#because even before lancelot stepped into the veil

[gdn7-dollopole]

“No! No!” “… No…”

The small, chocked ‘no’ at the end is Merlin’s shock. This is Merlin’s despair portrayed in what I think is one of the most underrated scenes of the entire show.

Merlin has lost all hope of being seen for who he really is, the moment his only friend, Lancelot, who’s actually known Merlin completely, accepted him without ‘ifs’ and ‘buts’, dies in front of him, and Merlin is the only one who sees him one last time. He wouldn’t have screamed if the other knights were conscious, and we know why.

There is no place for his grief, and now, no one will ever know why Lancelot’s death hurts Merlin the most compared to everyone else.

Merlin’s glued to his place, unable to move, because he doesn’t know what to do, and he knows that there is nothing he can do, for the first time since ever, so he screams, but he doesn’t cry. His shout is as dry as his heart, that stops beating, soundless as the place Merlin finds himself in. Only his eyes tremble, searching for something Merlin knows isn’t there, and his face shakes, his steps slightly faltering back.

Merlin’s all alone.

Not even the Gods are with him anymore.

The shot at the end, widening the ruins, with the single thunder heard in the background, as Merlin stands there motionless, is a great metaphor of his utter solitude from that episode on.

[justaz]

i've had this au idea for a while and have tried writing it but i don't get far into it before abandoning it so ill post it in case someone else wants to write it or take some inspiration from it or what have you. s4ep1/2 au.

merlin uses his magic to just latch arthur's feet to the ground as well as lancelot's when he sees him creeping towards the veil. merlin turns to face them as he walks backwards, revealing his gold eyes and magic to arthur which barely registers in his mind as he understands what merlin's doing and Panics. he's yelling and almost begging and demanding merlin to get back here you idiot. i'm the king you listen to me

and merlin just smiles and is like when have i ever listened to you? and steps into the veil, sacrificing himself and closing it. with his death, his magic releases arthur and lancelot who are just like. what the fuck. and grief-stricken. and angry. anyways they go back to camelot and lancelot stays with gwen and they mourn together. gwaine is. a wreck. the knights are all grieving. arthur is just. gone. like. he closes himself in his chambers for like two weeks. he doesn't sleep, he doesn't eat, he can barely function. anyways merlin watches him from the veil as a spirit, he watches all of them and is a little guilty about causing them so much grief and heart ache but he rather them be sad and alive than dead so he doesn't regret it that much

magic lore i made up - since merlin gave his life in an exchange, he gets to remain conscious and aware within the veil. the other spirits that roam around are focused on whatever's keeping them there (and keeping them from moving on to the afterlife). there's a lot of sorcerers in camelot who are angry and crying because they were executed by uther - their heads cut off, their bodies charred, or their necks bent at odd angles. they wander around calling for justice. anyways ygraine's life was also taken in an exchange so what i'm saying is ygraine and merlin best friends arc.

they both watch over arthur with worry and then one day arthur just storms out of his chambers and down to the library and buries himself in books, searching desperately for a way to bring merlin back. with how little he's eating and sleeping, arthur ends up passing out and has a nightmare. merlin reaches out on instinct wishing to comfort him and ends up getting pulled into his dreams, only with his intention being to comfort, his arrival shifts the dream from a nightmare into something a lot more pleasant - merlin and arthur together and alive and...courting? it looks like? arthur leans in to kiss him but the dream dissipates right before their lips meet.

anyways, that happens a few times with a few different dreams as arthur searches for a way to open the veil again and bring merlin back. i have two different endings for this though. one is, since merlin is emrys and immortal, after some time the cailleach comes back and is like "immortal asshole. i took some of your eternal life force but you're still immortal but the veil is still sealed. i can't keep someone who still has all this life. get out." and just pushes him out of the veil and into his body again. OR arthur finds a way to bargain with the cailleach and sees his mother with merlin and bada bing bada boom (i forgot to add that arthur at some point finds out about his uncles treachery lmao) trades agravaine's life for ygraine's and then his father's (he can't stand to see his father wasting away and sees this peaceful death as mercy) for merlin's. and he gets his mom and bf best friend manservant back.

after everything settles down, arthur finally has time to focus on merlin's magic but with the trauma of almost losing him, he finds he really can't care about it and just repeals the ban to keep from even thinking about executing him so merlin will never be in danger again. ygraine is also happy about this bc i hc she had a little bit of magic. she learned from her gf nimueh. bonus hc bc i feel like it - ygraine and uther were married and loved each other, yes, but ygraine took nimueh as her consort and uther took balinor as his consort.

okay thats all. if anyone actually writes this or anything similar to it, it'd love to read it. pls tag me or dm me <3

[the-pen-pot]

Fangirling for chapter 39

However, before any of them could utter a word, Lady Mellifor stepped forward, her gaze shrewd. 'I witnessed no sorcery,' she declared. 'I saw nothing more than a desperate man attempt to assassinate Camelot's Prince Regent. You do not deserve the mercy that you have been shown. The gallows are too good for you!'

'Your lies are the pathetic excuses of someone seeking to escape the consequences of their actions,' Sir Geoffrey added, his old voice resonant in the echoing dungeon. 'Consequences that are well-deserved.'

So, they know Merlin did indeed use magic there or Merlin somehow 'blinded' them to it? Oh, but I guess with the conversation between Arthur and Sir Geoffrey later they DO know about magic but don't mind it! (My reading comprehension is still there but slower.) Good that he has other supporters!

'I've made him forget. I didn't want him lurking in the shadows, waiting for the chance to stab us in the back. He will carry his guilt and his punishment, but he won't recall the details. He will go in peace, and he won't bother Camelot again.' He hitched his shoulders in a shrug, an almost-apology. 'Mordred's not the only one who can meddle with people's minds. I don't like doing it, but if it keeps Arthur safe…'

Well yes, it is creepy to know he can mess with people's mind. But it's for Arthur and if it's for him then I don't think there is nothing Merlin would do for him. Total devotion. It's a good thing Merlin is on their side because OMG he would be a terrifying villain with all those powers. 😲

'No. Not yet. I'll tell him once Vernell has gone. How he handles this is important to the court. People will remember it for years to come. It's essential that Arthur appears completely genuine. This way, he doesn't have to hide anything from the council.'

'Instead, you take on the burden.'

Merlin huffed a mirthless laugh. 'I'm used to it,' he promised.

See, evidence of his total devotion. But we've seen that clearly in previous chapers. I mean, he literarly would take on Arthur's pain (and his friends's pain).

(And I think if Arthur was able to, he would also take on Merlin's pain. Maybe Merlin doesn't fully believe that yet. )

There was a moment of hesitation, and Merlin felt the memory of the previous night at the inn paint the air with its veils. Perhaps it was unwise to offer to touch Arthur, even in his capacity as servant and healer, but there were some things Merlin could not sacrifice. He could reluctantly bow to the common sense of setting aside the desire Arthur stirred in him, but he refused to keep his distance. It might be better for his sanity, but it would be catastrophic for the friendship that flourished between them.

😍😍😍😍 I was glad when Arthur said yes. He can't stop being close to Merlin either. 😍😍😍😍

When he turned around, it was to find Arthur standing behind him, close enough to touch. His chest was still bare, bronzed by the firelight, and Arthur's gaze carried an intensity that made Merlin's heart race.

'What?'

Arthur reached out, his fingers hesitating a scant half-inch away before he traced a line along Merlin's collarbone. 'There was one here, from that same tavern brawl.' His right hand dropped, bolder now, to curve around the dip of Merlin's waist. 'Three deep slices here, from when you saved Lancelot from being gutted by a manticore by putting yourself in harm's way.'

I can see this in my mind like a movie (and in that movie they kiss,🤣🤣🤣🤣 )

This story is making my vacation week extra fun.

I am so glad it's making your vacation week extra fun, lovely, and that it's movie-evocative in your head! I'm so close to finishing off posting Hiraeth on AO3 at last. It's kinda epic!

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

Hey! I hope everything in your situation turns out okay and it all goes for the better soon. Best of luck and hopefully you can find comfort in something the way so many of us find refuge in your writing!

(unrelated…I’ve been pondering how everyone would react/feel if Merlin had managed to sacrifice himself instead of Lancelot, just sad hour thoughts and I wanted to know yours)

You're very kind anon, and I LOVE you!!!

In other things:

(Headcanon Masterlist) (Full Masterlist)

This is angst, but has the potential for a happy ending depending on whether you think Merlin’s immortality covers The Veil Sacrifice Clause™

Arthur is, obviously, besides himself, though in what way depends on the specifics. If he sees it happen, there's lots of screaming and a few tears and angry yelling and the other knights have to hold him back. If he doesn't see it happen, if he just sort of wakes up in the morning and the veil has been repaired and Merlin is gone, I think he'd just shutdown. Leon has to start giving the orders because Arthur won't speak, won't make any facial expressions, barely moves. He won’t say anything the whole way back to Camelot, and becomes super withdrawn, basically forever. Not just because his best friend is no longer beside him, but because he blames himself entirely and the guilt is... a lot. Gwen is probably the only thing that helps him through it.

I honestly imagine Gwaine to be very similar to Arthur. No more happy go lucky, no more jokes, no more messing around, just stoney faced misery. He probably tries to quit and disappear in the middle of the night soon after they get back, but someone, Lance or Leon, or maybe even Arthur, catches him and asks if that's what Merlin would really want, and persuades him to stay, at least for a little while.

Elyan is... quietly distraught. I always liked to believed that the two were closer than seen in the show. After all, this funky little servant, sort of an idiot at first glance but actually very intelligent and funny and kind, risks his life to save Elyan's sister, is somehow friends with The Prince, and makes a concerted effort to save Elyan as well, despite not knowing him at ALL. Merlin is probably one of Elyan's first friends when he settles in Camelot again, and was there when he was knighted. So yeah, Elyan spends a lot of time looking after Gwen and Gwaine, because if he doesn't he's going to realise that he never paid enough attention to one of the people that, really, he owed almost everything to.

Lancelot feels so guilty. Because the moment they all left the citadel, he knew Merlin was going to try something. Merlin has been playing the whole self-sacrificial act since before Lance even met him, and despite all his plans to step in, to stop him, to take his place, Merlin slips through his fingers anyway. He sort of teams up with Leon, I think, to try and look after everyone, to try and make sure they all get back to Camelot in one piece. I also think there's a potential, later down the line, for him to blame Arthur. Not for the fact that Merlin sacrificed himself, because that's just what Merlin's like and there would've been no stopping him, but because of the whole magic thing. If Arthur hadn't followed so ardently in his father's footsteps, Morgana wouldn't have been so afraid, wouldn't have had to turn to Morgause, wouldn't have turned evil, wouldn't have opened the veil in the first place. Who knows if he would ever express those thoughts, but I imagine, in some meeting or other, Arthur tries to double down on his anti magic views because of Merlin's death, and all Lancelot can do is laugh in his face. And then, maybe after, explain the truth all about Merlin and his magic and the prophecies and everything he'd done for Arthur and Camelot.

Percival is probably the best at keeping a lid on it. He knew Merlin the least, and though he was extremely fond of the man, half because he's just endearing on his own, and half because of how much Lancelot rambled about him when they first met, they didn't really have much to do with each other. He takes on more of a silent protector role; whilst Leon and Lance make sure everyone sleeps and eats and goes in the right direction, Percival constantly circles the group, keeping an eye on their surroundings and protecting them from potential dangers, and keeping everyone focused and aware back in Camelot. He’s probably the main man responsible for making sure Gwaine (and on one or two instances, Elyan and Leon as well) make it home from the tavern without drowning in their own vomit in a ditch somewhere.

Leon is in bits, after all he's known Merlin the longest, bar Arthur and Gwen, and even then it's only by a few days. BUT he's also logical, and he knows that Merlin would be pissed as hell if he sacrificed himself for Arthur and Camelot, only to have Arthur drive the Kingdom into the ground because he's too busy staring at a wall in his grief to bother with doing his job. He gives himself time to grieve (and when he goes, he goes BIG), but he's also very good at compartmentalising when necessary, and keeping it, for the most part, private.

Gwen barely recovers. I really do think that she and Arthur only get through it because they have each other. Merlin is her oldest and truest friend, the one who has always believed in her, even above Arthur, even now, sometimes. She always knew she'd have a place to call home as long as Merlin was around, he was just this... safety net, that meant nothing could possibly be too scary or too difficult for her to deal with. It takes a long while to regain her confidence after he dies, because a lot of her confidence came from the fact that she KNEW Merlin had unfailing faith in her, and would always be there to catch her should she fall. Her and Arthur spend long quiet nights by the fire reminiscing, telling each other stupid stories; Gwen definitely forces him to face himself, forces Arthur to admit that Merlin was more to him that a servant, was his best friend and most trusted advisor and deserved a hell of a lot more than anything Arthur ever gave him. But not in a cruel way, just because she knows if Arthur never confronts it then the guilt would eat him alive. It, in a horrible sort of way, probably brings them a lot closer together, and it's the same with her and Elyan.

Gaius doesn't even know what to do with himself. He can barely look any of them in the eye, and spends a lot of time with Lancelot, purely because he's the only other person who knew as close to everything about Merlin as Gaius did. He probably grows to resent Arthur a little, for the same reasons as Lance, but is much better at hiding it and keeping it under wraps where Lance's spills over a little. He tries to get into contact with the Druids or with Kilgharrah, but he really doesn't know what to do, and is just generally very out of his depth with the whole... destiny thing.

~

I hope that's the sort of thing you're after, anon!!

[friendlyneighborhoodcapricorn]

Ooooooh I have one. “You make me feel like nothing can hurt me.” Pick a knight, any knight. Plus as much angst as you’re willing to write

Ooh that is a lovely prompt, yes! As much angst as I’m willing to write, huh? Well, you asked for it :)

Taken from this prompt list.

@sehnsuchts-trunken not sure if this is your cup of tea, but thought I’d tag you in case you wanted to read it.

Warnings: character death (you see the gif right?), mentions of suicide (canonical only)

Twice. You had lost the man you loved twice. Once because he sacrificed himself, once because he took his own life after having an affair with the soon-to-be queen.

And now you were standing on the banks of Avalon with Merlin, giving Lancelot a final departure. You thought Lancelot would like this: the lake, the warm and sunny day, the flowers.

“(Y/N)-“ Merlin began, but you shook your head.

“Not now, Merlin.”

“No, there’s something you need to know.” A brief pause. “Well, there’s two things.”

“I’m sure they can wait.”

“Actually, they can’t.”

You sighed. This day seemed to be wearing on forever, and it wasn’t even noon yet.

“Alright,” you said, turning to face him. “What is it?”

Merlin’s eyes darted to the boat and then back at your face. “I have magic.”

You stared at him. For a second, all you could do was blink. “And that’s relevant how?”

“Because I know why Lancelot was like that.”

“What, a colossal asshole?”

Merlin furiously shook his head. “No! And I can’t stand the idea that you think that, which is why I’m telling you this. It was Morgana, (Y/N).”

“What?”

“She’s the one who brought Lancelot out back, but he wasn’t- he wasn’t himself. She just brought back an empty shell, and filled his mind with her own manipulations,” he explained. Then his voice took on a pleasing note. “Lancelot would never do something like this, (Y/N). You know that.”

And you did. You had known it from the moment you’d decided to follow him when he got up in the middle of the night and then caught him kissing Guinevere.

But you’d chosen to ignore it in favour of being angry, because that was easier than having to go through the agony of knowing that you’d never truly gotten Lancelot back.

“Yes,” you admitted quietly. “I know. But why are you telling this to me? Why aren’t you telling this to Arthur? It’s- it’s too late for Lancelot, but not for Gwen. Not yet. If Arthur knows-“

Merlin shook his head. “I can’t prove it. I know Lancelot was a Shade because Gaius and I used my magic for that, but now that he’s gone, we can’t prove it anymore. The Shade is gone.” He glanced back at the boat full of flowers. “This is just his body.”

You hesitated a moment before nodding.“I understand. Thank you for telling me.”

Then you stepped forward and knelt next to the boat. You and Merlin had taken the time to fill it with hundreds of wild flowers, because no matter how angry you’d been at Lancelot, he deserved a proper send-off. You hadn’t been able to give him one after the Veil.

“That’s not everything,” Merlin said, and you heard him take a few steps into the water. “I want to try to restore his soul, (Y/N).”

You glanced up at him, unable to fend off your smile. “You don’t need my permission, Merlin. But you have my blessing.”

He nodded, and then placed his hand over Lancelot’s head, closing his eyes and murmuring something in a language you didn’t understand. Right as he stepped back, Lancelot gasped.

You nearly tumbled back into the lake when he opened his eyes and turned his head to look at you. He smiled softly. “(Y/N). I’m so sorry.”

You grabbed his hand, unable to breathe. “No, no, Lancelot, it’s not your fault. You did nothing wrong.”

“But I hurt you,” he protested, his voice sluggish.

“Lancelot, you have always made me feel like nothing in the world could hurt me. Least of all you,” you whispered, squeezing his hand. “I love you. So, so much.”

“I love you too,” he murmured. He tilted his head, eyes darting to Merlin. ��Merlin. Thank you.”

“Of course,” Merlin said, so softly that you barely heard him over the wind rustling in the trees.

Lancelot looked relieved. You could tell his strength was starting to fail him and got to your feet so you could lean over the edge of the boat and kiss his forehead.

“It’s alright, Lancelot,” you assured him, even though your eyes were burning. “It’s alright.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice. He closed his eyes, sighed softly, and didn’t breathe in again.

[night-faye]

Merlin + "dont ask" please

Ask and ye shall receive! :D

Lancelot frowned as he looked at Merlin, his brows furrowed. There were too many questions in his head, filling up all the empty space and fighting the more important things for dominance.

Just as they were now, actually. He hissed as a burning sensation ripped across his arm, and jerked his head down at it to see Gaius pull away a slightly damp cloth.

Gaius lifted an unimpressed eyebrow at him. “I did warn you, sir Lancelot.”

