#he shows up in the dead of night and manages to get to arthurs chambers without being detected and finds him in the throes of a nightmare

[justaz]

teehee au where merlin is beloved by like all of camelot and just has everyone wrapped around his finger (not that different from canon honestly) and one day arthur is on his way out on a mission from his father that merlin insisted he be on bc uther found out about his magic and merlin just wanted arthur far away from it so he didn’t have to witness it. uther knows that merlin cares deeply for arthur and was genuine in the compromise so he allowed it. after arthur is gone, uther orders the pyre to be built and merlin is burned before sundown.

since arthur’s mission was top secret (again insisted by merlin) no one knew where he was or how to send a message to him to let him know what was happening. the citadel is ROCKED bro like a lot of them are in shock and weighed down by grief (especially the guards and knights that were forced to follow their king’s orders). this was like the first time that almost the whole citadel knew who the sorcerer was and they all adored him. organizing happens rather quickly especially with the knights and guards turning a blind eye to the conspiring of high treason that’s literally happening right in front of them.

arthur meanwhile runs into either morgause or nimueh somehow idk and they tell him about the deal his father made and shows him the contract he signed and points out the line that states the deal calls for a life to be taken in exchange for a life made which makes it clear that his father knew somebody was to die for it. he pulls a quick 180° and dashes back to camelot, arriving in the middle of the night to see fires burning high as the rioting citizens scream and shout calling for justice and listing names that seem vaguely familiar but he cant place.

arthur, already hellbent on patricide, hears the fate that befell merlin and his rage is multiplied tenfold. he marches through the streets with tunnel vision until he finds his father who seems relieved to have his son back until he draws his sword against uther. arthur doesn’t argue or insist he draw his sword. arthur just lists his two people, his mother and his merlin, much like the rioting people outside are.

uther stops him: you look down on me for building a kingdom on blood, but that is what you’ll be doing if you kill me

arthur barely blinks: then i guess i really am your son

uther’s head is paraded around the city until morning

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

The Gang FINALLY sees how much of a BAMF Merlin is:

 A smidge of Angst, but only because everyone is stupid :)

Part 4 of Merlin’s angry outburst. The Gang has ridden out (refusing to let Merlin and Arthur go alone) to a battlefield that will only have two bodies on display. One of them is Merlin’s.

This was meant to be the last bit but it was getting so long and I kept thinking of extra shit to put in soooooooo. Hopefully this is the penultimate part? But who knows lol.

TW: Lots of death (the final battle yo)

Part 1   Part 2   Part 3   Part 5

They ride the whole first day in silence. Not even Gwaine has any jokes or stupid stories to tell, and the atmosphere is tense.

The time between Morgana rushing into the council meeting, and the group riding towards what looked to be Merlin's death, had blurred by. No one really had any time to think, but now, riding in silence, all they could focus on was the fact that they were knowingly heading to what could be Merlin’s demise.

No one concentrates on anything but urging their horses to travel as fast as possible, and Arthur shortly telling everyone to stop and make camp were the first words spoken for the whole journey.

No one replies, they just dismount their horses, and wordlessly go about clearing an area for the fire, laying out food, and checking the surrounding area for danger.

Merlin stalks off before anyone can stop him, intent on setting up some wards before anyone settles down. He’s clearly pissed, and Arthur shakes his head when Lancelot gives him a look, “Want me to go with him?” .

Arthur follows instead, trusting the others to set up properly whilst he and Merlin have a much needed private conversation.

It doesn't take too long to find him. He's noticed that, recently. Ever since the link was forged he always seems to be able to find Merlin first try. Before, he had to scour the whole castle to have a chance of finding his wayward manservant (and then his wayward Court Sorcerer), and even then sometimes he couldn't manage it.

It's comforting. In a way. Knowing that they'll always be able to find one another.

Arthur sees him in the trees ahead, facing away from him, his hands up in front of his body. He can hear him muttering something that Arthur doesn’t understand under his breath.

Years ago, Arthur would think that Merlin hadn't noticed him. But Arthur knows him better now. He knows the ever so slight hitch in his Sorcerer’s left shoulder means "I hear you. I see you. I know you're there." .

"You can't know that everything's going to be ok."

Merlin sighs and turns back to look at him, still visibly frustrated with everyone’s obvious fretting. Neither make any moves to walk closer:

"Course I can. I had a chat with Kilgharrah on the way here-"

(He taps his forehead as he says this)

"-no other Emrys-killing weapons have been made, and the only one anywhere near us, is yours. As long as you don’t stab me, I'll be fine."

Arthur huffs and shuffles his feet at this:

"Merlin, the vision. You weren't waking up and you heard what Morgana said. Why are you so intent to ride to what is almost certainly going to be your death, when our armies could win this battle anyway?"

Arthur is trying to sound firm, but his face gives him away. He was never all that good at hiding his true emotions when it was just him and Merlin, and his expression is sad and desperate.

It's only at that, that Merlin walks towards Arthur, putting his hands on his shoulders:

"That vision doesn't show everything. And yes, that may have been the clearest vision Morgana has had during this whole bloody war thing, but the future is still fluid. Nothing is set in stone. Arthur, I'll be fine. And besides, an all out battle means blood spilt, theirs and ours. If I can do anything to prevent that, then there is no choice, not for me."

The King clenches his jaw, before pulling Merlin into a tight hug. The Sorcerer let's out a surprised "oof" but grips back just as tightly, burying a hand in Arthur's hair.

Arthur speaks aloud this time, so quietly Merlin barely hears it even with Arthur's face in his neck. Perhaps thinking this is important enough that it has to be vocalised:

"Why have you got to be so bloody self sacrificial? I couldn't bear to lose you, Merlin. I need you with me, by my side."

Merlin smiles slightly at that, but doesn't let go:

"I'll always be with you. Nothing in this life or the next, could pull me away from you. I...-"

He hesitates here, but Arthur tightens his grip, and he takes a deep breath before continuing:

"-...this is where I belong. Right here, right now. With you."

Arthur squeezes him once again and pulls back, gently laying his forehead against Merlin's, very reminiscent of the spell cast all those weeks ago.

The both of them keep their eyes closed, even as Arthur speaks:

"We're having a conversation about... this, when we get back. We're ALSO having a conversation about your self sacrificial tendencies."

Merlin laughs and pulls back at that:

“Only if we have a conversation about yours first.”

The King rolls his eyes fondly, and turns to walk back, but pauses momentarily, without looking back:

“I may not understand your magical mutterings, but I know that you’ve finished setting the wards up. Are you going to come back? Or are you going to come up with another excuse for you to watch me leave so you can stare at my arse?”

Merlin flushes at that, and lets out a mumbled “Shut up.” before speed walking past a laughing Arthur, towards camp.

The whole group seems to relax once they realise that the tension between Merlin and Arthur had been resolved (or at least... changed. A different type of tension. The type that made Leon want to lay their bedrolls on opposite sides of the camp).

The evening passes quietly, nothing of note happening, and soon enough, everyone is asleep.

The next few days aren’t quite as tense, but they still hurry their horses, taking few breaks. It was wordlessly agreed that they wanted to get there as quickly as possible, so that they might have time to assess the situation properly.

Everyone was still understandably worried, but with Merlin being so relaxed, and Arthur seeming ok (ish) with what was happening, they kept their anxieties to themselves.

It’s the second night they stop to make camp, that Gwaine informs them that if they keep the same pace and get up early, they should be there just before noon the next day. 

Everyone is a little tense at that, but Merlin speaks first:

“I’d say the rain isn’t going to hit until noon. If we move quickly, we should have at least a little time to plan..”

The group once again relaxes at that, grateful that they would at least have time to think things through, and check the surrounding area, before anything happened.

The relaxed atmosphere doesn’t last long, however. When they’d first stopped to make camp (that was around three hours ago now) Morgana had sat straight down, out of the way, and began to meditate. Without warning, she opens her eyes with a flash of gold, and lets a tear slip down her cheek before looking to Merlin.

He furrows his brows, and begins to speak before she can say anything:

“Morgana? What did you see?”

She lets out a humourless laugh, drawing even more worried attention from the group, before she replies:

“I’ve been trying to look past tomorrow. The near future, the far future, anything. Anything that might clue us in to the outcome. You know what I see?-”

Everyone is staring at her, clearly anxious, but she doesn’t take her eyes off Merlin, not even when Gwen places a gentle hand on her shoulder:

“-I see your mother and Gaius, quietly crying. I see Arthur, with a golden crown on his head, and a silver crown in his hands. I see a tombstone, with a name I can’t quite make out. I see your chambers, empty and cold, unlived in and covered in dust. I see... I see us. All nine of us that is, sat around our table. But one of the seats is empty, your seat. And all of us look... blank. That, is what I see, Merlin. And through all of it, I can feel your absence like a flame on my skin. I can see past tomorrow with ease. But I can’t see you.”

Morgana looks devastated. Everyone else in the group looking various mixes of shocked, scared, heartbroken.

Merlin nods slightly, and frowns staring into his lap. He was so certain that... logically, he should be fine. He’s died before and been fine. But Morgana’s visions are rarely that inaccurate, and if she’s stopped seeing his future entirely... well. It wasn’t a good sign.

He hums thoughtfully, before wiping the expression off his face and looking up determinedly:

“That changes nothing. I either do this, and everyone bar me survives, though I still think I’ll be fine, or we ignore your visions entirely, ride back to Camelot, and risk the life of every single one of Camelot’s citizens. And that’s not an option, so we’re just going to have to see what happens.”

Everyone opens their mouth to protest at the same time, but before any of them can make even a sound, Merlin jumps up, and speaks again. His voice is sharp, and invites no argument:

“NO. I said it’s not an option. This is what I do. I always used to hate the idea of a pre-written destiny, but if I’m meant to die tomorrow, then fine. So be it. I will NOT put my own life above anyone else’s. Especially not a whole kingdom’s, and ESPECIALLY not any of yours.”

He breathes deeply, and after giving a short glare to everyone individually, he sits down again. 

He’s seated between Arthur (who had barely left his side) and Percival, who takes the Sorcerer’s hand in his own, holding it in his lap.

Merlin smiles at him as he attempts to pull his hand back:

“I’m fine Perc, I don’t need comforting. I always figured I would end up dying before you lot anyway-”

Everyone shuffles uncomfortably at that. No one likes to think about outliving one of their closest friends:

“-not that I think I’m gonna stay dead anyway. But that’s not the point.”

Percival holds onto Merlin’s hand tightly, but stares into the fire as he replies quietly:

“This isn’t comfort for you, Merlin. It’s comfort for me.”

Merlin seems taken aback at this, like he had only just considered that his friends might need comforting in the first place. He forgets sometimes (read: most of the time) , that he is as important to these people, as they are to him. He can’t imagine willingly going to any of their deaths, not without putting up one hell of a fight.

He nods, after he wipes the shock from his face, and settles his hand in Percival’s, instead of trying to pull away:

“I’m sorry. I know this can’t be easy for any of you-”

(as he speaks, he lets his other hand subtly gather up the fabric of Arthur’s cloak, for his own sake or Arthur’s, he’s not sure)

“-but I need you to trust me. Believe me, I’m not trying to get myself killed permanently... I mean dying even temporarily isn’t exactly fun but... you know. I’ll be fine.”

It’s Gaius that replies first. The others were especially worried about the physician, he was practically Merlin’s father at this point, and none of them thought they could cope with having to comfort the man if they lost Merlin.

“It’s not that we don’t trust you, Merlin. We’re just... worried. And it’s not like you’re well known for considering your own safety when it comes to planning for any sort of conflict.”

Merlin looks as if he’s going to protest, but Gwen beats him to the punch:

“Don’t argue Merlin. You can’t deny that you have a habit of jumping head first into the fray.” She says it with a small smile, but it’s weak, and Merlin suddenly feels guilty for all those times he’s worried his friends. 

He threw himself into situations he was sure he would be able to survive, without considering the fact that none of the people he cared about had the same assurances. 

His reply makes everyone chuckle

“Yeah, well. You know me. I’ve never been much of a planner.-”

The Sorcerer squeezes Percival’s hand once more, before continuing:

“-But it’s late, and if we want to get up early we should head to sleep.”

The group nods in agreement, and all begin to shuffle to their bedrolls, having hushed individual conversations as Arthur declares that he and Merlin would take the first watch.

(No one questions it. They rarely set watches nowadays, Merlin’s wards have become incredibly reliable over the years, but all of them understand that The King and The Sorcerer need this time.)

Other than Merlin and Arthur, Percival was the last to leave his seat, ruffling Merlin’s hair as he gives him a weak smile, before making his way to his roll to undoubtedly toss and turn through the night, like everyone else.

The King and The Sorcerer didn’t move from their spots next to each other, and, at some point during the conversation, Arthur had replaced the clutched fabric of his cloak with his own hand.

They stay silent for a while, not really knowing what to say. Despite everyone’s worries, the rest of the group is asleep after not too long. It had been two days of hard travel and sleeping rough, and no one would admit it but they were all exhausted.

Both of them seem to realise that there was little chance of them getting to have those conversations at a later date. The two of them struggled individually on what would be worse: forcing the conversation now before it was too late but knowing that might be the end of it, or leaving everything unsaid and leaving Arthur with the regret.

Merlin was inclined to leave it unsaid. As far as he was concerned, he would still be fine (though he was now unsure if he was right, or if he was just in denial).

Arthur wanted to get it off his chest. He may be a tad emotionally constipated, but Merlin is... well... Merlin. It took him a while to realise his feelings for Merlin, but once he did, it was like an unending avalanche.

On some level, Arthur knew that Merlin felt the same, but would it be cruel? Or distracting? For him to voice it now, before everything?

He remembers saying weeks ago “We’ve plenty of time before things kick off” . But that time had passed. It had flown by. Arthur thought he would have forever with Merlin, even when the war was declared he wasn’t worried. But suddenly there was no more time. He might lose him tomorrow.

Did he want to taint what few hours they had left with an emotional confession that could wreck them both? Or should he leave it, steadfast in the belief that Merlin knew. Which would be crueller?

In the end, Arthur decided that he wouldn’t be able to live with it: the doubt, the regret, if he never said anything, and... something... happened.

He grips Merlin’s hand tighter in his own, and swallows, but before he could say anything:

“I know.” Merlin doesn’t look at him when he thinks it, but squeezes The King’s hand in return.

“No, I... you have to let me... I’ll never forgive myself if I don’t, so just-”

Merlin does look at him then, and gives him a gentle smile to stop him rambling:

“Ok, Arthur. I’m here, I’m listening, I hear you.”

Arthur meets his gaze, a steady stream of tears down his face that causes Merlin to frown slightly:

“I... Merlin-”

Arthur struggles with the words, thinking back, he can’t remember a time he’s actually said them out loud. Ever.

He clears his throat, straightens his back, and steels his eyes. Merlin deserved the truth. And Merlin felt the same, he had never been more sure of anything:

“Merlin, I love you. And if you don’t come back to me at the end of tomorrow, I will never forgive you.”

His resolve cracks slightly at the end, but Merlin smiles at him fondly, teary eyed himself:

“I love you too. And I already told you, Arthur, I will always come back to you.”

Arthur grips Merlin’s hand tighter, and buries his head in the Sorcerer’s neck. Merlin wrapped his arms around him, and leans back against the log they were sitting against.

They fall asleep like that, the two of them wrapped in Arthur’s cloak. At some point during the night, Arthur’s head had slipped down onto Merlin’s chest, but neither moved. If anything, Arthur found he could sleep easier with Merlin’s steady heartbeat in his ears.

~

The Gang woke when it was still dark, but not in the way they had planned.

They all wake with a start, automatically pulling out swords and summoning weapons, before they realise that the blizzard like wind and deafening roar, was just Kilgharrah, landing on the edge of their camp.

They settle for only a moment, before they realise that Merlin hadn’t summoned him, which meant he turned up of his own volition, and that meant he brought news. And knowing Kilgharrah, it probably wasn’t good news.

Merlin approaches him quickly, a frown on his face and Arthur close behind him:

“What is it Kilgharrah, is Camelot ok?”

The Dragon lowered his head to meet Merlin’s worried stare before replying:

“Yes, the city is safe, young Warlock. I have left Aithusa to watch over it whilst I tracked you here. The army you face is in front of you, not behind you.”

Morgana speaks up quickly after that, a frown on her face:

“What army? I haven’t foreseen any big battles in a while, believe me, I’ve been looking. The only people that should be in that meadow, is us, and whoever... and one other man.”

Kilgharrah looks over the group slowly before looking back at Merlin and replying:

“It appears, Emrys, that you will finally get a chance to show off the extent of your power. An army is waiting for you, in that meadow, and you are the only one with the capacity to defeat them.”

Merlin takes a deep breath, and clenches his hands (one of which is quickly taken by Arthur. Another example of neither of them knowing which of them the action was meant to comfort):

“I don’t know if I’m that powerful Kilgharrah, I’ve never-”

“The only reason you do not know the breadth of your power, is because you’ve never before come even close to your limits.”

“But I-”

“Your magic is tied to nature, Emrys. Use it. Bend it to your will. The entirety of the world will move at your whim, you need only ask-”

Before Merlin can reply, or ask what the hell that means, Kilgharrah lifts his head suddenly, as if hearing something, and looks briefly to Merlin once more as he replies, before flying off:

“Have faith, young Warlock, in yourself and in destiny. I must leave you now.” 

Everyone stands still, not quite in shock, but definitely confused, all bar Merlin, who just looks annoyed:

“Fucking typical. What’s the use of being a Dragon Lord if my giant pet lizard is going to be so bloody cryptic all the time.” is mumbled by the Warlock, as he looks towards the sun, just about rising over the horizon.

He sighs once more, before:

“Come on then. I suppose that was a good a wake up call as any. We should pack up and get going if we want to get a look at this army.-”

The next bit is mumbled to himself as he lets go of Arthur’s hand and wanders off to dismantle the wards:

“-And I suppose I now have half a day’s journey to figure out to beat it. That’s just great.”

It only takes a moment before the group launches into action, now freshly tense at the revelation that there was an army, and there was only ten of them.

They had faith in Merlin, and Morgana was there as well. And if everything really went to shit, there could be two dragons there to lend a helping hand (or claw) as well. But still. An army. That was big.

They’re riding out on the last leg of the journey within an hour, everyone having regained the tenseness that they had on the first day. Though all of them are slightly comforted by the fact that Kilgharrah hadn’t mentioned Merlin dying. He may be a cryptic bastard, but that definitely seemed like something he would bring up.

~

Gwaine’s directions and timings were accurate, they reached the edge of the seemingly empty meadow around half an hour before the sun hit the centre of the sky.

They remain hidden in the trees, Merlin casting a quick enchantment to shield them from being detected, before looking to Morgana and nodding.

The two of them close their eyes and stretch their arms forward, towards the meadow. A few mutterings and tilted heads later, they open their eyes. Merlin looking grim, but determined, and Morgana looking scared.

Lancelot is the first to speak:

“What is it, what’ve they go out there?”

Merlin looks at him briefly, before darkly saying:

“Why don’t I show you?”

With that, he once more raises his arm towards the meadow. His eyes glow brightly and he speaks quietly, other hand clenched at his side.

After a few moments, tendrils of light extend from his fingertips, and snake out around the perimeter of the meadow. Once the meadow is surrounded, Merlin twists his wrist sharply, and the tendrils turn inwards, shooting towards the centre point. After only a few metres they seem to meet an invisible barrier, and explode upwards towards the sky.

The light is blinding enough to force the gang to all shield their eyes, but they quickly open again when they hear an uproarious cacophony of noise.

What they see, is a huge army gathered at the far end of the field, packing up camp and preparing to move off, in the direction of Camelot.

It takes only a moment before a voice rings out above the noise, coming from somewhere around the edges:

“THE BARRIER IS DOWN!! WE CAN BE SEEN!”

A voice answers back, shouting for everyone to be prepared, that they would be noticed soon, and that the fight was coming to them.

Arthur furrowed his brow before quietly:

“That was their King, I recognise his voice. He must have sorcerers with him to keep the barrier going.”

Leon answers first:

“This is why our scouts haven’t seen anything, there’s been nothing to see.”

Merlin once again begins muttering to himself, drawing everyone’s attention to him (and also reminding them that apparently, Merlin had the power to take out the whole army) :

“Well, at least it’s smaller than I was expecting, underestimating us apparently. Sorcerers could be a problem though. Hmm.”

Morgana speaks up:

“I feel three. powerful, but not really fighters. They’re here for the barrier, and they don’t seem particularly happy about it either-”

She looks towards Merlin, face serious:

“-If you make it clear who you are... they might join us.”

Merlin hums thoughtfully, before replying:

“Depends entirely on if their fear of me outweighs their fear of him.”

The Gang looks taken aback at the mention of fearing Merlin. Elyan quietly saying:

“Why would they fear you? I know that you’re Emrys and everything, but I thought it was a Druid peace-keeping sort of thing you had going?”

Merlin looks back at the group, anger on his face, as he responds darkly:

“They’re threatening Camelot, her people, her King. I’m very much pissed off right now, of course they should be scared of me.”

Before he has time to say anything else, they notice that the army is about ready to move out, and Arthur gestures everyone to quickly get back and hide as he rushes towards Merlin:

“Merls! Ok... so, in the vision, the field was already empty when it started raining, and we have maybe 15 minutes at most before then, so what happens? Whatever we do, we need to do it now, they’re about to leave. Or maybe the field was empty because we let them go?”

Merlin responds quickly:

“No, we didn’t see the whole field in the vision remember, and this half is empty-”

He thinks for a moment, and Arthur looks towards the army, before looking back at the others, and then finally settling his eyes on Merlin once more:

“-Put your crown on, you and me are going to march across there, and they need to know who we are. The others will stay here, out of sight.”

Arthur looks worried, and put a hand on Merlin’s shoulder:

“You do know what you’re doing, don’t you?”

Merlin smiles back at him:

“Nah, figured I’d just wing in. Come on, I’m Emrys. I got this in the bag.”

Arthur frowns as Merlin chuckles, before grabbing his crown from his saddlebag. The others looks to him questioningly, but he just shakes his head, and gestures for them to stay hidden. They don’t look too pleased at that, but they follow his orders, and hide themselves and the horses among the bushes.

The King and the Sorcerer take a deep breath, before looking at each other and nodding firmly. They march out from their hiding spot amongst the trees, and make a beeline for the army, walking confidently.

Merlin made sure to walk just a step behind Arthur, and it takes only a few seconds for a lookout to spot them and yell.

The two of them stop in the middle of the empty space as the whole army looks towards them, their King stepping forward:

“Ah! King Arthur-”

The way he says King, like it disgusts him, like Arthur doesn’t deserve the title, has Merlin fuming, but he doesn’t step forward just yet.

“-It would seem that you have bought your druid pet, to beat my army. I WILL SEE YOUR HEADS ON SPIKES!”

Spittle flies from his red face as he screams the last part, and Merlin sees the way Arthur clenches his hand. Before his... friend? (can he say that after last night?) can reply in anger:

“Introduce me, and then go back to the others. I’ll be fine, he’s clearly underestimated me.”

Arthur’s back straightens, and he leaves his face blank as he shouts his reply to the angered King:

“You clearly underestimate us. This-”

(he gestures absentmindedly to Merlin, who steps forward and allows his eyes to begin glowing.)

“-is Emrys. He will make quick work of your... army.” 

Neither of them pay attention to his reply as they look at each other. The glow fades from Merlin’s eyes as he puts a hand on Arthur’s shoulder:

“Trust me, go back to the others and I’ll take care of it. All of nature is at my fingertips, apparently. Go, I love you.”

Arthur clenches his jaw and nods, before turning and walking back to the others, smiling to himself as he notices the almost transparent shield that had formed around him as he walked.

Merlin takes a few steps towards the army (which is getting louder and louder as the King makes his way through the ranks, shouting encouragement and rallying them) before stopping in place and frowning.

Unless he wants to cause issues with time, he should probably keep it as similar to the vision as he can. He looks to the side, the same place he had seen himself look four days ago, and speaks:

“ I’m sorry. But it’s coming. I can’t stop it, I tried. This is the only way. Just... relax... it’ll hurt less. Four days.”

He narrows his eyes and focuses, and he can just about make out a hazy mirror image of himself stood a few feet away:

“Arthur loves you... me..... us. Don’t let him down.”

The image fades as he takes a deep breath, and continues his march towards the army.

There’s a clap of thunder, and suddenly the skies open, Merlin frowns to himself as he mutters:

“Oh for fucks sake, why am I always right?”

The army begins their sprint towards him, and Merlin stops his quick pace, planting his feet, and raising his hands to the sky. The Sorcerer figures that there’s already a storm, and a storm is part of nature, right? He might as well take advantage.

The golden glow from his eyes is almost blinding as his brings his hands down quickly, palms facing the floor. Lightening strikes the ground with a flash and a few hundred of the men at the forefront of the army fall to not rise again.

Merlin grunts as he realises he’s going to have to try a lot harder if he’s to succeed in taking out the 12,000 angry arseholes running at him.

He continues aiming lightening at the fastest knights, nearest the front, taking out groups of them at a time.

He feels another magical presence, and he glances to the side to see a young woman at the edge of the meadow, clothes in tatters and feet bare. She meets his gaze and nods, before looking to the army and shouting a spell. The ground shakes slightly and a large chunk of the army falls into cracks into the ground.

Those his lightening had not touched finally come within reach of Merlin, and he has to jump back as swords reach for his neck. He swings one of his arms in a wide arc, and a burst of blue fire elevates the war cries around him, into screeches of agony.

He has to banish dark thoughts as the stench of burnt flesh reaches his nose, and he swings his arm wide once more, the same again.

Now with a little more space to move, though with little time before he’s crowded again, he kneels, and slams closed fists down into the mud.

The moment his skin touches the ground, the whole meadow shakes, much more than it had previously, and the whole army stumbles and falls.

There is a moment of silence and calm once the shaking stops, everyone trying to regain their bearings, but it doesn’t last long, as the ground opens. Sinkholes and cracks expand all across the meadow, thousands of men screaming as they fall into unknown depths, or drown in mud.

Merlin stares out in wonder as he realises he hasn’t said a word since the battle began. He had used no spells, the world around him simply understood what he wanted, and obeyed his orders. Nature bending to his whim indeed.

His thoughts last only a minute before he forces himself to concentrate once more. He can feel the three other sorcerers trying to protect themselves, and prevent anyone from escaping. Looks like Morgana was right. Though they were exhausted from holding the barrier in place, and even if they hadn’t been, even combined, their power was nothing compared to Merlin’s.

He pulls his arms from the ground, palms facing towards the sky (which is still pouring). As he does, every crater, every pit, closes with a snap, the field seeming suddenly much emptier as half the army, and all the previous bodies, disappear into the mud.

Only a thousand or so men remain, and, ignoring their cowardly King’s shouts (he was hidden somewhere to the right of Merlin, out of his sight. Hmmm. He would have to take care of that later.) they try to scatter into the woods surrounding the meadow.

Merlin closes his hands to fists. Vines and roots burst from the ground, all sharp thorns and gnarled wood as they speed towards the fleeing soldiers.

The screams grow louder once more as all but a few of the knights are pierced, and wrapped, and dragged towards their muddy places of burial.

Merlin stands once more, and tilts his head towards the trees with a silent request.

He smirks as the sounds of wolves reach his ears, howling and growling and rabid through the trees. That’ll do it. No one would be able to outrun them.

The battlefield lay empty. The bodies having been swallowed by the earth, or still running around piss scared in the woods.

Merlin turns towards the sorcerers standing twenty metres away, meaning to promise them safety and amnesty in Camelot, because of their immediate willingness to help, but before he can say anything, he sees their eyes widen as they look behind him in horror.

He gasps in realisation, and goes to turn and defend himself, but before he can, he staggers suddenly forward as he feels a bursting pain in his spine and spread through his chest. He looks down to see the front of a sword poking out from where his heart should be.

With his last few seconds of lucidity he jerkily waves his hand behind him and feels the King (”How could I have fucking forgotten about him? I was thinking about him literally 3 minutes ago??”) stumble back a few steps, leaving the sword behind.

Merlin falls to his knees, still staring at the end of the blade, blood dripping from his mouth as he hears an agonised yell from across the meadow.

