.

“An. enchanted. amulet.” The witchfinder spoke slowly as he inspected the Jewlery, every word sealing your fate “whose is this? Perhaps the boy Merlin Or the girls? Or even yours, old friend.” The witch finder sneered pointing his finger in your face as he circled gauis and yourself like you were prey

Your horror filled eyes flickered to gauis and you watched as his mouth opened and his eyes flashed with familiar selflessness it was clear, what the old man was going to do, he loved his little family as much as you did and you’d hate to see the old man take the blame for you or Merlin again.

living with gauis has already been enough of a burden you couldn’t let him die for something he had no part in (not that you did either but you were nothing if not loyal.) your heart constricted in your chest, your stomach dropping

One of you would surely be executed for this but you would not let it be Merlin, or gauis. It would be you before it ever was them.

Taking a shaky breath you stepped forward your hand out to block gauis front from stopping you “it’s mine.”

And the beat of your heart deafened you the room went deadly silent guards hands went to their swords ready for anything, in the corner of your eye gauis’s face went ghostly pale filled with horror as he watched his youngest apprentice, the girl he practically raised as if his own stare down this false god with cold eyes the sent fear shooting through gauis, you were capable you like Merlin had the ability to destroy your enemies without lifting a finger but gauis knew you better than for you to defend yourself. But you would be brave braver than anyone else.

You steeled yourself infront of the witchfinder your eyes narrowed dangerously. You did not take kindly to those attempting to ruin your family.

“Guards.” With one word the witch finder sealed your fate, looking to gauis behind you, your eyes only let your guard slip for a moment and the old man saw the burning fear that filled your gaze. As Leon’s hands restrained you with hesitation.

“you can’t!” Gauis called pointedly to the witchfinder “it’s not hers! she doesn’t know what she’s saying.” Gauis pleaded desperately after you seething from where he stood, he would not watch another child die.

you felt your heart break for the man who was like your father. “Leon, please.” You pleaded to Leon to release your hands for just a moment and the man you’ve known since childhood released his grip for only a second it was enough for you to break his hold and sprint to take gauis in a hug

Crashing into his arms you closed your eyes blinking away tears And you muttered the one phrase that could save you, that could reverse this fatal mistake, the one thing that stopped the panic in gauis for only a moment “It’s not mine.”

Before Leon’s hands had pulled you from gauis’s comforting arms, your tearful eyes met gauis and you expected to be met with fear but a newfound determination in gauis’s face calmed you, hope filled your heart Merlin would find a way to save you he always did.

Leon bent your hands behind your back and lead you down the halls of the castle

The witchfinder leading you through the halls, your Druid communication had been the most useful in situations like this, situations where Merlin was nowhere to be found

“Merlin, if you can hear this please find a way to get me out of this. The witchfinder has accused us of using magic be careful. Help me Merlin, Please find Arthur.” You didn’t get a response despite the fact You had never begged and you never had sounded quite as hopeless as you did then, even when you were behind enemy lines, in enemy dungeons it was different.

They weren’t your friends, weren’t your family sentencing you to die this was.

As you were dragged through the halls Camelot knights walked all around you, their billowing red capes with the golden dragon crest that once brought you so much comfort now brought only dread, the burning memory being wrapped up in Arthur’s cape on a hunting trip once dearly reminisced now just felt cruel.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The braying of horses and the taps of hooves on the ground as you, the knights, Arthur and Merlin set off on a hunt you found it silly to be hunting for game for fun but you couldn’t refuse the invite considering you were arthurs personal physician recommended by gauis (and Merlin babysitter) and atleast you were with your closest friends who are the loyalist of loyal.

As opposed to being stuck in gauis’s chambers mulling over books like you do almost daily you’d take any possible time with Arthur especially away from prying eyes.

The sun was starting to go down and you were too far away from Camelot to head home so Arthur called it and you’d be camping in the woods tonight, you didn’t mind. It was nice to camp under the stars with your friends away from all the expectations, The watchful eyes. Camelot was home but it was growing increasingly more dangerous.

Here, in the forest with Arthur and Merlin and the knights you were more than just a physician you were equal. You were more then just lower class, you were free and here under the constant cover of trees and the darkening blanket of the setting sun you could be more than some backup physician, you were just y/n. And Prince Arthur was just Arthur.

And if you could have just cupped this moment in your hands and held it tightly to your chest you would have.

Camped by a large oak tree in Arthur’s arms his red cape with the golden pendragon sigil covered your body from the elements keeping you safe and warm and in the light of the fire there was no fear, no worry about expectations. Or watching eyes all that mattered was being truly yourself with the man you love in his arms unashamed.

When sleep finally stole you away from Arthur Merlin couldn’t stop the question that was brewing for months “do you love her?” The young man asked scouring the ground with a stick his arms rested on his knees as he watched the couple together Merlin knew this would turn out badly his best friend, a physician with no title dating the crowned prince of Camelot? A recipe for disaster

He knew what his destiny foretold, he knew the perils and he knew that your role in destiny would surely not let this freedom, this unabashed love stay happy. There could be no room for happiness when you had magic.

“Of course I love her.” The prince found himself telling Merlin hesitation in his voice fear rolling from him in waves, by now it was the late hours of the night, the knights and yourself long since asleep and Merlin and Arthur the only ones still awake

“You know your father would never approve?” Merlin spoke assured that if uther found out you’d most likely be executed

“I know that Merlin, but one day it will be different my father will have no say and I will be king when I am king I want her- to be my queen.” Arthur’s fingers run through your hair softly a promise Arthur swore to himself he would keep his arms wrapping tightly around your waist the soft sound of your breathing calming Arthur’s pounding heart he knew this was reckless and senseless but this was love. And love has no logic.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Now a bitter taste of betrayal sat heavily on your shoulders as you were flanked by those you call friends as they lead you to your death you couldn’t blame them it’s not their fault they have to follow uther but it leaves a horrible taste in your mouth

How things had changed.

It was sad to feel Leon’s grip firm but not brutish still trying not to hurt you as if he wasn’t leading you to what would be your death. You were aware from the moment Arthur managed to steal your heart you’d end up on the gallows or burnt at the stake or you’d face death in battle intentionally scheduled by uther. He hated anyone who was not of noble blood for Arthur.

And No good ever came from destiny, and if it was your destiny to die in place of your loved ones you’d die a valiant death. But it didn’t stop the shake in your hands.