“Sorry, Gaius. I must’ve been-”

“Distracted? Yes, you seem to be distracted quite a lot these days.” The old man said, his lips twisting into a wry smile, a glint of amusement in his eyes. Lancelot quirked a small smile of his own at him, and shrugged his shoulders.

“There’s just… A lot that I’m thinking about.”

Gaius hummed, and went back to treating the slash across his arm, the one he’d gotten because he was, of course, distracted while he was training.

And when you’re matched up against Gwaine, you can’t falter for even a moment, because he’ll take it and twist it into a victory, or at the very least a step towards it that you can’t get back.

He gave Gaius a smile as the physician wrapped his arm, before he patted Lancelot’s shoulder and stood up. “I’ve other patients to attend to, Merlin, I assume you’ll be fine to finish the restocking?”

Merlin looked up from the herb table, where he was half bent over it and pouring something that was ground up and a pale green. “Of course, Gaius.” He smiled, nodding.

Gaius nodded back, and picked up his medicine bag, slinging it over his shoulder as he left.

Lancelot watched as he went, before taking a deep breath and biting his lip, turning back to look at Merlin.

He released his lip, and swallowed. “Merlin…?” He asked, hating how hesitant he sounded, but… He needed this.

“Yes?” Merlin called, half distracted as he returned to his task.

“About the… About when I first came back from the veil, when I was a sh-”

Merlin had frozen, his face twisting into something dark, and his voice sharp as he cut Lancelot off.

“Don’t ask.”

Lancelot’s eyes widened, taken aback, and straightened up slightly. “But, Merlin, I-”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Lancelot!” Merlin shouted, slamming the measuring equipment on the table and looking up at him, his gaze hard and steely, like a sword, digging into Lancelot’s very being.

“But I do!” Lancelot shouted back as he stood, he couldn’t help it. He wasn’t one to yell, really, not like this, but- “Merlin, I have no idea what I did during those days, and I’ve accepted the lost time from when I was with Morgana, I know there’s no way of getting that back, but- But you, and Arthur, and the rest, you all know what happened once I got here, and I don’t. Do you have any idea how terrifying that is?”

He took in Merlin’s face, and how the anger on it seemed to crack down the middle, devastation pouring onto his face like a waterfall, and Lancelot’s heart twisted at the sight, but now that he’s started he finds that he can’t stop.

“Sometimes Gwen looks at me like- I don’t even know, but it’s different, like she doesn’t fully trust me, anymore. And Arthur, sometimes I think he hates me, a little, and then he shakes himself and he looks like he hates himself for it. And the other knights, they always look… Fuck, Merlin.” Lancelot breathed, digging his fingers into his hair. “Even you trust me less. You’ve stopped coming to me about things, and then you try and hide it, but I know you, I can tell. And I just-”

He breathed, and raked his fingers down his face, before pressing his hands together in front of his lips and meeting Merlin’s eyes once more.

“What did I do when I was a shade, Merlin? Please.”

Merlin closed his eyes, and curled his fingers into his palms, knuckles pressed against the top of the table, and he looked the other way.

And he told Lancelot everything.

Posted on AO3 - Here

Prompt list - Here

[supercalvin]

For ficlets... I think there’s a criminal shortage of sigil scene related fics haha! I had this idea for a fic where Merlin attempts to give Arthur the sigil back after they return to Camelot, because he thought Arthur only gave it to him cause he was about to sacrifice himself and wouldn’t need it anymore... but Arthur is hurt by this cause he meant it as a declaration of devotion, and thinks Merlin is rejecting him by returning it... I love a lack of communication lmao

In this house we stan Angst with a Happy Ending…so here you go

Prompts + Ficlets

***

“It belonged to my mother.”

“Arthur, I can’t-”

“Just…take it.”

Arthur would never forget the way Merlin’s voice had shook as he said, “I always thought if things would have been different, we would have been good friends.” The way the fire warmed him despite the cold air around their campsite. The way Merlin looked directly into his eyes, thinking that he would take Arthur’s place when the time came to close the veil between worlds.

A calm had settled over him that night, like it always did before any battle. Except this time there wasn’t a battle, and he believed he would step forward to sacrifice himself.

Arthur had thought he would die, and he knew that Merlin believed he would take Arthur’s place. Whatever happened, Arthur wanted Merlin to know that if they both managed to make it out alive that Merlin held his heart. When he passed Merlin the sigil, and Merlin had immediately understood that he was gifting it to him, Arthur had thought his meaning was clear.

When they returned home to Camelot, one member of their party gone and no body left to burn, Arthur felt so many emotions that he was left feeling numb.

But there was one bright dot in his vision, and that was the fact that Merlin was still alive.

A week after Lancelot’s pyre had burned out, the citadel was still in silent mourning. Gwen had been scarce and Merlin, who had been closer to Lancelot than anyone else, was concerningly quiet.

One evening, when Arthur went to put away his keys in the locked drawer next to his bed, he found the small leather pouch sitting there, amongst his other precious belongings.

Arthur recognized the bag immediately. His heart, which had already taken so much in the last few weeks, cracked even further.

He picked up the leather pouch, tilting the sigil into his hand. It was cool in his palm, and Arthur remembered many nights as a young boy looking at it and wondering what type of person his mother had been. If he was really anything like her, like some of the courtiers whispered.

He closed his eyes, curling his hands tightly around the sigil until it felt like his hand might break. His chest felt tight and he was having trouble breathing, but he would not let himself cry.

He wished it wasn’t so late. He would go down to the training field and run until he couldn’t feel like limbs anymore. But he had a council session tomorrow and he had duties to attend to. He would have to continue on, nursing his broken heart in private.

He tucked the sigil back into the pouch and locked the drawer. He pulled out his emergency supply of sleeping draught, hoping it would knock him out soon.

Another week passed in silence. Arthur knew that they were all still mourning, and he did not want to bother Merlin with questions when it was obvious that he was still upset. He often came into Arthur’s chambers with dark circles under his eyes.

Eventually the sting of rejection faded into a dull ache that settled into Arthur’s chest. Longing was an old feeling he was accustomed to, but this felt different. Before there had always been the hope that something may change in the future. Now he knew Merlin’s answer, unquestionably.

A few months later, Arthur and Merlin found themselves riding through the woods toward a small village on the outskirts of Camelot, where a beast had been terrorizes the people. Arthur wanted to scout it out before sending in his Knights, and although he would never admit it, he wanted some time away from the citadel.

If only he had predicted the feelings that arose when they made camp under a small rock ledge. As Merlin made a fire, Arthur felt so thrown back to the night he had presented Merlin with the sigil that he couldn’t bare to stay there much longer. He gathered firewood for almost an hour before he was able to return, not answering any of Merlin’s questions on where he had been.

Arthur laid awake that night, listening to the crackle of the fire and Merlin’s slow breathing a few feet away from him.

“Will you tell me what’s wrong?” Merlin asked.

Arthur turned his head, able to see Merlin’s outline by the firelight, but only just.

He shook his head, Merlin wasn’t cruel. He must have thought something else was bothering Arthur. But the night’s cover had made him bold. He looked away from Merlin, swallowing thickly before he said, “Why did you take it at all?”

“Take what?”

Arthur closed his eyes, “My mother’s sigil.”

Arthur heard Merlin shift, but he didn’t open his eyes, too afraid to see Merlin’s reaction.

“Before we closed the veil?” Merlin asked, “You gave it to me when you thought you would walk through the veil.”

“Yes, why?”

There was a long enough pause that Arthur opened his eyes and turned to look at Merlin. His brows were furrowed, “You insisted I take it. I was going to walk through the veil, so I tried to give it back, but…”

He didn’t need to clarify.

Arthur propped himself up on his elbow, “Merlin…Why did you think I gave you that sigil?”

Merlin blinked, “So that your mother’s sigil wouldn’t perish with you when you walked through the veil. Why else?”

Arthur closed his eyes, not sure if he felt relief or anger more. Or if he was just spiraling into a confusing mix of both.

“Merlin,” Arthur laid back down and covered his face with his hands. “You absolute idiot.”

“What?”

Arthur exhaled a slightly unsettled laugh escaping him, his heart lifting with a small ounce of hope.

“I should have known tradition would have been lost on you.”

Arthur lifted himself up so that he was looking over at Merlin, who was propped up watching Arthur with wide earnest eyes. “When a man presents a symbol of his family to someone…” Arthur swallowed thickly, “Someone dear to him… It is an offer. A proposal of sorts.”

Merlin swallowed and Arthur couldn’t help tracking the movement of his Adam’s apple.

“Merlin, I wanted you to know that even if I died, that I had loved you. I thought you taking the sigil was…if it wasn’t your reciprocation than it was at least your acceptance of my feelings.”

“Feelings…” Merlin’s voice sounded just as constricted as Arthur’s.

“When you returned it, I thought you knew what it meant. I thought you were telling me that you didn’t...”

Merlin shook his head. “I didn’t know it had been a gift. I just thought… Arthur, if I had known…”

Merlin shifted, pushing off the wool blanket. He walked over on his knees to Arthur, and Arthur’s heart raced in his chest. Merlin placed a hand on Arthur’s neck, lifting him up so they were nose to nose.

“If I had known, I would have never given it back.” Merlin’s words were barely audible above the fire’s crackle.

Arthur lifted his hand, pressing their foreheads together. “If I gave it to you again, would you keep it?”

Merlin nodded, his nose rubbing against Arthur’s, “I would wear it against my heart, forever.”

Arthur didn’t have anymore restraint left in him, surging up to capture Merlin’s lips.

***

Prompts + Ficlets

[essays-for-breakfast]

Tales of the Past

Kiane Week Day Three: Innocence

Note: Since the identity of King’s and Diane’s child is still a mystery, I simply incorporated Ivy from my other story, Conquest of the Past, into this. You don’t have to read that one to understand this one shot. Please enjoy.

Doesn’t time fly?

One day the Holy War scourged the lands of Britannia, a threat to all life and all light, and the next King kissed Diane and sealed their unending bond through the marriage he had dreamed of for so long.

One day he held his newborn daughter in his arms, mesmerized by every breath she took, and the next she talked in full sentences and outran him in a race to the silver springs and back home.

Life hurried past so quickly, it never stopped for King to catch up, and before he knew, his daughter would grow up to go her own way. Even his increased life span as Fairy King didn’t allow for enough time to appreciate all these precious moments, to savor all the talks and all the embraces and all the kisses before time placed the veil of forgetfulness over them. But life always had a new gift in store to repay the bittersweet taste on King’s tongue when his mind drifted to the inevitable end. A simple walk, a simple conversation, a simple smile – he never needed more.

Few things these days filled King with the same warmth as when he watched his daughter play. Ivy hopped across the root-infested earth of the Fairy King’s Forest, in pursuit of a butterfly. Unlike her mother, she took a liking to bugs and critters of all kind, maybe more so than to the Fairies around her.

His thoughts circled around her in lazy turns, like ponderous bees in the summer heat, and so he nearly missed the low-hanging sycamore branch in Ivy’s path.

“Ivy, be careful or you will…” She craned her neck towards King but didn’t bother to slow her steps. Her temple crashed against the branch, and she went down. “… or you will bump your head!”

King pushed his wings to their limits and raced to where Ivy lay in the grass. But she sat herself back up before he reached her, and a sigh slipped his lips.

Ivy rubbed her head. “That branch wasn’t there last week. Do I have to die now?”

“Don’t say such silly things, you won’t die. Not on my watch.”

King flicked his fingers, and Chastifol manifested by his side, enwrapped by a golden aura. Another turn of his hand later, the Spirit Spear transformed into the translucent dome of its eight form. Ivy gaped and giggled as the pollen of the Sacred Tree healed her wound and replenished her energy. The cramp between King’s shoulders disappeared, and he allowed himself three additional breaths surrounded by the scent of flowers and the transient sound of windchimes. But, although he had plenty of magical energy to spare, the excessive use of Pollen Garden remained a lavish act.

“Everything alright now?” King asked as the gold-patterned walls disintegrated.

Ivy nodded. “It doesn’t hurt one bit! I thought I was done for.”

“I won’t let anything happen to you. I promised you that, don’t you remember? But I’m afraid that the branch above us was there last week as well. You are growing too fast.”

“And soon I will be twice as tall as you! Do you think I will be as tall as mommy one day?”

“Maybe. But I hope you take your time with growing up. Just a little bit, for my sake.”

“I don’t like being so tall anyway. Every time Lance comes over to visit, I feel like he is getting smaller. Hitting his head with a ball becomes so much harder when the target’s so tiny.”

King opted for a serious expression, but the round violet eyes of his daughter melted any steel in his voice. “Ivy, you’re not supposed to hit him.”

“Why? He always gets back to his feet the next second. He’s a sore loser, it’s not my fault he can’t admit that I’m the better thrower.”

“I just don’t want you to do something you will regret later on. You are incredibly strong, and looking at your mother, I think you will become even stronger. But strength can be used for the wrong reasons. In a moment of carelessness, strength can become a weapon to hurt others, including people you care about. I fought your uncle once because I was blinded by loss and thoughts of betrayal. I wanted to hurt him. And I did. And he wasn’t the only one I hurt. I don’t want you to make the same mistakes I did.”

Ivy crossed her arms. “But you’re not a fighter. I’ve never seen you so much as argue with someone. Not even with uncle Ban, even though he tells terrible jokes and talks too much when he is drinking that weird stuff in the glass bottles with the unseemly pictures.”

“You’d be surprised by how many battles your mother and I have fought. Come on. Let me show you something.”

Ivy straightened and climbed back to her feet – the last time King had offered her a hand, the attempt had ended in a dislocated shoulder on his part and a stream of sobs and apologies on Ivy’s part. After throwing the branch in her path a final death glare, Ivy caught up with King, and together they navigated the maze of tree trunks and broom bushes. The pathless forest allowed for uncounted places to hide and get lost beneath the dense canopy. But King knew every stone and every plant, could differentiate sections of the vast woodland by the sound of its leaves and the unique scents of morels or honey agarics. The energy of the forest was an ever-changing pattern that gave him a better understanding of where his wings carried him than any map. And so, he found the clearing overgrown with sweet woodruff in a matter of minutes.

Ivy pulled in a sharp breath. Amidst the greenery lay a war hammer of thirty feet length. The sun reflected from the bronze head. Despite a lack of recent polish, neither weather nor plant life had touched the Sacred Treasure; Gideon looked the same as on the day Diane had placed it here.

Ivy ran over and put her hands around the hilt. But she only managed to nudge the pommel from the ground. The head remained glued to its resting spot.

“What is this?” she asked and puffed when her next battle against Gideon’s weight proved fruitless. “It must weigh more than you and me combined!”

King smiled. “A lot more. This is your mother’s Sacred Treasure. She wielded it in the New Holy War.”

“No way. Mom fought in a war? And you were with her? Did you win?”

“Yes, we won. We won battles against knights and Demons, and even the foulest creature of all them all, the Demon King himself.”

Ivy abandoned her assault on Gideon long enough to gawk at King. “You mean you and mom were heroes? You took responsibility for all the many people out there and protected them?”

“Not us two alone, no. We had friends to rely on. Your uncle Ban, the Captain, and Gowther among many more. You remember them, don’t you? It’s important to have friends you can trust. So, next time you play catch with Lancelot, maybe try to be a little more careful. If you’re both nice to each other, your bond will eventually reward you, maybe in a way you never expected.”

“Yeah, sure, as long as he admits that I’m the better thrower. What else happened during the war? The people must admire you very much for saving them.”

“I believe they did. Some still do. But I never fought to gain their favor. If anything, I felt a little uncomfortable with all the parties they threw to honor the Seven Deadly Sins. There was a lot of gratefulness, some of these people gained a freedom they never knew before the war. And without the war on the horizon, the Seven Deadly Sins might have never been assembled, and Diane and I might have never reunited. Most likely she would have found someone else, maybe not the Captain, but someone who would have been willing and eager to give her the love she deserves. It’s easy to say that all fighting is bad, and I will be the first to admit that the Holy War claimed far more victims because we as a group of knights did not always stand united. But at the same time, I’m glad I can’t turn back the clock. Because otherwise, we wouldn’t have had you.”

King stroked Ivy’s soft, reddish-brown locks. She leaned into the touch, even went so far as to wrap her arms around him.

No, King would never want to turn back time and risk the life he had now, the happy ending he and Diane had fought for. But if the Sacred Tree or another god had offered him the chance to stop the clocks and hold onto today forevermore, he might have accepted.

One day, before he knew it, Ivy would be grown up, and the sweet innocence of her childhood would run through his fingers no matter how desperately he begged the flow to stop. Another war might plague the lands. Another tyrant might escape the ashes, another creature sent from Purgatory or a realm beyond the world he knew. Ivy might have to take up arms to protect what she loved, just like her parents before her.

King listened to the soft breaths of his daughter and blinked away the veil of tears. “Try not to grow up too fast. Will you do that for me?”

“Okay, dad. But I will first have to ask mom if she agrees.”

A chuckle rocked King’s torso, and the grey clouds of the future backed away to gift him with another day in the sun. “Please do that. I wouldn’t want to enrage her with another one of my selfish ideas. She could drop a mountain on top of me. And I’m afraid she doesn’t need Gideon for that. How about we go back to her right away? I miss her, don’t you?”

“Very. I wanna ask her more about the war. I bet she was a super-amazing fighter if she could lift this hammer. And while we go back, I could catch another butterfly as a gift for her!”

King made a face and produced a series of undefinable sounds. “Maybe… we could look for – er – something else to surprise her with? Flowers for example. Everyone likes flowers.”

“But they’re so boring to catch! They can’t even run away!”

“Okay, okay, I’ll try to come up with something on the way home. How about some wild berries?”

“That’s not very creative. And once mom has eaten them, she’ll have nothing left to remember the gift.”

“A mushroom that looks like a face maybe?”

“How boring!”

Side by side and engrossed in a discussion loud enough to scare away swarms of song birds, father and daughter walked back home, to Diane. By the end of their journey, they had found not a single idea they could agree upon. Diane nevertheless embraced both of them with a smile and a remark of how heavy Ivy was getting.