He finally falls completely, his face angled towards the floor and his eyes fluttering as he hears a metallic *swoosh* and a *gargle* and a *thump* behind him, before Arthur falls to his knees at his back.

The last thing Merlin remembers, is hearing Arthur muttering something or other as he gets pulled towards him, but by the time his eyes look to the sky, his mind, and face, are blank.

~

THIS IS COMPLETED, PART 5 (link at the top, and in the masterlist) IS THE FINAL PART!

Let me know if y’all want my thoughts on anything in particular :)

[tiredcowpoke]

TITLE: Blank Spots [21] PAIRING: (Somewhat pre-established) Arthur Morgan/Fem!Reader, could be seen as an OC. REQUEST: Unprompted. BLURB: After waking up at the base of a steep incline and nearly freezing to death, you stumble upon a group of strangers who swear up and down that they know you. WARNINGS: Some creative license for amnesia. Violence, kidnapping, death. NOTE: Hey, it’s been a good minute since I posted another part to this. My summer hasn’t been off to the best start, but I found some motivation returning to continue this series so here we are. I hope you enjoy, I’m still trying to find my legs again so I apologize if things are a little rough. Anyway, thank you all for the patience!       TAG LIST: @on-my-way-to-erebor / @otherthingstoreid @ireallyhonestlydontcare @elanisha @darlingsdevil @cirillamylove @bunnyreese12 @rollyjogerjones @callmemythicalminx @r4reland @itsnothingwithoutchaos

The only sound that filled your ears for the last couple hours was the noise of rope feverishly rubbing against the wooden leg of the bedpost you had been tied to. 

You could feel the ache in your arms and the burn of the rope against your skin. You could feel the pain of the bruise forming along your ribs when you had been kicked around for fighting back--back when you believed you still had time to get Jack and get the hell out of this place. However, that was hours ago. A voice in the back of your head said it was too late now to try to save Jack, nightfall had darkened the room they had put you in for the time being and the sun going down had mercifully allowed things to cool off. However, you knew the window of opportunity to help that poor kid had closed. 

“Shit--” you cursed, pausing in the rubbing of the ropes that bound your wrists to pull against them in some futile attempt to snap them again, your jaw aching with how you clenched your teeth. The rope had loosened some, it was probably your only sliver of hope in this situation. Yet, the exhaustion from both the current situation you found yourself in and trying to break them for hours now was getting hard to ignore. 

With a sigh, you slumped and allowed yourself to bow your head in defeat. Momentary defeat. You had survived falling off that mountainside, you could survive this. At least, that’s what you kept repeating to yourself whenever you battled with the urge to quit. 

However, the sound of footfalls heading toward the room would have had you stilling anyway. You let out a slow breath as you heard the door open, only glancing up a moment to see the stranger there before dropping your gaze to stare hard into the floorboards. Whatever he had to say, you didn’t want to listen. 

“You gettin’ a little warm there, miss?” he asked, the tone suggesting that his words didn’t carry a single tone of compassion. “Ain’t got the best breeze back here.” 

Don’t buy into it. 

You heard him walk closer, his boots shifting into your view before you found yourself glancing up at him as he seemed to study you. After a few moments, he let out a short huff. 

“Don’t much understand the reason to keep you ‘round--then again, didn’t see much reason to take the boy neither, but he’s with them Italian fellers now.” 

That news had you dropping your gaze, pressing your lips into a thin line as you shook your head. It only just confirmed what you had been thinking, but it still pulled at that terrible sense of guilt in your gut. Should have done more for him, should have fought harder. 

“Though, heard you got a nice little number on your head. Given those folk you ride with murdered all those Greys in town, figure we’re keepin’ you around to offer the new lawmen that step up to that. Don’t know yet.” 

That information was dropped on you like he was talking about the weather, your gaze lifting back up despite yourself in some confusion. You figured you would have had a bounty from when you had been riding with the gang previously, but it was another memory that you didn’t really have or could recount exactly how much was on your head. Apparently it was enough for them to keep you alive, if only to collect on it later. 

There wasn’t going to be a later, you were going to make sure of that. 

“Why are you telling me this?” you asked after a few moments, catching his attention as he was about to turn to leave from the looks of things. 

“Figured you might give me some reason in why we are keepin’ you here,” he said with a light shrug, cocky and nonchalant. Well, you guessed that was all you were going to give you, falling back into your lapse of silence. 

Eventually, he turned and walked back toward the door, bored or moving on to more important matters. However, upon hearing the door shut once again, you renewed your attempts at fraying the ropes. God, you knew the pain once you were free was going to be rough, but you couldn’t sit by and wait for whatever resolution this was coming to. 

You knew the gang wouldn’t sit by and let Jack get kidnapped, and you figured that them taking him meant that the Braithwaites were counting on them showing up eventually. 

                                                          ***

The first tug and snap you felt of a rope finally being cut was almost in time with the first sounds of gunfire. The feeling pulled a short somewhat breathless laugh from you. Night had fallen, leaving the room to be cast only in the dim light from one of the candles as you sat there with a small, relieved grin. Still, you knew your time was limited and you had to get yourself free before things only continued to escalate. While it took a couple more attempts to release the rest, the ones that came after were somewhat easier and eventually you were able to free your hands. 

You could feel the ache in your limbs, hands, and fingers as you rubbed lightly at the angry red and bruising marks on your wrists. However, the commotion growing louder and closer had you lifting your head toward the door. You weren’t too sure just what was happening, but if there was a chance that the gang had shown up, you needed to get out to them. Debating on if you should sit for a while, wait to see if your ‘guard’ returned, you decided that was just wasting more time. 

You gathered yourself to a stand somewhat unevenly, the ache in your limbs and the light swaying in your head from where you had been hit a couple hours ago made you pause for a few moments. 

Being unarmed, you knew there wouldn’t be much of a chance for you to fight your way out. However, with the chaos, you figured it might give you enough cover. 

Heart in your throat, you moved toward the door. Move down a couple hallways and this could be over, yet it didn’t seem like things were going to play out that way. In the time you had taken to get yourself out of the bindings, the man from before had been making it back toward the room. So, as you reached the door, it swung open to reveal him standing there. It had to have only been a moment, but the seconds that ticked by as your hope dropped down into the pit of panic that formed in your stomach felt like whole minutes. 

Instantly, he reached down into his holster to remove his gun and you moved without thinking as you lunged at him. Given the hours of physical exhaustion that weighed on your limbs in your attempts to escape and him already riled up from the gunfight, it was a bit of a futile attempt. Yet, it was enough to keep you from getting a bullet to the gut or worse, slamming your body against his that knocked you back against a table. 

He shoved you back hard, the motion giving you a moment to grab at his firing arm as you tried to make a grab for his weapon. He fired off a shot, the noise putting a dull ringing to your ears. Still, you kept your hold until he struck you in the side that sent you buckling at the knees somewhat, ripping his arm from your grasp that sent you tumbling to the floor. 

You glanced up as he stepped quickly toward you, hearing the click of a bullet being loaded into the chamber as he aimed the weapon down at you. However, if he intended to kill you, he seemed to be a little slow to do so and you acted without thinking. You lashed out, kicking him hard in the knee, the sudden motion and attack sending him stumbling down almost on top of you. The clamouring for the weapon began again, this time you managing to rip the weapon from his hands. Your captor tried to pin you to the floor, pressing hard against the side of your head and tried to hold your arm down. However, you managed to shift the weapon up and fired off a shot. 

You had felt the barrel come into contact with the side of his vest, the bullet ripping into his side as he let out a loud howl at the pain. In doing so, it gave you enough time to shift him back, ignoring the fresh blood that stained your torso as he seemed to push himself off you. Though, you almost didn’t register what happened next. 

He had risen up somewhat on his knees, your gaze catching the murderous intent in his own, and then a bullet from behind seemed to rip through the top of his skull. 

Scurrying back, you shoved him fully away as he fell forward, completely dead. Not really registering who had just shown up in the doorway, you raised the weapon up as they stepped toward you. Thankfully, you hadn’t quite had the mind to fire off a shot before the familiar voice seemed to break through the rushing in your ears. 

“Easy! Easy, it’s John!” 

You stared up at him for a moment, taking him in before the small bit of relief settled. With a small exhale, you lowered the weapon as you glanced toward the man you both had just killed. 

“Is Jack with you?” he asked, the question causing him to look up at him. 

“What?”

“Jack.” 

“No--No, he’s...he’s not here,” you said, trying to gather yourself to a stand. You could feel the pain in your ribs from the struggle, but it certainly could have ended worse. 

“...Damn it,” John cursed to himself before he reached out to help steady you somewhat, “C’mon, we need to get outta here.” 

You nodded almost numbly, following him out toward the main part of the house. You could hear that woman yelling vaguely, the smell of fire and smoke hitting your nostrils. God, if John hadn’t found that room or if you hadn’t found a way out of there, they would have burned you down with the rest of the building unaware. Did all of this really happen in only a couple hours? It was clearly night once you were back outside, lights from the lanterns and the building that was slowly starting to burn to the ground. Still, in the commotion, your thoughts fluttered by without too much reaction from you. 

That woman, the Braithwaite, was kneeled on the ground. You could only vaguely pick up on her saying something about Bronte, the name pulling hard at the guilt and fear in your gut you had over Jack. You could have done more, should have done more. Reasonably, you knew trying to escape with him when you had been tied up and had to work all day to get the ropes cut was impossible. Given the time frame, you had already been working against the clock even before you knew you were. 

Still, it was a hard feeling to shake. 

However, the sound of your name broke you from that train of thought as John led you toward where the gang’s horses were. Arthur stepped forward, placing a hand against your shoulder as he seemed to look you over somewhat. 

“Couldn’t find you anywhere, thought they’d moved you along,” he said after a moment. 

“Would’ve left without any the wiser if I hadn’t heard the gunshot,” John commented, sounding exhausted. Considering what was happening, you couldn’t blame him. “Got there just in time, I’d say.” 

“They were keeping me and were going to hand me over to the sheriff as some sort of...I don’t know,” you replied, finally finding your voice, “John...thank you. I’m...I’m so sorry about Jack.” 

John gave you a short nod, “C’mon, we need to get back to camp.” 

“Yeah, you’ll ride with me,” Arthur said, placing a hand between your shoulder blades and he walked with you toward a familiar horse. 

You were going back to camp, this whole ordeal was over yet in a way it certainly wasn’t. You couldn’t bring yourself to glance behind you, wanting no more than anything to get the hell out of there. Arthur climbed into the saddle behind you somewhat, seeming to catch onto the exhaustion in your limbs as he wrapped an arm around your middle before starting the ride back to camp. 

“They hurt you?” he asked after a few moments, “You’re covered in blood.” 

“No, it’s--it’s not mine,” you replied, keeping your gaze on the path ahead of you as Arthur continued on at a steady pace. 

Thankfully, he didn’t say anything further as you both continued on down the path. However, your mind lingered on the events of the past couple hours. God, you had no idea just how your day was going to turn, worrying about Arthur when you should have been doing so about yourself and Jack. You thought about killing that man back there, firing a shot into his side and John planting one in his skull in your hesitance to do more. There was a part of you that hated that--what’d happened to you? It never used to be like this, did it? Stilling at the thought of violence and defending yourself? Couldn’t even protect a damn kid? 

“Hey,” you heard Arthur’s voice in your ear, suddenly feeling the warmth of his chest against your back, the tightness of his arms around you. The two of you weren’t moving anymore, stopped just off the path you were taking back to camp. You hadn’t been aware of the way you had started breathing, the stinging at your eyes and the shaking in your limbs. 

“It’s okay,” he continued, “Ain’t gonna let somethin’ like that happen to you again.” 

“It’s not that,” you replied after a moment, letting out a shaky breath, “I was there with Jack, I knew they had Bronte coming to take him and I did nothing. I could’ve done something and I didn’t.” 

“That ain’t your fault,” Arthur muttered, not releasing his hold as much as a part of you didn’t feel like you deserved the comfort. Still, you couldn’t help the way you were leaning back against him, even if he was holding you there himself. 

“I don’t know,” you muttered, blinking back some tears. 

“We’re gonna get the boy back, he’ll be just fine,” Arthur said, “Nobody in that camp is just goin’ to let him be taken, made that clear tonight. Might’ve damn well lost you in that, too, if John hadn’t been listenin’.” 

You weren’t too sure about that, you had gotten out by the time John had shown up. Though, you didn’t have the energy to argue that in the moment, knowing that they knew you were taken with Jack must have worried him too. With a small exhale, you brought a hand up to grip at his forearm comfortingly. 

“I want to help get Jack back,” you said, “even if it’s in the smallest of ways.” 

“We ain’t sure just how these fellers are,” Arthur replied after a moment, loosening his hold somewhat, “With everybody we just lost, I don’t know if…” 

“Lost?” you asked, turning your head slightly as much as you couldn’t face him fully in the saddle. You saw him nod softly out of the corner of your eye, Arthur letting out a sigh. 

“Yeah, Sean…” he muttered, “Them Greys set us up in town, he got shot and died before we could do anythin’.”

“...God,” you replied, shaking your head lightly as you felt your shoulders drop. 

You and Sean weren’t close, the last time you had really spent any time with him was on that terrible robbery job and now...shit. You weren’t even sure how Karen was going to take this either, you knew she and him were an item. How did all of this happen on the same day? It was...you had no idea how to feel. 

Awful. You felt awful. 

“Yeah. So, maybe you can understand my hesitance to let ya run headlong into danger,” he replied, spurring his horse into a trot again as you shook your head lightly. 

“I know, I understand. However...I need to do this. Please.” 

“...I can’t say I’m gonna enjoy it, but I can’t hold you down if you’re gonna be doin’ this,” Arthur replied, “Least give me some peace of mind to make sure you ain’t doin’ anythin’ alone if you’re helpin’ get Jack back.” 

“Fine,” you replied with a nod--that was more than fine. You weren’t going to pretend that you could get that kid back by yourself, but you wanted to try. Hell, you were still trying to process Sean on top of everything else, you knew you probably weren’t thinking too clearly. 

Still, you reached down to where his arm was wrapped around you, wrapping your fingers around his own. A silent thanks, you knew given the situation he could have been a hell of a lot less negotiable. 

You just wanted to help, if only to make up for the trauma that poor kid has likely gone through. Even somewhat. 

[mca-attack21]

Surprise (Part 2)

Sorry guys, apparently this part got deleted. You can find part 1: here and the final part: here as for the masterlist containing more of my writing look: here. This is just the beginning for Merlin imagines on this blog, I just watched the show for the first time and in love.

Before long, Gaius came in to check on you. He quickly grew concerned as there were no signs of improvement. In fact, you seemed worse than when you were brought in earlier. He quickly checked your bandages and instead of red, your blood was seemingly black.

“Merlin, take a look at this,” Gaius summoned the young warlock.

“What does it mean?”

“It means that this was no ordinary wound. You need to get Arthur at once.”

Merlin made his way into the meeting room and was trying to figure out the best way to get Arthur’s attention when he caught his eye and caused the king to stop in the middle of his sentence. “Is Y/n awake?”

Merlin just managed to shake his head, “Gaius needs you at once Sire, it is urgent.”

“Excuse me,” Arthur said to his knights and counsel members before all but running up the stairs to his chambers.

“What happened?” he asked.

“It seems that she is getting worse. Her wound is infected and it is spreading. Her pulse and breathing have slowed and she is on the border of fever. Though it is not from the wound itself, but rather I think what dealt the wound. I need to see the dagger to see if we are dealing with a poison or some form of sorcery, Sire. Until then, I’m afraid that there is little I can do.”

“Of course. Merlin, go fetch it, I put it in my saddle-bag.” 

“Right away Arthur.”

When Merlin grabbed it, he could feel the power it possessed. He quickly brought it up to Gaius whose face paled at the sight of it, which Arthur noticed.

“What is it Gaius? Have you seen it before?”

“I’m afraid I have Sire, it is the blade of Karaus an evil sorcerer who had it forged in the dragon’s breath and enchanted so that any any injury caused by the blade no matter how minor would be fatal to any enemy alive or dead.”

“So there is no cure? She is going to die and there is nothing we can do about it?” Arthur asked quickly wiping away a stray tear.

“The only way to save her is to destroy the dagger itself. But to do that you would need another blade forged in the fire’s breath and a powerful sorcerer. Even then, she doesn’t have much time. All I can do is try to keep her comfortable. I’m truly sorry Sire.”

“How long does she have?” Arthur asked never taking his eyes off you. 

“2-3 days at most.”

“I can ride and try to find Dragoon, he has helped us before. If anyone knows where to find such a blade he will,” Merlin spoke up already beginning to hatch his own plan.

“I will come with you, we can leave at first light,” Arthur spoke. 

“I don’t think that is wise Arthur.”

“Why not?”

“Because if I fail and Y/n dies, you should be at her side. I don’t think you would ever forgive yourself if you weren’t.”

“I suppose you are right, but how will you even know where to find the sorcerer?” Arthur asked.

“I can reach out to some of my contacts, one of them is bound to know where he is staying these days.”

“Okay, take anything you need Merlin. Promise the sorcerer anything he wants.”

“Yes Arthur.”

---

Later, Gaius reentered his chambers to find Merlin packing. “Where exactly are you planning to get such a sword? And the spell to break the enchantment?”

“The sword is easy, I just have to travel to the Lake of Avalon and retrieve Excalibur. As for the spell, I was hoping you could help me with that one.”

“Avalon is at least a two days journey, and that is with no hindrances, I don’t know if Y/n will hold out that long,” Gaius reminded.

“It would be a two day journey if I were going by horse. I plan to use a much faster mode of transportation,” Merlin smirked.

“Kilgharrah,” Gaius realized.

“Y/n saved his life once, he owes her a debt,” Merlin explained,

“Do you have any idea what spell it will take to destroy the blade?”

“Go grab me that book over there, the one with the black binding.”

After searching the pages Gaius found what he was looking for. “This spell is meant to take the enchantment off of any object. So you cast this spell, it makes the blade a weapon forged in the dragon’s breath, then you take Excalibur and destroy it once and for all.”

“And then Y/n will be fine?”

“Once the blade is destroyed, so is its magic. The queen will begin to recover immediately.”

“Okay, sounds great. Just another day in the life of Merlin,” Merlin joked.

“There is something else that you need to know,”

“What is it Gaius?”

“This blade is powerful in a way that no other weapon will ever be. And it is evil. It will do everything in its power to draw you to evil as you carry it and will fight against its destruction.”

“Anything else?” Merlin asked sarcastically.

“No, that’s it.”

Merlin had trouble sleeping that night. He was feeling overwhelmed by the task ahead. Normally in these situations, you were the one he would turn to. You know about his magic and had always been there for him. He eventually overcame his restlessness and drifted off. The next morning Gaius woke him at first light. He quickly grabbed his bag before promising Gaius that he would be careful.

He decided to go up to see you, just incase something were to go wrong. It was clear to him that your fever had set in sometime during the night. He set a his bags down and went to get a cool rag to place on your forehead. He then repositioned Arthur who had fallen asleep with his head on the side of your bed and covered him up with a blanket.

Both very drowsy and disoriented, Arthur was brought out of his sleep. “Merlin?” 

“Yes Arthur?”

“How is she?”

“The fever has set in, other than that there is no change.”

“Is everything prepared for your journey?”

“Yes, I am just about to leave.”

“I can’t express how much this means to me.”

“Anything to get a day away from you,” Merlin joked.

“I’m serious Merlin. It kills me not to be riding out with you. But if I did have to send anyone, I am glad it is you. I trust you will do everything in your power to save her. Either way I will forever be indebted to you.”

“Thank you Arthur, I won’t let you down, I promise.”

And with that he set off. He made his way out to meet Kilgharrah, trying to mentally prepare for the journey ahead.

“​Δράκος Χρειάζομαι βοήθεια για την Y/n που πεθαίνει” he spoke.

He was not forced to wait long before Kilgharrah touched down.

“Hello, young warlock. Tell me what happened and how I can help Y/n,” the dragon spoke.

“She was stabbed by Karaus’ dagger. I am going to destroy it and need to get to Avalon. Gaius believes she only has a day or two at most, which is why I called you. I need a ride. I know that Y/n once saved your life, please, help me save hers,” Merlin pleaded.

“Hop on,” Kilgharrah said without hesitation. And thus their journey began. The flight was quiet. Merlin was simply taking in the sights. From that high in the air everything seemed so small, so insignificant. Yet at the same time, it was breathtaking and interconnected.

Meanwhile:

“What do you mean that they failed to kill Arthur?” Morgana demanded.

“Your men attacked Arthur and Y/n as they were alone, but were taken out,” Agravaine revealed.

“Fools! All it took was the smallest of papercuts and Arthur would be dead,” Morgana yelled.

“All is not lost, My lady, for the queen was stroke my the dagger. Arthur is distracted, now is a great time to strike Camelot.”

“Where is the dagger now?” Morgana asked.

“The king’s servant took it, he is trying to find some sorcerer to break its spell.”

“We need to find the dagger.”

“We need to take this opportunity to attack Camelot.”

Morgana used her power to choke Agravaine and force him to listen, “That dagger is one of the few things that can kill Emrys. And, it can kill me. We will focus on nothing else until it is back in my possession.”

“Yes, my lady, I will send my men out at once.”

Back in Camelot:

“How is she Gaius?”

“Her fever is dangerously high Sire and none of my potions seem to be having any effect. I am afraid that she will not meet the sunrise. Right now all we can do is to keep her warm and hope Merlin is successful.”

Arthur stared down at you. He couldn’t comprehend how so much had gone wrong in a span of 24 hours. Yesterday, he was the happiest he had been in a long time and now he felt as if his entire world had been turned upside down.

The thought of never hearing your laugh again or seeing your smile. The thought of ruling Camelot without you by his side, it was almost too much to bear.

Arthur re-wet the rag before crawling in the bed beside you and carefully pulling you into his lap and readjusting the blankets. He placed the rag on your already damp forehead and stayed in that position just holding you and taking comfort in your presence.

Meanwhile with Merlin:

“This is as far as I can take you young Warlock, I will wait here for your return.”

“Thank you ​Kilgharrah,” Merlin said already on his way to the lake.

“Merlin,” the dragon called, “the battle for Y/n’s life now truly begins, her fate is in your hands,”

Merlin nodded his head in acknowledgement and began his journey forward. But even as he entered the wooded area, the path became darker. His legs grew heavy and his mind tired.

“The dagger possesses great power, a power that could build your own Emrys,” a voice filled Merlin’s head.

“It is a dark power and it needs to be destroyed,” Merlin shot back.

“Think of the potential, it could be used to take out Morgana. To take out anyone who you deem a threat to Camelot. All it takes is the smallest of pricks,” The force showed him images of him standing over Morgana.

“No one should have that much power,” Merlin reasoned.

“Maybe others shouldn’t, but you Emrys are a great sorcerer, you could manage it. You could use it for good, to protect Arthur and your destiny,” the Force persuaded.

“Y/n is dying,” Merlin replied as he pushed forward.

“You are too late, She is already dead,” the Force showed Merlin Y/n dying in Arthur’s arms and his reaction.

“No, she isn’t. You’re lying”

“Keep the dagger and seek your revenge on Morgana. End her plight once and for all.”

“No. There will be another way, a better way,” Merlin said as his head was now pounding. This force was pushing back against him with everything it had. So he retaliated with positive thoughts, memories of his friends and family, of Camelot, of Arthur, of Y/n, of his dream for the future of Albion.

As Merlin looked up he noticed that he had made it to the water’s edge. He set it on the ground and summoned his strength before reciting the spell that Giaus had given him. As soon as that was done, he turned to the lake where Freya was already offering Excalibur. Merlin quickly took the sword and destroyed the dagger which disappeared into black smoke. With it, an enormous weight seemed to lift off his shoulders.

“Thank you,” he said to Freya as he tossed her back the sword. His journey through the woods to Kilgharrah was much quicker this time round.

“Congratulations Merlin, what you have just done was no easy task, it took incredible strength and courage,” the dragon spoke.

“I could not have done it without you my friend, I just hope that we made it in time.”

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Come Home

Prompts: Omg ur twins series has given me the seratonin I didn’t know I needed ;-; love ur fics!!! can I request maybe a one shot where Merlin confronts hunith about his birth parents, and they have a wholesome talk about it? Also bonus points for Merlin coming to terms with the fact that uther is his father and Morgana is his half sister (everyone notices now that they share similar features) - anon

ahhhh i loved the second installment of the twin series, the ending makes me yearn for more no matter how much i reread it *prompt idea* brotherly love pleaseeee, you've built so much hype 😭 some overprotective arthur over his younger brother, maybe some asshole noble treating merlin like shit because he grew up peasant, a merlin-arthur talk about feelings and new revelations, merlin-morgana-arthur talk (maybe?) take as long as you want really, no pressure i know it'll be worth it but a bit longer third installment please 💘 - anon

I have a very simple request oh ruler of the angst town. You've been graciously filling the stomachs of the Sanders Sides fandom but the Merlin fandom requests one thing: More, please, oh good lord. Thank you - alittletoo-obsessed

SO MANY OF YOU WERE SCREAMING FOR A PART THREE SO HERE YOU GO

Read on Ao3

Warnings: none, babes.

Pairings: it's found family hours

Word Count: 4574

The twins come home.

After a long, long time, the twins come home.

For Arthur, home is that empty space just over his shoulder, always there when he turns absentmindedly to talk to someone he never thought he’d see again. Home is someone to curl up with when the nights get cold and lonely, dark hair brushing under the tip of his nose as he wraps them in his arms. Home is someone else to see what’s happening, to stand as a silent vow of I’m here, I see you, I’m with you, I’ve got you.

For Merlin, home is someone who knows he’s not crazy, who catches him when he flies too high on the wings of his magic. Home is someone who wraps firm, solid arms around him, smelling of slightly spiced fruit and afternoon sun. Home is the space the magic curls about, searching for something to hold onto like an anchor as the world spins faster, faster, faster.

They leave the hall where Uther still sits, thunderstruck on his hollow throne, back to Arthur’s chambers. They don’t part when they get inside, stumbling across the room to the bed, somewhere they can sit and look and look at each other where there is no one else can see. Arthur reaches out to run his hand through Merlin’s hair.

“I always thought your hair would be dark,” he mumbles, losing himself in the way his fingers card through the strands. “Just had a feeling.”

“Mum’s hair was never dark enough to be mine.” Merlin closes his eyes as he feels Arthur’s hand go through it. “And—and Balinor, he—he wasn’t the right magic.”

Arthur’s hand stills. “Balinor was your father?”

“He was married to Hunith, he—but—“

Arthur’s arms are suddenly around him, warm and perfect and real and it feels like something else slots into place. Arthur’s breath warms the top of his head and Merlin feels his fingertips start to buzz.

“I’m sorry,” he realizes Arthur’s saying, “I didn’t—if I’d’ve known, I would’ve—“

They will come to find that they don’t need words. Merlin just buries his nose in the crook of Arthur’s neck and breathes in the smell of home.

“I kept the blanket I was taken in,” he mumbles, “and it smelled like this.”

“Like—like me?”

Merlin nods. “Fruit. Sunlight. Warm.”

“Warm doesn’t have a smell, Merlin.”

“Sure it does.”

“What does it smell like, then?”

“Warm! You don’t explain what apples smell like, they just smell like apple.”

“Sure you can, they smell tart, a little sweet, but it’s a thin smell, it’s not rich.”

“Where and why do you know how to describe smells so well?”

“Morgana went through an alchemy phase, dragged me into being her test subject.”

Merlin snorts, nuzzling deeper into Arthur’s warmth. “I imagine you reeked of an awful assortment of perfumes.”

“Oh, it was an excellent way to get out of court duty.”

They laugh together. Then Merlin quiets, burying his nose in the smell of home and willing his magic to help him come up with something.

“…it’s barely noticeable,” he says quietly, “but it’s…it’s there. It’s slightly, um, it smells a bit like old leather, or old wood, but it’s…it’s earthier.”

Arthur’s quiet for a moment, then Merlin feels his head turn and bury into Merlin’s hair.

“I always thought you’d be colder.” His arms tighten slightly, as if he can feel how Merlin’s magic is trying to pull him closer—and hey, maybe he can. “I—you used to get really strong on winter nights. I used to imagine that you’d—you’d be cold and it was my job to keep you warm and if you were warm, you’d—you’d stay.”