You could mask your fear you would not give the witchfinder what he wants. He would not break you.

But leon could feel the shake in your hand and feel the erratic beat of your heart from the pulse point on your wrist and he wanted nothing more than to damn the consequences and save you but he couldn’t. you could only rely on Merlin to prove the witchfinder a fraud and you to be innocent you could only pray for Arthur’s forgiveness. After your innocence is proven.

But the horrible feeling of dread that was building in your stomach as they were leading you into the dungeons a cell- no doubt already made up- And down every step you felt like throwing up when you finally made it to the bottom of the stair case the scent of wet earth and straw filled your nose the bricks that lined the dungeon and its torches that burned steadily along the side of the stairs made you feel ill.

The witch finder swung open the first vacant cell and Leon was forced to keep you there walking you the the center of the room, the suns rays that slipped through the cracks of the small window warmed your face but it didn’t comfort you, soon the sun would be your clock, your tally mark for your final night alive if Merlin failed.

Leon’s hands left yours and still the ache in your shoulders stayed “I’m sorry” he spoke lowly in your ear before he stepped away you turned to finally face your friend

“Leon, let Arthur know I’m sorry” You called to the man who grew up beside you who had been growing up pledging to die for Camelot even if that meant dying young he never expected the young girl with so much light in her eyes, and gentleness that always managed to calm her patients, he never thought she’d be the one on deaths door before him.

Before the man could reply the witch finger slammed the cell door shut and sneered through the bars “not to worry he’ll find out soon enough.”

Your heart constricted in your chest as you watched them all walk away the iron in the Camelot dungeons nullifying your powers and your connection with Merlin you couldn’t hear his reply to your plea you were well and truly alone you could of course break out from the cells the iron didn’t make you powerless only dulling your connection with the earth, the place your power comes from. But you couldn’t put your friends at risk.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

It was hours later when guards came to haul you away to your sentencing, heavy iron handcuffs clicked into place over your hands large chains weighing you down & tight enough to make the skin on your wrists rub painfully.

As Guards lead you through the castle to the throne room, there you stood at the large mahogany double doors two guards on either side as they flung the doors open all your friends and family, all your previous patients were standing there watching as the witchfinder lead you in as the number one suspect, the guilty witch. two guards gripped your arms and threw you to the ground in front of the king, a man who you’ve spent countless hours mending, and stitching up alongside gauis.

Your hands shook as your knees took the brunt of the force, your chains rattling from where you were you couldn’t see Merlin, or gauis. But You could feel Merlin’s energy over the crowd

“I’m going to get you out of this y/n, I swear.” Merlin promises to you through your Druid telepathy and you bit back the tears as You scowled at the sight of the ground. you couldn’t bare look up at the sight of morgana in front of you, of Arthur infront of you fear that you’ll see nothing but disgust, embarrassment and regret on his face.

“Here is the first witch I’ve uncovered in my short time here in Camelot. The court physicians apprentice. The princes! Physician!” Every word the witch finder spoke booms over the crowd as he exclaims to the counsel shock no doubt painted their faces you’ve treated every single person in this room and you’ve used magic on quite a few to save them. Why was that a bad thing? If you have the power to save someone was that not the right thing to do? Magic is not bad but people are.

“WHO can imagine what she could have used on the prince unsupervised! What magic she could have used and at what cost to the prince!” By the gasps of those standing around the room the witchfinders words seemed to make them angry, seemed to make the king angry he loved Arthur in his own way so for the witchfinder to use Arthur to sentence you, god. You were surely going to die.

“No.” Arthur’s words were quiet this was the first time he had said anything “y/n a witch? I mean come on we’d know! She’s lived in Camelot since she was five. And she wouldn’t harm a fly!” Arthur called like it was laughable resting his hand on his hip like it was obvious but by the look in his eye the look of realisation but you couldn’t find disgust you didn’t have time to search for it.

But It made you turn your gaze to the floor Arthur knows. he knows. you have magic. You’ve healed him countless times. no stab wound, or arrow wound could be healed as quickly as his has or all the time he’s been injured in battle only moments before, before the searing pain has been replaced with a dull ache. Or the times as a child where any scrape or scuffed knee had been eased by a soft kiss over the wound. The look of betrayal passing over his face when you gained the courage to finally look at him made you shrink into yourself

“That’s exactly what someone under her spell would say. I fear, uther that the prince is too close to her to see clearly.” The witchfinder spoke with a voice like acid and you couldn’t stand making yourself small if he was going to do you for magic you would not be ashamed. You would not hide from his gaze.

Your chained hands pushed you from your slumped position on the ground your hair messily falling over your face you stood on shaky legs looking at the people in the throne room, all your friends watching you with pity filled faces you couldn’t stand it.

It made you feel sick, especially the fearful teary eyed look from morgana like she was seeing her future you hated this.

Uthers response felt like it took years, “y/n l/n I sentence you to death.” The room fell eerily silent before a scream filled your head, it was Merlin you whirled around to spot him in the crowd tears in his eyes and anger flashing across his face you wouldn’t be surprised if the next attempt on uthers life would be from Merlin.

“No! Father you can’t. What evidence do you have?!” Arthur pleaded with his father quietly by his throne anger glaring in arthurs eyes pointed not at you, it gave you hope that he didn’t hate you enough to want you dead.

“My word is final.” The king sneered and your hope filled heart broke. Swallowing hard your eyes searched for Merlin the fear in your eyes hit him hard as he watched

you be carted out of the court room your eyes locking with Merlin’s anger and tears filled his eyes before your eyes swept to Arthur’s & the sheen of betrayal sat heavy in his eyes and before you could stop yourself you called out for him one last time. As the guards dragged you to the doors.

“Arthur!”

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The cells in camelots dungeons were always your most hated place to be from the horrid stench to the chill that cooled your bones to the straw that littered the floor In wet mangled clumps. To the extent it weakened your connection to your magic. Your magic was your strength the very essence of you to have it be weakened by the iron felt wrong.

The dungeons were perhaps the scariest place in Camelot there you’d sit, forced to rot as they’re building a funeral pyre for you and your execution is due in a day.

But you’d been there for now two days, and Day by day you were becoming more and more sure that this was the one situation Merlin could not save you from.

by the betrayed look on Arthur’s face when you were lead through the large doors infront of the entire court for your sentencing and the cold look in uthers eyes you were a dead woman walking.