And as she gave King a casual kiss, he stopped the clocks and held onto this moment forevermore.

[meteorjam]

Merlin Dragon Age!AU

I made a whole written out, in detail plot for this but here’s the pre TL:DR for anyone who just doesn’t want to read me describing it all. Though all their positions in this world are described in the text if you want more info.

Uther Pendragon: Knight Commander of the Knights Templar in the Free Marches Arthur Pendragon: Knight Captain of the Knights Templar in the Free Marches (leaves his position and ends up being the Inquistion’s Military Advisor when the Breach appears in the sky after the explosion at the conclave) Morgana Pendragon: Grew up in the Circle of Magi in the Free Marches and ran away when the Mage Rebellion began (comes back to help the Inquisition later and her and Arthur mend their broken relationship) Merlin: A powerful mage that is the bridge between the Fade (the world of spirits and darkspawn) and Thedas (the mortal plain). His destiny is to aid the Inqusition in closing the Breach and saving both worlds. Gwen: A Seeker in the Order of the Seekers of Truth meant to keep the Templars in check. She invokes the right to start an Inquisition after the Breach appears as she sees the Templar Order has become corrupt and can no longer work in the best interest of Thedas. Will: He’s literally the Inquisitor and doesn’t know why the hell the Maker chose him to have this glowing green thing on his arm that gives him the power to seal fade rifts but he’s seriously pissed off that the military advisor is a Templar. They’ve made him the leader of the Inquisition just because he happened to be at the Conclave at the explosion and was the only one to survive and gain weird fade powers? Ridiculous. He never wants to walk through the Fade again. He’s going to kick this Archdemon’s ass. It’s on sight.

Ok I put these under the cut because it was getting too long for the “short version.” Gaius: The Inquistion’s physician Daegel: A young mage who was recruited to join the Inquistion and reaaaalllllyyyy wants to study under Merlin The (Main) Knights: Fleshed out more in the text but they come from all over Thedas to train under Arthur to fight for the Inquistion. Out of the group, only Leon is a Templar. 

Uther Pendragon is the Knight Commander of the Knights Templar (thought by many to be next in line to be Knight Vigilant, leader of the entire Templar order) in Starkhaven in the Free Marches. Templars are loyal to the Chantry (Thedas’ main religious organization) and they hunt abominations, apostate mages, and look over the Circles of Magi meant to keep mages in line. Uther’s views towards mages are ruthless and he is more often than not in favor of invoking the Right of Anullment (a practice that not only rids a person of their magic but all emotions) for mages that step even a bit out of turn.

Arthur Pendragon has recently become Knight Captain of the Knights Templar in Starkhaven and was taught from a young age that a mage’s magic was meant to serve the Chantry and the Divine (Head religious figure) and nothing else. But, as his father’s methods concerning mages become more cruel, Arthur begins to second guess if Uther’s ways are what’s best for the people of Starkhaven

Then the Chantry in Kirkwall (another city in the Free Marches) is blown up by an Apostate mage and the Mage Rebellion begins. Morgana Pendragon, Arthur’s sister who’s been, according too Uther, plauged with the burden of magic, runs away during this time. She had spent most of her life in Starkhaven’s opressive Circle of Magi. Arthur is apalled by the actions of Kirkwall’s Knight Commander (who used the power of a red lyrium idol to try and destroy those that went against her) and begins to rethink his loyalty to the Templar Order.

After months of brutal fighting between mages and templars, the Chantry organizes a meeting between the mages and the templars at the Conclave south in Fereldan near the Frostback Mountains. A huge explosion happens at the conclave killing all in attendance including several mage and templar leaders and the Divine herself. A giant veil between the mortal world and the Fade (the world of spirits) appears in the sky and it is known as the Breach. Smaller fade rifts begin to appear all over Thedas and spirits and darkspawn start plaguing the land.

 It becomes clear to Gwen, one of the head Seekers in the order of the Seekers of Truth, that the Templars can no longer be trusted to protect Thedas and that, without the rule of the Divine, the land is weak. With the authority that comes with being a Seeker, a direct servant to the Divine, Gwen invokes the right to form an Inquisition to protect Thedas. Arthur catches wind of her plans and, having always respected the Seekers love for justice, pledges his help. He resigns from his position as Knight Captain in Starkhaven, much to the displeasure of his father, and moves south towards Haven (near the Frostback Mountains in Fereldan) to join th Inquistion.

The thing is, one person did survive the explosion at the conclave and he’s now their prime suspect. Will tries to tell him that he’s just a young man from a farm in Redcliff Village in the Hinterlands who was meant to bring provisions to the meeting at the conclave, but they won’t listen. After the explosion,Will was thrust into the Fade with the Divine and she sacrificed her life so that he could leave the Fade. He woke up in Haven with his arm suddenly glowing green in response to the Breach in the sky. He’s not a mage, never practiced magic. (To skip forward in the game, the green glowing thing is called an Anchor and it was meant to be used by the Archdemon responsible for the explosion to destroy the world and assume the postion of a God but Will touched the Anchor when the Archdemon had an altercation with the Divine and it became a part of him).

After Will proves his mark is useful at closing fade rifts and can even close the breach in the sky, he becomes the leader of the Inquisition upon their arrival in Skyhold (a stronger fort in the Frostback Mountains) after Haven gets destroyed when the Archdemon attacks with his dragon. Will hates being Inquisitor. He never wanted to be in charge. But this is bigger than what he wants. He just wishes he didn’t have to work with a bloody Templar. Him and Arthur do not get along. Will has always had a deep distrust towards Templars and towards the whole Chantry system. He regularly tells Arthur he wishes a Wayvern would just get it over with and swallow him whole already. Arthur is not amused.

Of course one of the most powerful mages in all of Thedas comes rolling into Skyhold because why not. Merlin has been a nomad for the past few years, aiding mages where he could and trying to help those effected by the recent Mage Rebellions. Turns out the man just... walks in the fade. He can’t actually close rifts like Will and can’t really do anything about the situation itself on such a large scale but he does just talk to spirits a lot to get their advice. Daegel, a young mage who had joined to help the Inquisiton, once asks him what his branch of magic specialization is, and Merlin just shrugs and responds “all I suppose.” Daegel never stops bothering him after that day because Merlin is insanely powerful and Daegel needs to learn from him. He just needs to.

Arthur is pissed off by Merlin’s connection to the Fade. It’s a dangerous place crawling with malicious spirits and darkspawn. He distrusts Merlin deeply in the beginning and is weary with how freely Merlin demonstrates his fade magic around others. Merlin assures him he only ever really talks to the good spirits. Somehow, that doesn’t ease Arthur’s worries.

Also, they find themselves on missions together all the time and Arthur just gets bullied by Will and Merlin who’ve become great friends. Also, Merlin is capable of blood magic but he hates using it. I imagine they encounter some situation involving the Deep Roads (roads under Thedas that were used for trade by the Dwarves but are now usually crawling with Darkspawn) where Merlin does have to use blood magic to get them past something and Arthur’s legitmately frightened for him because he’s seen mages get posessed while using blood magic before. Merlin just tells him to relax because “this spirit owes me a specific favor, he’s not actually capable of possessing me after I bound him last time” and Arthur’s just like “!!!! WHAT DOES THAT MEAN!!!!” He doesn’t use blood magic again after that around Arthur because the Templar looked like he was about to pass out. Merlin isn’t really fond of it anyway so its fine.

Morgana shows up at the Inquisiton at some point and Arthur is just shocked to see her. They really don’t know how to act around another because Morgana still thinks Arthur hates mages as much as Uther and Arthur thinks she can never forgive him for all the lies he belived, all the hurt he caused her. Morgana becomes a great spymaster for the Inquistion, having gained many connections in her time spent travelling.

Some of the strongest fighters in the Inquistion are Lancelot, Gwaine, Percival, Leon, Elyan, and Mordred. Leon grew up with Arthur in Starkhaven and followed him to Fereldan. Lancelot has always wanted to be a Templar but never got to join the order because he was busy taking care of his ill mother. It may have been a blessing in disguise because he begins to see the atrocities the Templars are responsible for and how some have even been corrupted and joined the Archdemon. He fights for the Inquistion tho because he sees it as a noble cause. Gwaine comes from Fereldan and has been looking for this type of adventure. He’s not exactly pleased he’s under the command of and surrounded by Templars, but he’s here for the journey and the found family.

Percival is from Kirkwall but had traveled south to Fereldan when his family was killed by Templars during the battle between Mages and Templars after the Chantry explosion. Elyan is also a Seeker along with his sister and trains under Arthur to hone his fighting abilities. He does help Gwen with organizational matters concerning the Inquistion. Mordred is one of the few mages who also chose to fight as a knight of the Inquisiton. Other mages opted usually to use just magic and trained on their own. Mordred wanted the advantage of both swordskill and magic so he works twice as hard as anyone in Skyhold. He really makes Arthur rethink some of the values he’s been raised with all his life.

Anyway that’s where I’m leaving it because I’ve spent an hour on this. Haven’t even gotten to who would be the Inquistions Ambassador. Or anything about Greywardens or who the Hero of Fereldan was or if Hawke is still just Hawke or if I replace the Champion of Kirkwall with another Merlin character. Might screw around and make a part 2 who knows.

[uniasus]

The Support Of Lancelot DuLac

"Falling back into old habits already?"

Merlin hastily stood at Lance's voice, pulling his old friend into a hug.

He'd seen all of them, but he'd only spent time so far with Gwen and Gaius. Now here was Lancelot, the first knight gone, breathing between his arms. Merlin held on tight, but Lance didn't seem to mind. He held Merlin gently in return.

Eventually, Merlin let go, brushing tears off his face. "I missed you."

"Oh, Merlin." Lance placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a tender smile. Lance didn't share the sentiment; the dead can't miss the living. "I'm sorry I put you through that."

"Not enough to not go through the veil. I would have been fine. We all would have been fine." Merlin crossed his arms, huffing.

"You don't know that."

Merlin sighed. Lance was right.

"Plus," the knight continued, "Look at what you did! You helped Arthur, you changed the course of Camelot. You became its king! Oh, don't be embarrassed."

Lance caught Merlin's chin and gently guided it straight. Merlin kept his eyes down, fighting a blush.

"The stories the others have of you, Merlin. You and Leon in battle. How you used magic to help the kingdom. Percival has so many stories of you as king. I'm glad Camelot got to see how good and brave you are."

"I forgot how sappy you are." Merlin pulled free, pleased and proud and red like a tomato. 1,500 years later, and attention still made him uncomfortable. Even once married, Gwen kept nudging him to speak up. Percival used to force him, calling for his opinion in meetings and ensuring a dozen people focused on Merlin's words.

Like Lance, Gwen had tried to praise him into a higher self-confidence, but it never worked. Oh, Merlin could rule. Could stand proud and think for others and plan. No matter how long he spent in the light though, he'd grown up in the shadows. Hiding from one person or another, keeping a myriad of secrets. He went right back at it too, after leaving Camelot.

And here he was, hiding again, even after Gwen's talk of leading the knights together.

Trees, he had no idea what Arthur's thoughts on that were. He ran a hand through his hair, sitting on the front step of his cottage-that-was-now-secretly-a-mansion. Lance settled beside him.

"You're out here, pulling away and letting them direct things like the old days. Why, Merlin?"

"Like you said, old habits."

"Very old habits, I'd guess. I'm not the only one looking for you, and yet I'm the one who found you. This isn't the steps of Camelot, but it'll do."

Merlin snorted. "This really isn't the steps to the citadel." Those had been tall, wide, white stone. The steps to Merlin's door numbered one and it was made of wood.  "I found other places to hide after, after Camlann. They all knew of my magic so I could indulge it a bit more. Walk through the gardens, ride a horse to a clearing. It's helped that Gwen had a lot fewer assassination attempts than Arthur. I could take more breaks outside the castle."

Beside him, Lancelot hummed. Merlin wished the pizza would show up.

Oh, he'd missed Lancelot terribly. He'd missed them all. He'd moved past that, but the old ache sprung up today. Worse than that, though, might be the feeling of once again being surrounded by people. Oh, people he loved. People he would do anything for. But Merlin found himself not knowing how to act. With Lance, it was easy. Lance had only known one version of Merlin and that's who Merlin could be with him. But with Elyan? Gwaine? Arthur? He'd never been completely open with them, and now they were learning Merlin had magic and ruled Camelot for over forty years.

"Did Arthur truly do nothing for you?" Lance asked.

Merlin snapped his head around. "What?"

"You said you never sat at Arthur's Round Table earlier. Did he do anything for you?"

Merlin sighed. "You know he did. He stuck up for me, gave me a raise once or twice. Listened to me, occasionally. The dollophead."

"But he never saw you as more than a servant. Even if he saw you as a friend, you were the friend who worked for him."

Merlin bit his lip.

That was the harsh truth of it. Sometimes it bothered Merlin, but he didn't mind too much. He liked being Arthur's manservant. Lance, however, always saw something more in Merlin, more than anyone prior to Camlann. Noble and chivalrous, Lance believed in being kind and rewarding those who deserved it. In his mind, Merlin deserved so, so much.

"He didn't know about the magic."

"I wasn't made a knight because I have magic."

"No, you were knighted because you were loyal and helped win back the kingdom."

"I remember you doing the same."

"Lance, drop it."

"Fine. But only because I know what you got what you deserved eventually."

"Thank you."

They sat in silence, looking out at the woods. Lance's stomach growled.  He blushed and Merlin laughed.

"Gaius said you sent for food?"

"Pizza, yeah. Should be here soon."

"I'm glad you and Percival became friends," Lance said. "When I meet him, he was so shy. He clung to me when we first traveled together. Eager for a friend. He found a lot of them in Camelot."

"And a wife," Merlin smirked. "Tiffy would bat her eyelashes at him and he'd do anything."

"I'll have to get him to tell me about her."

"Mmmhmm."

"You know," Lance said slowly, "I thought you'd be more upset at me for what happened at the Isle of the Blessed. You were so determined that it would be you. That last thing I remember was you yelling after me."

Merlin blinked as the memory hit him. Lance, catching his eye one final time. Lance, one foot in the veil. Lance, throwing his life away even as he saved Merlin's.

"Trees, I was at the time. But, that was what? A day ago for you? Max? But for me," Merlin shook his head. "I was angry for a day maybe. Mostly I was sad. And then I missed you. It was a long time ago. Years between that and Camlann. Centuries between Camlann and now. Missing you, missing all of you, was what I felt the most. Well, and wondering when you'd be back. That's all I care about now. That you're all here."

Lancelot clasped the far side of Merlin's head and pulled, bringing their foreheads together. "I'm not sorry."

"Yeah, I figured." Merlin smiled.

"But since you're falling into old habits again," Lance emphasized the phrase, encompassing all of Merlin's servanthood, "Camelot couldn't have been too long ago for you."

Lance sounded lighthearted, trying to steer the conversion into lighter ground but the words echoed in Merlin's chest.

"Oh, Lance. It… it really was." Merlin tried to blink away the tears before Lance noticed them, but this close it was a hopeless effort. Lance saw, but he said nothing and for that Merlin was grateful.

Merlin pulled away at the crunch of tires on gravel as the pizza delivery guy rounded a bunch of trees. His home was remote enough that they didn't usually deliver, but a magical nudge and a history of large tips persuaded them once in a while. Hopefully, the knights liked pizza.

Lance took half the boxes, Merlin the other. Percival held the door open for both men, even as Gwaine jogged out to take a few boxes off of Merlin's hands.

Merlin caught Lancelot's eye, and the knight gave him a look full of promise. Lance would push Merlin out of his old habits of hiding to think, hiding his burdens, doing things by himself. The knights would help, Gwen and Gaius would help.

No secrets, no lies amongst any of them. For the first time.

You'll take your place among us, Lance said with that gaze.

And indeed, as they gathered in the dining room to eat, round table in the backyard abandoned, Merlin found himself sitting at the end of the table, Arthur on one side, Gwen on the other.

[swanqueeneverafter]

The Once & Future Queen Pt.7

Camelot. Castle Gates. Night. (Standing outside the castle gates, Henry waits for Regina. Checking his watch, Henry decides to enter the town and find out what is keeping his mother.) Streets of Camelot. (Henry walks down the street carrying a torch. He hears a Dorocha approaching and finds a frozen-faced guard laying on the ground. Then he sees Regina lying near the guard.) Henry: “Mom!” (Dropping the torch, Henry hurries to his mother’s side, checking for signs of life. As he pulls Regina into his arms, a Dorocha charges Henry from behind. Defenseless, Henry braces for the inevitable but suddenly Regina raises her hand at the last moment, hurling a fireball at the spirit, causing it to disappear.) Regina: (Staring up at Henry, her voice hoarse:) “Let’s go home.”

Enchanted Forest. Past. (Mulan and Emma stand in the forest waiting for the fairies.) Mulan: "I still don't see how you could be so reckless. If you could’ve just kept it in your pants for a little longer, we would all be home by now." Emma: "Really? You think it's my fault we're here? Who was it that let Mordred get by them while they were on duty, huh? How about you talk about keeping it in your own damn pants!" Mulan: "All right, fine, I screwed up. But now Regina clearly has feelings for you so how are we supposed to leave here without breaking her heart and jeapardising our timeline?" Emma: (Her tone cold:) "You just concentrate on being where you're supposed to be and let me worry about my wife." Marketplace. (Regina makes her way through the town towards the tavern. Aladdin, who has successfully managed to ply his trade as a pickpocket amid his new surroundings, watches Regina as she passes. Ducking into a side street to count his haul of stolen items, Aladdin stumbles upon a conversation between a young girl and a stern sounding man.) Snow White: "I have reason to believe there is a plot against the King going on beneath your very nose, Sheriff." Sheriff: "My lady, I assure you nothing escapes my notice." Snow White: "Really? Then how was my stepmother able to travel to your part of town undetected?" Sheriff: "I'm sure the Queen is very capable when she puts her mind to something." Snow White: "The Queen has a suitor she meets regularly. I don't know who it is, but I tracked Regina down to a tavern once, I forget the name. Maybe you should start there?" Sheriff: "A tavern you say? (His eyes light up:) Oh I believe I know exactly where to start my search." (Listening in the shadows, Aladdin leaves his ill-gotten goods behind and hurries to warn the others.)