“I’ll stay,” Merlin says immediately, “I’ll stay.”

“You’d better.”

For Arthur, it’s finally seeing that figure sprinting ahead of him, goading him to chase faster and faster. It’s hearing about how cruel bullies were and sternly promising that if anyone ever tries anything like that again, he’ll kick their arse. It’s hearing a mumbles admission of crying while angry and promising that he’ll never judge Merlin for crying, not when he’s here to protect him.

For Merlin, it’s his magic finally having both of them to wrap its blanket around, someone else to hold him firmly when it can’t do the job itself. It’s hearing about how lonely life as a prince can be and vowing that he’s just going to sit next to Arthur and damn all the customs. It’s hearing about the cruelty of a king that didn’t know how to be a father first and muttering that Uther would see what the bloody hell he was doing wrong.

It’s home.

——————————————

News that Uther has another son spreads like a sickness in the castle. Servants whisper that the long-lost boy has returned, that the curse of the dead queen has lifted because her son is back, that finally, finally, Uther will stop the hell-path he’s wrought upon the kingdom.

Servants whisper that the nobles won’t like this. That they’re sick of having to put up with Arthur already, that if there’s another son, they’ll have another obstacle in their path.

Some nobles are clever.

They know that if Uther has a peasant son, he’ll have to make the boy a noble or denounce him completely. Or, and this is not a very likely option, he’ll have to accept that he has one royal son and one peasant son.

Some nobles aren’t clever.

They think that if Uther has another son, it doesn’t matter.

The nobles that know the knights know that they won’t be able to get within ten feet of Merlin. Many of them don’t want to. They’re not quite sure what position Merlin holds in court, but it’s not a manservant’s. They know that the boy who came to Camelot and managed to get the prince to shut up for once is a good one. Some of them hold the opinion that if Uther is what he made his son into, he might actually listen to the boy as well.

The nobles that don’t know the knights are stupid.

One such noble decides that it doesn’t matter whether or not the boy is of royal blood, the king hasn’t claimed him, and thus he is still a peasant.

He decides, in his infinite wisdom, to humiliate the boy by dousing him with wine for forgetting to thank him for giving him an order.

Merlin has been covered with wine before, this isn’t new to him. What is new is that he has a brother that takes great pleasure in dragging the unsuspecting noble to the front of the room and publicly shaming him.

“Have you so little sense of yourself that you must stoop to the humiliation of others for your own amusement? Perhaps if you spent more time thinking of what to do with your words you wouldn’t be so intimidated by the confidence of someone else. I would be surprised to learn if you had a mind since your only defense is to sling wine all over someone’s front. You are a disgrace to everything you proclaim to be and I would be ashamed of you if you were one of my men.”

It’s not the most direct way to banish someone and strip them of their place in court, but it is one of the more entertaining.

Of course, when a noble is demoted to a knight, he ends up at the mercy of the elder knights on the training field. It’s one of the only times Gwaine shows up promptly for a training session.

Merlin mumbles that Arthur didn’t have to do that, that he’s had worse, but later in the privacy of their rooms, Arthur says that he’s making up for the years where he wasn’t there.

“And it wasn’t just for you, it was for the knights too.”

“How noble.”

——————————————

It’s in the way Arthur still tries to turn into the tower corridor that first tips Merlin off. It’s the way his hands still twitch toward an old sword hanging on the wall. It’s the way he turns to his other side, not where Merlin always stands, expecting someone to be there. It’s the way he looks at the other side of Uther’s throne, expecting there to be another one.

It’s the way Merlin knows what feels like to miss another half of yourself.

“I want to find her,” he says quietly after a long day, “she’s your sister.”

Arthur pauses, fingers faltering on the edge of a cabinet. His head bows low.

“She is, Arthur,” Merlin says, standing, “and she’s mine too.”

“I know.”

“There’s still good in her, Arthur, I know there is.”

“I know.”

“I—“ Merlin swallows. “I’m to blame for what she’s become, I’m the one who poisoned her.”

“I’m the one who drove her away from the start,” Arthur says, a rueful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, “I’m not blameless either.”

There’s a pause.

Arthur glances at Merlin. “There was a time when I thought you were her. That the—the person I was missing was her.”

“She’s magic too, it makes sense.”

Arthur nods, staring into space. “But she wasn’t you. Her—I guess I didn’t know it was magic, then, but her—her magic never felt right.”

He turns to take a hunting satchel down from the hook.

“Do you know how to find her?”

“Yes,” Merlin says, “but you’re not coming.”

“What?”

Merlin holds his hands up. “She’ll try to kill you, you know it. She won’t listen to you. Not at first.”

“And she won’t try to kill you? You poisoned her!”

“I have magic. She can’t beat me.”

“Merlin.”

“I’ll be safe!”

“When have you ever been safe in your life?”

“Like you’re in any position to judge!”

The bickering continues until Merlin grabs Arthur’s arm and tells him that he needs to do this. That it has to be him, only him, that he knows how to reach Morgana in a way that Arthur can’t.

Arthur lets him go with a strict promise to be back in a fortnight, no more.

Merlin knows how to find Morgana. Arthur’s connection to magic isn’t like his, but he is born of the stuff. And so is Morgana.

There’s a tingle in Merlin’s fingertips non-stop when he’s in Camelot, his magic tugging him towards Arthur and the magic in him. But Uther’s blood flows in both of their veins, so if he focuses, he can find Morgana.

His travels lead him to a forest home, modest and slight, but secure enough that he knows he can’t just walk in. There are half a dozen places where she could be hiding nearby, half a dozen more where traps could be. So he picks his way carefully through the undergrowth and knocks on her door.

He expects to be knocked out and strung up. He doesn’t expect her to raise an eyebrow and try and bind him with a curse.

He bats the curse away without trying to hide the way his eyes glow gold.

Morgana’s eyes widen and she stumbles back. He raises his hands and weathers the spitting, the curses—just cusses, this time—of his betrayal, how dare he, and apologizes.

“You were the vessel,” he says as his only defense, “I didn’t think there was any other way.”

“And what if you told me?” She draws herself up, looking every bit the queen she was born to be. “I could’ve helped! Perhaps I would’ve taken it of my own free will, you had no right to strip me of that choice.”

“I know. And I am sorry. For all of it. For not telling you, for trying to kill you, for—for everything.”

She evaluates him cooly. “Well, I suppose that’s that, then? You want me to accept your apology and toddle back to Camelot?”

And the thing is…he can see it now.

He and Arthur don’t share that many features, but he and Morgana…

It’s the angular jaw. The way the nose slopes slightly to the right instead of the left. The way one eye is a little bit longer than the other. The dark hair, wavy but not too wavy. The slender build, the sharp shoulders.

The way their magic curls about their fingertips before the spell is cast.

Morgana seems to notice him staring and frowns, snapping her fingers in front of his face.

“Sorry,” he manages, still marveling at how he never noticed, “sorry, I just…”

“Just…what?”

His magic thrums in his hands, telling him to let it go, reach out to their sister, help her see. He obeys, opening his hand and letting the magic swirl up, into the air. Morgana’s eyes widen and she takes a step back, preparing a defensive spell of her own only for her jaw to drop as her magic touches Merlin’s.

It doesn’t feel like coming home, not like finding Arthur did, but it feels like something.

“What…how is this possible?”

“I’m your brother,” Merlin whispers, peering through the lattice of magic, “I—you’re my sister.”

At the word ‘sister,’ something in Morgana’s magic flinches. Merlin frowns, peering closer, eyes widening when he notices a dark patch, almost as if the magic is bruised from being constrained. His own magic touches it carefully, recoiling in shock.

“What is that? Morgana, what happened to you?”

She rubs her wrist absent-mindedly, her face contorting into a scowl. “The last person to call me ‘sister.’”

Merlin’s eyes widen. Morgana retracts her magic, burying it deep inside herself and taking a deep breath. When she looks at Merlin again, she looks almost like the woman Merlin met in Camelot.

“So. That means Arthur’s your brother too.”

Merlin nods. “I was…we were born of the same magic.”

“And that makes Uther your father.”

Merlin's face contorts in rage and Morgana snorts.

“Yes, that was my reaction too.”

“Balinor was my father,” Merlin says firmly, curling his hands into fists, “Uther is not.”

“But you have his blood,” Morgana says quietly, not meaning to hurt, just to inform, “and you are bound to him. Just as I am.”

Now it is Merlin that has to look desperately at Morgana, hoping for it to be anything other than the truth.

“You can’t have Arthur without Uther, Merlin,” she murmurs, “you have to accept that. You can’t have Arthur without Camelot. You can’t have your brother without your father.”

“And what about my sister?”

Her smile is sad. “I had neither for a long time.”

“I just got my sister,” Merlin says firmly, “I’m not letting her go again.”

“Oh, and that’s your decision, is it?”

Merlin blinks. “Um—well, I mean—if—if that’s okay with you—“

Her laugh is high, like pealing bells, and it makes him smile to hear it. “How you manage to switch between those two will always astound me. No wonder no one else ever figured out you had magic.”

“Excuse you, I did a perfectly good job at hiding my magic.”

“Gaius used to scream about it with the door open, Merlin, that’s not exactly subtle.”

“How is that my fault?”

She giggles and oh, is this what it’s like to have a sister?

Their laughter ends and Morgana crosses her arms, head bowed as she thinks. Merlin lets his magic flutter around the room, cleaning up, until she raises her head again.

“Do you think Uther can change?”

Merlin sighs. “I don’t know. But I do know we can change the minds of everyone else.”

“Starting with Arthur, I presume?”

“Arthur. The knights. Most of the council. The servants.”

“Got a plan for this, do you?”

“…not really good at plans.”

“Well, no, not if most of them involve poisoning sisters.”

“Hey!”

Morgana laughs again, then her smile softens and she rushes forward to wrap her arms around Merlin.

“Your magic feels warm,” she mumbles, “not like Morgause’s. Maybe I’ll enjoy being your sister.”

“And Arthur’s?”

“If he can pull his head out of his arse, we’ll see.” She lets him go and walks toward the front of the house.

“Wait! Where are you going?”

“To see if we can both pull his head out of his arse, it’s so big we’ll need the two of us.”

“Right now?”

“Unless you think I should wait?” There it is. The tiniest hint of vulnerability in the way her voice wobbles at the end.

A question of whether Morgana would actually be welcomed back into Camelot, a question of whether Arthur would want her back. A question of how true this fantasy really is.

Merlin straightens. “No,” he says firmly, “let’s just hope the two of us can do it together.”

——————————————

Arthur never thought he’d see his sister again.

But the instant Morgana walks into his chambers, looking as if she’d never left, she barely has time to open her mouth to deliver a snappy remark before he’s rushing across the room and wrapping her in a hug so fierce it makes Merlin laugh.

Morgana laughs at him with some incredibly clever quip but he isn’t listening. He’s too busy hugging his sister. Who’s finally home, who’s finally here.

“…oh, alright, you big softy,” she mumbles, wrapping her arms around him too, “there. Are you happy now?”

“‘Gana.”

“Yes, that’s me. Is your head alright? Merlin, what did you do to him?”

“He’s happy to see his sister, Morgana.”

She sighs dramatically. “Oh, don’t both of you go all sappy on me.”

Arthur just pulls her closer, burying his nose in her neck. “‘Gana.”

There’s a pause. Then: “Oh, Arthur, I missed you too.”

It’s too much. He sticks out his arm and grabs Merlin’s tunic, yanking him closer. Merlin makes a noise of surprise as Arthur bundles them both into the hug. Morgana makes a slightly affronted gesture as she makes room for the two of them, pulling her hair out of the way as Arthur buries his nose between their shoulders.

“I certainly don’t remember him being this clingy, are you sure this is the same Arthur?”

“His head’s certainly big enough.”

“Well, yes, but that’s not exactly the most reliable thing to go on. He’s always been utterly obnoxious.”

“Don’t have to tell me.”

And they’re bickering like siblings and it’s right and it feels right and their magic is here now and he can feel both of them and it’s warm and it makes his chest tingle and—and—

“Oh, oh dear,” he hears Morgana murmur, “Arthur, are you—are you crying?”

“Shh, shh, it’s okay, Arthur, it’s okay.”

“Come, let’s sit down, if you fall over you’ll take the two of us with you.”

“Just try and breathe, it’s okay, we’re not going anywhere.”

Arthur can’t bear to let them go. Not even for an instant. Morgana stays with him, her arms wound tightly around his neck, her fingers scratching lightly through his hair. Merlin sits at his back, his chest warm.

“Come now, you silly man,” Morgana says, trying to keep the tears out of her own voice, “there’s no use crying over this. No man is worth your tears, remember?”

“You’re not a man,” he mumbles, “you’re my sis’er.”

“He’s got a point.”

Morgana sighs. “Oh, Arthur…”

He registers how long’s been crying only when he feels his head start to ring from how stuffy his nose feels. He hooks his chin over Morgana’s shoulder.

“Go on.”

“What?”

“Go on,” he mumbles, “tease me. I know you want to.”

“…I’m not going to tease you, Arthur.”

“Really? All this material and you won’t?”

“Not today,” she murmurs, sounding a little hoarse herself, “not—not today.”

She holds him tighter.

“Not when I’ve just learned I have two brothers.”

He can live with that.

She does tease him later, when he says that he hasn’t missed her at all—a blatant lie, that, and they all know it—or that he’s always been a model of a knight. Of course, she doesn’t have to train with him alone, anymore, she has her pick of the knights. And Merlin.

Because Morgana has magic.

Merlin has magic. Is magic, if the stories are to be believed. And Morgana has always been a quick study.

So sometimes, Arthur will just…watch them. But it’s always that. Just watching.

Merlin is the greatest sorcerer to ever walk the earth. Morgana is a High Priestess of the Old Religion.

What is Arthur?

“You’re pouting, Princess.”

Arthur barely flinches as Gwaine plops down beside him. He does raise an eyebrow as he feels the rest of the knights sit down around him.

“I’m not pouting, Gwaine.”

“Sure you are.” He flicks Arthur’s arm. “You’re pouting.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

Arthur sighs. “And what is it you think I’m pouting over?”

“The fact that you now have to share Merlin with Morgana.”

“That’s not—“

“You’re bright red, Princess, you know I’m right.”

“Enough.”

Lancelot lays a hand on Gwaine’s arm. Gwaine hushes. Percival glances around to make sure there aren’t any other knights near and nods.

“What’s troubling you,” Lancelot asks quietly, “and how can we help?”

“There’s nothing you can do.”

“I don’t believe that for a second.” Elyan sits up a little more. “There’s always something we can do.”

“Not with this,” Arthur mumbles, still watching the two magic users train, “not with this.”

Leon follows his gaze. “Impressive, aren’t they?”

“Mhm.”

“Do you wish you had magic too?”

Damn you, Leon. Damn you.

“…no.”

Leon chuckles softly. “Come now, sire, no need to lie to us.”

“I just—“ Arthur sighs, scrubbing his face with his hands. “It’s fine.”

Leon lays a hand on his shoulder.

“…they’re both…incredible—don’t tell them I said that,” Arthur says sharply.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Gwaine lies.

Arthur sighs again. “I just…I know I was born of magic, but…”

“You don’t have any,” Leon guesses, “not like they do.”

He shakes his head.

“Eh, you don’t need it,” Gwaine says, leaning up against Arthur’s side, “you’re plenty fine without it.”

Arthur’s head whips around to stare at him in shock. Gwaine raises an eyebrow.

“What? You are.”

“Since when do you give me compliments?”

Gwaine shrugs. “’S not about compliments, it’s about the truth. You’re able to do a shit load of things perfectly fine on your own, you don’t need to have magic for it.”

“He’s right, sire,” Lancelot adds, “your skills are a testament to you, not to whatever magic brought you into this world.”

“I’d follow you with or without magic.” Percival stands tall. “Just so happens you don’t have it. Doesn’t make a difference to me.”

“You’re our commander,” Elyan agrees, “that’s that.”

Leon’s hand on his shoulder rubs soft circles, brushing away his protests. He’s not sure if he believes them entirely, not just yet, but maybe…

Maybe one day he will. After all, he thinks with a smile, he’s got some people to help him with that.

He never thought he’d see his sister again.

——————————————

“Mum?”

Hunith turns around and smiles.

“Merlin, come here.”

Merlin rushes forward, wrapping his arms around her in a warm hug.

“Why didn’t you send word you were coming,” she scolds gently, “I would’ve gotten everything ready.”

“I wanted to surprise you!”

“Well, I am surprised. Sit, sit, tell me everything.”

Her son sits, idly toying with his hands. She frowns.

“What’s the matter?”

“I, um…I have a question for you.”

“What is it?”

“Where…where am I from?”

Oh.

Oh.

Hunith smiles and tells him the story. Tells him of how Balinor arrived one night, a little babe clutched in his arms. How he told her how the queen had two children, one that had to be kept safe away from Camelot. How his magic had reached out to her once she held him, wrapped around them as he fell asleep against her breast.

Merlin listens, tears in his eyes, as she tells him that she loved him from the moment she saw him, that he would always have a home here.

“You’re my mum,” he mumbles, wiping away tears, “and I—you’re always gonna be my mum.”

“Oh, Merlin, come here—“

She holds her son in her arms and thanks the magic of the world that gave him to her.

——————————————

Uther responds about as well as you’d expect.

As in, not at all.

At least, not until he realizes that there are three children who are about to make sure he does what he promised Ygraine he would, and if he doesn’t, they’ll do it for him.

He tries to deny having another son, one that was raised as a peasant, no less, only for Arthur to stand up in court and publicly acknowledge Merlin as his brother.

He tries to deny that Morgana is his daughter, only for Morgana to stand tall and proud by Arthur’s side as they declare their intent to rule as brother and sister.

He tries to deny that not one but two of his children have magic, only for Arthur to open talks with the druids by using his brother and sister with magic as ambassadors.

He tries.

He fails.

He wants to think that he still has his loyal knights, but Gwaine and Percival decide that they’re Merlin’s bodyguards, and Leon and Lancelot won’t leave Arthur’s side. Morgana doesn’t need her own bodyguards, but Elyan and Gwen are never far from her.

He wants to think he still has the support of the Council, but Gaius had stood and given a speech about being so happy to see Ygraine’s children home again and his words had been frozen before he could say anything.

He wants to think he’s still the king. But everyone is starting to look to Arthur, to Morgana, not to him.

Once, and only once, he considers getting rid of the boy.

When he wakes from a terrible nightmare of drowned children, burned houses, and Ygraine’s immortal disappointment, he doesn’t think of it again.

Uther isn’t dragged kicking and screaming from his throne, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t many who’d love to if he gave them the opportunity.

He’s not worth lingering on.

[rainbowvamp]

Gone and Back Again

Hello and welcome to chapter 5 of the manic creation that is my princess bride au. I’m slowly seeing my creative energy wind down, so the chapters for week three and four might be slightly more brief than this weeks and next week’s chapters are. It looks like there will be five for next week as well, but not all of them will fit the Albion Party prompts. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

~5100 words. (AO3 Link) 

Arthur and Morgana are our main dynamic today. (platonic) 

Warnings: suicidal ideation, depiction of depression, mentions of force feeding, memory loss, and non-consensual memory alterations. (All of this happens after the cut)  Further: Lots and lots of talk of marriage. And I don't know how marriage works in the long ago times, so if it doesn't make much sense, please excuse me. Merlin is a little sus this chapter, but it gets explained in chapter 7. Oh, in this AU Arthur and Morgana are not related in any way. Just in case you were worried about that.

---

Becoming the King’s Ward is even more suffocating that being the daughter of a Lord. She is always expected to be dressed in finery, she is almost never alone, and far too many men look at her. Arthur does his best to keep them away, but it becomes clear in late Autumn that Uther doesn’t intend for her to be Arthur’s wife. He invites a neighboring king and his very lovely daughter to the Samhain festival. 

Morgana is still seated in a place of honor, but her usual place beside Arthur is occupied by the Princess Vivian. The girl is so insufferable that it hurts to even think her name, and so Morgana does not spend much time speaking to her. 

Morgana’s lack of socializing is excused time and again by someone or other who says that she’d just lost bother her parents, last week, less than a month ago, only a month ago, only a few months ago… She doesn’t have to pretend to be happy, at least, but she knows the excuse will not last. 

Days pass and at Yule, a different princess is at the castle. This one stays for weeks because of the bad weather, and Morgana becomes a ghost in the palace. 

Uther calls her to his chambers one night, a nobleman she doesn’t recognize is also there, likely for the sake over own reputation. 

“Morgana, please sit.” Uther gestures to the place across from his desk, and she takes the seat gracefully, keeping her face cool and collected. “The Princess Elena has expressed concern for your wellbeing. She says you seem, despondent. I understand your parents death was very distressing, and no one expects your mourning to be finished, but I will ask this of you only once. You are to make sure the Princess Elena feels welcome here. She is very likely to become Arthur’s betrothed, and if you are to continue to stay here, you should become friendly with her. Do I make myself clear?” 

He thinks I want his son. She nods and smiles sheepishly. An act she had learned pleased him early on. “I understand, Your Majesty. I will make every effort to show her kindness and make her feel welcome, just as you welcomed me.” 

“Good girl.” He turned back to his papers and she stood, dismissed. 

Arthur is waiting outside the door for her.

“What did he say to you?” He fell into step beside he and she smiled wanly.

“He intends to marry you to Elena, and I should not be so cold to her if I would like to stay here.” 

“I would never let him turn you out. You know that.”

She and Arthur had built a tentative sort of alliance since she’d come to live in the palace. In keeping with that alliance, he took her hand in the guise of reassuring her, while slipping two gold coins into it. She placed them in the pocket of her dress. Beside the ring she had stopped wearing upon the king’s demand. 

“I don’t think you’ll have much of a choice.”

“I’d go with you.” He promises, and she laughs. 

“No you wouldn’t. Your loyalty is too bound to Camelot and it’s people.”

“You are a person of Camelot, aren’t you?” 

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” 

They walk in silence until they reach Morgana’s chambers. At her door they stop and finish the conversation. “Princess Elena has no interest in marrying me. She wants to rule alone.” 

Morgana smiled, “Good for her.”

“Yes. You should still be nicer to her.” 

“I am nice!” She said with a scoff. When Arthur raised an eyebrow at her she conceded, rolling her eyes. “I’m not any less nice to her than I am to you.”

“Yes, but I know you’re nice inside. Elena just thinks you hate her.” 

“I will smile at her at dinner tonight, will that make you happy?” 

“Immensely.” Arthur bows and kisses her hand before he goes, and Morgana make a very unladylike face of disgust at him. He does this to exasperate her and amuse himself, and she plays into it every time. 

—

The castle servants are not as kind as the ones from her home, or as loyal. Not to her, at least. Her stash of coins is discovered and taken, and the King is cold to her for many days. Each stash of coins she manages to acquire receives a fate much the same, until Arthur starts hiding the coins for her. His servant doesn’t take coins, but he does manage to “put away” every bit of traveling supplies Arthur manages to help her acquire. 

Eventually, she gives up. Spring comes and goes, then another Winter. She mourns the loss of her freedom almost as much as she mourned Lancelot. Eventually the hopelessness gets the better of her, and she takes ill. Arthur visits her everyday, and at first she can muster the occasional conversation, but as time passes she finds she has the will to speak to him less and less, and eventually, she goes quiet. He is good, and kind. The last thing she intends to do is bless him and wish him well when she thinks that she will die. 

She doesn’t die. 

Uther calls physicians from every corner of the Kingdom to come and tend her, and promises the position of court physician to anyone who manages to cure her. She’s poked and prodded, and Arthur is by her side as often as he can be. She doesn’t trust these strange men and so she’s always grateful for his presence, even if she doesn’t say so. She wishes they would just leave her to die, but her body is too heavy to move, and her mind too clouded to protest. 

Her dry lips barely part to take a little water. She can’t eat, and her sleep is fitful. 

She goes through nearly a dozen physicians before one, Merlin Emerys, finally cures her. 

“Take this.” Is all he says to her, not even bothering to do a physical exam.

She is laying on her side, curled in on herself, much the same position she’s been in all afternoon. She doesn’t reach fo the medicine when he offers it, and only his assistant, Gwen, can coax her into motion.

“He looks very young, doesn’t he?” Gwen asks as she smooths hair back from Morgana’s face. “He is, but he is very knowledgeable. Studied with all the best physicians in the five kingdoms. Here, let’s sit you up.” Gwen takes her under the shoulders and props her up. Arthur moves forward and adjust her pillows so she can lean against them, taking Morgana’s hand to help her shuffle back against them in the bed.

Her whole body hurts, aches with the motion. She feels hopeless, like nothing will ever be right again, and the only reason she doesn’t protest is because there is no point. She’ll just be force fed whatever concoction he has for her if she does. That was what happened with the first physician who had come to see her. 

She can’t focus on anything that’s happening, she just takes what she’s given, letting Gwen give her medicine. She drinks and the bitterness she is expecting never comes. Whatever this tincture is, it’s sweet, and there is just enough of it for a few sips. She swallows it down and then Gwen lets her go, lets her rest against the pillows and returns to Merlin’s side. 

Arthur and Merlin bend their heads together and whisper to each other. Arthur’s shoulders are tense, hunching inward, while Merlin speaks low and easy. Gwen stays beside him all the while, but says nothing. There is no ring on her finger, so she is not his wife. Morgana wonders idly if they are involved.

It’s the most interest she’s had in anything in months. 

Arthur sees Merlin out of the room, and a servant comes in to bring Morgana something to eat. She finds that she is starving, and she eats everything given to her. It was a small amount of a wide array of food, the castle staff having been told to prepare anything and everything they thought might make her eat. She eats all of it, and Arthur watches her with wide eyes. 

“What?” She asked when she finally stopped eating long enough to see her friend. The servant who had brought her dinner was out of earshot, straightening the room, but Arthur looked at her and held his tongue. Morgana watched his eyes, and then nodded, understanding. He sat beside her bed and took her hand in his. 

When the maid moved further away to get Morgana’s bath water, Arthur leaned close to her and whispered, “The potion is already working. I’m afraid it is not just medicine he peddles.” 

Morgana raised her eyebrows at the accusation, but Arthur shook his head, looking to the maid again. “I’m glad you’re eating well. I hated watching you be force fed.”

“You could have stopped it.” She reminded him, in fact, she had begged him to stop it, weak and breathy from too little time spent speaking in too many days. 

“You would have died. I hated it, but I would not see you dead.” 

“The kingdom will talk. The Crown Prince favoring an orphaned girl.”

“And orphaned Lady. It’s hardly out of character.” 

“It is out of line with your father’s plans for you. Which princess does he like for you think season?”

Arthur laughed. “Princess Mithian.” 

Morgana had never met princess Mithian. She found she wanted to, if only to compare her to all the other princesses that she had seen paraded in front of Arthur.

It was one of the first things she’d wanted to do in a long while.

“Get out.” She said, her voice stronger than it had been in weeks. “I need to dress.” 

“It’s late afternoon.” 

“And dinner is soon. I need to dress. Get out.” 

Arthur laughed, and squeezed her hand as he stood, gesturing the maid over to help Morgana out of bed for the first time of her own accord in days. 

—

The Lady Morgana goes down to eat dinner with the Prince and the King for the first time in a month that evening. Uther immediately calls for a servant to bring him Merlin, who he assigns the position of court physician. For the first time in weeks, Morgana smiles brightly, and whatever the man has done, Uther is glad for it. 

Morgana eats heartily, almost unbecomingly heartily, but neither Uther nor Arthur begrudge her the meal. She is boney, and her dress is loose from the weight she’d lost in her sickness. She is to eat to her heart’s content. 

The food Morgana eats tastes divine. For weeks everything in her mouth felt like ash and nothingness. Now the warm sting of wine and hot vegetables feels like home, like life, and she is eager to take it all in. 

Uther asks her questions, and she is eager to speak, happily chatting about her intentions to take a morning ride, her desire to return to her studies, and even her desire to start looking for a husband. 

This catches Arthur by surprise. 

Morgana has not spoken of a husband of her own accord except to speak of her dead love, Lancelot. Something about this is strange. 

When dinner is over, Arthur excuses himself and goes to find the Court Physician, Merlin. 

“What did you do to her?” Arthur finds Merlin in the court physicians chambers with his assistant, Gwen. Merlin is wide eyed and watchful when Arthur enters his room.