And maybe you deserved it by the look on Arthur’s face as the pieces fell into place and he realised all the times his wounds eased that were not with the help of adrenaline, but magic. it made you wonder did he believe you had enchanted him? Bewitched him to love you? It pained you greatly to even think that Arthur may be in his chambers rethinking every kiss you’ve shared with one another. Would your love ever truly be enough for him to forgive you for magic? Of course he didn’t like magic that was to be expected but he liked you. At least you thought he liked you…

And He liked Merlin, he’d shown countless times indifference to magic, magic that had saved his life countless times, and still the look of betrayal in his eyes made you wonder Were all your secret picnics and stolen kisses in corridors just something to occupy him?

Were you nothing more than Arthur’s dirty little secret, a silly little romance that would have only ended in tragedy?

was it all for nothing?

Were you nothing to him?

No you were not nothing. You were everything you were his in private. the only place he didn’t have to perform. He didn’t have to agree with his father’s actions he could just be Arthur pendragon not the prince.

besides It’s better to have loved Arthur and to die for it than to have never had him at all. You may never be his queen but you were for a fleeting moment, for a fleeting moment you were his and he was yours.

And now you would burn because you loved your family too much to watch them die, you half wondered as you sat in that cell if uther knew.

If he had known you and Arthur were courting in secret and if he called the witchfinder to get rid of more than one the little scandal waiting to happen and you wouldn’t put it past uther to condemn you to death so long as Arthur is still under his control.

The longer you sat in your cell the more you stewed, a slue of emotions crashing over you, from sadness to anger, to acceptance.

You would accept the fate of burning for your loved ones but you would not accept the fate of losing Arthur. Not like this.

You would not be separated by death, if Arthur didn’t want you after knowing the truth you would live with it, but you would not live with not knowing.

Your love for the boy had been too strong you were going to marry Arthur in the future, it wasn’t to far away having a family with the prince, having a life.

That could have been your future. If you were not awaiting execution.

You sat there in drenching sadness that crashed like waves, what was worse was the sound of key’s jiggling. Did you misjudge the days? Was this going to be the end? already?

“You and me are going to have a little talk.” The witch finder sneered unlocking your cell and looking down at you with hatred still you didn’t gaze in his eyes. You watched the floor with intensity as he hauled you off to a different cell leading you through the halls past the staircase you caught sight of a shaky morgana your eyes found hers and suddenly you felt a lot more scared than before.

In the cell there was a chair and a table and a small cart of various medical and surgical weapons ‘oh shit’ your mind screamed as the witch finder forced you to the chair “So we can do this two ways. It’s up to you confess why you’re in Camelot and who else has magic. and maybe I’ll let you live. Don’t tell me and I’ll find out myself.” The cruelty in his tone made you rear back subconsciously eyes narrowing at the witchfinders gaze

“Then” you sighed shakily looking at him through your lashes coldly“you’re going to have to find out yourself.” You summoned every inch of anger and willed it in your tone. Trying to be brave despite the frantic beats of your heart.

But It was hours spent in that damp Camelot cell hidden from the other prisoners clamped to a chair and the witch finder inches from your face and array of striking weapons on a small cart made your breathing hitch.

But you’ve had worse, you’ve had to fight wilderin in hengists kingdom for sport. Both yourself and Gwen had been kidnapped under the guise of being morgana and her physician and so yourself and Gwen were forced to masquerade as morgana and yourself and you were stuck in different cells both damp and smelling of blood and wet earth.

And then there was Lancelot who happened to be hengists champion, and a champion who only days later you’d be thrown into the pit with a wilderin with no weapons with a tied up Gwen and Lancelot. Both yourself and Lancelot had stayed behind to give Gwen time to escape and ultimately were the first to be thrown in the cage again you didn’t mind as long as Gwen escaped you’d be fine.

But Truth be told the odds were very against you, but magic was always going to save you, but using it would doom you especially in front of everyone in hengists court. With the use of magic and a bloodied broken bone from the wilderins last meal made for a convenient way to murder the beast. Until another one came and Merlin and Arthur had saved you just in time From its hideous rat jaws the huge bleeding scar of its teeth in your arm made you detest the stench of blood and earth.

That was probably the worst experience of your life until now. And the scar from the wilderins teeth was still healing but the physical scars meant nothing the torture of being in a cell that smells the same as this dungeon was the worst that and the feeling of knowing your life is going to end were probably the most humbling experiences.

But, the only saving grace was that night in camp where Arthur had taken it upon himself to patch up your wilderin wound (poorly might you add as a physician it was odd to let the only man with very little experience patching someone up, patch you up.)

But you let him anyway and Arthur’s hands held your arm with feather light touches the needle threaded through your flesh with clumsy fingers the stiching off centre and rough around the edges but it was Arthur’s way of telling you he cared, the silk thread slid easily through your flesh but it pained you every stitch Arthur was no physician but he was trying.

“I’m glad you’re okay. And Gwen told me when they questioned you about any secrets of Camelot you never cracked.”

“never Camelot is my home.” You smiled at the prince but your attempt at reassurance failed miserably and he ducked his head

“I wish you, cracked. Then they wouldn’t have given you that.” Arthur pointed to the growing black eye rapidly swelling over your left eye a bruise you got for refusing to rat out any information on when guards were on duty, the way to the Camelot armory or anything you overheard as a physician from any loose lipped clients.

“I am not weak Arthur. I can deal with a black eye and brutish men. I’ve been sparring with you and the knights for years” Your eyes pointed angrily at the boy crossing your arms over your chest despite the half finished stitching feeling the half sewn wound twist painful as you did so but you hid the pain to appear strong something you’ve done since you were young

“I never said that! But you- you aren’t weak. I can’t stand seeing you in pain.” Arthur’s blue eyes bore into yours with such an intensity his eyes flashing from your lips to your eyes his hand cupping your jaw as he pressed his lips softly against yours shock prevented you from kissing back as the blonde went to pull away you chased his lips kissing him back with feverish passion.

“I love you Arthur.” You rested your head against his the exhaustion of the day catching up to you he didn’t say it back but you didn’t care he just had to know.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The memory of Arthur made you feel loved it kept you strong, hit after hit, once against your ribs twice against your face, four times against your legs and once more against your face with enough force to split your lip licking the blood that dripped from your lip your bruised body heaved in pain and still you never cracked.