Seas of Meredor. Present. Morning. (Guinevere, Lancelot, Xena, Gabrielle and the Knights continue their journey.) Lancelot: (Looking out from a cliff edge:) “The Isle of the Blessed.” (The group take the ferryman’s boat to the isle and hear some screeching along the way.) Isle of the Blessed. (Stepping onto the isle, the screeching gets louder.) Sir Leon: “What is that?” (They all draw their swords.) Sir Gwaine: “I really hope I’m wrong.” (A wyvern flies down at them.) Lancelot: “Wyvern!” (More wyverns attack. Bedivere falls to the ground as he gets slashed.) Sir Bedivere: “You’re right!” (Xena steps over the fallen man and defends him from further attack.) Gabrielle: “Xena! The chakram!” (Taking the weapon from her belt, Xena tosses the chakram to Gabrielle. Taking aim, Gabrielle hurls the razor sharp disc. Ricocheting off two walls, the chakram takes a slice out of each wyvern before returning to Gabrielle’s waiting hand.) Sir Gwaine: (Breathing heavy:) “See? That’s how you deal with them.” Guinevere: “We need to keep moving.” (They enter another passage and more wyverns fly overhead.) Sir Leon: “Your Majesty, you must go on! We’ll fend them off!” Xena: “He’s right, we’ve got this.” (Xena, Gabrielle, Leon, Bedivere and Elyan remain outside to handle the wyverns while Guinevere, Lancelot and Gwaine continue forward.) Sir Gwaine: “Good luck.”

Altar. (Lancelot leads Gwaine and Guinevere toward the stone altar to find the Cailleach waiting for them.) Cailleach: “It is not often we have visitors.” Lancelot: “Put an end to this.” Guinevere: “I demand you heal the tear between the two worlds.” Cailleach: “It was not I who created this horror. Why should it be I that stops it?” Guinevere: “Because innocent people are dying.” Cailleach: “Indeed. (Cailleach laughs maniacally. Gwaine charges her with his sword raised. She throws him back with magic, knocking him out:) Is this the best you can do?” Lancelot: “I know what you want.” Cailleach: “Do you? And are you willing to let me have it?” Lancelot: “I’m prepared to pay whatever price is necessary.” (Cailleach motions for Lancelot to come to her. Lancelot walks resolutely toward her but is stopped by Guinevere.) Guinevere: “Stop. I can’t let you do this.” Lancelot: “I must. The Siege Perilous has remained empty for too long.” Guinevere: “You’re doing this for a chair?” Lancelot: (Chuckles:) “No, I’m doing this for Camelot. And you are Camelot, Guinevere.” Guinevere: “How can I live and rule without you?” Lancelot: “The same way you do everything. With dignity, compassion and grace.” (They kiss. Taking Guinevere’s hand, they approach the altar together to stand beside Cailleach.)  Cailleach: “So, Lancelot, will you give yourself to the spirits to save your people?” Lancelot: “It is my destiny.” Cailleach: “Perhaps. But your time among men is not yet over, even if you want it to be.” (Lancelot is confused. Cailleach looks at the tear in the veil and both Guinevere and Lancelot follow her gaze. Robin Hood is standing at the brink. He looks back at them with a smile and then walks into the shrieking veil.) Guinevere: “No!” (The veil closes. Guinevere and Lancelot now stand alone with the unconscious Gwaine at their feet.)

Robin’s Tavern. Past. (Robin stands alone in the tavern as the Sheriff arrives with some of his men.) The Sheriff: "Business a little slow? Well, I hope that didn't prevent you from making the money that you owe.” Robin Hood: “I don't have any money for you.” The Sheriff: “Well, normally I’d say debtor's prison would be a fine place for you to think about what you've done, but there may be another way for you to clear your debts.” Robin Hood: “I’m flattered, but you’re not my type.” The Sheriff: “Funny man. No, I thought you may want to avoid jail by handing over the Queen’s lover.” Robin Hood: “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” The Sheriff: “My spies tell me you have two new occupants upstairs so there’s no point denying it. The princess would also be most grateful for your co-operation in this matter.” Robin Hood: “Is that so?” The Sheriff: “Yes, indeed.” Robin Hood: “Hm. Well that’s where you and me are different, Sheriff. I would never sell out my friends. But then again, I don’t suppose you have any?” (Before the Sheriff can reply, Marian and the Merry Men surround him.) The Sheriff: “Brigands! Seize them!” (Outnumbered, his men do not move.) Robin Hood: “You were right about me, Nottingham. Thieving is in my blood. But how to be a thief with honour? I think I've learned the answer... By stealing from those who have too much and giving it to those who have too little.” Meanwhile... (Having been warned by Aladdin and gathered their meager belongings, Mulan and Emma climb out of their adjacent bedroom windows and jump down to the street below. Taking a moment to wave farewell to Robin, they make a run for it back towards the forest.) Regina: (Calling out:) "Emma!" Emma: "Regina!" Regina: "What's going on?" Emma: "It's Snow, she's called the cops on us." Regina: (Frowns:) "The cops?" Mulan: "She means the Sheriff and his men." Emma: "Robin's holding him off for now, but we won't have long." Mulan: "We have to go, now!" Regina: "Go? Go where?" Emma: "Into the forest. Tinker Bell should be waiting for us there by now." Regina: "But..." Mulan: "Emma, come on! (With her head telling her that she shouldn't, but knowing in her heart that she must, Emma grabs Regina's hand and pulls her along with them:) What the hell are you doing?!" Emma: "Just shut up and keep running!"

Morgana’s Hovel. Present. (Morgana screams and smashes some of her possessions.) Agravaine: “They were lucky.” Morgana: “And Regina?” Agravaine: “It was only by chance that her son found her.” Morgana: “No, you’re wrong. We were not thwarted by luck, it was Merlin!” Agravaine: “Merlin?” Morgana: “The Cailleach warned me about him. She said he was my destiny and my doom. It was he that thwarted us, I’m sure of it.” Agravaine: “So what’s to be done?” Morgana: “As long as he exists, I will never gain what is rightfully mine. (Morgana turns to Agravaine:) You must help me find this Merlin. And destroy him.” (Morgana steps away and Agravaine takes in a breath. Walking over to the other side of the hovel, Agravaine peers down what appears to be a large pit. At the bottom of the pit sits Drizella, who is shivering. Picking up a blanket, Agravaine tosses it down to her before turning to leave. Grabbing the blanket and wrapping it around herself, Drizella thinks about what she’s just overheard.)

Enchanted Forest. Past. (Running deep into the forest, Emma, Regina and Mulan stop for breath.) Emma: "Where the hell are they?" Mulan: "What does it matter? We can't leave like this." Tiger Lily: (Stepping out from behind some trees:) "I'm afraid we can't leave at all." (Tiger Lily steps aside to reveal Tinker Bell, who lowers her hood.) Tinker Bell: "Blue took my wings. I'm so sorry, you guys." Regina: "Took your wings? Because of the parade?" Tinker Bell: "I assume so. She said I had discipline issues." Mulan: "Well that's just great. Now how the hell are we supposed to get home?" Tiger Lily: "Mulan..." Mulan: "No! You said you could train Tink and get her ready. You knew this would happen and still you wouldn't use the wand to get us home." Tiger Lily: "We agreed that-" Mulan: "I didn't agree! I asked you the very first night whether you could use Tink's wand and you said it would be better to train her to do it. Well is this better?!" Emma: "It wouldn't have mattered-" Mulan: "And you!" Regina: (Stepping forward:) "Hey! (Shoving Mulan backwards:) Back off!" (Mulan instinctively moves towards her, but stops when Regina conjures a fireball into her hand.) Emma: "All right, that's enough. I need to think." Mulan: "Ha! Just try to think with your head this time and not with what's between your legs." (Letting her emotions get the best of her, Emma emits a pulse of energy, knocking Mulan backwards onto the ground. Both fairies rush to check on her.) Regina: "Emma... you have magic?" Emma: (Awkwardly:) "Yeah..." Regina: "Why didn't you tell me?" Emma: (Sighs:) "There's a lot I haven't told you. A lot I can't tell you, but know this... I have never loved anyone like-" Snow White: "There they are!" (All eyes turn towards Snow White as she rides in at the head of an entire platoon of palace guards.) Snow White: "Seize them! They have the Queen!" Emma: "Oh god, what do we do?" Regina: "Go. Run, I'll hold them off." Emma: "But what-" Regina: "I've seen how this turns out. I've already lost one love because of that child, I will not lose another." Emma: "Regina, you’ll never lose me." Regina: "Please! I couldn't bear it if anything happened to you. (Realising they have no choice, Emma grabs Regina and pulls her in for one last kiss:) I'll love you forever." Emma: (Gripping Regina's hands in her own:) "Meet me in Storybrooke." (Holding on for as long as she can before the guards reach them, Emma finally releases Regina's hands and joins the others. Regina watches breathlessly while several riders speed past her. Catching one last glimpse of Emma, Regina smiles at her just as Emma uses her magic to poof them all out of sight. Still smiling at the spot where Emma vanished, Regina's demeanour quickly hardens when Snow White catches up to her.) Snow White: "Regina, are you all right?" Regina: (Wiping away her tears:) "I'm fine." Snow White: "You're safe now." Regina: (Nods:) "Yes, she is." Snow White: “What did you say?” Regina: “I said, thank you.” (Regina smiles up at her, but there is no warmth behind her eyes. All that is left is coldness and heartbreak.)

[youngster-monster]

yellow rose - jealousy

A royal anniversary is the event of the year. Nobles from all over the land flock back to the court just to be seen. Unfortunately for Arthur that means he has to attend, since it’s his wedding they’re celebrating.

Doesn’t mean he has to like it.

He puts on a smile and hooks his arms with Guinevere's, politely thanking the people who come up to them with presents and well-wishes. Currently they’re caught in a conversation with a Duke — he is rhapsodizing about how lovely their union was, what charming couple they make, what an example of loyalty and devotion they are to the rest of them. All lies, of course. Arthur and Guinevere are hardly the loving couple he paints them as: everyone knows this was only a political alliance, helped along by the fondness the two held for each other once upon a time.

Nowadays it’s harder to keep up the pretense that they’re in love with each other.

Arthur catches Guinevere’s gaze lifting from the Duke’s face, drifting towards the back of the room. He follows suit and finds Lancelot, pale armor seeming to glow faintly in the candlelight. As if silently called by his lady’s attention, the knight looks up and smiles blindingly at her. She answers in kind.

The Duke must believe it’s directed at him because he flounders for a moment, a blush creeping up his cheeks. Arthur thanks him one last time for his kind words and glance meaningfully away. The Duke scampers. Guinevere pulls them towards the floor space that’s been cleared up for dancing before anyone else can approach them for another one-way discussion.

It does, incidentally, bring them closer to where Lancelot stands.

Next to him Gawain raises his cup in salute and discreetly elbows Lancelot into covering his besotted smile somewhat. Arthur responds with a nod, lips tugging upwards at his friends’ antics.

“How long until we can sneak out?” Guinevere whispers only for his ears.

He leads her into as graceful a spin as he can muster and ducks his head to hide a grimace. “Who knows. Hours, probably, until they are bored of seeing us and send us on our way to… properly celebrate.”

She makes a noise somewhere between disgust and annoyance. He can’t help but agree to the sentiment. He glances up, assessing the crowd still gathered in the room. Gowns glitter under the lights, gilded and colorful. Then among them he glimpses the sight of a figure clad in black. He’s keeping to the edges of the crowd but Arthur would recognize Maleagant anywhere, even in the low light, among what looks like the entire noble population of the country.

The music shifts then and he almost trips. Guinevere catches him and makes it look as if nothing happened, though she meaningfully rolls her eyes at him. The sheepish smile she gets in return placates her but he knows he will hear about this later. She does like to mock him for his puppy-like reaction to the prince of Gore’s presence.

Finally, the song fades out and they are free to stop dancing. A blessing for Guinevere, who risks her life at every moment with him as a partner. With all the attention on them it feels right to lean down and press a kiss at the edge of her lips, just close enough to make it seem genuine. She rests her hand against his face and gives him a secret little smile.

“He’s looking at you,” she says, eyes darting above his shoulder.

Ah. He’s going to hear about this later. No matter: it’s not like Maleagant isn’t aware of their charade, or what it takes to keep it believable.

“Why don’t you go see your knight, and I’ll do the boring part of our royal duty and go greet the heir of the neighboring kingdom?”

“Boring, right.”

Guinevere draws back from him and gives him a wink before turning in a whirlwind of bright fabric and disappearing into the crowd. Lancelot, seeing her alone, immediately drifts away from the other knights and meets her halfway.

When he turns around, Arthur wishes Maleagant would do the same. There’s an awful lot of people between the two of them and he could use the help crossing the distance. But the other man is seemingly deep in conversation with Leodegrance and either hasn’t noticed Arthur’s approach or doesn’t care.

It takes time, what with everyone wishing to stop him to wish him many more years of a happy marriage, before Arthur finally reaches the two men. Only then does Maleagant deign to look at him. Arthur warned him that they shouldn’t interact too much in public lest people notice something is amiss. Apparently, Maleagant took it as an encouragement to go back to the way he acted before they grew closer.

Namely: making Arthur’s life harder just for the fun of it.

He manages to make bowing look respectful to all who watches them warily except to Arthur, who clearly sees it as the sarcastic gesture it is. Maleagant only bends the knee when he wants to, not when decorum says he should, and usually in a more… intimate context.

“My liege,” he greets, looking at Arthur through long, dark lashes. The way his lips curl in a grin when Arthur swallows audibly reminds him of a cat playing with a mouse.

The rest of the short conversation is a blur of social graces and, on Maleagant’s part, thinly-veiled innuendos. Arthur leaves before his attention can be taken as a show of favor, though they would be right in assuming this. He can’t help but feel the weight of Maleagant’s eyes on the back of his neck as he goes, gently mocking.

That night, he’s waiting for Arthur in his room.

Fortunately Guinevere is already gone, spirited away by Lancelot as soon as they stepped into the relative secrecy of the castle’s dark corridors. The two never got along. A mix between past grievances and personal resentment he would need years of context to properly understand. Maleagant insists that it’s because Guinevere cheated on Arthur, even though he’s not protective or righteous enough to care, and Guinevere claims he’s scary and untrustworthy, which isn’t wrong but lacks nuance. Arthur much prefers staying out of it and keeping their interactions away from the public eye at a bare minimum.

When Arthur opens the doors to his personal quarters he’s sitting in front of the fireplace, drinking some of his expensive wine and staring into the flames. His black armor is scattered around the room, dropped where he shed it, leaving him looking oddly vulnerable in his underclothes. Arthur rarely gets to see him like this. Usually they’re either in full armor or naked and there is little time for the in-between.

He looks up at the sound of the door gently closing. He finishes his wine, puts the glass down and rises smoothly. He doesn’t so much walk as prowl towards Arthur, pushing him against the door until he’s pinned.

“Hi,” Arthur squeaks.

Maleagant’s lips brush against his neck, up to his jaw, trailing a line of warmth all the way to his ear. His hot breath washes over his skin. “Hello, Arthur,” he says. His voice, low and dark, sends a shiver down Arthur’s spine. “Leaving your lawfully wedded wife so early in the night? What will the court think, I wonder.”

He doesn’t actually get the opportunity to respond to the rhetorical question. Maleagant sinks his teeth into the sensible skin just behind his jaw. Arthur’s gasp morphs into a breathless little moan as he sucks a bruise into his neck, marking him for all to see.

“I don’t think I have a collar high enough to cover that,” he complains halfheartedly.

“Then don’t. Let them see you’re mine, even as they believe you’re hers.” Maleagant presses a light kiss against the new bruise, then another on Arthur’s cheekbone, a third just under his eyes. He stops a hair’s breadth from his mouth.

Arthur breaches the gap himself, surging to capture Maleagant’s lips with his even as he grips the back of his neck to pull him impossibly closer. Maleagant goes easily, chuckling into the kiss. This time, when he bites to Arthur’s lip it’s gentle. Not enough to truly hurt, but enough to distract him from the hand trailing down his body for a second. He’s reminded of it when it dips under his pants, fingers digging into the soft flesh of his hips.

He breaks the kiss with a sigh and lets his arms hang around Maleagant’s shoulders for a moment as he catches his breath. Eventually he says, “Bed?”

The other man thinks about it, eyes hungrily roaming Arthur’s face as if by burning every detail of it in his memory he would make it his more than Guinevere’s. As if it weren’t already the case.

He nods and the desire in his eyes turns into deviousness. Before Arthur can notice the change he’s hoisted him up in his arms in a bridal carry. His strong arms take the weight of the king easily and it doesn’t take him much effort to carry Arthur to the bed and drop him on top of the soft sheets. He follows him down, settling on top of Arthur.

“The things I want to do to you,” he whispers, sounding almost amazed by whatever he’s seeing in Arthur at the moment.

He fights down a blush and lets his eyes fall half-closed, watches Maleagant through his lashes. “We have all night,” he says. “Why don’t you show me?”

[suescamander]

Cost of the Crown

The stars are very beautiful, above the palace walls,

They shine with equal splendour, still above far humbler halls.

I watch them from my window, but their bright entrancing glow,

Reminds me of the freedom I gave up so long ago.

Arthur stood at the window of his chambers, staring up to the night sky, illuminated only by the bright glow of the stars.

He used to love the stars. When he was still the prince rather than king. But now... Now they made him feel melancholic. They reminded him of nights spend outside, watching the stars, not worrying about anything more than how to improve his fighting skills. They reminded him of moonlight kisses, of happy smiles, being happy in general. They reminded him of how it felt, not having to worry about everything, not having to mourn death and misery.

He still loved the stars, they were beautiful after all. If only they wouldn't bring memories crashing down, memories to compare with how he felt now. Memories who made him crave to turn back time, longing for that much easier life he had.