“I gave her a medicine to heal her mind. She is better now, yes? Eating, active, back to her usual self?” 

“Yes.” Arthur doesn’t dare make an accusation without more proof, but the wary way that Merlin’s assistant watches him makes Arthur think that he is on the right track. “I haven’t seen her this happy since before her parent’s deaths.” 

“Grief can sometimes be so deep that it dulls everything else. What’s the point of food when you’re in so much pain you can’t fathom going on?” 

Merlin sounds so wise, so knowledgeable, when he speaks, but Arthur is suspicious. 

“If you say so. Well, whatever you’ve done. Thank you.” 

“I live to serve.” The physician waits for Arthur to leave, but he doesn’t go without sizing Merlin up first.

He would be able to take him in a fight, if needs must. 

—

Time goes by and Morgana is happier than Arthur has ever seen her and while he is glad for it, his suspicions never waver. 

They are never left alone anymore, upon his father’s insistence. With Morgana’s willingness to speak of marriage, he thinks maybe he’s trying to discourage anything untoward between them. This makes it hard to ask Morgana the question he so desperately needs an answer to. He sees hints of it, but he doesn’t find hard proof of anything. She doesn’t stare off in the distance like she once did. She smiles like she has no worries. She never slips her hand into her pocket to touch Lancelot’s ring. 

Merlin is a good court physician. He can heal almost any ailment, or at the very least help the patient be comfortable. Gwen is also very competent, though she is quiet. She doesn’t talk much to the other servants, as he’s heard from George. Or, as he’s made George tell him in his own quest to wheedle out whatever information he can about Merlin. 

Merlin is a hard nut to crack. The man’s face never falls, always tranquil, always sure of himself. Even in the most dire circumstances, he is easy-eyed and softly smiling, like he expects everything will just go his way eventually. 

Uther eats it right up. 

Arthur doesn’t dare make his suspicions known until he has proof, and even then he thinks he’ll have a hard time having a man killed who’s done so much good, but a year on and he still doesn’t know what’s wrong with Morgana. Between his new and increasing duties as a knight and the crown prince, and Morgana’s now constant activity, he barely has time to speak to her, let alone discern what the problem might be. 

He has nearly a whole sack of gold coins discreetly saved before he mentions to Morgana that if she wishes to leave, soon she might be able to.

When Morgana smiles serenely at him and says she has no wish to leave, Arthur knows that something is wrong. And he can’t do anything about it. 

—-

Morgana’s parents have been dead for two years, a plenty adequate mourning time, when Uther starts suggesting matches. First a Lord’s son that Arthur knew to be a cad. Next a young Lord who was fine but very bland. After that, a prince from a neighboring Kingdom who had caught word of Morgana’s beauty and shown interest.

All of these men Morgana entertained, smiled at, was polite to, far more polite than she had ever been to Arthur before her mind sickness. She made them smile and completely enthralled them, only to turn down each proposal made, all smiles and apologies. 

That, at least, gave Arthur some comfort. 

But after a year of failed courtings, three years in the palace, people were starting to talk. Morgana is 21 and people start to call her unlovable. They don’t say such things about Arthur, and he is nearly 23. It seems unfair to him, that people are so cruel. 

“If this keeps up, you might have to marry her, Arthur,” Uther said in passing once, rubbing his temple while he read an angry letter sent by yet another lord turned down by the Lady Morgana. “Gorlois used to speak of her unwillingness, but I never expected she’d be so brazen about it here.” 

Arthur doesn’t think before he speaks, going over the grain reports from the latest council meeting in more detail. “Is that an option?” 

The soft sound of Uther setting down the letter he’d been reading draws Arthur’s attention up from his own. 

“Is that something you would consider?” Uther had made no secret of his distaste for Arthur’s own reluctance to marry. Uther, of course, hadn’t been married until he was almost 26, but he often forgot that. 

“Maybe. If she was amenable.” Arthur shrugs. It would save them both a lot of trouble, at least. They were good friends, Arthur would never press for a physical relationship, and their marriage would be in name only. For Morgana’s sake, it would probably be the least painful option. Arthur wouldn’t mind not having his father trying to force him to fall in love with new women every season either. 

Of course, there was still the question of status. 

Uther doesn’t respond, but Arthur can feel the king’s eyes on him long after he’s gone back to reading over the grain report. 

—

A month later, while they are having dinner, Uther asks Morgana if she has any interest in courting Arthur. Considering this is right in front of Arthur, he’s quiet embarrassed, but Morgana only smiles, laughs, and says, “Arthur is one of my dearest friends.” 

“Dear friends make the best husbands.” He raises his brow at her, watching her every reaction. She looks over the table at Arthur, who smiles, shrugs. They don’t get much time to talk now, but maybe if they were courting, he would finally have time to get to the bottom of Morgana’s drastic change in demeanor. 

“Well, I suppose there’s no harm in courting. It can always be broken if we don’t agree with each other?” She looks at Arthur when she asks this question, and Arthur nods, solemn. 

Uther grins and claps his hands together. “Excellent.” He just seems happy to have two problems off his hands all at once. 

And Morgana’s unwillingness to marry had been a problem. Rumors started to fly that she’d been holding out for the prince since their first meeting, wrapping him around her finger for three long years until he had no choice but to beg Uther to court her. Morgana never mentions these rumors, and so neither does Arthur. 

Morgana’s early morning ride is now accompanied occasionally by Arthur, and George. They sometimes take their breakfast alone, save for a chaperone, usually the Lord Agravaine, who had also been seeing over Morgana’s lands. 

It’s on one of their shared rides that Arthur manages to tell her that he won’t expect anything “wifely” out of her if they do end up married. Morgana just smiles and nods, shrugs like this doesn’t particularly bother her. 

This is too far. And so he tests her. 

“Where do you keep his ring, now?” 

She blinks and looks at him. “What?” 

“His Ring. Lancelot’s ring. Where do you keep it?” 

She looks at him blankly, blinks a few times, and then shrugs. “I forget.” 

I forget. A woman so distraught at the loss of her love that she’d been willing to leave behind everything she knew with no money and only the dress on her back, but she’d forgotten the last thing that she’d received from him? This was why she felt better after the potion was drunk, he was sure of it now. She’d been made to forget the things that caused her pain.

But still she’d refused to marry. The love ran deep for her. Arthur wouldn’t pretend to understand it, but he respected it none the less. 

“It was that damn physician who did this to you.” Arthur muttered, but Morgana was unaffected, distracted by the buzzing of a few nearby bees, smiling. 

He wonders if this was what Morgana was like with him, this Lancelot fellow she’s so lost without. He hopes she was. That he brought her joy with whatever time they had together. 

Arthur has a physician to see, so he ends their ride early, despite Morgana’s protests. 

George is glad to be heading back, at least. 

—

As soon as they return, Arthur storms the court physicians quarters and confronts Merlin about what he’s done to Morgana. Merlin holds firm that he’s done nothing magical, and has only given a sick girl medicine to make her better.

“How is it better to forget your love?” 

“She was dying for him, Arthur. Doesn’t your friend deserve a chance to live her life, free of pain?”

“Life is full of pain. You can’t simply get rid of it. What sort of heartless bastard are you?” 

Merlin’s eyes flash with anger and maybe something else, but before Arthur can get a good look at it, Gwen, his assistant, takes Merlin by the elbow and reminds him they have a pressing appointment with an expectant mother in the lower town. 

Arthur lets them go, but he doesn’t forget that interaction. 

—

For a year he courts Morgana, and finally, at Yule, he makes a public proposal. She accepts, as she had agreed she would weeks before, and the Yule celebration becomes a celebration of their engagement. Their wedding is set for Samhain of the next year. The wedding of the crown Prince and the King’s only son is going to be a giant affair, the whole of Camelot will rejoice in it. 

At least, that’s what everyone keeps telling him. Morgana seems content enough to marry him, though he can’t help feeling distraught where this marriage is concerned. Morgana isn’t in her right mind without her memories of Lancelot completely intact, or blocked off, or dimmed, or whatever it is that damn sorcerer has done to her. 

So, finally, Arthur goes to Merlin and demands he lift the spell on Morgana.

“My Lord, I haven’t cast a spell on her. I gave her medicine. Medicine that saved her life, might I remind you. Even if I could simply reverse it’s effects, which I can’t, she would only be right back where she was when I gave it to her, wasting away with mind sickness.” Merlin’s face, when he says this, shows no remorse, not a hint of anything resembling pity. He just looks… blank. 

Arthur hadn’t wanted to hear this. He grit his teeth and closed his eyes, trying to collect himself. “What exactly did your medicine do?” 

“It blocked some of her ability to feel emotional pain. She still has all her memories, if that’s what you’re worried about. She simply doesn’t hurt when she thinks of them.” 

“You say that like it’s not a terrible thing.” 

“I’m a physician. My whole life is dedicated to easing people’s sufferings.” 

Arthur is very glad Gwen isn’t here. He’d feel terrible starting a fight in front of a woman. 

Arthur clocks Merlin in the mouth for the blasé way that he talks about taking Morgana’s feelings from her. “I want you out of this castle. We’ll find a new court physician. Whatever your remedies are, I don’t want them for my people.” 

Merlin glared but didn’t say anything back. Arthur stormed out of the room and only once he was down the hall did the commotion start in the physicians quarters. 

Arthur felt satisfied, then, that at least he’d gotten a rise out of the man. 

—

Uther gives him grief about firing the court physician, but when Arthur stands his ground and says he doesn’t like the way the man behaves, Uther simply nods and agrees to send the man, and his assistant packing. 

He hadn’t held out much hope for the possibility that Morgana would return to her old self when the man was gone, but when three days passed and Morgana still seemed unbothered, mood entirely unchanged, Arthur’s last little bit of hope died.

He promised himself that he would do right by her, then, and committed himself to honoring the memory of her love. He’d make sure to remind her regularly, even use the ring Lancelot had given her as her wedding ring, if she wasn’t opposed to the idea. 

—

Their engagement goes well, and Morgana throws herself into the wedding preparations. She seems to be enjoying herself, and Arthur is glad of that, at least. They eventually find a new court physician, a wisened old man named Gaius. Arthur takes his suspicions about Morgana to the man, but he claims he can do nothing for it. Even so, something about the look on his face makes Arthur suspicious. 

He sits down to breakfast with Morgana in his chambers, and while his manservant is attending to business on the other side of the room, he takes her hand in his to get her attention.

Morgana looks away from her breakfast and smiles easily at him. He would be a liar if he said he wasn’t glad Morgana smiled more now than she had years ago, but something about it always felt wrong. Knowing she was being forced to suppress the memories of her dead love made that feeling of wrongness infinitely greater.

“I’ve said this before,” He started, and she raised an eyebrow, curious, but without any bite. He used to quite like that she was always subtly making fun of him. “But I feel the need to say it again, with the wedding just a few weeks away. Morgana, I will not expect anything of you in this marriage. I do care for you, but I don’t love you anymore than you love me. You will be an excellent queen, and I’m grateful to have you by my side, but this is a marriage of friends, and equals.” Despite our differences in stations goes unsaid, but not unheard.

Morgana’s smile becomes softer. “I know you don’t. I wouldn’t be marrying you if you did. I-“ She stopped, trailed off, really, blinking like she was blinking away some thought she couldn’t be bothered to remember. “The preparations are going splendidly, anyway. It will be a beautiful ceremony. Unfortunately large, but it can’t be helped. We can’t refuse anyone an invitation.” 

The way her mind changes track from the aftermath of the marriage to the wedding itself worries him, and he thinks that he should’ve pushed harder for a cure of some kind. But he dared not do anything that might alert Uther that he suspected an enchantment was placed on Morgana. Uther’s intolerance for magic had extended to those under its influence before, and he wouldn’t risk Morgana’s life like that.

“No, I suppose not. Any friends you’re looking forward to seeing?” 

Morgana laughed, “Other noble ladies have never liked me much, I ruffle their feathers.” She pulled her hand away from his and went back to her breakfast, but Arthur was not quite done.

“I want you to use Lancelot’s ring, as a tribute to him.” He watches her carefully when her body stills, eyes distant as she looked down at the fruit she’d just speared with her fork. Again, she blinks away a thought and smiles. 

“I don’t know where it is.” She smiles, but it’s tight. “I haven’t even thought of it in years.” 

“Would you like me to help you look for it? It might be nice to have.” Even if she says no, he thinks he’ll try to convince her to find it. Maybe whatever connection it gives her will help bring her back from whatever spell Merlin put on her.

“Maybe,” She says it like she can’t be bothered either way. He swallows and nods.

“Let’s look for it. You used to love it so much. I’d like you to wear it again, once we’re married.” 

“The wedding is in just a few weeks, and I haven’t seen that ring in years. Do you really think we’ll find it in time?” One of her eyebrows raises, a question, and maybe a challenge.

“How hard can it be? It’s probably in with the rest of your jewelry.”

Morgana laughed wholeheartedly now, still delicate enough for a lady, but very obviously laughing at him.

“What?” He asked, and she just shook her head.

“I don’t think you realize how much jewelry you’ve given me over that last two years. Your courting gifts are very unoriginal.” 

—

Sure enough, her vanity and another separate chest are both full of Jewelry. She goes through her vanity while Arthur checks the chest, but neither of them find it. Morgana gives him a knowing sort of “didn’t I tell you” look, but Arthur is determined. Morgana is his friend and that ring is important to her, whether she remembers it or not. He will not see it lost forever to time and a terrible curse. 

“Alright, fine. So it’s not with your jewelry. Check the pockets of your dresses, then. I’ll look under the bed.” 

Morgana laughed at him again. “You really think I’d find it in a pocket after all these years? Surely a laundrywoman would have taken it out and put it with my things.” 

He leveled her with a gaze that brokered no arguments. “Humor me.” 

She rolled her eyes at him, and at least this teasing felt a bit like the Morgana he’d known for a short while before she’d been influenced. 

Arthur got to his hands and knees, then down to his stomach, to look beneath every piece of furniture in the room. The bed, the night stands, the wardrobe. He even looked behind her changing screen and under the empty tub, but there was no ring in sight. 

The rustling of fabric at the wardrobe stops and Arthur looks around the privacy screen to see Morgana, standing frozen at the door, head bent, eyes locked on something Arthur can’t see.

He gets up and approaches her quietly, trying not to startle her. 

“Morgana?” He asks when he’s still a few feet away, trying to see around the wardrobe doors to what she’s holding, but his vantage point is no good. He moves to stand behind her, looking over her shoulder. 

In her pale, shaking hand, lies a dull, tarnished ring. The band is far too wide to be fitting of a noble lady, let alone a queen, and the stone doesn’t glitter so much as gently diffuse light. He’s seen it only a few times before, after his father banned her from wearing it, but he thinks this must be it.

“I found it.” When she whispers it, her voice is choking. He gently turns her toward him and there are tears in her eyes. When she looks up at him, he sees every ounce of pain he remembers from their first meeting, and maybe more, laced with years of regret. “I can’t marry you.” 

Arthur nods, feeling tears prick his own eyes as he pulls her into a hug. “We’ll figure something out.” He promises, and she sobs into his shoulder, soaking his shirt through. He pats her on the back and swears that he won’t force her to be married to him. Not on his life. 

He explains his suspicions of Merlin to her, and when she goes to bed that night, she’s distraught. The next morning she goes for her daily ride without him, presumably to think, and she never returns. 

[fantasy2739]

@wondermia69 you asked for a lil angst with some father son and I hope I’ve achieved.

I hope you like it!

Douxie was not going to cry. He wasn’t. He’d only been staying with Merlin for a month and he’d already broken, spilt, messed up and even blown up almost every item in the workshop. He didn’t mean to. He just wanted to use magic and Merlin kept telling him it wasn’t a shortcut. He wondered if it would ever get through his head. Today he’d managed to trip and knock over a stack of documents that he was pretty sure had just been sorted yesterday. Merlin had sighed and told him to tidy it up with everything in the correct order. Douxie was almost certain that he’d heard Merlin mutter that his new apprentice may be more trouble than he was worth. Which hurt. Especially given the timing... Douxie wasn’t going to think about that. He was definitely not going to cry over his mentor thinking he wasn’t worth it.

It took him four hours to sort out the documents. He’d had to read them all to work out what order they should go in. He was behind on his other chores. Merlin had been studying some schematics for his ‘special weapon’, not that Douxie was allowed to look at or even touch that part of the workshop. Finished with the documents, Douxie straightened and grabbed his broom. He started sweeping, keeping far away from the freshly stacked documents. Knowing his luck he’d knock them over again. Merlin disappeared at some point, probably to talk to King Arthur. Douxie figured he could use a little magic now that his mentor was gone. Enchanting the books to pick themselves up would be fine. He’d been practicing. He’d seen Merlin do it a thousand times and it seemed pretty easy. It started out fine, books stacked themselves neatly, papers ended up on shelves. Then Merlin came back in, only for four books to shoot directly at him. The old wizard was skilled enough to avoid getting smacked in the face.

“Hisirdoux! How many times have I told you not to use magic when doing your chores?” Merlin snapped, waving his hand to send the offending books to their shelves.

“Sorry Master.” Douxie said. “I was just so behind on my chores I thought I’d speed it up a little.” Merlin sighed, looking very much like he wanted to bury his face in his hands. Another book went flying into a workshop bench, scattering documents and raw materials. Douxie winced as he saw the disarray. “I can fix that.” Merlin shook his head.

“No, you’ve caused enough damage for one day.” He said, causing Douxie’s shoulders to slump. “Go to your room and try not to make any more messes along the way.” Douxie nodded, averting his eyes as he walked past Merlin wishing for all the world he wasn’t so accident prone.

Merlin watched the boy leave, before repairing the damage done to his workshop. There hadn’t been the usual argument, no ‘but master’, or begging to be allowed to stay up to try some new spells. Merlin tried not to dwell on that. Hisirdoux had been clumsier recently, which instead of asking about, Merlin just snapped and griped about. He should go check on the boy, he’d taken him in after all. Merlin rarely ventured to Douxie’s room, figuring he should have somewhere to call his own. He could hear talking coming from inside and couldn’t help but listen.

“Come on Douxie, it’s not that bad.” Archie was saying.

“You didn’t hear him Arch. He said I wasn’t worth the trouble.” Hisirdoux replied. Merlin winced slightly, recalling he had said that earlier. He didn’t think Hisirdoux had heard him but the boy was always aware of his surroundings despite managing to damage everything in a five mile radius.

“It’s not like he told you to leave.” Archie pointed out. “I doubt Merlin is the type to beat around the bush about these things.”

“I know I’m not the greatest student.” Hisirdoux mumbled. “But I’m trying. I want to be good at magic. Get a staff, just like Merlin.”

“You are good at magic Douxie.” Archie assured him. “You just need a practice.” Merlin was glad Douxie had his familiar. The little furball might grate on his nerves sometimes but he kept Hisirdoux happy.

“I’ve been practicing.” Hisirdoux said. “I think I’m one practice session from Merlin booting me out.”

“He’s not your parents Douxie.” Archie said softly and Merlin backed away from the door. He didn’t know much about Hisirdoux’s past before he became his apprentice. He’d seen a street boy who’d managed to scam a fair amount of Camelot. He’d thought the boys parents were dead, which would have been a blessing if he heard Archie right. Merlin made his way back to his own chambers. Maybe he could be a little nicer, just to assure Hisirdoux he wasn’t going to be chucked out despite his many many accidents.

Douxie walked into the workshop for yet another day of sweeping, promising to himself he wouldn’t use magic. He knew he would later but hopefully not in front of Merlin. He started to wipe down the surfaces.

“You can put that down Hisirdoux.” Merlin said, staff in hand. Douxie tried not to let the panic show on his face. He braced himself for Merlin to berate him. “Today we’re going to train.” Douxie stared at Merlin.

“Are you going to teach me some new spells?” He asked, feeling cheered.

“Of course. You are after all a wizards apprentice, are you not?” Merlin said with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes Master.” Douxie said, happily following the man to an empty room they used to practice. Merlin started explaining the infinite hallway spell. The first few attempts didn’t go well. Douxie half expected a sigh and to be told to practice alone for a while. But there wasn’t. Instead Merlin stroked his chin and considered.

“The key to this spell is imagining the hallways are connected. It can be tricky to get your head around.” He said, gently adjusting Douxie’s stance. “Give it another go.” Douxie tried again and again, finally conjuring a small portal. “Good, now make another one, that’s it.” Douxie had two small portals. A person wouldn’t fit through but it was a start. Douxie smiled up at Merlin, who gave him a fond expression. He gave Douxie a pat on the shoulder. “That’s enough for today. I think I hear a hot meal beckoning.” Douxie smiled, releasing the portals. “You did well today Hisirdoux.” Douxie’s blinked before ducking his head shyly. He wasn’t used to praise.

“Thank you Master.” He said. A hand was on the small of his back gently guiding him out the door. One more pat and Merlin was moving off to the kitchen. Douxie hurried after him, feeling much better than the night before.

[lover-of-midnight]

Is there a way out - chapter 34

Rating:

Explicit

Archive Warnings

Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Rape/Non-Con

Major Character Death

Categories:

F/M

M/M

Fandom:

Merlin (TV)

Relationships:

Arthur/Original Male Character

Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)

Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)

Leon & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)

Leon & Morgana (Merlin)

Leon/Morgana (Merlin)

Side Morgana/Leon

Characters:

Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)

Merlin (Merlin)

Leon (Merlin)

Morgana (Merlin)

Gaius (Merlin)

Balinor

Additional Tags:

Alternate Universe - Dark

Dark fic

Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

Rape/Non-con Elements

Rape Recovery

domestic abuse

Suicide Attempt

Depression

Arranged Marriage

soul mates

Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics

Non-Consensual Touching

Omega Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)

Alpha Merlin (Merlin)

Alpha Uther

Beta Morgana

Beta Leon

Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics

forced bondage

Prince Merlin (Merlin)

Queen Hunith

King Balinor

Suicide

Kidnapped

toture

Smut in chapter 34

Wedding

Language: English

Arthur paced slightly as servants bought in the bathing water, Merlin would return soon and Arthur truly hoped that it would go better today.

He wants to be with Merlin fully if he would have him, that means he needs to get used to the touched without wanting to faint.

He had already eaten a small bowl of gruel and at least it didn’t felt like he was going to puke it up. He scratched slightly at his arms.  He was still nervous, he never had seen Merlin without clothing on or just in small clothes.

Arthur almost jumped when the door closed behind him, showing that the last servant was out. He took a deep breath, he was safe here. Merlin won’t hurt him, he had shown it time and again.

When Merlin arrived was the water at the right temperature, it would stay warm with the fire going next to it.

Merlin easily walked over to Arthur, just looking him deep in the eyes. “How would you like to do this darling?” Merlin pressed a kiss onto Arthur’s head. It was a busy day for both, with the wedding around the corner.

“Can we try with just our small clothes on please?” Arthur was red in the face again.

“Of course.” Merlin gave him a small smile, he would do anything to help Arthur. He gently squeezes Arthur’s shoulder.

“Remember if you want to stop, just say it.” Merlin gave Arthur a stern look when they had talked the previous night Arthur had to admit that he would have forced himself past his comfort zone.

With a nod from Arthur, both turned around taking off their clothes. Merlin was the first one to get into the bath, just waiting for Arthur.

Merlin could see a slight trembling in Arthur’s hands, but there was a look of determination coming from him, that kept Merlin quiet.

Arthur forced himself to breath, he is safe. The water was warm against his skin and the extra heat coming from Merlin made him blush. This was nicer than he would have expected. Merlin touched was soft and kept to his arms for the moment.

After a few minutes, Merlin gently pulled Arthur closer to him. He allowed Arthur the time to get used to the contact when he felt him relax against him, he placed a kiss on Arthur’s head.

Arthur felt save and loved. Merlin kept to places that wouldn’t trigger Arthur, even though at one point or another the boundaries would have to be pushed again.

Merlin kept his hand on Arthur’s back, as Arthur was curled into his shoulder. “May I kiss you?” Merlin’s voice was soft.

For a moment it was silent before Arthur nodded. “Yes.” He remembered that Merlin wanted him to be verbal on answers. There were no hesitations in his voice.

His eyes were bright and for a moment Merlin couldn’t help but think that he had found an angel as an omega.

Merlin moved forward slightly, his face centimetres away from Arthur’s. Giving him the change to move away if he would want it.

Arthur closed the space between them. Merlin’s lips were slightly chapped but warm and soft against his.

There was no used of tongue, or teeth clacking together. The kiss was chasted but long and filled with a longing Arthur wished he had the answer too.

The days passed in such a whirlwind that Arthur didn’t have the time to worry about the upcoming marriage.

In the evenings they would bath together slowly processing from just small clothes to completely nude. The kisses between them would get more, and for the most part, Arthur could ignore the fact that his father is coming.

The day of the wedding was a big affair, even if it was just the kingdom celebration. Arthur had quickly learned that Merlin was loved by the whole kingdom. That almost ever one that was close to the castle knows Merlin personally.

He could admit to himself that he was slightly scared, he was scared of what would come, but for the moment he just wants to enjoy the time they would have together.

Arthur was deep in thought as the seamstress made a small adjustment to the clothes he would wear in the afternoon.

Merlin stood in his room, just as deep in thought, something was screaming at him. Soon something was going to happen, and it involved Arthur. He took a breath, with a conscious thought he made his way to the knights quarters.

When he stood in front of Gwain, he knew he would make the right choice.

“Gwain, I have a bad feeling that something is going to happen soon. I want you and Borne guarding Arthur in shifts please.” Something was pleading in Merlin’s voice, that made Gwain bow. No teasing or jokes.

He could feel how worried Merlin was.

“Of course Sire. I will go and talk to Borne now. One of us will be with Arthur full time.” Gwaine gave Merlin a worried look before he hurried off.

Merlin pressed the bridge of his nose, he hoped that the feeling would go away soon. It was his wedding day after all. He wants to make sure Arthur has the day he deserves.

Merlin was silent as he made his way back to his chambers to get dressed. There was finally some sense of calm in his heart.

When the wedding started Merlin couldn’t keep his eyes off Arthur, the shimmering rose pink he was dressed in, complemented his eyes.

The druid was an old man, giving ceremonies at many weddings, he knew what ritual they wanted. He chanted quietly as he tied the twine around there hands. For a moment it was just the two of them.

With a loud voice, the man asked Arthur:

“Do you promise to submit to your alpha? Do you promise to love and cherish the bond between you two? “

Arthur’s voice was slightly shaky as he said yes.

The man then turned to Merlin. Arthur didn’t know that Merlin had added something to the promise.

“Do you promise to protect, cherish and love your omega with your whole soul? Do you promise to try and make sure that no harm would ever befall him?”

Merlin’s voice was firm as he answered. “Yes.”

“Now take a sip of this wine.” The druid handed the chalet to Arthur.

The wine was warm and overly sweet on Arthur’s tongue, he managed to drink it without making a face before he handed it to Merlin.

Merlin didn’t even taste the wine, his eyes were trained on Arthur.

“Omega Arthur, you may now bite your mate.”

Arthur leaned forward as the druid chanted. He bitted down as hard as he could over Merlin’s scent gland, for a moment Arthur was sure that he would die, as the blood flowed his mouth, almost making him spit it out.

Merlin’s hand was warm against his back, and it grounded Arthur slightly as he gave a soft whimper.

“Alpha Merlin, you may bite your mate.” The druids' voice went louder.

Merlin’s teeth grazed Arthur’s scent gland he could feel him tensing up slightly. With a soft huss, Arthur relaxed again.

The bite made Arthur groan, his hand tightened around Merlin’s shirt.

“Merls.” There was a slight panic in Arthur’s voice as he suddenly felt dizzy, he could feel a cramp and then slick starting.

Merlin easily picked Arthur up. “Shh.” Merlin’s voice was low. The twinge disappeared into their skin.

Arthur forced himself to breath, to work through the panic. A natural heat happens every three to four months. It was normally painful and lonely. Now he was just scared of the pain.

He could smell Merlin’s pheromones around him, and it felt like he was drinking from a river after not having water for a few days.

His hands tightened against Merlin’s shoulder. He could hear people screaming with joy in the background.

When he came to his scenes again, where they in Merlin’s chambers. Well, he guesses it was their chambers now.

The clothes he had on felt too tight and hot, the desperation to be against Merlin frightened him. Another huss and he could feel Merlin’s hand running through his hair.