“Come on miss l/n, just tell me two little names and all this can stop”

“You’re deluded.” You sneered before spitting a wad of blood into the witchfinders face smiling gleefully when your blood tinged spit stained his face but the glee was short lived when the man had sent a quick hit to your chest stealing the air from your lungs.

Before he grabbed a tool with a screw and roughly pulled your thumb into it “you will tell me miss y/n what your intentions are with the prince and with Camelot or I will force it out of you.”

The witchfinder shredded his coat as he leaned over you tightening the screw into your thumb the pressure of the screw against your finger had you squirming in your seat as he tightened the contraption more and more

“All you need to do is confess your accomplices. And this will stop.” His voice echoed the room but the feeling of a sharp screw drilling into your finger tighter and tighter puncturing the nail and skin the pain otherworldly and unbearable you tried to hold your scream back but when the man still did not relent and instead tightened the thumb screw you let out your blood curdling scream.

“WHO! Are! Your! Accomplices!” His voice yelled now as he tightened more and more gut wrenching screams ripped from your throat you would let yourself scream, let yourself cry but you would not tell him a thing.

The crushing feeling of your thumb bones breaking made your heart beat incredibly fast your other ironed hand gripped the table with force your nails digging into the wood

He still tightened the screw and by the loud haunting screams that ripped from you and the smile on the witchfinders face he enjoyed your pain you couldn’t help the salty tears and horrible screams the pain unbearable and overcoming your sense but still your mouth locked on any information like a vault.

“Come on!” His voice boomed as his hands squeezed your bicep his eyes crazed as he watched you

“Fuck you!” You screamed eyes red with tears and fighting the approaching darkness in the corner of your vision

“Aredian, sir. The king has called a meeting and requires your presence.” The servant at the cell door had spoken quietly to the witchfinder nervous in his presence

The witchfinder sighed straightening his posture rolled his eyes and moved close to your ear “no matter, miss l/n. The lady morgana, and Merlin will burn with you soon”

Your heart dropped and you struggled against the restraints the excruciating pain from your finger and the rest of your beaten body the pain in your ribs alluded you to the potential broken bones it caused your panicked shouts to echoed through the dungeon and the witchfinders laugh filled the room

“No! Aredian stop.” You cried to his retreating figure “I’ll confess to the use of sorcery if. And only if, you spare Merlin and morgana.” Your eyes close in defeat

“Good choice, miss y/n. take her to her cell.”

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

And there you were again cut off from anyone and anything unsure if Merlin would be able to prove you innocent, or if he’d burn with you, or if Arthur still even cared the woman he was courting was about to be executed and had just withstood torture. Hengist was bad but he never had broken your bones or tortured you only tried to feed you to wilderin.

The pain in your thumb had dulled but the bleeding hole had still gushed the measly bandage that consider of your dress did barely anything to stop the bleeding and the iron cells mixed with the torture made your magic virtually ineffective making you unable to fully heal your wounds only dulling the pain of your thumb.

your time was running out and you were truly alone in the cells your connection to Merlin via your druid telepathy was proving useless he wouldn’t respond you couldn’t warn him of the witch finder and by the shine of the moon in your cell you only had hours left.

There is already a funeral pyre with your name on it in the court yard. You couldn’t help the tears that slipped down your cheeks you didn’t want to die not like this and a prison break wasn’t even on your mind they’d just kill Merlin and gaius in your absence there was no way out. and the crushing guilt of something you cannot change began to pound against your skull. Were you born wrong?

Was it wrong to have this magic? This power that has saved those you’ve loved for years why was it seen as inherently evil? Why were you seen as inherently evil? All you wanted was your friends to be safe.

And between the pain that debilitated you from the physical blows to the broken bones in your thumb and the emotional pain of Arthur most likely hating you made you want to just give up.

You pulled your knees to your chest as you cried the stupid scent of blood, earth, and straw polluted your nose. And you found yourself thinking about how lucky Gwen had been to have Lancelot visit her cell in hengists kingdom determined to break her and by extension yourself out.

You had Merlin in your court but you still wished you had someone to hold your hand through the vent even if it was the last thing you’d ever do you didn’t want to die alone.

“Y/n” you heard whispered from the doors of your cell “Arthur?” You called confusion lacing your voice as your red rimmed eyes met Arthur’s and you couldn’t help but run to the cell door resting your head on the bars sobbing in relief at the sight of him the pain from your body put on the back burner for a moment.

“What happened?” Guilt filled Arthur’s heart at the sight of you, your eye healing from your previous beating and now the sight of your bloodied broken thumb and bruised body Arthur saw red.

He felt betrayed at the revelation of your magic of course but he understood why you had kept it a secret and if Arthur had been paying more attention he would have seen it plain as day when you were kids.

Your magic was obvious since childhood Arthur was too blind to see it.

“I know” was all he said eyes stoney and voice unwavering “I know you have magic the witch finder is right.”

Any hope that bubbles in your chest died with his words “Arthur I- i can explain” You tried shaking your head lacing your uninjured hand in his through the cell pleased when he didn’t pull away

“Shhh Merlin told me everything, everything you’ve ever done to save me. Save everyone. I understand why you did what you did.” Arthur spoke lowly his eyes staring into yours trying to convey his apology

“Merlin has come up with a plan to save you, he’s doing it right now but I couldn’t go another day without telling you I’m sorry you had to keep this a secret. I can’t stay for long but- but y/n I love you.” Arthur spoke with all the love he could muster placing a chaste kiss on your lips through the cell

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before I was afraid of my father I am supposed to be king one day to marry someone of noble blood, but I don’t want that. I want you.” Arthur’s voice is quiet as he confesses he wants to spend the rest of your lives together

“I want nothing more.” You felt like crying he still wanted you, magic and all.

“Arthur, I was so scared.” You felt so exhausted from the torture to the ticking clock you couldn’t help but cry

“Shh” Arthur’s fingers ghosted over the skin of your cheeks wiping your tears. “We will prove your innocence, I’ll keep your secret. I promise you.”

Arthur placed a kiss on your lips once more pressing a necklace with his ring into your hand before promising Merlin has everything under control.

With your heart a bit lighter you finally sat down on the hard cell bed clutching Arthur’s ring in your hand you let sleep overtake your body trusting that Merlin will save you.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

When the bright light of the sun shines through your cell window today is the day you are supposed to die, and part of your questioned if you dreamt Arthur’s presence to save your sanity but by the slight pressure of his ring on a chain in your hand reassured your beating heart.