The Royal circlet of bright gold rests lightly on my brow,

I once thought only of the rights this circlet would endow.

But once I took the crown, to which I had been schooled and bred,

I found it heavy on the heart, though light upon the head.

There was a glimmer visible from his bedside table. Arthur practically felt the light pressure his crown usually put on his head. It wasn't heavy. Not this one at least, it was his daily one, not the big ceremonial crown. And even that one was manageable. Especially if one was used to it. And that he was.

That crown also reminded him of his earlier days. But, opposing to the familiar glow of the stars, his crown brought back memories of how foolish he had been. How arrogant. What a prat he had been, entitled by his, well, title as prince of Camelot. He was lucky, having found someone to show him his bratty behaviour. But still - he had looked forward to being crowned. Once again he wished for the ability to turn back time. To prepare his younger self for the pain that would shadow his coronation, the pain and loss that was about to come.

Although I am the head of state, in truth I am the least,

The true Queen knows her people fed, before she sits to feast.

The good Queen knows her people safe, before she takes her rest,

Thinks twice and thrice and yet again, before she makes request.

For they are all my children,all, that I swore to defend,

It is my duty to become both Queen and trusted friend.

And of my children high and low, from beggar to above,

The dearest are my Heralds, who return my care with love.

He always thought as king everything would go like he wanted it to. He thought he could do as he pleased. But he quickly had to learn that everything he did as king was for his people. He realized that his personal interests always came at last - hence why he waited so long to finally accept that his personal interests were the only thing that mattered in terms of his love life.

In hindsight he knew that he should have made the step earlier, for a happy king leads to a happy kingdom.

He glanced down at his left hand, catching sight of the shimmering silver decorating his finger. The slightest hint of a smile stole itself on his face, only to vanish a second later.

He got his happiness. Others didn't. He, as king, was supposed to ensure the safety of his people. He was supposed to make sure they were alright. It was more or less his job to enable all of them, no matter which social rank they hold, to live their life safely.

But most important to him were his knights. The people who stood with him. Who were his friends, his advisors. Who loved him.

The dearest are my Heralds, swift to spring to my command.

Who give me aid and fellowship, who always understand

That land and people first have needs that I may not deny.

So I must send my dearest friends to danger—and to die.

A friend, a love, a child—it matters not, I know indeed,

That I must sacrifice them all if there should be the need.

They know, and they forgive me—doing more than I require,

With willing minds and loving hearts go straight to grasp the fire.

His knights. His warriors, his insurance. The people who fought beside him, who died next to him. They understood the risks of being a knight. They understood that they might not return from one of the trips, but still came with him, still fought, still died. They understood that the well-being of Camelot was more important than a single life - or hundreds for that matter. His friends still stood beside him, and he might once have to send them to death. The dearest of his knights were the knights of the Round Table. The knights who went through so many dangers with him. And, oh lord, how many did he sent to ruin?

Lancelot. Sacrificed and later used to destroy Arthurs trust in Gwen, who he had been wanting to marry because she knew about him and his secrets. Arthur never wanted to cast her away. She was truly in love with Lance, but had been ready to cover as Arthurs wife. And because of that, her love was ripped away in the most cruel manner he could have imagined. He did not only lose Lancelot, the most loyal out of all of them, he also destroyed one of his dearest friends in the process because he wasn't brave enough to face his council about his love life.

Elyan. Another person dear to Gwen. Died trying to save his sister, who had been captured and tortured to hurt Arthur.

And at last - Gwaine and Percival. Gwaine - Merlins best friend, died because Morgana had tortured him to get go know their location. Died while trying to help Merlin save Arthur. Died believing he failed at it. And died, leaving Percival behind. They hadn't been official, though on the best way to it. Percival wasn't the same, still shocked, for it hadn't been a day since Gwaine passed away directly in front of him.

The worst part of it all, it had been Arthur who sent them, no, led them  in the missions that cost them their lives or loved ones. It had been Arthur who had doomed them.

These tears that burn my eyes are all the tears the Queen can't shed,

The tears I weep in silence as I mourn my Heralds dead.

Oh gods that dwell beyond the stars, if you can hear my cry—

And if you have compassion—let me send no more to die!

As Arthur stood there, gazing at the stars, re-living all the terrible things that happend to those close to him, tears welled up in his eyes. He spiralled into questions of what if? and tried to cope with everything, especially with the things happening the last days. A lot had happened - he almost died, hadn't it been for Merlin, he lost Gwaine and so many more in Camlann, and Arthur found himself doubting every single one of his decisions as king.

Could he have prevented Morgana from ripping the veil between the worlds to save Lance? Could he have protected Gwen from being kidnapped and tortured at the Black Tower? Could he have prevented Mordred from turning on him? Could he...

A quiet rustle shook him from his thoughts, followed by light tapping of bare feet on the cold stone floor. Arthur didn't turn around. "What are you doing out of bed? You need rest, you just survived being stabbed!" Arthur still didn't react. Arms went around his waist from behind, a chin came resting on his right shoulder. The king glanced down at the hands on his stomach, catching the sight of a thin silver band matching his. He still didn't say anything, but he put his hands on his spouse's, thankful of the constance he provided. His consort gave him a reassuring squeeze, and Arthur led out a sigh.

"It's just... It is my fault. Gwaine. Lance. Elyan. All the others." He finally failed to restrain the tears that threatened to spill out of his eyes, and his love was there to steady him. "Shh... It's alright. It's not your fault, Arthur." The king turned around. "It is, Merlin, and you know it! They're dead because of me. It's my fault, my guilt to carry. I send so many good people to die. It's... it's the Cost of the Crown, I think." The sorcerer, his husband, raised his hands to wipe away the tears. "You don't have to carry that weight alone, Arthur. You can share it with me. Just like we do with everything else." Arthur nodded slightly, though still doubting himself. "And please, Arthur, it's not your fault they died. They died for what they believed would grow to be the greatest kingdom to ever exist. They died to make sure you could fulfill your destiny. You can mourn them, you can weep over them, it's alright and simply human, but Arthur, I'm begging you, don't let what happened destroy you." Arthur rested his forehead against his husband's. "You're right. I'll try."

"Good. And now you're coming back to bed and won't move out there until I say so, because I don't want you catching an illness and dying of it, I didn't drag you through the forest for nothing, dear." Arthur let out a small chuckle and let himself be pulled back to the bed and tucked into the sheets, Merlin climbing in and drawing him close.

"Thank you, Merlin. I love you. I always will." Merlin snuggled up further into his chest. "I love you too. And Arthur?" "Hmm?" "It's alright to mourn and grief. You don't need to hide it. We all miss them. But doubting everything you did won't bring them back. It'll only hurt you, and that's the exact opposite of what they would want. Take all the time you need to cope. You can share the weight with my, Arthur. After all, I didn't become Crown Consort for nothing, now, did I?" Arthur draw Merlin even closer after that, pressing a kiss into his husband's hair. "No, you didn't. And I am beyond thankful for that."

[cinnbar-bun]

Siegfried is Actually A Demonic Otherworld Dragon (100% Real!! NOT FAKE!!!)

Everyone, it’s time. Put on your tinfoil hats peeps, and I’ll reveal the TOTAL TRUTH ON SIEGFRIED. Reveals spoilers for JJBA AND SOME GBF THINGS

For starters, I want to show you something.

This is Siegfried when he was first revealed. Okay. Legit. Dudes been on the run. Definitely would look like he’s been not sleeping for over a hundred years.

Then look at this:

Do you see something strange?

Hm? Maybe it’s the fact that he looks... younger, even?

He permed his hair and dyed it a lighter caramel, and somehow got rid of his bags? Sorry. I don’t buy it.

But you know what I do buy?

He sucked the life force out of his enemies and victims and made himself younger. Let me tell you a story.

Long ago, an asshole enigmatic nobleman, Dio Brando, wears the stone mask and becomes a vampire. As a vampire, he sustains his life force and youthful appearance by sucking the life energy of his victims.

Simple vampire stuff.

But the creator of the stone mask is one of the most prominent Pillar Men ever, Kars.

See something familiar? The long hair? The bulging muscles?

What if I enlightened you ignorant fools and said they had the same voice.

Kars=Siegfried.

You might be a bit confused, but all shall be explained soon.

Kars, after getting the Stone of Aja and placing it on the mask, becomes the Ultimate Lifeform. He has the ability to control nature itself and turn into whatever he would like (ie, he can grow wings like a bird). How is this relevant-ITS VERY RELEVANT BECAUSE KARS HAS BECOME SO POWERFUL AND UNSTOPPABLE. SO MUCH POWER IN AN ALREADY POWERFUL MAN WHO CAN DO SO MUCH DAMAGE AND PRACTICALLY DESTROY THE WORLD WITH HIS MERE HANDS.

At the end though, it doesn’t last long and he gets blown to space, where he becomes a rock and floats for eternity and stops thinking.

OR SO WE ARE MADE TO BELIEVE

Do you really think a god could merely be stopped like that? I highly doubt such an object in space could remain passively existing there.

But as GBF has shown us-there is a way a God could continue. How?

THE MOON PEOPLE.

The Moon People, from what Second Advent has shown us, is very technologically advanced and promotes efficiency, work, and advancements over ‘inefficient’ things like love, leisure, and enjoyment.

IF KARS WAS FLOATING IN SPACE, I BELIEVE THE MOON PEOPLE CAPTURED HIM AND TOOK HIM IN TO RESEARCH HIM.

Kars has stopped thinking by that point probably, but because it was stated he could not die, he still has some parts of his soul in him. Second Advent also showed us that due to moon research, people are able to transfer consciousness into a vessel/another host (see Alandus).

My proposal is that the Moon People wished to create a powerful vessel that they could study and use to enhance their own race.

But, I’m going to take it a step further. It was simply too much to create a creature that powerful, furthermore, they would need something to transfer Kar’s soul into.

I mean, I dunno if any of y’all ever seen Shadow the Hedgehog, but Shadow was created by combining the blood of an alien named Black Doom with the power of the chaos emeralds and stuff. Same gist over here.

The Moon People, wanting to test their limits, made a pact with an Otherworld creature in order to gain some of their blood to help revive the vessel they would use to research. The Otherworld creatures work and deal in lives/souls. Think Dark Jeanne and Aglovale. Sacrifice is needed to keep the vessel going.

So, the Moon People, after finally creating this creature, try to deal with it but find it’s much too chaotic and too uncontrollable to deal with, so they send it to live amongst the skydom. It is equally as chaotic and unpredictable as the vessel they made, so they try to study it in hopes of seeing different results they never would have before.

Now here’s where shot gets crazy. I’m gonna take a page out of @tainbocuailnge ‘s book and borrow their theory about FGO Siegfried being Fafnir and apply it to here.

Basically, the vessel the Moon People and Otherworld creatures worked to create is Fafnir. Of course, since the Otherworld creatures demand sacrifice and ‘balance’ they decide to go ahead and transfer a bit of Fafnir’s power into a knight that tries to slay it. Fafnir is simply too destructive to exist on its own, and they need to create something that can be capable of defeating that destruction.

The knight that comes is ‘Siegfried’ or basically, what he was before he became the Siegfried we know and love today. Siegfried ‘slays’ Fafnir, although as we later find out that he simply sealed it away (more on that later). The knight that exits is not the ‘Siegfried’ he was before, but instead a new, reborn and potentially powerful creature that the Otherworld can use.

Siegfried tries to be the good knight he was before, but due to the Otherworld blood in him, he too has his moments of chaotic feelings and emotions. The Otherworld knows this.

Siegfried, now paraded as a hero, can freely live his life and continue to be the ‘savior’ everyone wants him to be. He now has the ability to infiltrate and gain trust of those around him. The Otherworld’s desire to take control has him act as a loyal Knight and Commander to King Josef and all of Feendrache. He can’t go exploiting his cover too soon. Not when there’s just so many things he needs to do.

But, since like I said before, to maintain his life force, he needs energy from other people. He can’t just exist at full strength and do what he needs, nor can he just drink peoples life energy away.

So he continues on, doing his best to carry out King Josef’s will. In that time, he finds out about Isabella, and the two co-conspire. In exchange for helping her get rid of Josef, she will offer him human sacrifices. They both have their own ideals, but realize they can’t do it alone and need to gain Josef’s full trust.

Siegfried manages to, as Josef entrusted him with the location of a secret passage/stairwell that leads to a jail cell where prisoners could secretly be out there without anyone knowing.

Then comes the day when Isabella murders Josef and frames Siegfried. This is a part of their plan. Isabella plans to kill Josef, frame Siegfried, and have him go on the run. While he’s on the run, he can form black-market level connections and discreetly find out about other kingdoms and magical/powerful things that can help in their quest for power. Isabella then becomes King Carl’s advisor and plays him like a puppet, while Siegfried’s name was slandered.

Notice, Siegfried always brings up his loyalty to Feendrache, but I want to show THIS evidence that proves otherwise.

After Lancelot, Vane, and Danchou go down the staircase and find the village Chief as well as Siegfried, this convo appears.

Siegfried basically admits that at any point in time, he could’ve broken them out. He has the power to stop the knights trying to fight them, he has the power to break the villagers out, and he knew they were in there the whole time.

And yet, for years, he did nothing.

Would a hero reaaaalllyyy do that? Why would he simply leave them there?

Like I said earlier, he has the power to do so, and the following cutscenes literally show him beating them with ease.

This, much like most of Siegfried’s appearances, is to seem like a hero and continue his facade of a valiant and strong warrior.

Consider, also, he knew about Aglovale, and did nothing to stop him earlier until war was about to break out.

Siegfried does this routinely to make himself appear trustworthy. The more people who trust him, the more powerful he can become. The more powerful he is, the more he can enact the will of the Otherworld creatures and do what he was created to all along- Test Potential. He was created to continuously overpower himself again and again, doing feats seemingly impossible with a calm and demure smile.

The moments he spends with his Dirt Kids are to distract from the obviously shady person he is. I mean, hell, his behavior even continues with Danchou too. Just because you are nice and trustworthy, it doesn’t mean shit to him.

In the Dragon Knights skin, the description says:

“Every gentleman knows that stepping out in style requires both polish and an eye for fashion. The contrast in the dark and light theme lends to the attire's mature calm and allure. And while a cool expression may veil one's true intentions, a simple bouquet of deep red roses whispers secretly of love.”

I mean, ‘a cool expression may veil one’s true intentions’-INCREDIBLY SHADY. And also, notice the mention of ‘contrast in the dark and light’. Also shady.

Look at his outfit closely. Most colors are used to symbolize different things, and usually, white represents purity, while black usually represents dark and more repulsive emotions.

His coat is WHITE. When you wear a coat, you’re concealing your body from the cold. In this case, it’s symbolistic for Siegfried acting on his facade as a pure righteous hero, defending justice and being loyal to those whom he serves.

But it’s not the full trust, as Siegfried is wearing a black suit, and notice, one of his hands (concealed with a white glove too), is in his pockets. The other hand, carrying a bouquet of roses, is concealed in his slouched form, partially covered by his coat.

He’s using you. Saying ‘I love you’, as to convince you that he’s there for you and cares for you. He is. But not for the reason you want.

As you’re the Singularity, you have potential. You have the potential to exceed potential, each time overpowering what was thought to be impossible. I mean, plenty of creatures/characters were interested in your potential.

But, by this theory, Siegfried was created to exceed potential as well. You are a perfect example of what potential is, and he craves for that kind of power that you could have. He loves your potential, the power you could provide, the change you can make.

If he could just grasp your potential, perhaps even take your life energy, he could become the powerful entity he was always meant to be.

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

A rogue Druid’s “please join us” speech to Merlin triggers a few things:

Gwaine tries to commit regicide, Leon confronts his (understandable) fear of Dragons, and Merlin has a full on mental breakdown.

The knights are left to pick up the pieces and all of them consider following Gwaine’s lead.

ANGSTY ANGSTY 

TW: Blood, death, nightmares. Physical and verbal abuse. A very brief implication of potential suicide/self harm.

Everyone notices the sudden changes within the group, it would be hard not to notice.

No one has any clue what happened though.

One day, everything is fine. If they think back, they realise Merlin had seemed a little... nervous? Maybe? But other than that, everything was fine, normal.

But the next day? From then until now, a month later? Everything was different.

Arthur seemed much angrier. He flew off the handle over the smallest mistakes, he worked the knights so hard in training that at least three of them had to go to Gaius for treatment everyday, and he didn’t seem like he planned on letting up any time soon. He snapped at everyone, even Gwen and Gaius, which was unheard of.

Merlin seemed... quieter. The knights, Gwen, and Gaius barely saw him, but when they did, he flinched at even the slightest noise; his eyes constantly darted around, looking for a way to escape, and he wouldn’t let anyone touch him.

They were worried, but Arthur was so constantly furious that no one dared bring it up with him, and the one time they tried to ask Merlin, he came up with some ridiculous excuse and ran away. They thought they had barely seen him before, but after that they didn’t see him at all for at least four days.

They also noticed how both of their worrying moods seemed ten times worse when they were with each other. Even just being in the same room, made Arthur angrier, and Merlin... they didn’t want to think it but... more scared.

After three weeks of this, they gathered together, and put into place their emergency plan. Leon would speak directly to Arthur, and Lancelot would speak directly to Merlin.

Of all of them, they were the most trusted by each target, and were the most likely to get answers, and the least likely to get a bad reaction if answers were refused.

They were... pretty wrong. Merlin reacted in the same way as he had to the group two and a half weeks ago. Which is odd, because he normally tells Lancelot everything, and not only did he not tell him, he lied and came up with excuses.

Leon was much worse for wear. He showed up a while after Lancelot, pale and miserable. Arthur had just yelled at him a bunch and assigned him extra patrols.

A few days later, they were all still struggling with what to do when Arthur informed them of a quest that was to be undertaken. They were... nervous, to say the least. Going on any sort of dangerous trip with Arthur in this state was bound to go badly, but they could hardly refuse, and they definitely couldn’t bring up the issue again.