“Merlin…” Arthur trailed off. His face was hot and he could feel the slick spreading between his legs, making him feel ashamed.

“I have you, darling.” Merlin’s voice was soft, he knows that there is no real rhyme with heats and he could feel his own rut coming on.

But at the moment, he just wanted Arthur to calm down slightly. “Breath for me darling, you are safe.” Merlin just kept on running his hand through Arthur’s hair. With felt even smoother than normal.

Arthur pulled Merlin closer to him. Merlin gently kisses his neck, making Arthur moan and twitch slightly. When Merlin suddenly licked over the bonding mark, it felt like a jolt moved through Arthur and he jumped.

Merlin did it for a second time, he could smell the slick getting more. Arthur squirmed slightly under him and he immediately pulled away.

“You alright darling?” Merlin stayed still, waiting for an answer.

Arthur’s breathing was coming slightly faster, and his face and ears were red. “W-want you.” His voice sounded weak in his own ears.

“I’m here, you have my darling. I will take care of you.” Merlin pressed a chaste kiss to Arthur’s lips. When he pulled away, he started to help Arthur undress. Pressing kiss everywhere he could.

Arthur felt unsure about everything, but at the same time, was this so different from what he ever experienced. Merlin made him feel grounded and his scent was intoxicating.

Woods and water, the warmth were what Merlin smelt like. Arthur pressed his face near Merlin’s scent gland just taking in everything.

He squirmed slightly when Merlin’s hand touched his lower back, for a moment he froze up. Merlin pulled back.

“Are you okay?” Merlin was slightly breathless from kissing Arthur’s body.

“Ye-yeah, just fe-felt strange for a moment.” Arthur’s voice came out slightly broken. He reached up to Merlin again, pulling him back down onto him.

Merlin gave him another kiss, then one more on his nose and the other on the tip of his eyebrow. He just held Arthur for a few seconds, kissing his face.

His hand down Arthur’s back, stopping at his tailbone, for a moment, giving him a chance to get used to the feeling.

When he felt Arthur was completely lax, still squirming slightly, Merlin gently pushed his tights a little bit wider. Settling down between his legs.

Merlin kept a firm eye on Arthur’s reaction, even while his mind was screaming at him to claim his omega, that he needs to breed him.

Arthur’s eyes were wide as he watches Merlin, his breathing came out in little puffs. He jumped slightly when there was a finger against his hole.

Merlin didn’t push in, just traced the rim with the pad of his finger. After a while, Arthur started to pressed back onto the digit.

He let out a puff of air when Merlin curled his finger into him. He could feel another rush of slick soaking everything.

Merlin playing him like a fiddle, by the time a third finger was inside him, he could understand why Merlin told him it would be pleasurable. There was a spot inside him that Merlin kept on hitting with his fingers, making him moan.

When Merlin pulled his fingers out, giving him another kiss, he whined at the empty feeling.

Merlin gently took his legs, allowing him to fold them around his waist. He was gentle as he pushed into Arthur, it didn’t feel like he had stretched him at all. So he worked his way with pushing too much.

When he was finally inside Arthur, Merlin had to force himself to think of the nastiest shit he had seen, Arthur was warm and tight around him. He paused for a few moments giving Arthur time to get used to the feeling.

When Arthur finally nodded that he could move, he did just that.

Arthur clung to him, whimpering everyone once in a while, his voice low as he repeatedly said Merlin’s name.

When Merlin felt like he wouldn’t last much longer, he gently jerks Arthur off with the motions of his trusts.

Arthur spilled over his stomach and Merlin’s hand, he could feel Merlin’s knot growing inside him, making him groan and gave a last weak spurt.

Merlin came with a groan. He gave a last kiss to Arthur’s temple. Before he sank down behind Arthur, pulling him against his chest.

He closed his eyes as they cuddled together.

The heat lasted for another three days before they were able to leave the room.

[drarry-with-a-side-of-harry]

THAT WAS ONE OF THE GAYEST EPISODES IN A HOT MINUTE LMAOOOO WTF

so i’ve just watched series 4 episode 10 ‘A Herald of the New Age’ uhhhhhh

wait wait wait so gwen’s gone for two (2) seconds and Arthur and Merlin are flirting like they’re in a school playground all over again lmaoooo i’m so done

so first of all they get back to Camelot and Merlin’s falls back into his concerned boyfriend routine 🥺🥺🥺🥺 SIDE NOTE THE KNIGHTS ARE JUST FULLY AWARE OF THESE TWO AT THIS POINT THEY ALWAYS FLIRT AND ARE REALLY TENDER IN FRONT OF THEM I CANNOT BE ARSED anyway Merlin asks Arthur if he’s alright and Arthur’s all sad and brooding 🥺🥺🥺 so Merlin says he was being quiet and Arthur just answers him with a snide remark but with none of the laughter and ARTHUR, KING, SWEETIE WHY WON’T YOU JUST LET THIS BOY HELP YOU???? 🥺🥺🥺🥺

SO THEN WE SKIP AHEAD A BIT AND OMFG LET ME TELL YOU I WAS CACKLING WITH LAUGHTER AND KEPT HAVING TO PAUSE IT. THIS SHIT IS GOLDEN

so Merlin walks in on Arthur asleep at his desk. if you’ve watched the show you will remember this scene because it’s too iconic but am i gonna run through it anyway?? you’re damn right i am because i am obsessed lmaoooooo

SO MERLIN JUST STRAIGHT UP BANGS ON THE DESK REALLY FUCKING LOUDLY TO GET HIM TO WAKE UP HAHAHAHAHHAA AND ARTHUR HAS FOOD ALL OVER HIS FACE I-

who fucking wrote this shit it’s too good man

Arthur jumps out of his mind and Merlin the little shit has the audacity to say “oh i’m sorry i didn’t mean to scare you” HAHAHAHAHAHA YOU ABSOLUTE DICKHEAD MERLIN 😭😭😭😭😭😭 and he barely even cracks a smile how this man holds it together i will never know. honestly how Colin Morgan managed to deliver that just once without cracking up is beyond me.

OH BUT WE’RE FAR FROM FINISHED

so Arthur responds “you didn’t scare me, i was asleep” LMAOOOOO YEAH BITCH WE KNOW HAHAHAHAHAHA IM STILL SCREAMING ABOUT THIS

so now Merlin starts to laugh a bit but he’s holding it together. you know when you’re in school and something funny happens with your mates and you shouldn’t laugh because you’re meant to be working but you can’t not laugh and you’re all just snorting to stop yourselves from laughing??? yeah same energy

Arthur: “why’ve you got that stupid smile on your face?” baby i don’t know what to tell you anymore

Merlin: “it’s nothing. why were you sleeping with your head on the table?” and his face just drops to confusion HOW DOES HE NOT KEEP LAUGHING

Arthur: “i fell asleep while i was reading” uh huh okay sure thing

Merlin: “what were you reading?” this is turning into the most mundane conversation you’ve ever heard but it’s priceless because Arthur’s still half asleep and Merlin’s just fucking with him i’m so done

Arthur looks around trying think of something and realises be can’t lie anymore so this bitch just has to say “i am the King of Camelot i do not have to answer to the likes of you” LMAOOOOOOOO KING JUST ADMIT YOURE AN IDIOT AND LEAVE and Arthur’s almost cracking a smile at this point too we get it you love him

Merlin: “oh you’re in a good mood, you obviously got out of the wrong side of the table” AND THIS MAN JUST STARTS PISSING HIMSELF AT HIS OWN JOKE I-

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

AND ARTHUR’S DEADPAN STARE IS PRICELESS

and Merlin explains the joke while he’s still laughing and Arthur replies “that’s extremely clever and funny Merlin there really are no limits to your wit now will you please just get me some breakfast” HAHAHAHAHHAA MATE WHEN I SAY IM HOWLING WRITING THIS POST

‘there really are no limits to your wit’ sent me

so Merlin goes to get breakfast and Arthur (who has loads of food on his face remember) uses the plate as a mirror OH BOY

THIS SCENE COULD NOT BE ANY FUNNIER I SWEAR

he lowers the plate with another deadpan stare aimed at the door. boy is FUMING LMAOOOOOOOO

he shouts Merlin and i will suck my own big toe if there is anyone in the castle Camelot that didn’t hear him MY GOD THAT WAS PRICELESS

me current state: deceased

OH AND IT DOESN’T STOP THERE OH NO NO NO

so the very next scene we’re at training Arthur tells the lads to pair up and Gwaine asks what’s in his hair. Arthur’s face is just a picture. Merlin helpfully answers that it’s stew. Leon asks him why he’s got stew in his hair. Merlin quickly responds “because he was reading” in that tone when Merlin’s being a right snarky little shit oh you know

the lads just turn to look at Arthur like “wtf man??”

Arthur takes a minute and says “change of plan. i think we’ll try something different” lmaoooo you just know what’s coming next

so Merlin’s used for sword practise

Arthur has first go and the lads are smirking at them and each other like “oh these two had another domestic” “about the stew this time ahhh right” lmaooooo

JUST GOLD

there was a whole two (2) minutes of just solid flirting, taking the piss and just generally annoying the shit out of each other i-

OH AND THERE’S MORE

it’s nighttime now and this cheeky bastard asks “would you like me to make up the bed Sire, or will you be sleeping on the table again?” with a little smile on his face HAHAHAHAHAHAHA it just keeps getting better this episode really is a gift

Arthur doesn’t respond because he’s all moody again and Merlin all but roles his eyes all he wants to do is cheer up his boyfriend 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 so he sighs “is this about Gwen” and Merlin looks kinda irritated and sad and Arthur won’t even look at him and Merlin says “we all miss her. you more than anyone” and Arthur cuts him off with “you can go now” maaaaate the feels

Merlin: “Arthur”

Arthur: “get out” oh so now you look at him

omfg you were happy earlier can you please just let him help you ffs you’re just making each other really fucking sad and it’s not helping anything

and Merlin leaves and Arthur kind of looks over his shoulder and almost shakes his head like he doesn’t actually want him to go 🥺🥺 and every damn time something like this happens i expect him to say “no, wait” 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

and now Arthur looks even more sad. well baby i don’t know what to tell you but you did just do that to yourself a little bit. just leT MERLIN HELP YOU ffs

SO Merlin storms in and dad Gaius is at the table reading and Merlin’s just ranting that he’s done being nice to Arthur and he doesn’t get any thanks and he’s saved his life so many times and all he ever does is shout at him. yeah boy we know aND SO DOES GAIUS because this man does not look up at him!!!!!! tell me that’s not Merlin ranting to his dad about his crush i swear-

Gaius tells him there’s more important things to worry about like the plot of this episode perhaps??? lmaoooo this is getting out of hand now. dad’s so done with Merlin’s lovesick bullshit lmaoo

so we move on a bit and Arthur tells his uncle that Merlin thinks Elyan’s possessed oh so now dad’s dead you value Merlin’s counsel huh king?? we love to see it

we love that Merlin can speak up a bit more now ehehehe

so uncle says that Merlin’s just tryna protect his friend and Arthur just looks at Merlin like “i believe you don’t worry but we need evidence man”

oh my christ we’re only half way through true episode i’ll try and speed things up a bit i think the main Merthur action’s done anyway

Merlin breaks Elyan out. arrives back at Camelot and walks into the throne room. Arthur’s drinking and reading something and just looks up when Merlin enters with the most glorious look on his face like “oh this bitch is back finally” and carefully considers what he’s gonna say to him 😂😂😭😭😭

Arthur: “Merlin! good of you to join me. perhaps i should fill you in on all that’s been happening while you’ve been... that’s a good question. what the hell have you been doing??” LMAOOOOO these two i can’t

Merlin: “i was...”

Arthur (cutting him off): “choose your next words carefully. they may be you last” pahahahahahaha alright king pipe down

Merlin: “i was searching.. in the woods.... for some herbs for Gaius” boy’s just rambling about herbs and says he got lost

Arthur: “you mean to tell me that you’ve been wandering around in the woods all night???”

and the look on this man’s face. WONDERFUL

Merlin says yes and Arthur asks what happened to his head because it’s bruised and i just knew it was coming ffs “i tripped over a root and hit my head on a tree and knocked myself out” this fucking moron. this fool i despair

Arthur just toys with him and offers him some food with him at the table is it a joke though Arthur if you actually just want to have a lunch date with him and Merlin realises he’s joking and we get another golden deadpan stare from Arthur and it’s the funniest shit damn this episode is blessed and Arthur just stares him down as he fucks off out of the room lmaooooooo 😭😭😭😭😭😭 and then to finish it off dramatically picks up his paper again so we all know he’s back to ‘important reading’ uh huh Arthur sure you’re not just thinking about that interaction?? like the rest of us clowns

fast forward and Arthur let’s Elyan go and somehow Merlin’s there again???

anyway Arthur talks to his uncle and when he’s gone Arthur confides in Merlin and Gaius i’m sorry but we have to stan some A+ development (also i really hope Arthur’s starting to lose trust in his uncle because i was sort of getting that vibe from this scene idk we can only hope)

Merlin’s in Arthur’s chambers that night clearing up and Arthur says “that’ll be all Merlin” anD MERLIN REPLIES “are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” UMMMMMMM FOR WHAT????? I WAS UNDER THE IMPRESSION THAT ARTHUR WAS GOING TO SLEEP UHHHHHHHHHHHHH IDK MAN SEEMS KINDA SUS TO ME WHAT’RE YOU GONNA DO MERLIN JUST SLEEP IN HIS BED WITH HIM??? HMMMMMMMMM THE PLOT MAJORLY THICKENS BECAUSE ARTHUR DOESN’T EVEN FIND THIS AN ODD SUGGESTION BECAUSE HIS RESPONSE IS JUST “think i’m gonna get an early night” OKAY SO FIRST OF ALL THAT IMPLIES THAT HIM AND MERLIN WOULD BE- *BIG COUGH COUGH*

AND SECONDLY THAT IMPLIES THAT THIS IS SOMETHING THEY’VE DONE BEFORE I REALLY DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH THIS INFORMATION THE EVIDENCE SEEMS PRETTY CONCLUSIVE TO ME YOUR HONOUR

then they have a nice little joke about Merlin not getting an early night lmaooo we do love to see the bants

so later on Merlin follows Arthur into the woods lmao of course he does would you really expect anything less at this point?? and they have this whole why are you here?! no why are you here?! moment lmao

Arthur tells him he’s free to go back to Camelot at any time sweetie you really think that’s gonna happen?? you fool Arthur Pendrgaaon because obviously Merlin’s not going anywhere AND THEN ARTHUR’S BACK TO BEING A SELF SACRIFICIAL LITTLE SHIT AGAIN BABY YOU’RE KING NOW YOU CAN’T BE SO WILLING TO DIE AT EVERY FUCKING PROBLEM WTF we find out that this whole thing’s Arthur’s fault but this whole scene is honestly so nice and lovely and warm and he knows what he did was wrong and that he was a stupid young man 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 and the druid boy forgives him 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 and he’s CRYING omg recently Merlin’s constantly on the verge of tears but when Arthur cries you know some bad shit’s going down and the music omgggg 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 “from this day forth the druid people will be treated with the respect they deserve, i give you my word” 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 i love him your honour

so then we’re back in Arthur’s chambers and Merlin says “you know that was incredibly moving what you said at the shrine” Arthur says “it served it’s purpose” because Elyan’s alright ARTHUR STOP PRETENDING YOU DON’T CARE TO LOOK COOL FOR YOU BOYFRIEND MERLIN KNOWS YOU’RE 10X THE MAN YOUR FATHER EVER WAS

Merlin says “you meant it” and then Arthur gets a bit snappy because he’s embarrassed 🥺🥺🥺 and Merlin says “i don’t ever think i’ve seen you cry before. well not like that. you had tears running down your cheeks it’s nice to see this new sensitive emotional side to you, it suits you” doesn’t it just baby???? 🥺🥺🥺🥺 then we get a classic shut up Merlin and this is the first time Arthur dares to look at him throughout this conversation 😭😭😭 and then Merlin mocks him *gasp* “i really thought you’d changed” lmaoooo “then you’re as stupid as you are ugly” lmaooooooo Arthur just tell him he’s pretty and leave

and just to finish things off

Arthur’s walking to the door

Merlin: “so there’s no chance that we could have a hug?” and he’s half 🥺 and half smiling/laughing ready to play it off

Arthur turns back to him and starts play running towards him and Merlin runs away and Arthur tackles him off screen aND YOU CANNOT TELL ME ARTHUR DID NOT GIVE THAT MAN THE BIGGEST HUG WHEN THEY WERE BOTH DOWN ON THE GROUND AHHHHHHHHAHAHAHA THEH ARE SO PURE I LOVE IT 🥺🥺🥺🥺😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 can you not just imagine these two giggling and chasing each other round the room i-

[darkelfshadow]

Session Summary - 80

AKA “Oyaviggaton - The Island Of Eternity”

Adventures in Taggriell

Session 80  (Date: 6th March 2020)

Players Present:

- Rob (Known as “Varis”) Elf Male.

- Bob (Known as “Sir Krondor) Dwarf Male.

- Paul (Known as “Labarett”) Elf Male.

- Travis (Known as “Trenchant”) Human Male.

Absent Players

- Arthur (Known as “Gim”) Dwarf Male. <Played by Bob>

- John (Known as “Ragnar”) Dwarf Male. <Played by Rob>

NPC

- (Known as “Naillae”) Elf Female. <Controlled by Travis>

Summary

- Sunday, 21st Pharast in the year 815 (Second Era). Late Spring.

- The party begin this session, on the dangerous remote ice lands of the Sea Of Moving Ice.

- Through good luck, the party have managed to locate the large plateau, having randomly picked the right direction to travel. They clean up after their last battle and the party is thanked by the lone tribal ice hunter they saved from the Polar Bears. The hunter gives a carved bone pendant of an animal totem to Ragnar, who places it around his neck, proudly displaying it.

- The party continue walking towards the enormous plateau and reach it an hour later. Stretching far beyond their sight to the left and right it raises one hundred feet above them, the top almost lost in the snow. A small raised shelf on the ground level has numerous tied up canoes, and a large skeleton of a whale is visible. The bones of the beast show large teeth and claw marks.

- The party look silently at the dead whale and the gigantic bites marks on the bones. Trenchant whispers out what everyone is thinking, “Dragon teeth marks.”

- Seeing a well made set of stone and ice steps carved out of a natural chasm in the cliff face, the party ignore this and instead use Trenchant’s Levitate ability to have him take each member of the party up, one by one, and well away from the stairs. They have to leave their Charmed Polar Bear behind as he is too heavy to lift up.

- At the top of the plateau the party find a rugged, uneven and broken landscape filled with rock outcrops and large mounds of ice. The party walk around the top of the plateau for some time, keeping near the edges, until they realise with horror that most of the ice mounds are filled with the dead frozen bodies of dozens and dozens of victims. Men and women of different races, some warriors and some simple folk, but all killed without mercy. Frozen forever.

- With a somber air, the party decide to head into the centre, where the faint smells of cooking oil drift on the winds. Sneaking through the snows and ice formation, the party come across a village of tribal ice hunters set in an enclosed and protected area with larger rocks. The party watch for some time, and observe a seemingly normal village with people going about their daily chores and children running about playing.

- This is not what the party expected. There appears to be no aggression going on, and there isn’t even a proper guard on duty. All the villagers get on with each other in a pleasant and cooperative manner.

- The party huddle up and decide what to do.

- Sir Korndor looks around, “Right group. What’s out plan?”

- Gim speaks, sharpening his axe, “Simple, we go in, kill everything that moves and then find this Maccath lady.”

- Naillae speaks, “Hang on, we can’t do that. Those people aren’t evil. There are children here too!”

- Varis speaks, “Those people could be working for the Dragon. We should sneak in and not reveal our presence. See what’s in that large hut.”

- Gim speaks, “Yes they could be working for the Dragon. So we go in, kill everything that moves and find this Maccath lady.”

- Trenchant shakes his head thoughtfully, “We know nothing about this village but something weird is going on. They are making way too much food for that size village. And we kept seeing them bring food into that large hut in the centre of the village. Where is the food going?”

- Sir Krondor nods, “Yes, we need to find out what’s going on. We have to be careful.”

- Gim nods, “Right, they’re acting suspicious. We go in, kill everything that moves and then find this Maccath lady.”

- Everyone turns towards Gim and glares. Labarett speaks, “That would be no. We wait for night, go in, we talk, we determine what these people are up to and their connection to the White Dragon and Maccath.”

- Everyone turns away from Gim and begins to check their gear. Under his breath Gim mumbles, “I thought it was a good plan.”

- The party wait until nightfall, which in this far northern land turns out to be nothing more than a dimming of the sky as this part of the land at this time of year does not truly have a night.

- The party walk to the village and their presence immediately draws the men of the village who shout out in their strange tongue that none in the party understand. Soon most of the village stands looking fearfully at the strangers to their village. When the Chieftain of the village, Barkingseal, sees the animal totem worn by Ragnar he begrudgingly speaks to the party in broken common and agrees to let the party in for a meal and to stay for one night.

- The party catch the eye of a plain but well dressed female, the village Shaman, Bonecarver, who can strangely speak common very well. As the party try to get away to somewhere more secluded to speak to the Shaman, a large behemoth of a man walks up to Sir Krondor and grabs his shoulder. This giant speaks out in the local tongue and Bonecarver translates that he has challenged Sir Krondor to a one on one duel to prove his bravery.

- Sir Krondor accepts the duel, the terms of which are no outside interference or help, and no magic. Soon most of the village surround the party and make room for a duelling area which Sir Krondor and the giant Ice Hunter, Orcaheart, stand within.

- After Orcaheart nods his head to his opponent, he rushes in and the battle starts. Sir Krondor and the giant man trade blow for blow, each refusing to yield and each holding nothing back. The villagers are shouting and cheering for both sides, as each gets a successful hit.

- Sir Krondor is brought down as Orcaheart tackles him down to the snows, then dropping his simple spear starts to punch into the Dwarf’s head again and again.

- Sir Krondor, his head spinning, reaches out blindly for his shield and grasping it, swings it round to smash into the giant hunter’s head, knocking off him.  Both of them get up slowly and arming themselves anew continue the fight.

- Orcaheart is quick, and sneaky, his skill with the simple spear is remarkable, the weapon almost appears to dance in his large hands. But Sir Krondor, trained Knight Of The Anvil, brings his superior training and knowledge of battle to bare, and in the end knocks Orcaheart to the ground with one final blow to his head.

- Immediately the village explodes in cheers and clapping, shaking Sir Krondor in a show of respect. Bonecarver, administers healing to the Orcaheart and the injured hunter gets up and walks over to Sir Krondor. Orcaheart smiles, a tooth now missing from his bloody mouth and speak, “Unna ca hak, tu in hina. Maki”

- Bonecarver smiles and translates, “He says you are now his worthy brother.”

- Sir Krondor smiles and bows his head, bringing his battle axe up to his head in salute. Orcaheart steps towards the Dwarf and before he knows what is happening almost crushes him in a friendly bear hug.

- The party now follow Bonecarver into her private large hut, filled with brewing supplies and equipment. Various potions line the shelves. She explains to the party that the village is under the watch of the “Old White Death”, the White Dragon known as Arauthator. The people were forced here by the dragon and they must do his bidding or else be killed. They grow food for him and his helpers, Kobolds, Ice Trolls and blue frog like creatures that the party are not sure exactly what they are. They now call this place “Oyaviggaton” which in their language means the “Island Of Eternity” because of the many victims that the Dragon has frozen on the plateau, to be on display forever.

- Bonecarver tells the party she had a vision they would save the village but the Chieftain does not believe the vision and will not risk any more lives of his people. He intends to tell the blue ones about the party in the morning and they will be taken and captured, so as not to anger the Dragon. Bonecarver reveals a hidden pit and stairway in her hut, that leads down into the ice caves below and eventually into the lair of the “Old White One”. She begs that the party free her people. She confirms that the “Horned Lady”, which must be Maccath, is down below somewhere.

- The party accept some potions from Bonecarver and then make their way down into the ice caves. The floor is very slippery and the they are having trouble walking about. The walls here are carved with beautiful and detailed imagery, showing scenes of dragons. Whoever carved these walls was an artist of some skill.

- Exploring the many rooms and passages, the party come to a large chamber where a group of sleeping Kobolds rest peacefully. The party sneak in and begin butchering the unarmed and sleeping Kobolds. The small, defenceless creatures awaken and try to flee but the unrelenting party show no mercy, cutting down the unarmed small creatures. They kill all but one, who manages to flee, screaming in terror at the brutal slaughter.

- The party start to search through the belongings of the dead Kobolds and find no weapons or armour, but instead carving utensils and artisans tools. A quantity of tusks are found, each carved with the same intricate and skilled level of detail as shown on the ice walls all around them.

- The party look around at each other. Labarett speaks,  “I think we just killed a bunch of unarmed artisans.”

- Naillae looks pale, “I think I’m going to throw up.”

- Trenchant speaks, “We keep doing this. Are we the bad buys? Are we racist against Kobolds?”

- Ignoring the moral dilemma for now the party continue searching and discover the Kobolds are wearing leather thongs and straps with small animal beaks inserted into them on their feet to help walk on the icy ground. The party strap these to their feet and can now walk easily.

- Before they can leave however, two Ice Trolls walk into the chamber and a battle ensues. Though large the creatures are very dumb and the party quickly bring them down, using fire to stop the trolls from regenerating.

- They continue exploring the ice caves, coming to numerous caverns. One of which is filled with frozen animals and creatures that show obvious injuries from a large beast, like a Dragon. These frozen animals are displayed like trophies. When the party see a reassembled wooden sailing ship, with a large open chest filled with treasure, they do not touch it, suspecting a trap.

- Continuing to explore they eventually come to a well lit room with a colourful tent to one side. But before they can investigate the unusual presence of this tent, they are attacked by two more Ice Trolls. Once again the party finish them off and keep the creatures down, thanks to using lit torches, but how many torches do the party have?

<And as the party stand over the two dead trolls, fire burning the creatures, that is the end of the session.>

XP Allocation

Group - Combined (This is equally divided by the number of players who were involved)

Quests (Only quests that are completed or rendered undoable, during this session, are shown here)

- “Not all who wander are lost” Reach Oyaviggaton = 500 XP

- “Danger is the source for prayers” Enter Ice Caves without alerting Arauthator = 3000 XP

Creatures Overcome

- Kobolds = 500 XP

- Ice Trolls = 7200 XP

Individual (This is only given to that person and is not divided amongst all players)

Special Bonus (Outstanding Role Playing)

- “I’m not left handed” Accept & Defeat Orcaheart in a Duel = 500 XP <Sir Krondor only>

XP Levels and Player Allocations

Player : Start +  Received = Total  (Notes)

Rob : 96918 + 2000 = 98918

Arthur : 78186 + 1200 = 79386

John : 71302 + 1200 = 72502

Travis : 88641 + 1600 = 90241

Paul : 77517 + 1600 = 79117

Bob : 83945 + 2500 = 86445 (Level up to Level 11)

NPC (Naillae) : + (800)

[tiredcowpoke]

TITLE: Nearly Gone. PAIRING: Arthur Morgan/Fem!Reader REQUEST: anon asked: “Hi! Can you please make an arthur/reader where the reader gets taken by the nite folk? She’s nearly dead when he finds her and he’s just v worried? Previously established relationship if you can“ WARNINGS: Some heavy stuff: torture, gore, kidnapping, murder, mentions of death. It’s mostly angst.  NOTE: This got...really long. I got really into it and it took off on me. It’s not a light read but things are looking up by the end at least. Anyway, I’m happy with how this turned out so I hope you all enjoy, much as I really leaned into the dramatics of it all here. 

...He was really hoping that wasn’t another body. 

Currently riding around in the swamps, the evening heat soaking into his skin, he knew he was pushing into territory that belonged to some rather terrifying folk. He’d heard the stories, seen a few of them. That weeping woman in the swamps, his concern met with knives and silence. The odd body he found tied to or hanging from trees, final letters confirming the horror the stories suggested. He’d even helped that man out in the swamps reclaim his house back from the bastards.

Regardless of his previous encounters, finding one of their victims was a disconcerting sight every time. 