You were not dreaming, Arthur loves you and Merlin just spent last night trying to save you but there’s still a ticking time bomb of the noon execution and by the switch shift of the guards it was almost 12

Time was ticking and still there was no sign of Merlin you felt sick like your heart was going to fall out of your stomach

You prayed to whatever god or deity was out there that you would not burn today but by the size of the growing crowd outside the cell window your prayers would go unanswered there was nothing you could do but just sit there in anxiety

The rattling of keys and heavy sound of chainmail made you accept the fact that Merlin would be too late to save you and Arthur would watch you burn

When the knight reached your cell his keys turned the lock and he walked towards you slowly your eyes met the floor the pain in your thumb still debilitating but you held Arthur’s ring in your hands tightly if you were to burn your burn knowing you were loved.

To your surprise when the knight takes you by the wrist silver key in hand as he unlocks your handcuffs

Confusion takes over your face as you watch the knight with intensity “what?” You can’t help but ask rubbing your now freed wrist nervous when he takes your injured hand but this knight grips your hand with gentleness that’s beyond you

“You’re free to go miss” the knight smiles he looked to be a newer knight of Camelot one you didn’t grow up with but he is kind

“Thank you” you nod to the knight as you stumble from your cell gauis is standing at the end of the hallway white as a ghost but pleased to see you freed from your cell

“Y/n!” Gauis smiles opening his arms and you can’t help but fall into them holding onto gauis tightly your sobs wet his shirt shoulder

“Gauis how did you do it? How did you prove me to be innocent?” You cry your hands shaking and body weak from days spent eating little food and dealing with aredians torture.

“It was all Merlin and Arthur.” The old man smiles his arms supporting you as you walk up the stairs from the dungeons to your chambers

“Tell me everything.”you smile at the old man walking side by side down the corridor gauis’s laugh fills the empty hallway

“Not here, let’s get your wounds treated.” His eyes glance at the bruises littering your body, and the bloodied thumb

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

You had never been so happy to see your chambers in your life, the comforting smell of herbs and bread the familiar scent of old books and the sound of your boots against the stone floor sounded like music to your ears

There’s no scent of wet earth, or blood aside from the metallic smell emanating from your finger you could almost forget the pain of the cells now that you’re back.

But there’s still very obviously signs of damage done by the witch finders raid broken pots, damaged shelves potions and poisons leaving residue on the floor

But still it is your home. gauis filled a pitcher of water and fills a cup for you and once the water passes your lips you come to realise just how parched you were gulping down glass after glass

gauis busied himself with fixing his work station pulling ointment after ointment and an array of bandages from his kit.

“Sit please” gauis pointed to the table and you sat yourself on the wooden bench gauis had begun to take your makeshift bandage from your wound the gaping hole in your thumb and the blood that spurted from your wound made gauis’s breathing hitch

As he gentle distributed ointment over the wound to fight off growing infections and bandaging up the wound with a fresh bandage Merlin would work on reconstructing your thumb when he gets back

Gauis had felt over your ribs and when he had found another break Merlin would be healing that too for now gauis would sit beside you on the dining room table fresh food would be laid out gauis knew what it was like in the Camelot dungeons and the lack of food

So he didn’t comment on how much you ate when approaching footsteps made your heart beat faster and your eyes flicker to gauis his hand rested on top of yours to reassure you, gauis and Merlin would always reassure you you were safe here you weren’t trapped in the cells of your own home.

When Merlin’s figure found himself in the doorway you could see the relief on his face that you were okay aside from the bruises and bandaged thumb you were alive.

“Oh y/n” Merlin’s soft voice cried and before you knew it you were pushing up off of the table and running into Merlin’s arms

“Hi Merlin” you held him tightly you owed Merlin your life and so being in his hold meant being safe, he would never hurt you.

“God I’m so glad you’re back” his hold tightened and he could feel your magic strong and your connection to eachother he wasn’t cut off from you anymore

“I’m so sorry it took me so long.” Merlin’s guilt ate him alive as he pulled away the black eye and split lip made him see red if he didn’t already kill aredian by accident he would have and he would have made him go through what you did.

Merlin’s eyes flashed yellow and the unbearable ache in your thumb and pulsing pain all over ebbed into nothingness.

You could feel your bones reassembling in your thumb and your broken rib fuse back together the pain and bruises once a bright purple colour would dissipate into a light blue and then would turn into the colour of your skin again.

“Thank you, Merlin.” You squeezed his hand tightly he nodded his head and held you tightly in his arms

Before a smile broke out on his face “do you want to hear how I proved aredian to be a fraud?” Merlin helped you sit beside him and poured another glass of water for you

“Of course!”

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

After Merlin had recounted the entire night from convincing Arthur of everything, that despite your magic you loved him with no enchantment and even if you had enchanted him Merlin asked Arthur point blank if what he told him that day you were cuddled in Arthur’s arms if it was still true, if he still loved you.

Arthur told Merlin he would always love you but he couldn’t trust you now with magic Merlin felt like slapping the prince.

How could you trust Arthur? He’s the prince of Camelot. A kingdom that tried to burn a woman at the stake the first day he arrived and you had grown up here watching that and still you treated its citizens and royalty with no malice?

Merlin understood why you couldn’t trust Arthur he can’t. Not because Arthur was a bad friend but he’s the prince.

No one can help how they are born, but you can put yourself in their shoes and Merlin spent hours convincing Arthur and then more hours enchanting aredian.

From the tincture of belladonna, to the bracelet, to even the frog from aredians throat! Merlin would not fail.

You loved Merlin a lot no one would go as far as he did to save you and you only knew him for a year and a half.

When three knocks sounded on the door Merlin had tried to hide his smile as gauis opened the door to Arthur, in a white shirt freshly showered hair and a Bouquet of wildflowers you felt your heart melt at his kindness

His blue eyes were filled with worry and fear his gaze flicking to gauis and Merlin before he lowered his voice “how are you?”

“Much better now I’m out of that god forsaken cell.” You felt your throat close up at the mention of the cell you spent so long in

Arthur felt guilty about his actions about not saving you or stopping his father. He tried but he could have tried harder

You could see Arthur was drowning in his guilt placing your hand on his shoulder you lead him past gauis and Merlin to your room and sat on your small bed

“You tried your hardest Arthur, it’s not your fault I was thrown in the dungeons.”