So they resigned themselves to it. Gwen wished them luck, and made sure to give Merlin an extra tight hug before they left, and Gaius slipped a few extra medical supplies in each of the knights packs, just in case.

Apparently, patrols of Camelot Knights kept going missing. Whole groups of soldiers, in one very specific area near the border, were just not coming back.

Arthur could hardly justify sending more patrols out, so despite his foul mood, and his desperation to stay away from everyone, he took himself, his five best knights, and his manservant.

Elyan could’ve sworn he heard Arthur mutter something along the lines of “As if I’d leave you here unsupervised.”, to Merlin, the tone far less jesting that it might’ve been a month ago, but he kept it to himself. They were travelling and camping together, there would hardly be an opportunity to share without Arthur and Merlin there.

And like they were all expecting, the trip was hell.

Awkward silences that not even Gwaine could fill, Merlin looking close to tears the whole time, and Arthur constantly looking like he’s considering extreme violence.

Merlin even rides at the back of the group (unheard of), doesn’t complain even once about anything (even more unheard of), and the few times he does speak, he addresses all of them by their titles (down-right panic inducing).

They, of course, realise it had been a trap far too late, and before they even had time to shout and draw their swords, the camp fades around them.

~

When they wake an indiscernible amount of time later, they have been stripped of armour and weapons, and have been shackled.

They appear to be in a circular, one-room hut, the knights spaced equally and chained to the wall. Their cloaks remain, but any chainmail or armour they had been equipped with was gone, leaving them in the thin clothes they wore underneath, completely unprotected.

Merlin stood in the middle of the room, looking very confused. Once he noticed the knights stirring, he tried to take a step towards them, but frowned when he realised he couldn’t get within a arm’s reach of them.

Once the knights came around fully, they realised that whilst Merlin couldn’t move all that much, they couldn’t speak.

Arthur looks to Merlin with fury written all over his face, and pulls violently on his chains. Merlin flinches back and gasps out:

“This has nothing to do with me, I swear!”

Before the rest of the knights have time to change their expressions to one of confusion, a man walks through the door. Everyone’s gazes turn to him quickly, and they take in his appearance.

He looked like a Druid... but not quite right, like he hadn’t actually been to a camp in a while. He wore neutral colours, browns and greens, but despite his calm demeanour and gentle face, he looked a little crazed.

Where Druids stand calmly and walk softly, this man rushed in and fiddled with his hands, eyes darting around the room at everyone’s faces.

When Merlin goes to demand he introduce himself, the Druid holds a hand up, silencing him (no magic, just a gesture), and begins to speak:

“Who I am, does not matter. But I do know who you are, Emrys. I shall explain it your friends first, so they don’t get too lost.-”

The Druid smiles sadly, and turns to the knights, all of whom (apart from Lancelot) stare on in confusion at the melancholy resignation on the Druid’s face, and the dread on Merlin’s. Still unable to speak, and with very limited movement, they reluctantly resign themselves to listening to whatever speech the villain of the week had come up with.

“-Emrys has been being seen in prophetic visions for centuries. Whilst Uther Pendragon was destined to start the purge, Emrys, or as you know him: Merlin, is destined to stop it. He is said to be the most powerful Warlock to ever walk the earth, past present and future. He can bend the very elements of the world, bring down armies, turn cities to ash with a flick of his wrist. But destiny also foretold of The Once and Future King. Most have accepted that Arthur Pendragon, is said king.-”

Merlin was stiff but panicky during the Druid’s explanation, having realised that for whatever reason, he didn’t have access to his magic right now.

He could feel it buzzing under his skin, but every time he tried to pull it forward, it abandoned him, burrowing deep into his soul and hiding.

Merlin was tense and angry, angry that the chance to tell his friends the truth himself had been taken away, but his statue-like stillness is broken as he frowns and flinches slightly at the thinly veiled disgust in the sorcerer’s voice as he says Arthur’s name.

The Knights look confused, and very much shocked, their gazes flickering between the Druid and Merlin, but he refuses to meet their eyes.

“-Together, Emrys and the Forever King are destined to bring harmony and peace to the world, to restore magic’s place alongside the non magic, to inspire compassion, and stop the unjust genocide that Uther started.-”

Arthur and Leon shuffle uncomfortably at the mention of the late King and his sins, but are more focused on the other shocking revelations. The other knights (again, bar Lancelot, who is staring at Merlin apologetically) seem invested in the story, though they’re clearly confused.

Arthur was made aware of Merlin’s magic a few weeks ago, but despite Merlin’s choice to tell him willingly, he had reacted badly, and in his rage, hadn’t allowed Merlin to explain himself. The other knights were, of course, unaware of this, though they quickly put two and two together.

Despite Merlin’s best efforts, Arthur had stayed in the dark about the whole Emrys-prophecy-destiny thing.

The Druid gives each knight a short assessing gaze, seemingly to make sure they were paying attention.

He turns his attention back to Merlin, who is trying very hard to keep his expression blank (and failing) as he listens:

-”And how long have you waited, my friend, for Arthur to play his part in destiny. Ten years, of having the prophecies shoved down your throat by idealists, being told that you have no choice but to serve a man who would see your head on a spike should he know who you truly are. Ten years in the service of a man who has caused you nothing but pain, given you nothing but nightmares.-”

Merlin flinches and looks away. Every magic user in, or even near Camelot shares the same nightmares, all caused by the Pendragon Reign. There’s no need for a discussion about it, no need for a denial. 

“-His father ripped your family apart. He himself stood at the grave of your best friend and told you he was evil, he himself killed the woman you loved-”

Arthur frowns in confusion at this. Merlin had never been in love. But he quickly doubts himself when he hears Merlin gasp quietly, and looks to him to see a tear slip down his cheek. 

Fury flashes quickly across Lancelot’s face, obviously knowing the story, but he covers it quickly, and no one is the wiser to the anger slowly growing in his chest at what this so-called Druid was putting his friend through.

The Druid speaks his next words quietly, though still loud enough for everyone in the room to hear, as he lifts a soft hand and gently wipes away Merlin’s tear:

“-I know what you see when you close your eyes. I know why you are so exhausted. But do they? Have you told them?-”

The Druid nods his head in the direction of the knights, but doesn’t break eye contact with Merlin, who sniffles slightly before looking to the floor in shame. 

“-Of the smoke and flames that you choke on when you sleep? You dream of pyres built just for you, built by the people you care most about. Even when you are awake, every second you have your eyes closed, every time you blink, you are forced to picture your so-called King with a sword at your throat, as if the scene were painted onto the back of your eyelids.-”

His voice had risen as he spoke and he had begun to pace, anger growing at the pain his Lord had gone through. He practically spits the word “King”, like just saying it disgusts him. 

Merlin remains quiet, but he has a steady stream of tears down his face as he looks back at the Druid with despair. The knights watch on in anguish as they see the way he is suffering. 

Arthur stops feeling angry and confused, and starts to feel a little guilty. Not that he would let it show; he stares on blankly.

Everyone wanted desperately to believe that the Druid was lying, manipulating them, that Merlin would deny it. But he didn’t. And that told them all they needed to know.

The Druid stopped his pacing, coming to a stand still in front of Merlin and cupping one of his cheeks softly with his hand. The knights pretend not to see Merlin lean into it slightly as his tears continue to fall.

The Druid begins again, speaking softly once more:

“-Were those fears unfounded? Were those nightmares irrational? I see the terror in your eyes. I see how petrified of your King you are.-”

Merlin lets out a shaky breath and glances quickly to Arthur, before looking back at the man in front of him.

The King is taken aback, and the knights are furious at the flash of fear on Merlin’s face when his gaze had momentarily met Arthur’s.

“-What did he do, when he found out? When you bared your soul and gave him nothing but honesty, and undeserved apologies. What did he do?-”

Merlin lets out his first audible sob, and the Knights pull at their chains slightly, desperate to comfort their friend. Arthur slumps back, remembering his actions as if they were mere hours ago.

One of Merlin’s hands lifted to cover his mouth as he chokes back a second sob, but the other lifts subconsciously to tug at the scarf around his neck.

The Druid lets a single tear escape his eye as he waves his hand gently, the scarf disappearing with the gentle golden glow of his eyes.

Merlin seems too distraught to notice; and moves both hands to clamp tightly over his mouth as tears stream down his face. His shoulders hunch, but not enough for any of the knights to miss what the Druid had clearly been trying to expose; a thin, barely healed scar along the base of his throat. As if a sword had been pressed there.

The Druid’s eyes lose focus slightly and he frowns as he ghosts a finger over the scar, seemingly asking the next question to himself:

“-Nightmares on the back of your eyelids, or visions of the future, hmm?-”

His eyes refocus, and he cards a hand through Merlin’s hair, trying to calm the man’s heartache as the knights stare on in horror. 

Arthur resists the urge to look towards his knights, not wanting to see the disgusted glares he knows they’re sending his way.

The Druid pauses for a moment in his speech, waiting for Merlin to calm slightly before he quietly continued:

“-And what has he done since then? Has he allowed explanation? Has he seen the error of his ways and tried to understand? Or has he called you a liar, and a traitor. Has he called you a monster, whilst demanding that you continue to serve him?-”

Merlin’s breathing grows deeper as he struggles to control his sobs. He lowers his hands to be clenched at his sides, shaking, as the Druid softly places his hands on his shoulders.

His next words are spoken even quieter, though the knights can still hear him and the deadly anger that’s barely concealed in the man’s tone:

“-Has he laid hands on you, and called you a beast, while you cowered in fear, knowing that if you defended yourself he would see himself proven right?-”

Merlin let’s out loud, gasping sobs once more as the Druid’s hands travel softly down, from his shoulders to his wrists. There, he looks down, sorrow on his face as he carefully lifts Merlin’s sleeves, bunching them around his elbows.

The knights decide then and there they are going to protect Merlin no matter what, no matter from whom, as they each see the handprint shaped bruises littering Merlin’s arms.

“-He has hurt you, over and over and over-”

As he speaks, the Druid hovers his hands over the bruises, his eyes glowing softly golden as they heal.

“-And you despair, believing yourself worthless-”

Merlin flinches, and his sobbing grows more intense as his face is taken in soft hands.

“-waiting on a Golden Age that he refuses to bring. He is cruel, and unjust, how many more times must he hurt you? How many more of our people will the Pendragon line slaughter, out of misguided hatred? How much more sleep must you lose? How many more nightmares must you endure? You have stood loyally by his side for a decade, and had to stand and watch as he continued his father’s legacy, forced to believe it was destiny.-”

The Druid says “destiny” as if he hates the taste of the word in his mouth, the bloodshed of the past almost thirty years clearly having made him lose faith in the prophecies.

Merlin’s breathing has calmed slightly, and the knights aren’t sure whether to be relieved or frightened, as the Druid desperately continues, clutching Merlin’s hands in his own:

“-Too many lives have been lost, too much innocent blood spilt. Haven’t you yourself been forced to kill your own people to protect this False King from the consequences of his own actions?-”

The knights think too soon as Merlin’s breathing and sobs grow erratic once more. The manservant almost falls to the floor, his eyes clenched desperately shut, and only the Druids hands on his shoulders keeping him upright:

“-I was young, and naïve once. I too, believed in Arthur Pendragon, I believed in the prophecies, I believed he would a great king and a good man-”

He leans forward, pressing his forehead to Merlin’s as he gently says:

“-but he is not. He has failed you, and failed our people.-”

The Druid steps back, but still holds Merlin’s shoulder tightly as he gives him a pleading look.

The knights know what’s coming before it is said, and with the anguish and desperation and grief on their friend’s face? After they learned what their benevolent King had done? Well... they wouldn’t have blamed Merlin for saying yes.

“-I ask you to join me, Emrys. I know it’s difficult, to give up on a man you gave so much of yourself to, but there is too much Uther in him. It’s time, and you know this, to rewrite destiny. Dig your own path, liberate your own people, bring magic and compassion and harmony back to the world yourself.-”

Merlin, though distraught, still looks doubtful, and the knights hold their breath as the Druid continues, becoming more and more furious at their inability to speak. 

All of them have tears in their eyes, if not falling already, even Arthur, though he has remained still and blank through the tears.

“-I know the flames you fear, the sword’s edge, the gallows’ drop, the axe’s fall. Do not let our kin continue to fear those things, do not stand by, waiting for the Pendragon tyrant to change, and allowing sacrifices to be made in the mean time.-”

Merlin’s sobbing begins again, and the Druid kisses him softly on the forehead before kneeling to the floor, gripping Merlin’s hands and looking up at him desperately:

"-You are Emrys, Lord of the Druids, and Conduit for all magic of this world. Not some servant that an entitled brat can toss around and treat lesser than the dirt he walks on. You are my King, our King. Not him.-”

He stands again and grips Merlin’s arms tightly, most likely leaving more bruises in place of the ones he had healed.

Merlin doesn’t notice the pain, but shakes his head stutteringly, still crying.

“-Do not let your people lose you to Arthur, as Arthur lost himself to Uther. To give up on him is painful, but the screams of your kin, burning for their gifts, echoing in your skull day and night?-”

The Druid’s hands move up to grip the sides of Merlin’s head, and he shakes him ever so slightly, his tone frantic and pleading:

“-That is worse. That is pain he will never understand, and certainly never care for. Join me, please my Lord I beg you, for our people.”

One of the Druid’s hands slides lower, to softly cup Merlin’s cheek again, but the other drops entirely.

The knights have never resented being magically gagged more than in this moment. They could do nothing but watch on in horror as the man summons a dagger behind his back.

The Druid is clearly waiting on his response, and Merlin is too distraught to notice the consequences of a wrong answer, tears flowing quickly down his face and ugly sobs forcing their way out of his throat.

Arthur watches in terror, knowing that this was his fault, that every shitty, selfish decision he had ever made had to led to this point. And the knights knew it too.

All they can do is pray to every deity they know the name of, that Arthur has done enough damage for Merlin to say yes. And oh, what a terrible thing to pray for.

The Druid softly strokes Merlin’s cheekbone with his thumb as the Warlock takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He looks up, meeting the gaze of the man opposite him before croaking:

“I... I can’t. Arthur is a good man, I have faith that he will-”

Before he can finish his sentence, the dagger is thrust up into his chest, his words stuttering to a stop and his red-rimmed eyes growing wide at the sudden, agonising pain spreading throughout his body.

Merlin is vaguely aware of the knights pulling roughly at their chains, but he pays them no mind as blood gurgles up his throat and he frowns, struggling to hear what the Druid was whispering in his ear:

“Then you have forsaken your people, and so I shall forsake you. Traitor.”

With that, Merlin is dropped roughly to the floor, dagger still imbedded in his chest as he lands on his side. Blood spills from both his mouth and the wound, eyes unfocused but heavy as the tears continue to overflow.

The knights are silently screaming, thrashing against their chains as their friend chokes, but Merlin ignores them in favour of smiling gently at the soft feeling of nothing, growing outwards from his chest.

He frowns once more, as though remembering something, and his eyes go glassy as two words escape from his mouth, barely a whisper:

“I’m... sorry...”

An apology to whom, no one knows, but with those last words his body goes completely still, the pool of blood still expanding beneath him, and his eyes unseeingly staring just to the left of The King.

No one in the room can tear their eyes from Merlin’s pale corpse, face now a mess of tears and blood.

The Druid looks down at him with an odd mix of contempt, and genuine sorrow. He had obviously waited long enough that his resentment of Arthur had bled into his feelings for his so-called saviour, but still grieved for what could have been.

The Knights look at him in horror, all understanding that they had never been lucky, they had just had Merlin. He had never asked for thanks, or recognition, or reward. He had kept them all safe, at great expense to himself, and now he was dead.

Lancelot seems the... calmest, though he still cries like the rest of them. He had, in theory, known of the pain Merlin was in, but had he known it was plaguing him to this extent... well perhaps he wouldn’t have been so loyal to Arthur.

Arthur himself stares at Merlin with nothing but terror and agonising grief. He had done this. If he had just let Merlin explain, if he had just given him five minutes, instead of bruises and nightmares and fear, then he would still be alive. 

If he hadn’t been so selfish and cruel, perhaps hundreds of people, just like Merlin, just as scared and innocent as Merlin, would also be alive. 

Merlin had spent his entire time in Camelot trying to convince Arthur that he wasn’t his father... and Arthur had gone and proven him wrong at every turn. And even then Merlin still had faith, still called him a good man.

The silencing spell still has hold over the knights, so they cry and scream and thrash soundlessly as the Druid finally rips his gaze from the body at his feet.

He steps carefully around Merlin to stand in front of Arthur. The sorrow clears from his face, leaving only contempt and rage left to be directed at the man in front of him. Arthur does not look up, keeping his tear stained face focused on the floor, even as the Druid begins to speak:

“You see what you have done, Arthur Pendragon? You think magic is the thing that corrupts, but it is not. It is you. Emrys was meant to be a saviour, a God, a guiding light to help our people to safety, but you tainted him, reduced him to nothing more than a sad, scared boy, and then reduced him further, to a corpse. My hands are clean of blood Pendragon, but yours?? Oh, yours are drenched in it.”

Arthur slowly lifts his distraught gaze to the Druid, but quickly widens his eyes at what he sees.

Merlin stands behind the Druid, eyes glowing golden, tears once more streaming down his face as he grips the handle of the dagger, still buried in his chest.

The bloodstains grow even larger as he grimaces slightly and pulls it free, before wordlessly forcing it through the Druid’s back.

The man lets out a sudden gasp, and looks down to see just the tip of the blade poking out where his heart should be. He gargles something, words that no one can make out, before Merlin pulls the dagger out again, and his body crumples to the floor.

The knights and Arthur can feel the silencing spell release them, but none of them make even a noise as they stare in shock at their tormented, but very much alive, friend.

Merlin drops the dagger from his hand and it lands with a splash in the mixing puddles of blood, before he himself falls harshly to his knees.

The others finally break out of their stupor, once again pulling towards their friend. Their cries and shouts of his name can be heard by everyone but him as he leans forward, placing his forehead against that of the lifeless Druid.