Arthur spurred his horse into a quicker trot, approaching the tree with the strange shape that seemed to be growing out of the bark. However, the closer he got, the more he knew it was what he’d been hoping it wasn’t. It took him a moment to notice the details, the blood soaked ropes--and his stomach dropped. Along with knowing it was a body, he noticed the familiar clothing, blood soaked and torn, and the saddlebag that had been dropped at the base of the tree. 

He knew that saddlebag, it was the one he got you. 

He was looking at you. 

Words seemed to die in his throat, Arthur locking up a moment before he slowed his horse, getting out of the saddle and stepping down into the wet earth under his boots. Much as a part of him was saying he was cutting down your corpse--he could barely see your face, head tilted downward, your skin caked in grime. Yet, he still moved with great speed, pulling his knife out to cut away at the ropes around your chest. You weren’t dead, he wasn’t the one who found your corpse. 

As it would turn out, you weren’t dead but damn near close. 

As the ropes that were constricted around your torso were cut, you let out a sputtering wheeze, a bit of blood escaping your mouth with a quick, wet, cough. Arthur reached out as you sagged forward, quickly wrapping his arms around you as your legs made no attempt to keep you upright. He lowered you somewhat against the front of the tree next to your saddlebag, your breathing still a painful wheeze in his ears, but you were breathing. 

“I got you, darlin’, I--”

There was a sudden animal cry, one that sounded off yet familiar all the same. Arthur stood to his full height, keeping you sitting behind him as he removed his revolver. Sure enough, some people came running in out of the swamps, Arthur recognizing them as the Night Folk. Silent as ever, the only sound around him was the swamp and the crack of his gunshots as he took them out as quickly as he could manage. Much as it was better that you had nobody alive to trail after you, Arthur knew that his opportunity to keep you alive was rapidly closing with each shot he took. 

When the final body in the ambush dropped to the ground, Arthur wasted no time in letting out a shrill whistle to call his horse over. Again, more time being wasted, but when he scooped you up from the ground, you were still thankfully alive, letting out another rattling sound that might have been a noise of pain. Once his horse was close enough, Arthur lifted you up into the saddle, pulling himself up behind you before spurring his horse forward toward the Saint Denis doctor. Much as he didn’t want to show his face too much around the city currently, you would not survive the night back at camp. 

With the way you made no way to keep yourself upright in the saddle, your head lulled back against his chest and your body jostling with each beat of his horse’s hooves against the ground, he saw that clear as day. 

                                                           ***

Your legs were burning, feeling like you were losing control of your movements as you continued to try to sprint through the mud and water of the swamps. They were coming, you knew they were. You had heard a woman screaming, crying. Much as you had just wanted to get to Saint Denis, you couldn’t bring yourself to ignore it. Though, with the startle of your horse darting off into the trees and the woman rising up with murderous intent once you had gotten close enough, your mind had panicked and you took off sprinting. 

There was still the weight of your revolver around your hip, your run slowing after a good scramble to keep yourself going. To open the distance between you and these people, yet you couldn’t. With your mind racing, you stopped completely, pulling the weapon out of its holster and aimed it toward the people charging toward you. 

You fired off a couple shots, dropping a few as they came out of the trees. In the back of your mind, you knew you were already low on ammo. Some part of you just shrugged at the idea of heading up to Arthur’s room to get the ammo you needed. You figured you would just get more at the general store while you were in the city, and yet--

You pulled the trigger and it hit an empty chamber as more people moved out of the trees toward you. The whole time, outside of the sobbing from the woman earlier, there was no shouting, taunting. No gunshots, no horses being used to overtake you. If you had been more prepared, if you had known better, you might have had a chance to fight back against them. 

Yet, you made enough mistakes to make that an impossible situation in the moment. You ran from your horse and you were out of ammo. 

In a last ditch effort, you turned and flung your revolver toward the person nearest to you. It connected, you heard it, but you had turned around before you could really see in order to run. However, you were greeted with a solid body, your immediate reaction was to start swinging. Your fist connected with their gut, yet as you moved to side step around them, something solid came down hard across the back of your head. 

Immediately, there was a ringing in your ears, your exhausted legs giving out under the harshness of the blow. 

                                                         ***

Thankfully, the streets of Saint Denis were pretty bare at night. 

Arthur knew he could not afford to slow down for anything or anybody, his horse’s hooves against cobblestone echoing in his ears as he tried to keep you upright in the saddle with a steady arm wrapped around your torso. There had been no response to his words, his assurances. It seemed like you had no idea you were even alive still, just a mess of blood and mud stained clothes and dangling limbs. You couldn’t have been tied to that tree for long, they were hanging about to wait until he was distracted enough to attack and you were still alive. 

He was kicking himself--he should have known something like this was going to happen. With how everything had been headed for the gang, he figured this might as well have been something to expect. You had left to see what you could stir up in the city, had seemed somewhat excited about it. Remarked how you hadn’t been in one in years but knew how to work them for your benefit. You had placed your hand on his shoulder, commenting on the tightness of his expression before you pressed a kiss to his lips. 

“I’ll be fine, you just have to trust me on this.” 

Now it seemed like you were going to die in his arms. 

He steered his horse around another corner, charging down the street as it became more familiar. Eventually, he found what he was looking for, two figures standing just outside of the practice as it seemed to be getting dark. The doctor and one of the nurses who had been working glanced up at his approach, Arthur pulling back on the reins of his horse as the doctor started to walk toward him. 

“What happened?” the doctor demanded, Arthur slowing his horse to a stop next to him. 

“Found her out in the swamps, strung up like a...I dunno. She’s in a bad way.” 

“We had just shut the doors to the practice but--”

“She’s--” he paused, slipping off the saddle while trying to keep you from falling off with him before he could gather you into his arms. “She’s very dear to me. She ain’t gonna make it through the night if she can’t get any help…” 

“Alright. Alright, come on,” the doctor said, turning quickly as he gestured toward the woman standing a few steps behind him, meeting Arthur’s gaze with a bit of a wide-eyed stare. “Miss, we need to get the surgery ready. Please light the lanterns, I am going to need to examine her wounds.” 

Arthur followed behind the two of them into the somewhat dark building toward one of the rooms, the doctor opening the door before pointing toward one of the tables inside. 

“Put her down there,” he directed, Arthur slipping past him to do so as the room eventually grew brighter from the lanterns. You tensed and shook somewhat in his arms as he did so, another sign that you were still with them. Arthur placed you down on the table, your body still not doing anything to move on its own outside of the odd jerk or noise that would escape your mouth. 

Arthur stepped aside as the doctor moved in to look you over, examining the parts that were still bleeding and opening one of your eyes. 

“She’s not all that responsive, her head’s very warm…” he commented, shaking his own head, “I’ve seen these wounds before, too, on…” 

He didn’t finish his sentence, Arthur didn’t really need him to. You were probably in the minority who were alive enough to be taken to him for help after an attack from who you had run into. 

“I’m going to try to treat her wounds, stop the bleeding,” the doctor said, glancing toward Arthur, “You’ve done enough for tonight, you should try to get some sleep. There’s that saloon in town where you can get a room if you--” 

“I ain’t leavin’ until I know she’s not gonna be dead by the time I’m awake.” 

“...Suit yourself,” the doctor said after a beat, “There are chairs out in the hallway. You don’t have to leave but there’s no use in you standing behind me while I do this.” 

                                                         ***

You were jerked awake by sudden movement, someone pulling you up from the dirty floor of the cabin you had been kept in. You could still taste the rag that had been shoved in your mouth, any protest you let out at being moved being muffled. Your body ached from being dragged around, cuts and wounds starting to heal over, some burning with freshness. You had tried to escape many times, usually met with some resistance and recently the sharp edge of a blade shoved into your side. 

That wound was bad, making it hard for you to stand upright. 

Nobody talked, not to you and not really to each other. You knew they had some sort of system, mimicking certain animal noises that got certain responses from the people around you. Still, you had no idea what was going on. 

However, there was commotion, people moving about quickly in defense of whatever or whoever was outside. You were pulled harshly toward the back of the cabin and outside, your body protesting with sharp flares of pain as you tried to resist what was happening. The sounds of gunshots startled you, causing you and the person trying to sneak you out to flinch. You had never seen them use guns, not when attacking and they hadn’t used them when they had chased you down the few times you got further than a couple steps. 

With that knowledge, you started to thrash about in the grip of your captor--someone else was there. This could be your chance. 

You were dragged along, your screams and pleas for help were held behind the rag you couldn’t get out of your mouth and the force of being pulled along. 

With another breath through your nose, you managed to turn yourself around toward the cabin again where the fight was happening. You could see the people of the group keeping you dropping like flies, your eyes scanning for the flash of a gun. Eventually, your eyes found the source, the person moving along quickly toward the cabin. You took in another quick breath, your eyes widening. 

You knew that hat, that shirt. You knew that face. 

He didn’t see you, too busy shooting at the people coming out of the cabin. Still, you screamed, feeling the vibration of it behind the rag. With the gunshots and distance, it was no use but you tried. You screamed, tried to call for help. His name. All the while you were pulled around, your legs giving out in desperation as you started to sob as your struggle and desperation went unnoticed. You were pulled upright and over a shoulder, your eyes still on the cabin as they stung with tears.

Arthur, please…

                                                            ***

All he could really do was wait. 

The doctor left the room a while ago, wiping the blood from his hands as he directed the nurse there with him to help him move you into one of the beds in the other room. Arthur could feel the exhaustion from the stress and anxiety, the lack of sleep weighing heavily along with the guilt. He knew these people were out there when you had left--perhaps not to the full extent, he hadn’t really until he had got that cabin back for that man in the swamp. You had been missing that whole time and he had no damn idea. 

He should have warned you, went with you or--shit, he didn’t even know. Maybe that guilt was misplaced, some reasonable part of him arguing that he couldn’t have known this would have happened, and yet he couldn’t even bring himself to look at you when you were moved by the doctor and the nurse into another room. 

He should have said more to you. That he valued your presence, that you stayed with him even during points where he was angry, stressed, and a pain to even be around. Through the arguments. He loved you, he knew that long before this happened. He felt terrible that this was what pushed all of it further to the surface, but it was true. 

“You should try to get some sleep.” 

He was getting tired of hearing that. 

Arthur glanced up to see the soft eyes of the nurse that had been with them for the night, the streets outside getting somewhat lighter but still very much dark. He let out a small sigh through his nose, rubbing tiredly against the side of his jaw. 

“The doctor’s closed her wounds and stopped the bleeding, the most we can do now is let her rest and wait to see if she wakes up enough to drink and eat something. She’s very weak but until then...there’s nothing else any of us can do,” she explained, lowering her gaze somewhat, “I’ll stay tonight until another nurse comes in the morning. The doctor doesn’t like to give beds to non-patients with how things are in this city, otherwise I would offer you to stay with her, but…” 

“I understand,” Arthur said, somewhat clipped but not as stern as he had been a couple hours ago--he could feel how useless he was in this situation. They didn’t need to tell him that. 

“If you stay in the Bastille, I can send someone to your room as soon as she’s woken up,” she offered, Arthur letting out a small sigh through his nose. 

He really didn’t want to leave the building with them still not being able to give him assurance and you weren’t going to pass away while he was asleep, but…

“..Fine,” he said with a sigh, “Thank you. I’m gonna need to hold ya to that.” 

“Of course,” the nurse said with a small nod, Arthur returning it lightly as he stood from the chair. His limbs felt heavy, the energy his anxiety had given him had ebbed out and he knew exhaustion very well. 

There was nothing he could do right now. Still, he cast a glance toward the room they put you in before he relented and headed toward the door. 

                                                          ***

It didn’t feel real anymore, but you knew you were running again. Running with reckless abandon, tripping and fumbling over exposed roots and mud that threatened to pull the boots right off your feet. 

Still, you needed to keep moving. They couldn’t find you again, they were going to kill you. 

Why they had kept you alive for so long, you had no idea. You were exhausted, being dragged from place to place, days blurred together. Yet, you saw your chance when the person watching you had succumbed to his own exhaustion, causing you to move toward the water and followed that along until you were far enough away to start running toward the road. 

Any damn road, anybody with people on it. 

You stumbled, the rope keeping your arms binded seeming to slip away through your struggling. Finally. You paused a moment to rip the cloth in your mouth away with a gag and stuttered cry of relief. Though, you knew that would be short lived if you didn’t keep moving. Working up a small amount of willpower, you started to run again, much as your legs felt like dead weight at that point. 

The swamp seemed to stretch on forever--just mud, water, and trees. 

Still, you continued to move, pushing forward as fast as your legs could carry you. Eventually, things seemed to even out, the ground becoming more solid. You slowed for a moment, looking around you while breathing and wheezing heavily. It was a road, one you had been hoping to find, yet it didn’t feel right. Everything felt still, like it was waiting. You were waiting. Why did you stop? You breathed out heavily, shifting before turning and started to run again down the road. You needed to keep going, needed to find your way to town or back to camp or--

The thoughts were cut short by a whizzing sound, your body suddenly hit the ground with the impact long before you felt the pain of it. Looking down, you could feel the sharp pain starting to shoot up your leg as a makeshift arrow stuck out of your leg. 

Shit, no. No, no no! 

You tried to get up, yet any movement had you sobbing out in pain as the arrow did its job. It wasn’t long until you heard footfalls coming toward you. Yet, that unreal feeling seemed to settle around you, the sound of a struggle coming from behind you before more people’s legs appeared in your line of vision. They were pulling someone along, hearing an all to familiar voice in your ears. 

Suddenly, you knew that person they were holding, the outfit, the satchel, the boots. You struggled to find your voice, couldn’t look up to see him but you heard him struggle, squirm, before there was a sickening sound, a gurgling that had your gut twisting and robbed the air from your strained lungs as you saw him stop moving, legs going limp before he was dropped. 

He landed in a heap on the ground in front of you, his neck stained with blood as Arthur stared lifeless into the space above your head. You seemed to find your air first, taking in a deep breath as you felt someone grip your arms and hauled you to your feet. 

In the doctor’s practice in Saint Denis, one of the nurses jolted and dropped a glass onto the floor when you, despite your injuries, managed to shoot upright in bed and screamed bloody murder. 

                                                           ***

It took a few moments for him to stir. 

Getting that damn hotel room felt terrible. Everything was too rich, too luxurious for what he had just been through. Still, a bed was a bed. It took some tossing and turning before Arthur managed to find some sleep--dreamless, despite everything. Still, he wasn’t too sure what that sound was until it happened again. Sounded like someone banging against something, until reality sunk in and he realized it was his door. 

Arthur sat up quickly, blinking heavily and stumbling slightly as sleep lingered, but managed to pull it open to see that nurse from before standing outside. She looked exhausted, somber. For a few moments, he felt his stomach tighten as a part of him waited for the words. 

We acted too late, she--

“She’s awake,” she stated around a somewhat tired exhale, “A tad hysterical with her fever, but awake. If you wish to see her, now is the time.” 

The relief he felt was instant, Arthur shutting his eyes a moment as he let out a breath before he nodded, stating he’d follow behind in a minute. He managed to pull himself together from the lingering effects from sleep, gathering his things before heading down toward his horse to make his way back to the doctor. He wasn’t too sure what would be greeting him when he got there, but if you were awake, that was a good sign. 

He walked into the building and down toward the room they had put you in, seeing the doctor from before in there as he was talking to you while you were nursing something from a tin cup. 

“You have to rest, straining your sutures like that again won’t be good,” he explained, your gaze on the blanket over your lap as you nodded lightly. 

You looked terrible. They had cleaned you a bit while you were resting, at least in the face and arms, but he could see the days of little sleep in your face. However, he didn’t get to linger on the thought long as you raised your gaze to meet his own. The expression that crossed your face was...strange. Your eyes widened, stare unwavering as if you were looking a ghost in the face. The doctor shifted, glancing over his shoulder toward him as well before raising to his feet, turning toward you. 

“I’ll give you two a moment, but you really need to rest.” 

Your gaze flickered between Arthur’s and the doctors, as if you were disbelieving that he was even standing there. Arthur finally moved forward as the doctor moved toward his surgery, all of which was watched by you in complete silence. He moved toward the bed, pausing a moment as he tried to find what to say. However, you raised your arms toward him, Arthur moving toward you at the invitation. 

He had been expecting you to pull him into an embrace, yet your hands found his face, cupping his cheeks as you seemed to take him in. Arthur let out a somewhat confused huff when he felt you tilt his head up as if to look under his chin for something. 

“Head’s still attached, far as I’m aware,” he commented, tilting his head back down as you pressed your hands against his cheeks again. 

“I thought you were dead,” you said, your voice rough and shaking somewhat. 

“What?”

“I-I-I saw you die!” you exclaimed, tears gathering in your eyes, “I saw...I saw your neck get…”

“I weren’t the one strung up in a tree,” he replied, bringing his own hands up to remove your hands from his face as he felt your fingers digging in a bit as if feeling the bone under his skin would be enough to confirm he was there. “I weren’t just thinkin’ you was, either. You came very close to dyin’.” 

“...They got me,” you muttered, closing your eyes tightly for a moment. 

“They don’t no more,” Arthur stated, shifting to sit on the edge of the bed as he held your hands in his own. Your hands were clammy and shaking, but he would take that over the lifeless body he had carried in the night before. 

“I ain’t lettin’ nobody take you again, I promise,” he continued, letting you pull your hands from under his own. 

Instead of pulling them toward yourself or shying away from his words, you reached out toward him again. Arthur shifted forward, wrapping his arms gently around your back as you held tightly to his shoulders, letting out a few shuttering breaths as you buried your face in his neck. He brought his hand up to the back of your head, holding you to him as you tightened your hold. 

“I’m scared I’m going to sleep and wake up...in the swamps or you’ll be gone and…” 

“I ain’t goin’ nowhere,” Arthur stated, “We don’t have to go anywhere, either. Got a room in that saloon for a couple days, if the doctor’s got you out by then. I’ll explain what happened if anybody comes lookin’.”

You nodded lightly against him, Arthur feeling you relax in his hold somewhat. He shifted back as you did, but you didn’t pull away completely as your hands found his face again, looking deeply into his eyes for a moment before you nodded, seeming to accept that he really was there. 

Arthur leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the side of your head before pressing his forehead there. 

“Almost lost you,” he muttered, watching as you leaned your head against his own, screwing your eyes shut. “I love you, darlin’. Not sure what I would’ve done if I did.” 

“I love you, too,” you whispered, cupping your hand against the stubble on his cheek, “I’m not going anywhere, either.” 

Arthur nodded lightly against the side of your head, holding the gesture for a few more moments before he pulled away to let you rest back against the pillow. 

“You look exhausted,” you commented, making Arthur chuckle. 

“Yeah, but not as much as you. Should get some rest, let them do what they need and you’ll be fine.” 

You nodded lightly, holding onto his hand as you allowed yourself to nod off. Arthur squeezed your hand in return as you did so, glancing away toward the doorway somewhat. His chest still tightened uncomfortably at the thought of what you had been through, and his memories of the night before, but with your breathing evening out and your hand resting in his own, he finally felt himself relax. 

He still held your hand for some time after, keeping that moment. 

[we-stan-nikolai]

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."

[thisisamerlinonlyevent]

To fall asleep in another’s arms

Pair: Merthur Words: 1608 Warnings: language, blood, cuts, scars Snippet:  No, King Arthur of Camelot would blame his neckerchief-wearing-manservant for being late for work. At least he wouldn't blame him for a very mysteriously broken window that no one fell off of, of course not.

Here’s a Merthur little thing that I hope you enjoy!

Merlin was late. Merlin was late to his work once again.

This is a normality to Arthur for sure, probably blaming his tardiness on gin or mead and not on the three assassins that infiltrated the walls of Camelot like everyone seems capable of doing these days. No, he wouldn't blame the three suspicious looking fellows that appeared in the fair that happened hours before in ungodly hours of the morning, disappearing mysteriously at the high of the party to the very empty king’s chambers and having their asses kicked by a neckerchief-wearing-warlock who, not only directed the fight very far away from the civilian filled streets but he also got his very own ass kicked multiple times. 

No, King Arthur of Camelot would blame his neckerchief-wearing-manservant for being late for work. At least he wouldn't blame him for a very mysteriously broken window that no one fell off of, of course not.

So, after spending a generous time in removing window shards stupidly slow and regretting his own existence for another generous hour, he went to the king's chambers.

Servants and others cast glances at his very-covered-in-bandages body but no one spoke to him. Because they knew. They knew he was late, goddammit.

His back ached and he almost screamed as he reached his master's chambers but nevertheless, he knocked. He heard a scream of frustration that sounded vaguely like 'Finally!' and assumed that that was his cue.

Before he even fully stepped into the room, the entire castle heard through the ajar door: "For the love of GOD, Merlin, are you allergic to your own responsibilities?!" Merlin opened his mouth, but then again "Are you a complete imbecile?! I'm supposed to already be dressed, fed, bathed if I so desire because I am the king and I have duties, Merlin!" he acknowledged that, oh how he could talk about his duties for hours without end if doing so wouldn't get him beheaded on the spot. So again, he opened his mouth but shut it right after.

Was there any point? If Arthur wasn't human and therefore incapable of exhaling fumes from his ears and going redder than the knights of Camelot's capes  he would be doing that now. Putting his hands on his hips, posture tense and face furious and full of wrinkles that he would one day regret certainly made its own point, though.

Merlin, although having been thrown out of a window when the morning was still dark and having more cuts than perfectly done tasks in his life, still felt horribly guilty. Alright, maybe today he had excuse, and in another occasions where Camelot had been in danger he could have stayed in bed as its own reward, but other times he admits he might've been lazy and petty and childish. 

Still, he was exhausted. Surely Arthur couldn't miss his severely bandaged body? Or his bruises? Or his huge eye bags since no one wants him well rested these days? Surely he'll at least notice his state and maybe soften his whole demeanor a bit?

For awhile, he didn't and Merlin couldn't care less; he was fed up.

"I know you have your kingly duties, Arthur, but can't you see I'm badly injured? I mean, I'm covered in bandages." the blonde examined him head to toe and while he did notice it, he still wouldn't stop his fuming. Merlin kept going. "I'm constantly tired, constantly. These days, I can't rest! And it's not only you, it's Gaius, it's other servants, it's the knights, you all work me to the bone and, honestly, I accept everything that it's thrown on me but goddammit can't you let me rest one day!" he was shouting, he was frustrated, he was tired. And it wasn't only Arthur, that's true, in fact, if it wasn't for his stupid kind heart no one would get shit done in Camelot. He almost felt used.

Arthur now looked unimpressed: "Merlin, I get that we all have bad days but this isn't the first day that you have arrived late! Do you seriously want me to believe that somehow you've tired yourself enough that in all these years of work you think you have the right to put the blame upon basically everyone in Camelot and not on yourself? Honestly, Merlin, I'm tired of your lame excuses."

"I WAS THROWN OFF A BUILDING!"

Arthur, the arrogant pig, laughed. "I'm sure you were, and I don't have a council meeting to attend right Merlin? Get on with it."

And so for the next few hours, Arthur would punish Merlin and work him to the bone. His multiple wounds would open and it would slow him and it would make him be punished even more, no word said to Arthur except for 'Sire' or 'My Lord'.

With his last task being washing all of Arthur's boots in his own chambers while the king ate loudly and he had none to fill his empty stomach, he had grown incredibly quiet, a definite blessing to Arthur's ears he guessed.

He's not sure what made the king break the silence but break it he did: "Merlin?"

"Yes, sire?" god, he sounded dead. If he wants to retire to his chambers he can't appear tired. 

"Knowing you and the fact that you are the biggest coward on all five kingdoms, why in the hell are you so bandaged for?" oh wow, would you look at that? King Arthur could be perceptive. A wonder, truly.

He stayed quiet, more out of not finding an excuse than for being a petty bitch. Would he even have the energy to answer? Who fucking knows. He's almost done with the boots at least.

Arthur broke the silence once more: "Merlin? Seriously, what happened? Did Gaius even look at it, it seems that a wound has bled through." ah shit. Of course. Of course his stupid wounds would open at a time like this when he just wants to ignore the existence of the world itself and succumb to the darkness he calls sleep. He wasn't prepared, for god's sake. 

Merlin only sighs, and keeps on cleaning. "Why do you care anyways, sire?" he sounded like an angsty teen. Oh well, it can't get worse.

With all that damn scrubbing he didn't realize that Arthur had gone to his side. To say he got a scare when he turned around was an understatement. "Relax, idiot. Let me look at it." he almost didn't care if Arthur saw him shirtless if it wasn't for the fact that he had a huge ass scar in the middle of his chest that showed through his back thanks to Nimueh and her merciless balls of fire.

After looking like an annoyed kitten when he tried to stop Arthur from undressing him, he slumped, defeated.

He slumped even more when he heard Arthur gasp after freeing him of his bandage cage. A hand grazed the scar on the back, withdrawing every time it grazed the new cuts that made it more sensitive.

He could only imagine Arthur's face. Looking back at it, he saw disbelief, worry and, more surprisingly, sadness. Or was it regret? He's not sure.

"What happened to you?" if Arthur had been maybe an inch farther from Merlin, he wouldn't have heard him whisper it. He felt warm all over; like he always feels like when Arthur shows him care.

He felt hands turn his face: "Merlin, answer me. What do you do in the tavern?" his face is so full of concern and it makes him want to laugh, like guffaw until he can't breathe. He manages a chuckle, his head facing his lap once more.

"I'm not even in the tavern that much, that's just an excuse Gaius made up." he's sure Arthur knew that already but he can't say anything else. 

He sees Arthur shift even closer, trying to level with him, to speak while seeing eye to eye. He grants him that. "What the hell do you do when you're not in my line of sight?" he's not angry nor upset but he's worried and he wants the truth and Merlin doesn't know what to do.

He opens his mouth and Arthur waits. Oh god, he could say a million things right now: 'I have magic.', 'I am Emrys.' 'I care for you.' 'I love you.', 'I can't say.'. In the end he only starts, "Arthur-"

"Don't even dare lie to me, Merlin. I want the truth." alright, so he's frustrated. His brows fold and make him frown but still Merlin can't say. 

His eyes feel so heavy. And how amazing it would feel to free them of their burden but crying in front of Arthur Pendragon won't solve anything, it won't free him of his destiny, it won't give him peace.

Arthur's hands fill his cheeks, make them face each other. And then Arthur pleads: "Please, Merlin, talk to me. What's wrong?" the king's hands are so warm and so, so soft. He's warm all over, his face is hot, and he is so, so tired.

So when he feels fingers swipe his tears dry he kind of can't stop. He sobs into Arthur's hands and somehow he's sobbing into his shoulders a moment after but he's sobbing his heart out, sobbing the contents of his mind until he can rest for one night, at last.

He's not sure if he feels a kiss on his shoulder or not, but the touch is soft and healing and everything he needed to finally fall asleep against his king.

[lastdancewith-mj]

Headcannons//Draco M.

Hi! Thought I would try my hand at some good ol’ Malfoy. Let me know if you like seeing this, and also, requests are open! Comments are encouraged and appreciated :)

Masterlist

Note: This goes through a whole bunch of years, and it’s not entirely organized. 

Draco’s whole life was laid out for him:

He was going to marry Pansy Parkinson, he was going to have a son, he was going to follow orders and get the job daddy paid to get him at the ministry

At first it peeved him because his pride in himself was greater than his family's pride, and how dare someone tell him what to do when he is Draco Malfoy

But after a few fights at home and a few guilt trips, he let it turn into something bearable. It wasn’t that bad, he said, Pansy isn’t the worst bird, she’s fine, the job’s fine, waking up at 8 am for the rest of his adult life is gonna be fine

And one of the biggest things he took pride in himself was his brain. He knew he was smart (forget about Granger beating all the time)

And he saw warning signs all his life, just like Potter did on the other side

And he knew there were other choices, like the one the Weasley family chose to follow

So when Lord Voldemort moved into his house, sat at his table, and drank from his cup he saw that his dad was acting like a clueless ape 

And that rang an alarm for Draco

Because if his dad was no longer the man he used to be, then what’s gonna happen to me?