“I should have stopped them y/n. I should have broken you out I should have done anything!” Arthur blinked through tears

His hand holding yours in your lap, “Arthur I love you with my whole heart I do not blame you, so please do not blame yourself.”

“I love you and I promise I will spend the rest of my life proving to you how much I love you.” Arthur confessed his eyes full of sincere love

You couldn’t help yourself but to kiss him your lips meshing against one another’s felt like home, it felt like love and warmth and like an apology all in one.

It wasn’t until your lungs burnt for air did you pull back. “I should go I don’t want anyone to become suspicious, I’ll see you tomorrow?” Arthur asked tentatively a part of him afraid of rejection.

“Of course” you placed another kiss on his lip before pulling open your chamber door to reveal Merlin and gauis on the other side ears pressed against the wood looking guilty.

“Merlin…gauis what do you think you’re doing?” You chastise at the pair you expected this of Merlin but of gauis? That was surprising

“Gauis i expected better of you” Arthur laughed from where he stood wrapping an arm around your shoulder

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

In The Next Life, My Love

A quick little bitter drabble that I didn’t have time to develop fully but needed to write.

TW: The ending is not open. Everyone’s dead yo. Angst.

It’s dark and cold, where they are, The King and his servant, and the end is coming. They know it’s coming, no point denying it, or fighting it; they’ve been locked up for so long that their wrists, once strong and thick and soft, rattle in their chains. The mould is getting to them, making their heads ache and their skin crawl, but they have each other, and in the darkness they each have a light in the form of the other’s exponentially bony fingers intertwined with their own:

“Merlin,-”

The King coughs, and this one word—this name that now means everything to him, and perhaps always had—quiet and rasping and so very very pained, saps almost all his remaining energy. His companion comforts him the only way he can, a cold, damp-wrinkled thumb scraping the back of his hand, and waits patiently until The King’s chest calms enough to allow him to continue:

“-in the next life,-”

Merlin interrupts him, his voice more quiet, more rasping, more pained, but far, far more determined:

“I’ll serve you. Always, Arthur.”

“No.-”

His dismissal, his order, is the loudest noise either of them have heard in days, and Merlin flinches, moaning quietly as the pounding in his head, which he had managed to forget about, magnifies significantly:

“-no, Merlin, no.-”

Arthur’s continuation is so quiet, so soft, Merlin has to think for a few seconds before he can process what he’s said:

“-In the next life, Merlin, I... I...-”

He sighs, or sighs as well as he can when every breath he takes in is as shallow as a puddle on cobblestones and painful as a knife to the chest; his eyes close, though he couldn’t really tell they were open before, his vision having become so blurred he couldn’t tell his thinning legs from the rotten floor. There’s a long pause, and the only evidence Merlin has that his King hasn’t passed on between one word and the next is the rattling breaths he hears from beside him. 

Breathing is what he focuses on, what he holds on to. It had been a cacophony before; an orchestra of inhalations and exhalations had surrounded them, before the candles they’d been left with had burned to nothing and the others had stopped breathing, one by one.

Merlin has always known his King well, so when he stops speaking—stutters, stutters, stops—he doesn’t worry, Merlin knows Arthur is just searching for the right words. Always, always searching for the right words, and never quite finding them. Always searching, always being too afraid of settling for something subpar, so never saying anything at all. Every time it happens, it breaks his heart a little, but every time Arthur tries again... it mends him.

He lets him think.

Think.

Think.

Think.

Another stroke along the back of his hand prompts Arthur to continue. He’s not sure he’s found the right words, but he thinks they’ll have to do:

“-In the next life, Merlin, you will not serve me for a second. Not for a second. In the next life, I’ll find you, you won’t have to find me, I’ll find you, and I’ll tell you that I... that I love you, and we’ll spend our lives together again, but... but better. I promise, Merlin, next time it will be better.”

His voice cracks and crumbles and falls apart as he whispers his secrets to the darkness. He wonders, for a moment, if Merlin were really alive. If perhaps he’d died days ago like the others and he was just imagining the squeezes, the strokes. The hand he’s holding is cold enough and stiff enough to be from a corpse. He thinks maybe the breathing and coughing were just echoes of his own, that maybe he is alone in the depths of the earth. The silence—other than the rasping rasping rasping breaths so similar to his own—stretches long enough that Arthur is halfway further to being mad when Merlin finally, really, replies:

“Ok. I... Ok. Just... promise me one thing?-”

Arthur hums, and the choking noise is something terrible, but it gets the point across, and he figures the clicking sound coming from his right is Merlin twisting his head, so he can at least pretend that they’re able to look at each other; Arthur follows his lead, and he likes to think that, when he opens his tired, dry eyes, and squints through the pitch blackness, that he can see something blue peering back at him:

“-Have better timing, next time?”

Arthur can hear the smirk in his voice, and he thinks, if he’d had enough energy, he could cry and wail and scream at the prospect of the next life not being promised, and even if it where, their meeting in it not being guaranteed. He can’t conceive of a world, or an unworld, whatever comes after he stops hurting so much, in which he doesn’t have Merlin’s smirk. As it is, the only reaction his starving mind can manage is a single, small tear slipping down his cheek as he tactically twitches his pinkie finger in Merlin’s grip, and mumbles back:

“Promise.”

The silence descends once more, and when Merlin speaks, or, more accurately, when Merlin forces his last breath to take the form of words, he realises, in his last spark of thought as his tongue collapses over the very last syllable, that his last remaining companion may not have remained long enough to hear him:

“I love you too, Arthur.”

~

The End.

AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH.

Anyway.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

Hope you enjoyed😅

[aayo-whatt]

Fandom? Merlin Pairing? (pre relationship)Merthur Summary? Modern!AU Merlin and Arthur go to a party. Lots of (one-sided) pining and angst. Warnings? angst, mentions of alcohol, allusions to drugs/being unknowingly drugged Word Count? 1k Notes? i'm sorry ok?? my music was too vibey, and got me in my feels it was very much my fault- thanks @archangelsammy for choosing the fandom + characters :)))

The party is too loud. But he wants to be there.

Oh fuck, no he doesn't. He's only there for Arthur. Arthur, his best friend, who was straight, completely straight - who's never even questioned whether or not he liked males. Who is, quite literally, the straightest a man could get.

And yet...

Fuck, it's loud in here.

God. The only reason Merlin even considered coming here was for Arthur, and he's not even with Merlin! He's off doing cool bro-things, with his macho bro-friends.