His cries grow erratic again as he whispers apology after apology, and every heart breaks even more at the sight before them.

They know why he apologises, they know why he grieves, even over a man who had tried to... had succeeded in killing him. The death of yet another of his own kind who was sick of waiting, who was rightfully angry, was not something to be celebrated.

They had thought, at the beginning of this, that they would get through whatever the Druid threw at them, they always did. But this, the brokenness of one of their dearest friends, was not something that looks fixable.

Merlin finally sits up again and he sobs louder, still deaf and blind to those around him. Lancelot has just enough time to yell at the others to cover their eyes, as a gut-wrenching scream escapes the Warlock.

They’re almost blinded, even with their eyes tightly shut and their arms thrown up. The scream is the loudest, and most anguished they’ve ever heard, and the force in which Merlin releases his magic completely eviscerates the hut they had been chained in.

Each of them is thrown violently backwards, and their chains crumble to the floor with the rest of the building as they try to find purchase on the ground. None of them are hurt too badly, and they’re grateful for the fact that even in this state, Merlin’s magic seems incapable of really causing them any damage.

The scream ends, and the knights look up to see Merlin sat in the middle of the crater he had created, staring blankly into the middle distance. Tears still stream down his face, but he doesn’t move and he makes no sound, just kneels there with his blood soaked hands on his lap, palms towards the sky.

It takes a few moments for the knights to regain their senses, but once they do, all hell breaks loose.

Gwaine immediately gets to his feet and makes a rush towards Arthur, fully intending on throttling him, screaming obscenities as he went, but Percival and Elyan jump forward, grabbing an arm each and dragging him away as he curses the King and the Sky and the Gods.

As much as Percival and Elyan were not impartial to killing Arthur right now, Merlin was the priority, and as much as he may have deserved it, Merlin would never forgive them if they hurt the King.

Arthur seems to be unaware of the attempt on his life made by one of his most trusted knights, and just stares blankly at an equally blank Merlin.

Lancelot and Leon make a bee-line for the Warlock, but stop just short of touching him, not knowing how he would react. 

Leon nods gently at Lancelot, clearly having picked up that this knight had already known at least part of the story. Lancelot returns his nod, before moving forward slowly. The body of the Druid lays untouched at Merlin’s knees, and the knight removes his cloak, laying it over him, before reaching a slow hand towards Merlin’s shoulder.

He finally makes contact after a little hesitation, whispering his name as gently and as comfortingly as he is able with tears still leaking from his eyes.

Merlin doesn’t react at all to Lancelot’s touch, not even when he takes his bloody hand, or shakes his shoulder slightly; just sits and stares and cries.

Leon gulps before reaching forward himself. He grabs the dagger from besides Merlin and tosses it behind him (he didn’t like to think about that action too much. He has no idea what state his friend is in right now, best to not have any sharp instruments within his reach when he came to.) before lifting his hand to wipe away the man’s tears.

Arthur stares upon all of this in horror from his position sprawled on the floor a few metres away.

Elyan and Percival have just about managed to calm Gwaine, and they begin making their way to Leon, Lancelot, and Merlin, but before they get even halfway there, Arthur finally speaks.

His voice breaks, and is barely audible, but everyone hears him nonetheless as he murmurs:

“I did this...”

Gwaine makes another run at him, regaining his anger, and Percival and Elyan just about manage to grab him before he commits regicide.

Lancelot and Leon look up at him sharply, but when Lancelot lowers his gaze and continues to try and rouse Merlin, Leon holds the King’s gaze, and says strongly:

“Yes. Yes you did, My Lord.”

Arthur’s face crumbles even more, and Leon glares at him with venom for a few more seconds, before giving Lancelot a soft pat on the back, and walking towards the other three.

He mumbles a few harsh things that only Gwaine can hear, who responds at first with more anger, but then resignation. The First Knight gives the man a pat on the back and nods knowingly at Elyan and Percival. No one, not even Gwaine, pretends to miss the meaning of “be ready to catch him again” in the gesture.

Arthur stays in his position on the floor as the four of them walk softly towards Merlin and Lancelot, but before they get there, everyone’s gazes are drawn to the shadow in the sky, getting closer and closer.

It moves with an alarming place, and their anger at Arthur is momentarily forgotten as he scrambles up and screams:

“DRAGON!!”

Gwaine, Elyan, Percival and Arthur rush forward to stand between the beast and the other three. They have no armour or weapons, but like hell were they just going to let it get to them.

Lancelot looks up to see the white, horse sized beast land heavily in front of The King, his eyes widen and he jumps up, rushing forward to push between the others.

Leon moves to hold a still unresponsive Merlin behind his back protectively, but frowns in confusion when Lancelot yells at Arthur (who had been about to run at the beast):

“NO! No don’t hurt her! She’s Merlin’s, don’t hurt her!”

Everyone looks at him in confusion and fear as he slowly approaches the Dragon, she had been growling lowly at first, but seemed to perk up when she saw Lancelot.

Lancelot gives her a small smile, and holds his hand out, allowing her to come to him, before quietly saying:

“I’ve never been more glad to see you, Aithusa. Merlin is over here.”

He turns back towards the others, and calmly, but forcefully says:

“Move. She needs to see him.”

Gwaine nods after a moment, trusting Lancelot, and moves out of the way. Arthur goes to argue, but Elyan and Percival roughly shove him to the side, clearing a path to Merlin and Leon for Lancelot and the new, slightly terrifying, arrival.

Leon looks up fearfully, still in front of Merlin protectively. He stares at the Dragon for a few moments, breathing deeply, before looking up at Lancelot. Lancelot gives him a weak smile, and a nod before saying quietly:

“He’s a Dragon-Lord. She can help him, it’s ok.”

Leon gulps, before nodding, and stepping out of the way. He doesn’t move too far, obviously still affected by his last encounter with a Dragon, and watches with unconcealed suspicion as Aithusa prances around Lancelot at his nod.

The others crowd closer as well, looking on in confusion, awe, suspicion, as Aithusa slowly approaches Merlin.

She lays down at his side, gently pressing her head onto Merlin’s hands, still in his lap. Her mouth opens and Leon gasps as she blows a gentle mist up into his face. Merlin’s back straightens and the knights can see his eyes come back into focus as he blinks.

They all stare with bated breath as he gulps, and begins to notice his surroundings; looking in fear at the crater around him.

Merlin is broken from his growing panic as Aithusa chirps softly from his lap, and his head whips down, only now noticing her.

The knights let out a collective breath as he smiles, very slightly and very briefly, but still; after what they had just seen him go through they would take anything. He leans his head down, and wraps his arms around the creature. She chirps once again, louder this time, as she uses her tail to push away the forgotten Druid’s corpse. 

She curls her body around Merlin protectively, and he collapses even further into the semi-embrace she’s giving him. The knights smile slightly, relieved that Merlin seems responsive, and safe, before they take slow steps towards the two of them.

She whips her head up quickly and growls at them, digging her front claws into the ground. They take in sudden breaths and stop moving, wary, but she stops growling when she looks to Lancelot.

The others stare on in shock and confusion as she tilts her head slightly, and Lancelot nods as he quietly says:

“They’re friends, it’s ok.”

The creature seems to nod, and the others follow behind Lancelot as he begins moving towards Merlin again.

He crouches down, and gives Aithusa a well-received scratch on the chin, before he gently places a hand between Merlin’s shoulder-blades.

Percival, Elyan, Gwaine, and finally Leon follow suit, sitting carefully next to the Dragon, but unlike Lancelot, they don’t touch her, or Merlin. She may seem safe and loving and on their side, but she was still a Dragon.

Arthur moves a little slower, not sure if he’s welcome (he’s not) but when he gets within five feet of the group huddled on the floor, Aithusa lifts her head and growls again.

Elyan and Percival are shocked at the sudden movement, but Gwaine smirks, and Leon nods his head approvingly (though he’s still understandably... nervous). Lancelot looks back at a shocked and still tear-stricken Arthur, and speaks. His voice is quiet, but his tone is vicious:

“They have a mental link; she sees what he sees. It might be best, Your Majesty, for you to stay away.”

He doesn’t bother to watch Arthur’s reaction; he turns back and begins carding a soft hand through Merlin’s hair. He flinches only slightly before relaxing under the soft ministrations, and Aithusa gives Lancelot an affectionate lick on the arm.

The other knights do see the way that Arthur flinches, before he gives a shaky nod and takes a few steps back. He goes to say something, but the tears in his eyes overflow, and he turns to walk away.

Gwaine’s smirk grows slightly before he drops it entirely and turns back to the others, no longer caring what Arthur got up to. He is the first of the knights, other than Lancelot, to be brave enough to reach a hand forward and stroke Aithusa gently.

Elyan and Percival hesitatingly follow his lead, and Aithusa chirps happily at the attention. Leon’s gaze follows Arthur as he walks towards the horses.

They were far away, well out of the way of Merlin’s blast, but even with the distance Leon could see they were shaken. Thankfully they had been tied to the trees, otherwise he’s certain they would have bolted.

Leon finds it only slightly surprising that he feels no sympathy for the King. There’s only so much you can forgive a man for. When Arthur finally reaches the horses and begins untacking them, he looks away, back to Aithusa and Merlin.

Everyone can tell that Camelot’s First Knight is still rather shaken at the presence of the Dragon, but when Merlin looks up slightly to see him still sat there, unwilling to leave him, his heart swells a little.

Leon meets his gaze and gulps, but returns Merlin’s shaky smile.

The other knights smile as well, glad that Merlin was feeling at least a little better, and Percival speaks quietly, not wanting to spook him (or the Dragon):

“Hey, there’s our lucky charm.”

The other knights give him questioning looks but Merlin just chuckles slightly, before sitting up properly, and focusing his attention on running his fingers over Aithusa’s scales, picking out grass and mud.

Percival looks indignant before replying, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world:

“What? You honestly thought that tree branches only fell if there was a fight happening, and then only fell on the enemies?? The rock-falls? The fires even when it was pouring with rain?? The miraculous solutions to end-of-the-world type problems?? Come on, guys.”

The others look taken aback at that, but Lancelot just smiles knowingly. They all look to Merlin, who has managed to wipe the blood from his face with his sleeve, and he just shrugs slightly.

The rest of them, bar Leon, let out small huffs of laughter, and continue to stroke Aithusa, knowing that Merlin almost certainly isn’t ready for an actual conversation yet.

Merlin looks at Leon’s pale form assessingly, before a look of realisation crosses his face. The knight is tense, and staring at Aithusa’s sharp teeth with worry, but his gaze is quickly drawn to Merlin when he reaches a shaky hand towards him.

Merlin gives him an understanding smile, and crooks his fingers, encouraging the curly-haired knight to take his hand. Leon does so, and his breath hitches as Merlin lowers their intertwined hand to rest on the top of Aithusa’s head.

Leon lets out a slow breath as he feels Elyan’s supportive hand on his back, but relaxes fully when he sees the sparkle in Merlin’s eyes. Anything to make their Warlock happy in this moment. And forever, probably.

Gwaine looks at Leon out of the corner of his eye, and says lowly:

“I’m fairly certain I’m going to try and kill him if I look at him again, so what’s the King up to?”

Merlin tenses slightly, but Leon squeezes his hand and he relaxes again. Lancelot raises and eyebrow and before Leon can reply, he says:

“What, no princess?”

Gwaine narrows his eyes before gruffly saying:

“Princess was an affectionate nickname, and I’m not feeling all that affectionate towards him right now.”

The others nod knowingly, turning their attention back to Merlin and Aithusa. Leon leaves his hand in Merlin’s, but looks at Gwaine before saying lowly:

“He went to deal with the horses. Now we know we no longer need a quick get-away, they need untacking and feeding and watering. They were pretty spooked by... they were pretty spooked.”

Leon looks back at Merlin when his hand gets squeezed, to see him frowning slightly. Leon catches his eye and gives him a small smile, but Merlin just gets teary-eyed again, before sniffing and muttering:

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to I just... I’m sorry.”

Only a single tear has time to fall before Lancelot has his hand on Merlin’s shoulder again (comfortingly), and Elyan has his hand on Gwaine’s shoulder (forcefully). Leon shakes his head softly, and responds in a gentle voice:

“You don’t have anything to apologise for Merlin, we are the ones who should be sorry, for not being able to protect you.”

Merlin’s frown deepens, and he goes to retort, but Gwaine beats him to it, obviously trying to keep the anger out of his voice:

“From the so-called Druid and from him. We should have done better.”

Leon can feel Merlin’s hand begin to shake, so he squeezes it once more as Merlin shakes his head and speaks, his voice sounding stronger already:

“It’s not his fault. He was just shaken and scared and I should have-”

Gwaine clenches his jaw, struggling to keep control of his rage, but Elyan grips his shoulder tighter in warning, and replies in his stead, interrupting Merlin:

“There’s no excuse Merlin. All of us have been attacked by magic, but equally, all of us have been attacked by swords. I mean look at Leon, giving Dragons a second chance after what happened. I would perhaps understand brief anger, but there is no way to justify laying his hands on you in such a way that leaves bruises, and certainly no justification for putting a blade to your throat.”

Merlin frowns, and looks like he wants to argue, but once again, a knight beats him to it, Lancelot this time:

“No, Merls. We know how much he means to you. But what he did was wrong, there’s no rationalisation. We all know that you’ve already forgiven him, and that’s why we can’t yet. Probably not for a while.”

Merlin sighs, looking pained, and Leon uses his other hand to tilt his chin up:

“Not to say that we won’t ever forgive him. But someone has to be angry at him for what he’s done, and Lord knows you aren’t gonna do it. Consider us your stand-ins.”

Merlin smiles slightly, and Leon considers that a win, returning the smile and nodding slightly to himself, before looking back down at the Dragon, now seemingly asleep, and purring, on Merlin’s lap.

Elyan releases the death grip on Gwaine’s shoulder, when the now much calmer knight, with a smile on his face, says:

“So... you have a Dragon??”

Merlin chuckles fondly, before looking to him and saying quietly:

“Yeah. Her name is Aithusa. I’m surprised she came alone, Kilgharrah usually doesn’t like it when she runs off.”

Lancelot winces slightly as the other knights look shocked, before Percival says:

“Kil-what-now? There’s another one??”

Merlin grimaces slightly, before looking to Leon worriedly and tightening the grip on his hand:

“Uhh... yeah. Kilgharrah is the name of the Dragon that... attacked Camelot a few years ago.-”

Leon straightens his back and gulps, but doesn’t remove his hand from Merlin’s, nodding at him to continue:

“-I didn’t have control over him until right at the end. I told him to leave and never come back, unless I called him-”

Lancelot makes a noise of realisation as he nods, and interrupts Merlin:

“That’s probably why Aithusa came alone. You didn’t call for her, and technically we’re still within Camelot’s borders. He couldn’t come even if he wanted to. Poor sod is probably clomping around at the edge of the border freaking out.”

Merlin looks to Lancelot and nods, satisfied to feel Leon relax a bit, before looking back to the First Knight apologetically:

“-He does feel really bad at that. He just wanted to get back at Uther for the whole... genocide thing I guess. But that’s no excuse. I just didn’t want to be the one to be responsible for killing the last Dragon, even if Kilgharrah personally might’ve deserved it at the time. That was all before Aithusa came along.”

Everyone nods in understanding, before focussing their attention back on Aithusa. She really was like a giant puppy, even if they had to be wary to avoid her claws as she twitched in her sleep.

Merlin sighs, looking forlorn once again as he realises how exhausted he is, knowing that they’re going to have to get up and make camp at some point. 

He can cope with an awkward, tense silence between him and Arthur easily enough, that’s what the last few weeks had consisted of. But an awkward and tense silence between everyone? Elyan and Percival inwardly fuming? Gwaine outwardly fuming? Leon and Lancelot being all protective? He’s not sure he can deal with that.

At Merlin’s sigh, Lancelot tilts his head to catch his eye. His brow creases as he says softly:

“What is it, Merls?”

Merlin looks up, still squeezing Leon’s hand, before quietly replying:

“Nothing, I’m just tired. We have to re-make camp at some point and I’m not sure if I can deal with everyone being so...”

He waves his free hand around loosely, and Lancelot huffs out a laugh, before kicking Gwaine, getting everyone’s attention:

“We have to go make camp. But Merlin is exhausted, and doesn’t want to deal with any of this shit tonight, so we’re all going to have to play nice for the time being.”

Gwaine growls, and quickly retorts:

“Like hell am I gonna treat him with-”

Lancelot kicks him again, harder this time, and Elyan replaces the harsh hand on his shoulder before forcefully saying:

“Right now, it doesn’t matter what Arthur deserves. Merlin needs peace and quiet, and that’s what we’re going to give him.”

Gwaine grumbles, but begrudgingly nods, and Merlin gives him a grateful smile. 

The knights all stand up, and Merlin shakes Aithusa awake, giving a small chuckle when she stretches like a cat.

Once she takes her weight off of his lap, Merlin follows the knights to stand, almost falling over at the weakness in his legs. Leon and Lancelot catch an arm each, steadying him as he shuts his eyes tightly, willing the dizziness away.

He feels a hand wipe the hair from his forehead, and opens his eyes slowly to see Percival checking him over with an assessing gaze:

“I’m fine, just tired, a little dizzy.”

Lancelot nods in understanding, humming slightly:

“Hmm. I’m not surprised, you haven’t done anything this big in a while, and I doubt you’ve slept well in the last few weeks.”

Merlin gives him a sheepish look as he shakes his head, but it’s Elyan’s questioning gaze that Lancelot responds to:

“I found out by accident when I first met him. Our Warlock isn’t very good at keeping secrets.”

He says it with a small smirk as he looks back down to Merlin, who’s looking indignant:

“Hey! I managed to keep everyone else from finding out.”

Gwaine looks guilty as he raises his arm quietly:

“Actually uh... I knew. I mean not about the whole Emrys, prophecy thing. But the magic stuff, yeah.”

Merlin looks at him, shocked. The other knights share his expression for just a moment before they laugh at the look on Merlin’s face:

“How?!”