Draco soon became one of the most talented wizards in occlumency not that he could tell anyone because that came down to his only piece of survival

He started to look over his shoulder, watching out for his aunt, and he barely left his mother’s side when he was home

And there was the niggling thought that he had an important role in this war. Potter wasn’t so special, we all have hard decisions ahead of us, he would think bitterly. He thought it all the time, and grew sour because of it (but when he saw Potter’s face in his home, surrounded by Greyback, he forgets about it for a second)

Draco is ready to cave in his sixth year; he can feel himself breaking down because he doesn’t need a prophecy to know he’s on the front line, that he could very well not see 1997

But Draco isn’t one to get irrational

He visits Dumbledore one night and stares at his blackened hand. He tells his headmaster exactly was is going to happen to him in a few months. Lays it out like a math problem. He manages to keep his voice steady but it cracks when Dumbledore reassures him

Dumbledore’s image of the boy is shattered; this boy is braver than he thought. Even though he knew he was going to die, he appreciated someone telling him face to face, man to man. (Even with Snape, the subject was barely touched on) 

A week before the planned death, Dumbledore was found dead in his chambers. He appeared to have gone in his sleep, but Draco had a feeling, a gut pull, because that man never did anything without a purpose 

And neither did Draco

Also...some happier stuff: 

Draco’s talent at being in the spotlight rendered him the MC of multiple family christmas game nights. ten year old boy, talking into his wand and dishing jokes to his relatives

Sixth year Draco was sneaking down a hall he shouldn’t have been in overnight, and accidentally caught the eye of McGonagall. She didn’t give him a second glance, and let him on his way

He is often kind to his friends without realizing it

He’ll led his coat to Pansy, and he’ll give the last bite of his dinner to the guy next to him, and he’ll hold the door open, and he’ll tell the girl he sees in the common room her ponytail is lopsided just because

A master at a good distraction. he can easily focus a group’s attention to the right, when to the left Blaise and Theo are smuggling out pastries from the kitchen

His face rarely shows what he’s really feeling

All his stress goes to his shoulders (around his fifth year he found out if he has enough anxiety, his neck will stop moving) 

A week after the war he’s at a trial for his family (he’s willing to take any sentence at this point, just so that everyone can just shut up). When he looks at the people in the stands, he can see Hermione Granger standing next to Arthur Weasley

she stands up to the judge and makes up a lie that he saved her life in the war, and Draco almost cries on the spot but he’ll never know why

(He sends her a christmas card every year, with a personal letter attached updating her on his life. He always gets one back in time for New Years Eve). 

If you made it all the way down here, thank you very much! Let me know in the comments if you enjoyed it :) 

(I’m going to be frank here because I feel like other writers on here sometimes feel a bit alone but I just want to say that if you enjoyed, like really liked, my work, (or anyone else’s) please leave something behind that’s not just a like. I understand bloggers want to have a certain look on their blog, but please, just leave a comment. It keeps us going.)

[thegeminisage]

alright im about to watch 5.03 of merlin for the 2nd time ever

because if i dont do it now i may NEVER GET ANOTHER CHANCE

but first i wanna get out of the way that i thought merlin convincing arthur to keep the ban on magic in 5.05 because he was trying to thwart ~*~destiny~*~ or whatever is the laziest writing ever, it’s unsatisfying for the audience, it renders the rest of the last season utterly pointless, it’s unfair to merlin and arthur, and the tonal shift of the show from farting trolls in season 2 to full greek tragedy in season 5 was completely unwarranted and i feel TRICKED as a human person because i expected the end to be bittersweet and make me sad, not table-flipping angry, and i do not at all have high hopes for the finale

but i can ignore something having a “bad last five minutes” i did it for life is strange and final fantasy 13-2 i will do it for merlin but honestly 

speaking on 5.03, after it was over the first time i was like “i can never write my fanfic now because nothing i ever do will be as good as that” but i’m really relieved in that way that that was apparently the last good episode of merlin because now i can continue my work in peace and maybe hopefully even actually finish it

okay commence the liveblog:

love that arthur and merlin are down to just jump off their horses whenever random women start screaming in the distance. season 5 could have been so good, they’re so much more grown up and in sync with one another, i absolutely LOVE their #vibe

it was interesting to me also that arthur DEMANDED a fair trial for this woman despite her being accused of sorcery. god, he was SO CLOSE?? that hatred of magic just can’t really take root in him especially with uther gone...arthur may be an asshole in the early seasons, and he may be quick to anger and quick to lash out in that anger, but it’s just not in him to be cruel, especially needlessly

EVEN THIS LADY IS LIKE “u showed kindness and compassion” arthur is a Good Boy deep down he is he IS he didn’t care a bit about that horn she gave him but still politely said it was beautiful

although lmao the way his face changed when she said it was magic...that’s the STUFF

lowkey losing it at athony head in the credits. i was looking to see if he’d be in the s5 ones since he’s dead and didn’t see him in 5.01 or 5.02 so when i DID see him in 5.03 i was like haha no way did they pay to put him in here i guess i just missed him the first couple of times BUT I WAS WRONG

like, in buffy, they spend an entire episode trying to decide whether or not to necromance their mom or whatever and she doesnt actually APPEAR IN THE EP they never SEE her i thought this would be an episode ABOUT uther i didn’t think uther would be IN it

love that from the get-go arthur’s face screams “i am thinking about making a terrible mistake” and merlin’s face is like “he is thinking about making a terrible mistake”

i’m quite proud of merlin in s5 actually. bad writing aside he uses multiple braincells many times per episode. it’s a vast improvement. same energy as clary from shadowhunters right down to getting shafted in his final season

ive said it before and ill say it again gwen looks SOOO GOOOOD as queen

if this is the anniversary of uther’s death then (if you go by 1 season = 1 year) arthur just turned 30...it’s been nine years and change since merlin met him, and by the end of season 5 it will have been an entire decade

in an otherwise increddibly heavy episode arthur panicking and throwing all the apples out of the bowl so he could cover the horn with it is absolutely priceless. season 5 if nothing else has really hammered home for me what a TERRIBLE liar arthur is - merlin got good at it fast out of necessity but arthur can’t hold a poker face to save his LIFE. “leave it.” “why??” “because i’m telling you to and i’m the king of camelot” buddy......

we were ROBBED. if there had ever been a day where arthur came to accept merlin’s magic but still had to help merlin hide it there could have been an entire episode of arthur nearly blowing merlin’s cover because he’s a nervous nelly and at the end he goes “i cant believe you have had to do this 24/7 for YEARS without a single friend to help you” and merlin goes “well now i have you” anyway.

i love also that repeatedly when arthur goes to do something scary by himself he also brings merlin. they LITERALLY are two halves of a whole

“you’re threatening me with a spoon??” i can’t tell you about the unfortunate fanfics i have seen involving The Spoon. i shall also not mention the ones involving The Glove. we will not speak of it

I CANNOT BELIEVE STONEHENGE IS IIN MERLIN. i got so agitated i did not pay one bit of attention to the conversation following its reveal and me and cathy and had to rewind so i could listen properly

my hate-on for stonehenge goes thusly: stonehenge apocalypse, starring misha collins, is @callowyn‘s favorite movie. i have seen it 45 times. i hate it nearly as much as she loves it. it’s an age-old battle

merlin is so intense when he looks for signs in arthur that he DOESN’T totally hate magic...arthur using magic to see his dad again is one of those signs. he’s willing to turn to it in desperation - maybe he’d be willing in less desperate times too

“my father was taken from me before his time” i mean...he was practically in a coma. so like. he wasn’t

love that when arthur mentions merlins dad ONCE he immediately looks like he’s about to cry. mood. i also want to cry every time i think about merlins dad

up until the moment i laid eyes on uther i was SURE they werent actually gonna do it. i came into this thinking it was a FLASHBACK EP

for the record (and believe me i NEVER thought i’d say this) even though i waited and waited for his demise and cheered when he was gona for good...i really missed uther in season 4. at least with uther you know what you’re getting. agravaine (his replacement as “evil guy who keeps us from being able to solve our problems too easily”) was a slimy cowardly CREEP. and in season 5 i WISH things were as simple as “work around uther’s pigheaded unreasonableness”

for a hot second i really thought uther and arthur would have a nice conversation where they reconciled or said something heartwarming. i was worried about an uther redemption arc - this guy is responsible for the genocide of magic users, he doesn’t deserve redemption - but this show said NOT TODAY and they said it QUICK

WE

ARE

SO

BLESSED

i have A LOT of issues with season 5 but JESUS FUCKING CHRIST THIS WAS DADDY ISSUES 2.0 BROUGHT BACK FROM THE DEAD

repressed trauma returns: harder better faster stronger!! that’s the STUFF

was i not just speaking the other day on my fanfic ask meme about how i love emotionally intense stuff? this is IT babey

uther’s such a bad father! he’s with his only child again for the last time in ever and all he does is tear him a new one! this is why arthur’s such a fucked-up human being (morgana too) 

i’m THRILLED we got to revisit this. his eyes get bigger and bigger and he starts fucking stammering and by the time uther’s done calling him weak and a failure he looks ready to CRY. i was HOLLERING. i still couldnt believe uther was even HERE and not only is he HERE he’s a WRECKING BALL

“this CAN’T be the last time i’ll ever see you” oh buddy you’re gonna wish it was

and he looks back, as he leaves. of COURSE he does. just like lot’s wife. so it goes.

you know how at the end of every supernatural episode sam and dean debrief and talk about their feelings in the car? for merlin and arthur it’s almost always done around a campfire at night - sometimes in arthur’s chambers or other places, but usually out here in the wilderness where it’s just the two of them. i’m...really going to miss it, when it’s gone.

“my father doesn’t approve of the way i’ve chosen to rule his kingdom” “you mean YOUR kingdom”

you know i don’t think i really got...like, fundamentally, on a deep level...that merlin fucking HATES uther

i’ve seen him save uther’s miserable life so many fucking times that i thought for merlin it was kind of the way it was with gwen - he feels nothing for him, but he looks after him for arthur’s sake (or as i came to understand later because he’s professor x about the whole thing)

but the way his expression got SO UGLY when arthur revealed that uther just shit-talked him the entire time...holy fuck

between that & some other stuff that happens later it really paints a clearer picture of like...uther’s dead so merlin doesn't have to hold back anymore and he FUCKING HATES HIM?? like obviously he SHOULD bu i just never SAW it before this. merlin LOATHES him. it’s INCREDIBLE to witness when he bore it so silently for so long. maybe even merlin didn’t realize just how much he hated him until now

and not to get too real here but if youve ever been friends with someone who had an abusive/toxic parent or was in an abusive/toxic relationship and you watch them feeling like shit after and they start making excuses for that asshole like “oh yeah he’s right about x” and you just want to find this horrible person and THROTTLE THEM that emotion is like ALL OVER merlin’s face rn. i didn’t actually seriously "”ship”” merlin and arthur until late season 4/early season 5 (i didnt like dislike it i just wasnt actively bothered by a lack of it) and what changed was this vibe. merlin wants to kill uther all over again just because he made arthur feel this way. he’s so fuckijng PROTECTIVE

and he still almost manages to drag a smile out of him via roasting, god bless these 2

ok so i didnt believe this show would actually DO THAT re: putting uther himself in this ep but i was doubly shocked by the fact that he HITCHED A RIDE AND GOT OUT

me shrieking during this entire poltergeist sequence: OH MY GOD OH MY GOD IT’S REALLY HIM?? HOLY FUCK HE IS LITERALLY HAUNTING ARTHUR I CAN’T BELIEVE THEY’RE DOING THIS I CAN’T BELIEVE THEY’RE GIVING US THIS etc etc etc

actually most of that was probably muffled nonsense because i was yelling with both hands over my mouth

percival’s the realest motherfucker on this whole show. dude survives a murder attempt in which he got an AXE lobbed at him by the fucking GHOST of a power-mad genocidal king and he’s like: yeah idk i guess it fell

there was thunder in the bg for this WHOLE ep and i’m Big into it

absolutely CACKLING at the bit where merlin has to ask arthur if he looked back at uther’s spirit. it’s one of those nice big heavy questions - so heavy, in fact, that arthur can’t answer, can’t even LOOK at merlin, either because he’s ashamed or because he’s bugging out or both. you thought this shit was over? it’s never over! daddy issues are a lifelong ride, pal! arthur’s just get to haunt him literally this time. god it’s so fucking good

can i just say? merlin reads that damning silence reeeal well. and it’s a big, heavy thing to know about arthur - but then again he knows all the big heavy things about arthur

the score for this episode is really good too...very suspenseful and good, adds a lot to the atmosphere, keeps it from getting too slow

there’s a hint of merlin’s absolute HATRED of uther in this conversation again - the way his face tightens when he says “uther would do anything to protect his legacy and that makes him dangerous, who knows what he’s capable of now”

and arthur dismisses him because he can’t hear this but merlin almost refuses to leave - and when he DOES leave, he doesn’t take his eyes off arthur for one fucking second. he stares him down all the way out of the room. i don’t think it’s because he’s angry with arthur, per se - he’s angry with uther, and he knows uther in a way arthur never can or will, as someone ruthless who will kill without warning or remorse. he’s afraid of uther and he’s trying to get arthur to be afraid of uther too before it’s too late and LSDKFJGHSLDFJH

if you’re thinking “thats a lot to interpret from one look” yes it is but i’m right. IT’S A BIG, HEAVY LOOK. NICE AND LOADED. love unpacking all of that

i cant believe this dude tried to KILL GWEN like he really is coming after everything that makes arthur happy. im so glad it was merlin that saved her. i really do think merlin is her best friend

multiple times in this serious arthur fidgets when he’s nervous or thinking, usually with his hands near his mouth. i am endeared to him. my poor boy

“i always knew my father could be cruel but why would he do this to gwen when he knows i love her” BECAUSE HE’S CRUEL

merlin knows. merlin knows his cruelty much better than arthur. boy does he know. i’m dying. it’s fine

love that at this part of the ep we slide seamlessly into the “merlin and arthur are both scared shitless” section which was truly one of my favorite things about the s4 opener. they’re both so fucking jumpy and giving each other shit about being frightened and continuing to be frightened anyway. the DELICIOUS IRONY of arthur finally being scared of uther in the way merlin has been scared of uther for Y E A R S oh my god it’s so GOOD

do also love the entire silent conversation they have when deciding what to do about the door. this is what i mean by their upgraded vibe.l in the early seasons merlin wouldn’t have understood and his lack of understanding would have been played for laughs. now they’re totally in sync

here’s the thing, gaius could have made this magic “able to see uther’s ghost” potion for just arthur and he didn’t. he made it for both of them. everything arthur does merlin does. they’re partners in all things. they’re COMPANIONS. and this is why i finally now Ship It. tragic.

you know this is a kind of weird comparison but late seasons arthur reminds me JUST a bit of gwaine. he complains so much less that he sort of has that same “roll with whatever” vibe to him. pretend to faint so you can steal some guy’s dagger? why not. take this foul potion that may kill us? sure, let’s do it. come what may he’s not really fussed. much more unflappable

until he starts getting spooked again LMFAO 

we do love a good pair of spooked dumbasses. this is charming and entertaining.

leon HAD to know they were lying about poetry. he probably thought they were having.......a tryst,

love also that even in this very dire moment merlin does NOT miss the chance to have some fun at arthur’s expense. that’s true friendship

i got jumpscared three separate times during this ep and one of them was when uther was glaring down merlin and arthur in the hallway after leon left

arthur didn’t jump but he did go hunting after him and to his credit he does not look scared. he looks like a man who is trying to deal with his business and get his shit together

merlin made that FACE again when arthur expressed sadness at hunting his own father because all he ever wanted to DO was make him proud

honestly it’s like since he can’t shit-talk uther he just sings arthur’s praises instead like this here is a guy who is just barely holding his tongue about how fuckin pissed he is. i cant believe it

splitting up was the WORST idea. have they not seen scooby doo??

love that when merlin gets cornered by uther’s ghost and gets scared he yells for arthur and when arthur gets scared because his torch blows out he yells for merlin. you fools, why did you SPLIT UP

uther locks arthur in the room with him, which is already some top tier content, but doubly good? it’s the same room in which arthur nearly ran him through in 2.08. don’t think i didn’t notice. i did notice. i was shrieking into my hands.

seriously this is a pretty calm liveblog but the first time i watched this ep my face was like this the whole time: O O

just kept going “HOLY FUCK HOLY FUCK OH MY GOD” over and over. it was greeat

“arthur your fatal flaw is that you put too much trust in other people” do you think arthur, who now has a complex about people betraying him, ever forgot that for one second in his entire life afterward? me neither

speaking of 2.08 arthur dropped some FACTS “your hatred comes from fear” i'm sure they didn’t do it on purpose but #throwbacks

i’m fully experiencing human emotion. “i’m not you, i can’t rule like you did” he’s trying SO HARD to fight his way out of that bullshit

also lmao arthur like “then you’ll have to kill me” and uther like “yeah okay” arthur didn’t KNOW how this man was this could have been SUCH a good awakening

AND NOW IT’S TIME

FOR MY FAVORITE PART OF THIS EPISODE

when i say merlin hates uther. WHEN I SAY MERLIN H A T E S UTHER

HIS LINE HERE. ok. “get away from him, uther. you’ve caused enough harm” he’s furious! he’s GROWLING! 

“you are just a serving boy” “i am much more than that” listen. human words cannot express the emotion that ran through me. when they said “we’re gonna bring back anthony head as uther” i doubted. when they said “he’s gonna be the bad guy and reopen all of arthur’s old wounds” i doubted. when they said “he’s still here LITERALLY haunting arthur who now has to HUNT HIM” I DOUBTED. i didn’t believe they’d do any of it until it was happening on my screen. but ONE LOOK at merlins face made a MOTHERFUCKING BELIEVER out of me. i knew exactly what he was about to do. pretty sure i gasped “NO” in astonishment

AND HE DID THAT

HE👏

DID👏

THAT👏

NOT ONLY. DID I SHRIEK ALOUD. FULL SCREAM. WHEN IT HAPPENED THE FIRST TIME. BUT JUST NOW. WHEN I WATCHED HIM DO IT AGAIN. MORE SCREAMING.

how LONG do you think merlin had ACHED to do that

to show himself to uther for what he was, what he REALLY WAS, someone to be reckoned with instead of someone to be overlookedd, without fear of consequences

i can’t even like

like just imagine the triple rush of 1. satisfaction 2. rage 3. lingering habitual terror

i think at this moment merlin was closer to and more like morgana than he had ever been and maybe ever will be again. because the two of them have so much in common but one thing i didn’t really clock until now is how much they both hate uther

it’s so good. uther is SHOCKED and DISMAYED and this is like merlin’s old fear come back from death too (getting found out by uther) while at the same time being a dream come true (getting to tell uther what he really thinks, who he really is - “i was BORN with it!”) he’s so ANGRY! he is LIVID!)

he’s also really SATISFIED like “even while you were king there was magic at the heart of camelot” GOD how long has he been WAITING for this and not even realized it

and like then uther starts spewing his hateful bullshit and stalking forward with the intent to kill and my guy merlin who should be terrified STANDS HIS MOTHERFUCKING GROUND and says right over him “you’re wrong, you’re wrong” for thirty beautiful seconds merlin really got to be free. i know i will keep comparing things to 2.08 until i die but it’s just like when arthur was almost ready to kill uther in cold blood because for one perfect, brilliant moment he really and truly saw clearly the world as it was. i really love these moments...the strength of their respective convictions is so gratifying

merlin yeeting uther through a door is also gratifying although i have no idea what he hoped to accomplish by following without waking arthur first

i. LOVE. that the camera lingered a little on the spears or whatever after merlin walked by them. nice little foreshadowing moment

THOSE SPEARS GOT AWFULLY CLOSE BUT IM PRETTY SURE UTHER MISSED ON PURPOSE BECAUSE HE WANTED TO TAKE HIS TIME. HIS MISTAKE

okay merlin spent the better part of a lifetime dreading uther’s death sentence and here’s uther stalking down a hallway sword pointed at his chest and certain death is IMMINENT and what does merlin’s face look like?

arthur comes in with the rescue and INSTANTLY his expression changes to?

IT’S BETTER IN MOTION BUT HE LOOKS READY TO CRY

my immediate thought: oh jesus what if uther outs him

i knew he wouldnt bc of spoilers but i would bet a benjamin that that was merlin’s first thought too

tbh. i wish he had.

i kind of wonder if merlin doesn’t wish the same thing. like yes being outed like that is terribly violating and he’s terrified of telling arthur obviously or he would have already but at the same time there would be so much relief once it was finally out. no more secret-keeping. no more burden

i mean, if you go back and watch it, dude’s straight up shaking. he’s trembling all over. he’s losing it. that last teary glance they exchanged.......

uther was two SYLLABLES away from blowing the whole thing

and in a better happier canon where arthur knows and was waiting for merlin to tell him this is like double angst because uther wouldve ben blowing something for them both

i like arthurs followup of realizing that he’ll never be able to please uther (step 1 of breaking away from the cycle of abuse) but for the LIFE OF ME

i will NEVER be able to understand why they segued into this GLOVE THING

i’m not talking about the glove thing

i will say however that by the end of this episode i was so hysterical i had to get up and get water and pace around my kitchen for ten minutes fanning my own face

and that’s it. that’s the second-best episode of merlin and the last good episode there ever was

[everlastingcaptainswan]

Loyalty Comes At a Price (1/4)

Enchanted Forest No Curse AU 

Summary: The King and Queen are dead and the kingdom has fallen to the Evil Queen. Emma and her brother, Leo barely made it out alive and now Emma has to turn to mercenaries to regain her throne and quickly learns everything has a price.  

Note: Hi guys sorry I haven't posted anything in a while, but real life got in the way. I just graduated nursing school, so hopefully I'll have some time again to write. My inspiration has come to a halt on my other stories, but hopefully this one will spark that inspiration. This was supposed to be a one shot, but I kinda just ran with it. Please let me know what you guys think. I hope you like it! 

FF    Ao3 

Chapter One: The King and Queen Are Dead

They had feared this day would come, the day the Evil Queen would break free from the curse Snow and David had put on her all those years ago. The kingdom had enjoyed twenty-four years of blissful peace. Emma had assumed that her parents had put precautions in place for the Evil Queen breaking free. As it turns out they didn't, why they didn't Emma will never know. Her parents paid for that mistake with their lives.

Emma bursts into their chambers with a blood covered sword in hand to find Lancelot kneeling next to her father and mother, both of them dead. Emma can see a gaping hole in her mother's chest right over where her heart should be. Emma has the suspicion that the Evil Queen crushed her heart. Lancelot turns to her, tears in his eyes.

"We need to get you and Leo out of here," he told her. Emma tears her eyes away from her parents’ bodies.

"What?" Emma asks confused.

"I already sent Grumpy to get your brother. The Evil Queen has us surrounded the castle and has taken over the throne room. She will not hesitate to kill you as well. We'll be lucky to make it out alive," Lancelot says and Emma just stares blankly at him, in shock. He sighs in frustration and grabs her mother's traveling cloak throwing it over Emma's shoulders. He grabs her by the arm and drags her out of her parent's chambers. Emma eyes stay on her parent's bodies for as long as possible. They're dead. They're gone. Emma is still trying to wrap her head around it.

Lancelot leads her down an old servant corridor and down a staircase they no longer use anymore. So far, they hadn't spotted any of the Black Knights. However, they hear clamoring of footsteps coming from the bottom of the staircase.

Without a word of warning Lancelot punches in a brick in the staircase wall, which opens revealing a hidden passageway Emma didn't know about it. The fact seems impossible since she thought she had looked over every possible map of the castle. Once inside the corridor Lancelot pushes the door shut behind them.

"There that should keep us safe for a while. Are you prepared to use your sword?" Lance asks her to pull her down the corridor.

Emma finds her voice again, "Yes, I had to kill three Black Knights who came into my chambers."

"Good, you might have to do that again. Remember what your father and I taught you," Lance nods, leading the way down the dusty corridor which lead to another hidden staircase. The ground was disgusting, covered in mud and what can only be assumed to be rat droppings and Emma really wished she had put on more sturdy shoes besides her slippers. Lance kept up their grueling pace, barely giving Emma a chance to catch her breath.

When she mentions this fact Lance snaps at her, "You can breathe when we get you out of the reach of the Evil Queen." Emma doesn't say anything to this, knowing he's right. When they finally get to the bottom of the staircase they almost have to swim out. They nearby river seems to have flooded the exit to the corridor, probably the reason it's not used anymore. When they make it out a good portion of the council is waiting for them, along with Leo. Emma moves toward him relief flooding through her. Lance stops her and places her on top of a horse.

"You can reunite when you're safe. I'm going to save anyone I can. Red is taking you to a hideout. Listen to her, she knows the plan," Lance says to her without another word. The small group of them take off. Red's cloak over Emma. Red is in her wolf form leading them away from the castle. A few times the wolf looks back at her. Emma glowers back at her. This plan had been in place for many years now. Her parents knew this was a possibility and made a plan for this. No one had ever bothered to tell Emma, or it seems her brother, who looked just as confused as she did. He pulls his horse up to hers.

"What the fuck is going on? Grumpy pulled me from my bed, barely let me put on boots. No one will tell me anything," he pleads with her. Her heart breaks, they left her to tell her brother their parents had been murdered. When she notices he has no cloak and is shivering, she throws Red's cloak over his shoulders.

"Leo, they're dead," she says simply, not sure she can get out much more without throwing up.

"Who?" he says, his eyes searching her face.

"Mom and Dad. The Evil Queen killed them," she manages to choke out.

"No, Emma. That can't be true," he voice raises. Red growls at them in warning, Leo looks shocked by his aunt's action.

"Leo, it's true I saw their bodies. She's right, if we want to make it out you need to be quiet," Emma says harshly, lowering her voice.

"How can you say that?" he snaps, keeping his voice low. Emma rolls her eyes, while she loved her brother, he was always more idealistic than she was.

"They had this plan in place to keep us alive, it would be a shame to let their hard work go to waste," Emma hisses back. Leo just scowls at her. He can scowl all he wants; she wants to keep them alive they're all the kingdom has now. With the Evil Queen on the throne they'll have to fight hard to regain it from her.

The group trudge deeper and deeper into the forest surrounding the castle. After traveling all night with dawn on the horizon they come through the forest to only be faced with the beautiful mountains that serve as the border between Misthaven and Camelot. They pause at the ravine at the base of the mountain to collect some water before beginning their ascent. Red is still in wolf form and Emma leads her horse to the ravine.

"Where the hell are we going? It's certainly not Camelot, Mom could never trust King Arthur as far as she could throw him," Emma muses, looking to her aunt for answers. The wolf just releases what Emma can assume is a chuckle. Grumpy comes up to them.

"From here we'll be on foot. I'd leave the horse here if I were you sister. The trial is too narrow," Grumpy tells her. Emma's jaw drops and she looks down at her slipper clad feet.

"How far?" she asks bewildered.

"A couple miles, where we are going is well hidden in the mountain side," he tells her before running off. Well that certainly confirmed her theory of them not going to Camelot, but it left her with more questions. Emma grabs the supplies off her horse and wraps the cloak around her tightly. The wind was picking up and she was only wearing a nightgown beneath it. She looked out on the group and Red trotted next to her. There weren't many of them, they would need more than this to regain the throne. There were four of the seven dwarfs, Red, Leo and herself. Emma prays Lancelot comes back with more reinforcements. Red nudges Emma's shin with her head, signaling they should move out.

Emma rallies the small group and they trudge up the mountain side. Each step killing Emma's feet, though she tries to not let it show. Eventually she gets used to it. It doesn't take them more than a couple hours to reach a large plateau hidden from the mountain face by a grove of large pine trees. Behind this grove lies a cabin. Well perhaps a cabin is an understatement. There are estate houses smaller than this. The house isn't more than one level to remain hidden behind the trees Emma suspects, but the house looks to be large enough to accommodate their group comfortably. The weather is taking a turn for the worse, so they all hurry inside with their few supplies. The door firmly shuts behind them and Grumpy locks the several bolts on the door. There is a small room with a kitchen, another with a dining room, a formal sitting room, and what look to be many rooms beyond that. They all stand in the sitting room.

Leo drapes Red's cloak over her, a minute later she transforms back into herself. At her full height she turns to face Emma.

"I'm sure you have many questions," she starts, but before she can continue Emma cuts her off.

"You're fucking right I have questions. What the fuck was this plan? How come Leo and I didn't know about it? What is this place? How long has everyone been planning for this?" Emma practically shouts at Red her rage finally boiling over.