No wonder he'd never even looked at Merlin like anything other than a little brother. But Merlin wanted to be more, he wanted so much fucking more from Arthur.

Why the actual fuck is it so loud here?

The music is barely even music. At this point it's just a fucking drumbeat. Pounding, pounding, pounding against the inside of Merlin's skull, trying to get out, but it can't. And Merlin can't escape either.

And the people 'dancing' don't help either. Don't all they know to leave the grinding and gyrating to the bedroom? God. They're acting like they're coated in aphrodisiacs. it doesn't even matter who they're with, as long as it's pleasurable.

Shit, he was going to throw up. How weak was his stomach? He'd only had a glass of water! Of course Arthur merely put up with Merlin, the weak idiot he was.

~

The quiet seems too quiet. He can still hear the beat through the thin thin walls of the house, but it's too quiet.

He'd somehow managed to get out of the house, pushing and shoving his way through the walls of flesh, that the party-goers turned into.

He still felt like he needed to throw up, even though he'd just emptied his guts on to the front lawn of the stupid frat house. A puddle of vomit, he very nearly landed in, thanks to his piss shit coordination.

But hey, at least the grass is cool underneath his face. The stars barely noticeable, despite the hour, thanks to the masses of street lamps that covered the college campus.

"Merlin?"

Oh gods, he was going to throw up again. But he couldn't, not when that voice was getting closer with every fucking millisecond.

He's pulled up by the back of his shirt into an upright position. His head spins, as the face of a stupidly handsome man swims into his vision.

Shit. Maybe he did drink something else.

"Wow! I didn't think you'd be so... reckless."

"I'm not." He said, or at least he tried to say - it just comes out a garbled mess.

Arthur chuckles, dragging Merlin to his feet, "Let's go, buddy."

Buddy. Fuck, that's all he was ever going to be wasn't it?

~

Arthur had had to carry him up the stairs. He was trying not to laugh the entire time. But Merlin, could feel the barely contained vibrations through his chest.

Merlin hated every second of it. Merlin loved every second of it. It was the most embarrassing moment of his life. It was the closest he'd ever physically been with Arthur. He would never forget it. He would never forget it.

What made it worse was that he couldn't even hold his head up to make sure it didn't fall in the fucking toilet bowl when he started throwing up again. Arthur had to.

He wasn't laughing this time.

That made it worse.

~

He woke up with the worst fucking headache anyone could imagine. His entire body felt like it was on fire. Every time he breathed his eyes burned. He could barely swallow. His mouth was too dry.

Eyes shut as tight as possible, he heaves the too-heavy blanket off of him, and shifts so his feet are off the bed and he's sitting up. A fire even worse than the original soared up his spine, and without thinking, Merlin launched into a sprint towards the bathroom again.

There was nothing left inside him to throw up. He was just gagging up spit.

He left the bathroom, heading to the kitchen. He hadn't left the pain meds in the bathroom for some reason, so he needed to find them.

Someone clearing their throat draws his attention away from his search for medication. He turns to find Arthur watching him from his position on the couch.

"Are you feeling better?"

Merlin nods.

"Say something then."

Merlin tenses. Arthur, noticing his hesitation, sighs and walks up to him.

"I need to talk to the guys about the water." There's a moment of silence, where Merlin resists the urge to touch Arthur in any way possible. "Speaking of water, would you like some?"

He nods again, not sure if him not being able to speak is because of his dehydration, or the man in front of him.

Arthur places a glass in front of Merlin, and he downs it in one go. Arthur chuckles under his breath, and Merlin almost smiles at the thought that he made Arthur laugh.

After a few seconds of comfortable silence, and Merlin guzzling down another glass of water, Merlin apologises.

Arthur looks up immediately, "Why?"

"What..?"

"Why are you sorry? You've nothing to be sorry for."

"I know how much you wanted to go to the party, and you left because you had to look after me. Because I was too stupid to know to not trust a random glass of water that someone gives me. I'm sorry that you got dragged away from your friends just because of me."

When Arthur doesn't respond Merlin glances up to find Arthur staring at him. "What's with that look?"

"It's jus-" Arthur's phone rings, and he checks the caller ID. He glances back at Merlin apologetically, "Sorry, I've gotta go."

Merlin blinks. Plasters on the same smile he always does.

"It's fine, don't worry about it."

Arthur hesitates for a moment.

"Go. I'll see you later."

Arthur nods, "Thanks Merlin."

~

Fuck. He was stupid. So so stupid. Especially to think that Arthur would've wanted to stay and talk to him.

For fucks sake. He's fucking straight, and he loves it. Why'd he have to fall for the straightest person in the whole fucking world?

At least it was dark enough in his bedroom, that no one would have to be able to see him. Even if Arthur was gay, why would he want to be with someone like Merlin? Why would anyone want to be with him?

He was so fucked up. Outside and inside. No one would ever want him, least of all the person he wanted more than anything. He would just be alone forever. Nothing he isn't used to.

But god, he wanted so much just to be with someone.

With him..

[a-slashersfinalgirl]

Oh naur

[justaz]

magic reveal where arthur doesn't say a word and starts walking away and then merlin is at his heel calling for him, pleading with him to talk, to let him explain everything, begging for him to turn around and look at him, his voice breaking with grief. arthur has never been able to deny merlin anything and turns but he is still hurt and angry and merlin can see it in his eyes before he even opens his mouth to spew accusations. merlin stands, demure, as he shakes his head yet he doesn't say anything - fallen silent under arthur's rage. arthur walks away and around a corner, merlin doesn't follow. merlin breaks down into heartbroken tears and sobs and arthur is just around the corner, leaning on the wall for support, and listening to merlin fall apart.

[counting-stars-gayly]

Sometimes, I think about how Merlin purposefully turned Arthur against magic twice—the first time to save his soul and the second to save his life—so when he finally told Arthur he was a sorcerer, it was the ultimate bamboozle.

“How could the bumbling idiot I’ve known all these years have been my greatest protector the whole time?” Yeah, sure. But also: “How could a sorcerer have chosen me over magic? Over his own freedom and the freedom of those like him? Over the gods who created him and the religion that saves him?” It’s one thing to die for someone and another thing entirely to give up who you are for them.