Gwaine puts his arm down and laughs again:

“Mate... we met in the middle of a tavern fight, in which shit started literally flying about the moment you joined in.-”

He shrugged, before casually continuing:

“-I figured you would tell me when you wanted to. Until then, it wasn’t my secret to know. You also have me to thank for backing you up every time The Prick asked if I saw you at the tavern.”

Merlin laughed and nodded his thanks, before looking over to where said Prick was setting up camp, a few metres beyond the edge of the crater.

His face fell slightly and the others follow his gaze, tensing slightly in anger when they saw what he was looking at. Merlin takes his arms from Leon and Lancelot, finally feeling steady on his feet, before quietly saying:

“Come on, we might as well get this over with. I’m starving, and tired, and Aithusa will get bored if we don’t start entertaining her.”

Everyone turns around to see Aithusa (now she was sure that her Lord was ok), prancing about in the crater; chasing birds and digging holes.

Merlin raises an eyebrow and everyone else chuckles slightly. Gwaine pushes Lancelot out of the way and takes Merlin’s hand, beginning to walk determinedly towards camp. Everyone catches up quickly, Leon taking Merlin’s other hand when the man had reached out to grab his cape.

Gwaine looks down at Merlin, seeing how nervous he is, and says:

“So. How long until she’s big enough to be ridden? I want you to take me flying, Merlin.”

Merlin chuckles, and looks back to see Aithusa happily trailing them:

“Not for a while. Dragons grow slow, so it’ll be another few years at least. Plus she’s got some issues with bone growth that we’re still trying to fix. She’ll be fine in the long run, but her development is taking a lot longer than normal. She still can’t speak.”

Everyone stops at that, and Merlin’s arms get yanked back when he continued walking. He turns to see Leon giving him an incredulous look:

“Dragons can speak?!”

Merlin tilts his head in confusion, before laughing and tugging them forwards again:

“Yeah. I forget that Uther basically erased all knowledge on Dragons, but they’re just as intelligent as we are. Kilgharrah would like to think that they’re more intelligent, but he’s always been a cryptic, egotistical bastard.-”

The others follow his pace and nod, but the mood darkens as they almost reach the camp. Merlin continues faintly, but quickly:

“I’ll tell you everything I know when... when we get back.”

Leon squeezes his hand, knowing that he was about to say “if”, assuring him that “when” is the right word.

Arthur looks up at the group and gulps from his place next to the fire. He straightens up, the anxiety showing clearly on his face, but before anyone can say anything, Aithusa jumps in between him.

He falls back at the sudden movement and she begins to growl; he widens his eyes as she stalks slowly towards him.

Gwaine smirks again, the others managing to keep their faces blank, but Merlin looks shocked, before he jumps forward and puts a hand on the Dragon’s back:

“Aithusa no. He’s a... friend. It’s ok, he’s-”

Arthur jumps to his feet and interrupts him:

“No, no it’s fine. I’ll... go... sit over there.”

He gestures behind him, and walks quickly away from the fire, sitting just within the fire’s light, the evening dimming around them.

Aithusa tilts her head, snaps her jaws at him once more before completely changing disposition. She begins bouncing around the fire, chirping happily and playfully trying to catch floating embers in her claws.

Merlin smiles slightly and the other knights (bar Gwaine, who is glaring very pointedly at Arthur) chuckle at her antics, before they all sit in a semi circle on the opposite side of the fire to Arthur, Merlin in the middle.

The Warlock is once again wedged protectively between Leon and Gwaine, and he fiddles softly with Leon’s cape in his lap as he stares fondly at Aithusa.

Elyan moves to the packs, unloading food and water and cooking pots. Merlin gets up to help, but Gwaine pulls him back down by the hand and holds on firmly as he says:

“You’ve been through enough. We can put up with Elyan’s shitty cooking for a couple nights.”

Merlin tries to pull away with a “But I can-” but Leon grabs his other hand, holding him down and interrupting:

“Absolutely not. You said yourself that you’re tired. If Elyan needs help, he can ask one of us.”

Merlin huffs sulkily and Leon laughs, stroking the back of his hand protectively.

Leon had known Merlin just as long as Arthur had, and whilst they had virtually nothing to do with each other the first few years, they were still friendly acquaintances, even then. Leon knew full well that it was Merlin who would have a hot meal left in his room after a late patrol, and Merlin always appreciated how Leon kept as many weapons in the armoury in as good nick as possible, so Merlin didn’t have to deal with it.

Besides, even before they knew each other’s names, Leon always found Merlin’s reactions to Arthur’s stupidity funny. He could hardly say it out loud, being the Perfect Knight and all, but he always thought it was a good thing that Arthur had someone at his side keeping him humble, and calling him out in ways no one else would.

Of course they had gotten much closer over the years, as did all of the knights, thanks to Merlin. Currently, Leon was feeling just a tinge of regret at being so grateful for Merlin’s presence at Arthur’s side; he had never really thought about how difficult being that man’s babysitter would be, especially now he knew Merlin had magic. And some sort of destiny.

Time passes fairly quickly whilst Elyan cooks, the others taking to heart what Lancelot had said and trying to keep a quiet, but easy conversation going.

They ask Merlin various questions about Aithusa, Kilgharrah, the Druids, the weird name that he had been called. He answered them all easily enough, but they notice the way he hesitates when they ask about his magic specifically or the prophecies, so they steer clear of those topics.

They’ll definitely want to know the whole story eventually, and they’re practically buzzing with desperation to ask Merlin to show them something magical, but they know that now is not the time.

Dinner is finally served, and despite Gwaine’s statement, it wasn’t actually that bad. Mainly because every time Elyan went to add something to the pot, he would look back desperately at Merlin, and took into account the shakes and nods of his head with a grateful smile.

He did struggle to cover the scowl on his face when he delivered Arthur’s bowl to him, replying to The King’s quiet “thank you, Elyan” with an even quieter “don’t mention it” .

Dinner was eaten quickly and in silence. They hadn’t been unconscious for long, and hour or two at most, but they had all worked up an understandable appetite, Merlin especially. He would never ask for seconds, but knowing that, Elyan gave him an extra big serving without a word.

They entertained themselves after dinner by throwing the last scraps of meat to Aithusa, watching her jump and flip and fly about the camp. Merlin had objected at first, but gave in when he saw the small grin on Leon’s face, and heard the way the others were laughing. The City was only a few days ride away, they could always hunt on the way back.

It didn’t take long for her to tire out and curl up at Merlin’s feet to sleep. Like Merlin had mentioned, Aithusa was developing slowly, and she normally couldn’t fly very far; it must’ve taken a huge amount of energy and effort for her to get all the way here. But like the Knights, she was very protective, and there was no way she could not check on her Lord, after she and Kilgharrah had felt the anguish he was in.

As Kilgharrah once again crosses Merlin’s mind, he sighs, and makes mental note to call him in the morning, when he had more energy.

Merlin is distracted from his thoughts when the camp goes silent all of a sudden, and Gwaine reaches over to squeeze his hand. He looks up in worry, to see that Arthur had stood, and walked a little closer, though he made sure to stay the other side of the fire.

Merlin tenses slightly. He tries not to let it show, but he can knows that he failed when he feels Leon’s hand firmly in the middle of his back. Hidden from the others, but a silent reassurance.

Arthur gulps, obviously nervous, but he meets Merlin’s gaze, flinching at the slight fear in his eyes:

“Merlin, I know nothing I say will-”

He’s interrupted by Gwaine growling and standing suddenly, stepping in front of Merlin protectively, but it’s Lancelot’s harsh words that cut him off fully:

“Not tonight, Arthur. We’re all tired and angry so just... not tonight.”

Arthur clenches his jaw, and blinks away tears before nodding:

“Yes, I... I understand.”

With that, he sniffles slightly before taking a step back. He looks to the floor as he mumbles something about checking the perimeter, before slowly walking away from the camp, into the night.

Merlin lets out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding, and relaxes slightly as Leon runs his hand over his back. Gwaine stares after Arthur for a few moments, deliberating on whether or not to follow him (and presumably, kick his ass). Merlin reaching up to take his hand and pull him back down makes his mind up, and he settles back into his seat, Merlin’s small hand clasped between his two larger ones.

Percival speaking up breaks the tense silence:

“It’s late and Lance is right, we’re all tired. If we want to make quick work of the journey home, and have time to hunt, then we should get some sleep.”

Murmurs of agreement float up around the group, and Gwaine, voice still tense and angry, says:

“I’ll take first-”

But he’s quickly interrupted by Elyan, softly laughing:

“Absolutely not, Gwaine. If you’re left alone we’ll all wake to find the King dead in the morning.”

Gwaine raises a challenging eyebrow, not denying anything, and Elyan huffs, Percival muttering:

“Fine. But I’m taking it with you so you don’t get a chance to smother him.”

Gwaine gives a sarcastic looking smile, before ruffling Merlin’s hair fondly and walking towards the fire. He adds another log, grabs his bedroll, and settles down against a tree, Percival sitting at his side.

Everyone else gathers their rolls, and whilst normally they spread out, they all seem rather desperate to stay as close to Merlin as possible.

Normally he would complain, they all snore, and Merlin is definitely expecting nightmares tonight, but he can’t find it in himself to send them away, and to be perfectly honest, he's certain that they would just move back the moment he closed his eyes anyway.

The Warlock finds himself tucked under Lancelot’s arm, with Leon a respectful distance away on his other side, though still within arm’s reach. Elyan settles somewhere below his feet, and for the first time in weeks, Merlin finds himself fully relaxed. 

Aithusa sleepily moves from her spot by Merlin’s feet, to curl up with Gwaine and Percival, and Merlin smiles at the thought that she not only trusts his friends in general, but trusts them enough to leave Merlin in their care. Dragons are protective and possessive creatures, and that trust speaks volumes.

Merlin is still a little miserable, and he almost resents himself for still being scared of Arthur despite his obvious regret, but... with all that happened... well. You can’t really blame him.

He’s got a gaggle of very protective knights around him, one of which he can vaguely hear trying to persuade another to commit regicide when no one was looking.

He has time to huff out a small laugh as Lancelot pulls him closer, before he drifts off; much quicker than he thought he would. He was comforted by the warmth behind him, the presence at his feet, the guardians watching over him, and the hand reaching towards him in the dark, just about close enough to lay fingers over Merlin’s heartbeat.

No nightmares plague him that night, and he doesn’t even wake to the warning growls sent Arthur’s way when he eventually returned to camp.

The next few days, hell, the next few months would probably be difficult, but he finds himself not as anxious now he knows he won’t have to face it alone.

~

THE END

I don’t think I’ll write a part two to this, but if someone wants to extend it, feel free, same as normal: credit and tag me :)

I’ve had the whole speech written out in full in my phone notes for like two months, but only recently got round to actually turning it into anything. I hope ya’ll enjoyed it!! I wanted to write something hella angsty so....

I’m fairly certain whatever I write next will be the dead opposite of this (FLUFF fluff) but honestly who knows.

Let me know if there’s anything specific you want my thoughts on :)

[the-astro-ace]

I was tagged by @mistbornhero.  Thank you, friend! 🥰

I’ll tag... @merwaines, and the one other person I thought of had been tagged by the same person as me lol.  No obligation to, of course.  And if you would like to do this then by all means feel free to say I tagged you lol

AO3 name: Nebula5030

Fandoms: Merlin, Yuri On Ice, and then I have a couple WIPs for Forever, Wayward Children, and Galavant

Number of fics: I have 70 works on AO3, but only 54 of them are fics I’ve written - the rest are art

Fic you spent the most time on: Well, um, I have a two chapter fic that I posted the first chapter during November of 2018 and haven’t posted the second chapter yet 😶  Otherwise I do have a couple completely unposted WIPs I started in late 2017 but haven’t finished yet either

Fic you spent the least time on: I Draw Back the Veil and I Say A Prayer took me an hour and a half.  As far as I know it’s the only fic that I managed to complete in one sitting

Longest fic: For the Love of All Who Gather.  Coming in at a cool 92,504 words 😎

Shortest fic: Want and A Secret of Night are both 100 words

Most hits: For the Love of All Who Gather, with 8566

Most kudos: The Meeting of Dragoon and Arthur, with 554

Most comment threads: lmaooooo that one’s The Wonders I Know with 547 - SOLELY because I have one subscriber who likes to chat with me in my comments.  That work is 30 short fics in one work and with a convo happening in each one...yeah it builds up lmao

Fave fic you wrote: Ironically even though it isn’t about the OTP, the one I find myself rereading the most is A Time of Joy - maybe it’s just because it’s SOFT and FLUFFY and GOOD FOR MY HEART OKAY??

Fic you want to rewrite/expand on: 🤔 There are a couple ideas in The Wonders I Know that I want to rework (I have a revision for the last fic in that collection in my gdocs actually) but I think I would like to redo For the Love of All Who Gather.  Since it had a deadline, I was forced to skim over a lot of things I would have liked to touch on - mostly going more in depth with the Druid culture and what Merlin learns while he’s with them.  Not to mention actually going and seeing what happens in Camelot while Merlin and Gwaine are gone lol

Share a bit of your WIP or share a story idea that you’re planning: Oh man how do you expect me to just pick one lmao 

Context for this one: I had gone on a Spock/Kirk kick one day, and read a lot of “Mind Meld” fics.  Since I can’t turn off the Merwaine hyperfixation, I decided I needed a Merwaine Mind Meld Fic in my life

So I started writing one

Basically: Merlin and Lancelot find a grievously injured Gwaine out in the woods.  It’s not looking good, and Merlin, in a last ditch attempt to save Gwaine’s life, performs a spell he had only briefly read: a spell designed to connect two people’s magic together, and he hopes that this spell will give Gwaine a boost and allow them to get him to Camelot in time.  It works, Merlin and Gaius fix him up, and Gwaine is left to recover on his own.  However, Merlin begins to notice that...the spell isn’t disappearing.  He can still feel Gwaine in a way he never could before.  So he goes to read his spell book to find out how long the spell is supposed to last, hoping it’ll disappear soon.  Especially since Gwaine doesn’t know about his magic, and he would rather it fade before Gwaine realizes something is up.

And he doesn’t like what he finds lmao

Lancelot rapped his knuckles gently against the door to the physician’s tower, before opening it quietly and looking inside.

Gaius was standing by his workbench, examining something in a vial in his hand.  He smiled a bit when he saw Lancelot.  “Ah, Lancelot,” Gaius said, voice low.  “Gwaine is still resting so we’ll have to be quiet.  But what can I do for you?”

“I just wanted to check in,” Lancelot said just as quietly, stepping in and shutting the door behind himself.  A glance to the patient cot confirmed what Gaius said: Gwaine was still asleep.  He didn’t stir when Lancelot walked in, but Lancelot could see his chest rise and fall as he breathed.  “How is he?”

“Improving.  He woke for a short while, so we managed to get some food and water in him before leaving him to his rest once more.”

Lancelot nodded, a small smile of relief coming to him.  “Is Merlin in?”

“He’s in his room,” Gaius said, turning back to whatever it was he was making.  “He’s been back there for a while now - I’m not entirely sure what he is doing.”

Lancelot nodded and thanked Gaius, before he headed further into the back.  He climbed up the two stairs, before knocking once more.  “Merlin?”

And from inside, Lancelot heard a very muffled and dejected sounding, “In here.”

He opened Merlin’s door to find the man in question lying face down on his bed, his face mashed into the pillow, and his arms to his sides - as if he had simply fallen face first onto the bed and had made no effort to reposition himself.

Lancelot was, in a word, concerned.  “…Merlin?” he asked as he stepped in and shut the door behind himself.  “Is everything alright, my friend?”

“Arthur’s right,” Merlin said, voice still muffled due to a face full of pillow.

“…in what regard?”

Merlin sighed heavily.  “In that I’m an idiot.”

He lifted an arm and pointed to his desk, but otherwise didn’t move.

Lancelot glanced between the desk and Merlin for a moment, confused and concerned still, but then he stepped over to the desk.  Merlin’s spell book was on top, opened to a page somewhere in the middle.  He skimmed it over: the spell displayed was designed to connect two people’s magic, allowing for limitless telepathic communication, empathy between the two of them, and the ability to sense where the other was.  A footnote noted that it was often used by Druids after they got married. 

Lancelot wasn’t quite understanding.  “And this is relevant because…?”

“Remember that spell I used to heal Gwaine yesterday?  The mind one?”

“I do, yes.”

“Well…that’s it.”  It was then Merlin turned his head, meeting Lancelot’s gaze.  “And it’s permanent.”

“Oh,” Lancelot said simply.  Then he realized.  “Oh!  Oh…well, oh dear, Merlin.  What do you plan to do?”

Merlin shook his head frantically as he sat up.  He gripped his hair with a hand.  “I don’t know!  I thought the spell was only to - give him a boost!  Not…tie us permanently to each other!”

Even though Merlin had just sat up, he flopped back onto the bed with a groan, and covered his face with his hands.  “He’s going to wake up and I’m going to have to explain what happened.  I didn’t even ask, Lancelot, I just did it because I wanted to help him!  I didn’t know it would do this!”

Lancelot was quiet for a moment, thinking over what to say.

He came over and sat on the edge of the bed.  “What you did saved his life.  Gwaine doesn’t strike me as the kind of man to take that lightly; I’m sure he’ll understand.”

“But what if he doesn’t want…this?” Merlin exclaimed, sitting up and gesturing wildly to himself.  “I can feel him in my mind, Lancelot.  I can feel his pain, his emotions.  Once he’s awake he’ll feel the same for me.  We’re going to be stuck like this - forever!”

“…is that really so terrible?”

Merlin blinked at Lancelot, as if he hadn’t considered that other possibility.  He let out a breath.  “…maybe not, but…it still feels wrong.  Like I’m violating his privacy.”

Lancelot considered this.  “…we’ll wait to see what Gwaine thinks,” he said calmly.  “I’m sure there’s a way to reverse it.  While the spell may be designed to be permanent, I am certain there have been people who have wanted to break it.”

Merlin met his eyes.  “And what if there isn’t?”

“Then you and Gwaine are just going to have to learn how to live with it.”