Obviously, Merlin was wrong, and that’s why playing God had an effect opposite to what he’d intended. But I think it’s so interesting to consider how Arthur might have viewed this confession. He was betrayed by Morgana because she loved herself more than her own brother and betrayed by Uther because he loved himself more than his own son. And all of this while Merlin, at first, fell in love with the cause and, then, even more with the man behind it. His loyalty to and love for Arthur was so pure it turned sinful, and I don’t think Arthur would have ever gotten over that. If he hadn’t died.

[that-nerd-who-writes-fanfiction]

Arthur: I want to wake up to you every day for the rest of our lives.

Merlin: I wake up at sunrise.

Arthur: …

Arthur: I want to see you at a reasonable time every morning for the rest of our lives.

Merlin: I could always laze in bed till you wake up.

Arthur, knowing that will more than likely mean waking up to Merlin playing with his hair every morning: Perfect. Yes. Do that.

[raviraaa]

two sides of the same coin or smth…

imagine arthur waking up after centuries & stumbling into a new world only to find a merlin who doesn’t remember him, but still wears his wedding ring around his neck as if it means something.

[yoonkles]

*media with a tragedy so intense that it haunts the entire storyline*

fanfic writers: i can make it even worse

[skoff-the-artist]

Captive

[merrilinie]

TW: mentions of torture, talk of scars

Merlin who doesn’t like it when people touch his back. Arthur and Leon notice it first and near instantly when Leon gives him a friendly pat and the boy tenses so hard it’s a surprise his shoulders didn’t pop out of place.

Elyan and Gwen notice it when they invite him over for a late dinner once he and Gwen are finished with their duties and he refuses to press his back to the chair.

Gwaine figures it out on the first day, with it being him who tells Lancelot and Percival about it. Lance tries to ask the other if it has something to do with his magic, but upon Merlin’s face going cold and a shadow of fear crossing his eyes, he promises not to bring it up again.

They all just know not to touch his back or anywhere on his torso or even his upper legs, there’s bo need to question it both because they respect his boy dies and, well… they’re scared of what the answer might be.

It’s when Merlin gets hit in an ambush that the truth of it is revealed.

The gash along his side is not all that deep, but the cowardly bandits who attacked had laced their blades with poison. With no choice, they remove his jacket and shirt to properly clean out the wound as best they can.

There are a few gasps, a lot of purposeful ignored tears, but they all steel their nerves and pretend not to see the vicious scars on his body. None of them could deny the sight, try as they might, not when the scars were big and jagged and so clearly from some kind of whip. They tried not to look at the ladder like lines across his stomach, going up to his lower pecks before turning into vicious swirls that seemed to mock the Druid mark.

It was useless.

Merlin was conscious enough to tell them what to put on his wound, to order them to make him drink as much as he could so wash what they could out of his system. He told them to find a river for him to lay in as the fever broke, which they did.

No one said a thing about the burns littering his legs.

When he awoke with full consciousness, he knew instantly that they had seen even though he had been given clothes. If they weren’t different to what he had been wearing, maybe he wouldn’t have.

Alas, their saddened eyes gave it away.

It’s Arthur who asks, “Merlin… who did this to you?”

Merlin cries openly, always refusing to hide his tears unlike every other man, he spews apologies over and over. Even as Lance and Gwaine hold him close he continues, ignoring their assurances that it’s okay until eventually he answers.

“It was Uther. He found out my father was a dragon lord. He only spared me because he wanted to see a dragon lord become a slave.”

Arthur’s tears join his in the soil.

[just-neckerchief-things]

Arthur: I have really high standards

Merlin:

Arthur: oh no he’s meeting all of my standards

[olivers-pocket-reality]

Let me just say that this was one of the best cases of storytelling and characterization ive ever seen. i read the whole thing in one sitting because i couldnt get myself to stop. thank you for gracing us with this masterpiece.

Merlin finally breaks, crumbles, falls apart completely;

The Gang witness this, and have to try and put their friend’s pieces back together without him realising.

Part 2   Part 3(final part)

TW: Angst as hell, with a cliff hanger ending (it will get better in part 3). Merlin has a full on mental breakdown, suicidal ideation, sleep deprivation (as a subconscious form of SH?)

Merlin had been being quiet for weeks, they’d all noticed it. If they think harder, if they focus, it might actually have been months, maybe even years, but they never pay much attention to Merlin. They all feel subconsciously guilty about that, but to be fair, he has this… habit, of fading in to the background when he’s not actively trying to be a part of the conversation.

Deliberate or not, they still should have noticed sooner.

His slow withdrawal from the group just means that when Arthur spies him in the courtyard from his window, roughly disguised with a cloak covering his head and making his way out of the castle grounds, he doesn’t hesitate much before putting on his own boots and cloak, grabbing his sword, and following him.

Keep reading

[gaiussleechtank]

I never like thinking about Merlin’s dragonlord heritage for too long because I start to think about the implications of it.

If the lord part of being a Dragonlord meant nobility, then surely Balinor had an estate/ noble house of some kind.

All I can imagine is Merlin finding that grand home one day, and it being nothing but a hollow ruin. Flying in the wind are burnt and tattered banners of a family crest that Merlin doesn’t know is his because that knowledge is forever lost. Rooms upon rooms that once were occupied by his ancestors, ancestors who he will never be able to name. The kitchen frozen in time with dusty and moulded plates sitting on the table, a plate that maybe his aunt or an uncle, maybe a grandparent or a cousin was eating from before Uther’s men came after them. Little trinkets, jewellery, heirlooms, beloved toys, precious keepsakes scattered everywhere, and he wouldn’t know that by default they were his.

He would walk those abandoned halls, seeing how clearly loved that home was, how full of life and people and family it had had before the purge had broken out: only to wish that he could have experienced that in his childhood.

He would just see that grand house as nothing more than another of Uther’s victims, completely unaware of his connection to the place.

EDIT: OH GOD WHAT IF MERLIN HAD A SIGIL???

[honey-sweet-poet]

How many times do you think Merlin brought in breakfast for Arthur just to find an empty room and a cold bed? How many times did he stumble out of bed in the morning, going to the kitchens without a thought while the cook let him take food became she couldn't bare reminding him? How many times do you think Merlin went to go clean Arthur's room only to find it unchanged since he last entered? How many times do you think Gwen found him there after she switched rooms because she couldn't bare to be there, but when she passed by Merlin always was? How many times did Merlin light a fire or wait at the desk for Arthur, trying to forget that he wouldn't be in that room ever again?