"Oh, so we can yell now?" Leo asks annoyed and Emma shuts him up with a look.

"You two have every right to be mad. I was only told about the plan after the fact. You know, I was never that active on the council. All I know is this plan was put in place when your mother became pregnant with you, Emma and was revised when Leo was conceived," Red tells them calmly.

"This has been in place our whole lives and none of you thought to tell us!?" Emma yells.

"Yes, it has. Your parents decided to keep it from you. That was their choice. Look Lance was there when the plan was made. You should save your questions for him. He should be here in a few days," Ruby says pointedly, signaling the end of the conversation.

"What do we do now?" Leo asks, looking around the room.

"Prepare to fight to take back what is rightfully ours and kill the bitch on our parent's throne," Emma says with venom in her voice.

"Long live Queen Emma!" Leo shouts and the rest join in, their chants filling the house and Emma stands there in shock.

True to Red's word three days after their arrival Lancelot arrives with Granny and a few knights, including August, her childhood friend. She immediately pulls him into her arms.

"I'm so glad you made it," she tells him pulling back to see his face.

"I am too, but Papa didn't," August says with a shake of his head. Geppetto was the master woodworker in the castle and was close with her family. He was always kind and sweet to the children in the castle.

"Oh August, I'm so sorry," she tells him.

"Me too. Emma, your parents were well loved. I'll do anything to avenge them," he promises her.

"We might have to do just that," she says solemnly. She notices Lance coming their way and she leaves August to meet Lance halfway.

"Is this all we have?" Emma asks gesturing at the people filling the kitchen.

"I am afraid so. Our army wasn't large to begin with especially during peacetime, but the Evil Queen killed most of them first so there wouldn't be anyone to sound the alarm, she lit their barracks ablaze. Those who I couldn't save are now in the dungeons if not dead already," Lancelot explains.

"Why the hell was this even able to happen? How did she break free? I thought she would die before the curse broke," Emma hisses at Lance.

"I have no clue how she broke free of that. It should've stayed in place until she died," he shakes his head.

"Now, how come my parents didn't tell us about this plan?" Emma ask and she sees Leo slide in next to her out of the corner of her eye.

"They didn't want to worry the two of you. That was the plan if anyone tried to take the castle, not just the Evil Queen. It was very unlikely, but there was always the potential this could happen. I thought they should've told you, but they didn't," he tells them, and Emma crosses her arms.

"Lance, four knights plus you and the rest of us won't be enough to take back the throne. Please, please tell me you have a plan," Emma pleads.

"I have an idea, but you won't like it," he says with a mischievous smile. Emma groans whenever he had this look on his face it meant trouble.

"What is it?" she asks, placing her hands on her hips.

"Mercenaries." He states and her jaw drops.

"Over my dead body!" She shouts at him and the kitchen falls silent. Leo just shakes his head, "Maybe you should hear him out, Emma." He shrugs when she sets her death glare on him.

"Fine, hope you like this house then because unless you can rally an army in a hurry no one will help us," Lance points out.

"They are for hire; they have no loyalty. The first chance they have to screw us over they will. Father always said they were no better than pirates," Emma fires back at Lance.

"You have to incentivize them is all. Some men that means honor and glory, to these men its money. Emma, as your advisor I beg you, consider this for the Kingdom," he pleads with her. Emma runs a hand through her hair.

"We'll talk more about this in the morning," Emma says before storming out to her room. Leo runs out after her. Lance turns to Red.

"How is she doing with all of this?" Lance asks her.

"About as well as can be expected," Red shrugs, standing next to Granny.

"That girl has been through her worst nightmare in past couple of days and you brought up something she is morally opposed to, give her a minute Lancelot," Granny snaps at the advisor. When they were all younger, he was a knight and fought the Evil Queen the last time. As they aged, he took place on the council when his last injury prevented him from being on the battlefield once more.

"Fine, but we don't have much time before Regina starts torturing villagers and soldiers in attempt to find them," Lancelot huffs, that cold truth hits everyone in the room with sickening reality. Misthaven could very well crumble under the rule of the Evil Queen.

The next morning after Emma has calmed down, they are able to talk through the situation at hand. Leo taking charge, knowing Lance may just piss her off.

"Emma, there are only thirteen of us. It would take too long to rally people from the countryside to join an army, even longer to train them. As much as all of us detest the idea we need an army fast and our allies will not leave themselves unprotected with the Evil Queen on the throne. Mercenaries are our best option," Leo says quickly. As much as Emma loathes to admit it, he's right and so is Lance.

"Fine. Since you suggested this Lance, I'm sure you have someone in mind," she suggests with a raised eyebrow.

"I do. There is a group led by a man, who is largely successful. He has helped many of the royals we know, and they like him so much that when his initial task is over, they try to hire him on permanently, but he always refuses," Lance tells her.

"Why does he refuse?" she asks curious. Lancelot smirks, knowing she's warming up to the plan.

"I don't know that you'll have to ask him yourself," Lance says with a knowing smile. Emma glares at him, crossing her arms.

"Fine, do you know where to find this man and his army?" she asks annoyed.

"Yes, last I heard he's about three days ride from here," Lance nods.

"Who needs to go with you?" she asks sharply.

"Myself, two knights, and Leo," Lance fires off. Emma blinks a few times looking from her brother to Lancelot.

"Why do you need me?" Leo asks, just as shocked.

"He needs to know we're serious contenders, but bringing Emma would be showing our hand too soon. Bringing you will pique his interest," Lance shrugs.

"Will you go?" Emma asks her brother.

"Of course, I will," Leo says, surprised she'd even feel the need to ask him.

"I'd never assume you'd go just because I order you too," she snaps, knowing what he is thinking.

"Even if I weren't your brother and I didn't want us to succeed, your Queen now. I'd have little choice in the matter. No one in this room will disobey an order you make. Don't worry about bossing people around, you're good at it," he teases her. Emma fights the urge to stick her tongue out at him.

"He's right. Well if that's settled, we should leave now," Lance says and Emma nods.

"Have a safe journey," Emma dismisses them. Lance chooses two of the knights. They all get ready for departure. Lance pulls Emma aside before they leave, however.

"Your brother will pique his interest, but he won't make a deal until he meets you. He'll know you're in charge of us all. You have to be careful what you offer him when we return," Lance says keeping his voice low.

"What can I offer him?"

"The treasury has been less full than your parents would like, but they managed to keep that secret under wraps. I would promise him and his top men gold and jewels and then whatever gold is required to pay his men," Lance tells her.

"Will that be enough? Do we even have enough for that?" she asks him, uneasy.

"It will be more than enough to entice him, and we may not, but that doesn't matter Regina will pool her resources in the treasury. Despite having little now, in the end we will have enough to pay him. Lying isn't always your strong suit work on what you'll say when we come back," Lance says with apologetic look and she blushes. Emma was never the best at lying, when she did her parents would see right through her and she got in trouble more often than not.

"I will. Don't let any harm come to Leo; I've lost enough family this week," she orders him.

"I'll protect him with my life," he tells her before leaving to gather supplies. She looks after her advisor, hoping beyond hope that it won't come to that.

Emma frankly hates standing still and the week Lance and her brother are gone she is a mess. She helps Granny in the kitchen, cleans the house and its numerous rooms, and collects firewood and kindling. Granny draws the line when she offers to hunt down their dinner.

"You're the queen and frankly Red has a better nose than you and can do it in half the time," The ancient woman tells her. Granny then proceeds to make her tea and sit down for longer than a meal. With staying still for so long she falls asleep. When someone asks if they should move her Granny glares at them.

"That girl hasn't slept all week if you move her now, she might wake up," She tells them. When Red comes back with her kill and sees Emma, she ignores Granny's threats and moves Emma to her bed. Emma doesn't wake and successfully sleeps through the night for the first time since her parents’ deaths.

Early the next morning Emma is woken by Red.

"Rise and shine, your mercenaries are almost here. Get ready then we have to trudge down the mountain to meet them," Red tells her before leaving. Emma groans, but makes her way out of bed. She pulls on a simple dress and the boots the climb will require. Emma runs a brush through her hair and clips it back. Emma has found everything she could possibly need in this house. It is surprisingly well stocked. Emma emerges from her room and walks to the kitchen. Granny, Red, and August are waiting for her.

Granny hands her a bowl of porridge, "Eat up girl." Emma accepts the bowl without compliant and eats it quickly. Once finished the trio begin their descent down the mountain side. It doesn't take them longer than an hour to get down, the descent being easier than the ascent. By the ravine Emma spots her brother, Lance, two knights, and three men she doesn't recognize sitting around a fire enjoying breakfast. As the trio approaches the group of men at the ravine stand upon her arrival.

"She doesn't look like any queen I've ever seen," one of them mumbles.

"Seen a lot of queens have you, Scarlet?" the one with sandy blonde hair asks the mumbler. All three are dressed in fighting leathers with weapons strapped to them. One man with jet black hair, stands taller than the rest and has eyes for only her. His piercing blue eyes assessing her. She holds his stare not backing down. Emma had seen her mother do the same thing countless times and her mother always got what she wanted.

"Pardon them, fine warriors they are, but no manners between them," they both protest at this, but fall silent with a single glare, "I'm Commander Killian Jones. This is Captain Robin Locksley and Will Scarlet." The one with blue eyes introduces them.

"A pleasure to meet you all. I'm Emma, this is Lady Red and Knight Booth," she nods toward the two on either side of her. Lance gives her a look and she's sure to get a lecture later. One she'll ignore.

"I've never met a queen who goes by her given name," Commander Jones comments.

"The throne in Misthaven is mine by birthright, but there has been no coronation, and another currently sits on what is mine. I cannot claim the title of queen without the ceremony," she says with all the grace she can muster. Lance makes a noise to disagree, but she silences him with a look.

"To business then what exactly do you require from my men and I?" Jones asks her. They all eagerly await her response.

"The Evil Queen killed my parents and now sits on my throne. I want her dead and my throne back," she states simply. Scarlet releases a whistle.

"That's quite a large request," the commander is surprised. Emma gives him a bemused look.

"If it's out of your depth I'll send my men to bring me someone suited to the task," she challenges him with an eyebrow raised.

"You won't find anyone better than us. A request of that size will require an equal reward," he says challenging her.

"Once the royal treasury is in hand you and your captains here can have all the jewels and gold that will fit in a small chest, one for each of you," she says hoping this will peak their greed, "and of course whatever is required to pay your men."

"You must be more desperate than we originally thought if that's your offer," Jones whistles.

"I'm merely offering you what would've been rewarded to our army if the Evil Queen hadn't killed them all," Emma says, seeing how easily scared off they are. To see if they're ready for this.

Commander Jones smirks, "We'll need a moment to deliberate."

"Of course, but just one last question, Commander. Lancelot said here many of your clients have tried to hire you on after your mission was completed, but you've never accepted. Why is that?" Emma asks with her head held high.

"Let's just say we've never found a cause worthy enough of our permanent services," he states before turning away. His answer satisfies her curiosity on that score. Emma can respect a man who hasn't found a leader good enough in his eyes, no faith is better than blind faith. She doesn't quite like his smugness, but that can be tolerated. The three men take a few steps away from the rest of them, heads huddled together. Lance and Leo approach her. Emma hugs Leo.

"Oh, stop it I'm fine," he says moving out of her arms.

"Emma, you're playing a dangerous game," Lance warns her.

"Are you kidding me? She's playing them like a fiddle. She has that look mom did when she was trying to get something the council didn't want to give her. And…" Leo trails off.

"She always got what she wanted," Red finishes his sentence, "Lance, she's doing fine you old worry wort." Lance doesn't have time to look offended because the mercenaries are ready. Emma's group turns to face the three men.

"Well Commander what will it be?" Emma says with a tone like she's bored of him and his games.

"We agree to your terms," Killian holds his hand out.

"Excellent." Emma closes the few feet between them. She grabs his hand firmly, giving it a strong shake, which seems to have taken the commander by surprise. He hides the surprise with smirk before bringing her hand to his lips, brushing a kiss across the back of her

"Now, we've been in the open for far too long I'm sure there's somewhere private we can discuss strategy," Captain Locksley points out.

"Quite right. Lead the way," Jones motions to the path up the mountain. Leo and Emma walk side by side up the mountain with the group trailing behind them.

"What do you think of them?" Emma whispers to her brother.

"Well they didn't kill us on sight or take us to Regina, so could've gone worse," Leo shrugs.

"Do you trust them?" Emma asks, still uneasy about using mercenaries.

"You're asking this now? After you've agreed to work with them?" he gives her an incredulous look.

"Oh, shut up. It's fair question to ask and frankly Lance is right we don't have time to be snobs, we'll need all the help we can get," she sighs.

"Fair enough, but be cautious until proven otherwise," Leo warns her. Emma nods.

The Commander catches up with Emma, "I'm afraid I don't know what to call you," he admits.

"I told you Emma is just fine, Commander," she tells him and Leo chuckles.

"Well see you're royalty. I cannot go around calling you by your given name it wouldn't be right. My poor mother would be rolling over in her grave if she knew I wasn't addressing royalty properly," Commander Jones rambles on and Emma raises her eyebrow.

"Since I technically have my old title still, you can call me Your Highness or Princess if it bothers you so much, Commander," she says with a smirk.

"Yes, Princess," he smirks, and he has this glimmer in his eyes that tells Emma he will be nothing but trouble. He falls back in line with his men and Leo gives Emma a knowing look.

"Oh, this just got more interesting," he chuckles. Emma gives him a questioning look.

"Why do you say that?" Leo squints at her. Did she really not understand what that interaction with the Commander was? Did she not notice when a man when flirting with her? His sister could be very dense when she wanted to be.

"If you can't see it then it won't do me any good to tell you," he tells her, and Emma just shakes her head. Leo always got like this when he knew something she didn't. Frankly she has too many other things to worry about other than why her brother is being a smug ass.

It doesn't take them much longer to reach the house. Granny has muffins waiting for them claiming they must be hungry after their journey. The mercenaries look surprised by this kindness, but don't refuse Granny somehow already knowing she isn't to be denied.

They all gather around the wooden kitchen table; the mercenaries gather at one end and Emma takes head of the table. Lancelot leans in to whisper to Emma, "we need to talk after." Emma nods acknowledging him.

"Do you have maps of the castle? We need to get a layout of what kind of fight this will be," Jones starts them off. Lancelot turns to Granny who is already retrieving several scrolls of parchment from the kitchen pantry. Jones looks to Emma blinking in surprise. Emma just shrugs, not entirely surprised that the maps have been entrusted to Granny, no one would dare cross her. Leo looks to the old woman in surprise.

"Lancelot was saving men in the castle that night and I had to retrieve some key items to make sure the Evil Queen never got them," Granny says laying the scrolls on the table.

"Are these all the maps of the castle? Widow Lucas, I could kiss you right now," Killian says in awe. Emma swears she can see a slight blush in Granny's cheeks.

"Yes, boy. I didn't leave any map behind," Granny says returning to the kitchen to mind something in a pot on the stove. The group unrolls the scrolls and tells the mercenaries about each map. They work throughout day discussing strategy, weapons, and potential battle situations. The group rarely breaks for more than the occasional cup of tea. With the sun disappearing beneath the horizon Granny finally stops them when she announces dinner will be ready soon and the table better be cleared for it. With the smell of stew in the air the men spring into action clearing the table quickly leaving Emma and Red to set the table. The group eats quickly and quietly. After their long day many of them are sleepy and Leo actually falls asleep at the table. Emma stands placing her hand on Leo's shoulder shaking him gently. He jolts awake rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"It's time to call it a night. We've made good progress today, but I think we'll all be better with fresh, well rested eyes in the morning," Emma tells the room. Those who are awake enough nod their heads in agreement. Granny approaches Emma.

"I'm afraid we only have two beds for the mercenaries," Granny says quietly.

"Oh okay. We'll figure something out. Give me a minute," Emma tells her, searching for Commander Jones. Him and his men are huddled in a corner talking amongst themselves. When Emma approaches, they stop talking immediately.

"I'm afraid there are only two open beds for you and your captains," Emma tells them apologetically.

"No matter, we will make do. Won't be the first time Scarlet here has slept on floor." Jones chuckles at Scarlet's protests.

"You won't want to hear him complain in the morning; do you have some spare blankets for him?" Captain Locksley asks.

"Granny knows more about this house than I do I'm afraid. I'm sure she can wrestle up something for Captain Scarlet here," she smiles before running off to find Granny.

"Killian, this could still be a terrible idea," Locksley mutters to Jones.

"Oh, come now Robin, we have certainly taken worse jobs with this. The last one there was an actual sea monster," Jones reassures him. Emma walks back with Granny catching the end of his sentence.

"No creatures of the deep here, but that's not to say we might not have our own creatures running about," Emma tells them with a faint smile and Granny glares at her before turning to the mercenaries.

"Which one of you needs blankets?" she asks gruffly. Will raises his hand she leads him down the hallway in search of some bedding for him. Not long after Emma sees Lance searching for her and she wants to avoid another lecture from him, so she bids goodnight to the mercenaries and vanishes to her room before Lance can catch her.

The next morning Lancelot is waiting for Emma outside her room. She sighs upon seeing him.

"Hoping I'd forget?" Lancelot asks her with a knowing smile.

"No, I knew that would be impossible. I was hoping you'd wait until after I'd ate at least," she scoffs, and he just shakes his head.

"You should be addressed as Queen or Your Majesty, not Princess or Your Highness. You are the rightful sovereign of Misthaven you cannot be addressed as Princess. You are the Queen and you need to start acting like it," Lance lectures her.

"When we have the throne and a crown is placed upon my head, I'll be queen until then you need to cut it with the bullshit. If I was truly queen, we would not be in this situation. By order of succession and my royal blood, yes, I should on the throne, but I'm not," she says getting angrier and angrier with each word.

"Do you feel better?" Lance asks her with a raised eyebrow and Emma shakes her head, "We're going to spar you need to work this out, go change." Emma nods and turns back into her room. A few minutes later Emma emerges in black leather pants, a white tunic and a blue vest with her sword strapped to her waist. Lance is waiting for her in the small grassy area in front of the house. Emma ties her hair back.

"Are you ready?" he asks sword in hand. Emma smiles before unsheathing her own sword, "Now, I am," she says with that competitive gleam in her eye. They charge at each other and the clang of their swords filling the small enclosure. Fighting they fall into a familiar dance. Lance and her father taught her how to defend herself and wield a sword. At first it was to prepare Emma for a potential attack, but then they found out she actually liked sword fighting and moved on to more advanced techniques. Since then she has had at minimum weekly sparring sessions with either Lance or father. With the raising morning sun, they both work up a sweat their moves becoming more aggressive.

"Feeling better, now?" Lance asks her, as they take a step back, assessing each other trying to determine each other's next move.

"No. If my parents wanted a babysitter, they wouldn't have picked you," she snaps, moving forward their swords clashing once again.

"You need guidance more than you can imagine," he snaps back, both of them breathing hard; faces inches from each other.

"Guidance would be fine. You're supposed to be my advisor not my father," she says managing to maneuver his sword out of his hand and onto the grassy ground. Emma can see the hurt look in his eyes, but he was out of line this morning and he needs to know it. She has a lot of important decisions to make and she cannot be worried about whether or not her advisor is coddling her and worrying about trivial things such as titles in war time.

The front door bursts open revealing a shocked Commander Jones, "what the bloody hell is going on here?" Scarlet's head peeking out behind him from the doorway. The commander in his black tight, fighting leathers. Emma can't help, but to run her eyes over him and his evident physique underneath all that leather.

Emma turns to face him with a smile and triumph in her face, "Come now Commander, you've never seen a woman fight?"

"Certainly not a queen, who can disarm a former knight," he says with a cocky grin, moving closer to them. Lancelot clears his throat and Emma glares at him.

"Lancelot, if you truly believe I'm a queen without a throne then you should follow my orders when I tell you to drop the issue," she practically snarls at him. Lance nods and silently picks up his sword.

"Whatever battle plan are made, Commander. I insist on being included," Emma tells him.

"I have to assess the skills of anyone who intends on being part of my army," he says, his eyes not so subtly racking down her body.

"By all means pick up a sword, Commander," she challenges him and Killian shrugs. Lancelot shakes his head, backing up in order to give them some space.

"Oh, I was hoping you'd say that," he comments before unsheathing his sword. They move slowly in circle, clearly both assessing each other and their movements. Moving closer and closer until Killian makes the first move, Emma deflecting him with a simple flick of her wrist then makes a move of her own. It takes a little effort on Killian's part to ward off her advances. He had definitely underestimated her, and she smirks.

"You're going to have to try hard than that," she scoffs, and he frowns. The clash of their swords begin to fill the grove and a small crowd gathers to watch.

"Looks like we have an audience," Killian says with a jerk of his head and she just smiles.

"They're in for a treat then soon they'll see me defeat you," she teases the competitive edge in her voice

"Oh, is that true, Your Majesty?" he asks before advancing once again. She frowns at what he calls her, but wards off his advances once again.

A bead of sweat trickles down the side of his face. Liam always warned him against not judging a book by their cover and he was right. Even though she was royalty she could fight better than some, if not most of his men. But he had finally spied his opening, her footwork was getting a little sloppy under this unrelenting sun, sweat glistening on her forehead.

He surges ahead quicker than he had in a while causing her to trip over her own feet falling backward, some in the crowd gasping. Emma holds her own against him even flat on her back.

"You know there are much more enjoyable things I prefer to do with a woman on her back," Killian winks at her, keeping his voice low so the crowd doesn't hear him. He's able to flick the sword out of her hand. Killian stands over her, one leg on either side of her.

"I'm sure you do Commander," she purrs, eyeing the sword now pointed at her chest before making eye contact with him.

"Do you surrender?" he asks triumphant. There is a malicious tint in her eyes that he certainly doesn't like.

"Never," she snarls before bringing her legs up forcefully. Killian groans before falling to the ground. Emma snatches his sword that he dropped on his fall and points it at him.

"Surrender?" she asks sweetly.

"Oh, you fight dirty. That was bad form, Your Majesty," he groans, his eyes squeezed shut.

"Commander, I was taught to do whatever it takes to survive, not good form," she smirks.

"Aye, I surrender and anyone who has bested me gets to call me Killian," he says making eye contact with him. Emma stabs his sword into the grass near his head.

"Alright, Killian. You have to call me Emma then," she orders, hands on hips. He props himself on his elbows.

"Not a chance. There have been a lot of changes for your life that may be difficult I'll grant you that and accepting your parents have gone is a terrible burden, but you have the grace and command of a Queen. Title or not, crown or not, so it will be Your Majesty," Emma rolls her eyes at this, "I'll include you in the battle plans it'd be a waste not to use you."

"What a waste indeed," she nods then walks off, leaving Killian on the ground. There are a few claps from the crowd, and she smiles at this, shaking her head. Will gives her a hearty clap on the back, commenting that it had been a while since their commander has been knocked on his ass. Leo catches her gaze and shakes his head.

"What?" she asks when she approaches him.

"Oh nothing, just watching this unfold," he smirks, and she squints at him. Leo just retreats into the house before she can ask another question. Lance finds her, "Even the mercenary agrees with me." Emma is uneasy with the fact that he could see through her so easily, could see that she was avoiding the title because it meant her parents were gone. They barely knew each other, but he could tell all of that.

"Fine, you win," she grumbles before moving into the house. Granny is waiting with refreshments and food for them. Red and Leo share a look when Killian returns Emma's sword to her and she mutters a quick thank you. She glares at them, but before she can say anything, they return to planning their attack on the castle.

"We have a few questions to start," Killian says once they have all settled. Emma nods signaling for him to continue, "Do you know how Regina will have organized her forces?" Killian asks and Emma turns to Lance.

"It was utter chaos at first, but as we were slipping out, she was organizing men on every entrance she knew about. I have no idea about guard changes or just how many men she has," Lance shrugs, wishing they knew more. Killian looks to Will, who knowing what he has to do.

"Captain Scarlet will be leaving today then. He knows many people that can help us get more information on her forces," Killian tells them.

"Your Majesty, you said you want her off the throne. How do you want to do that, imprisonment or perhaps…" Robin trails off, leaving the implication hanging in the air. Emma feels all the eyes in the room on her.

"I'll make this exceptionally clear; I want the Evil Queen dead. I wouldn't mind killing her myself. I'm not that picky though anyone can do it," she says calmly. The room is so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Leo's first to speak, "Emma, you can't mean that."

"Of course, I do! Leo, the whole reason we are in this mess is because our mother and father couldn't kill her the first time around. I won't let her threaten this family anymore," Emma snaps. Leo was sweet, caring, but above all idealistic. Just like their mother. God he even looked like her with his dark, almost black hair. His softer disposition and charm always came from her. He got their father's eyes and jawline, however.

"Mother and Father would've never done this. They wouldn't want you to do even entertain this thought. We should imprison her again," Leo says shocked.

"It's exactly why they're dead. They cursed her instead of killing her. She terrorized them for years. You didn't see their bodies; you didn't see the gaping hole in our mother's chest because that bitch ripped her heart out. I won't go through all of this just to be afraid she might attack again. I won't live with that kind of fear," she says the anger rolling off her in waves. Leo looks like he was slapped in the face. He clenches his jaw and Emma can tell he's trying not to cry. He's young, too young to have to deal with this. He's only nineteen years of age.

"They wouldn't want you to be murderer," he says in almost a whisper.

"It's too late for that. Three black knights entered my chambers that night and I killed each of them. If they didn't want me to be that than they should've done something about her," Emma says cool rage in voice. She loved her parents and as much as she wanted to mourn them, right now she couldn't. She was angry, so angry that they left her in this situation. Leo opens his mouth to say something else, but then shuts it again. Without saying another word, he storms out of the house. Red head snaps to Emma.

"That was a low blow and you know it. He loved your mother," she says sharply.

"And I didn't? He needed to hear that, and you know it. I won't make the same mistakes they did," she says just as harshly. Red shakes her head before running out after Leo. The door shuts and the room falls quiet again. Granny just places a hand on her shoulder and gives it a squeeze.

"Anyone else have a problem with it?" Emma asks looking around the table.

"We have no qualms about killing her. You're paying for our services after all, you should get what you want," Killian says, understanding in his eyes like he knows her. It's unnerving given the short time they've known each other.

"Good, any more questions?" she asks.

"Oh, many more, Your Majesty. Get comfortable we'll be here for a while," Killian tells her. They sit at that table for hours. Will is sent away around midday to get more information. He makes his goodbyes quick. Leo and Red rejoin them after a while. Both of them still angry with Emma. She can deal with their anger.

After dinner that night Leo runs off to his room without a word to anyone, Emma sighs. She should talk to him, to explain herself better. They don't have time for internal conflict. They need to be a united front, but that is problem that will have to wait for tomorrow.

Emma walks out into the grove for some fresh air and to escape all the people in the house. No moon in the sky tonight she walks over to the edge of the mountain cliff, looking out over the kingdom. Small spots of light could be seen far away, and she hoped Regina hasn't truly hurt her people yet.

A twig snaps and her head swivels around, her hand on her sword strapped to her waist to spot none other than Killian who is a holding a flask. She takes her hand off when she realizes who it is.

"I mean no harm I just figured you'd want a drink after today," he says holding out the flask. She smiles, gladly taking it from him.

"I do, you just startled me," she says before taking a swig from the flask. She recognized the liquor as rum as it burned her throat on the way down. They both look over the view and Emma takes another swig before handing the flask back to him. He takes a hearty gulp.

"Regretting taking this job yet?" she asks him.

"No, not at all. In fact, the more I learn the more intrigued I become. There are a lot of factors at play here," he tells her.

"Even though I injured you today," a blush raising in her cheeks.

"Well as unpleasant as that was, I realized you are quite willing and able to fight for your people even if that means fighting dirty. Most royalty pays me to do their dirty work, you're different," he shrugs.

"I've never been one to delegate efficiently. I enjoy the hard work, unlike most royals I'm not content letting people do my work," she says standing straighter.

"You'll make a great queen for that fact alone," he tells her, looking into her jade green eyes. Emma shakes her head.

"Maybe so. Although the people will have to accept a murderer on the throne," she sighs.

"Ah well. You won't be the first or the last. Many have killed their way toward the throne by killing their own family, you haven't done that. Most importantly you were defending yourself. Your brother may have moral objections to our plan, but it's the smartest plan for your family's future. He'll come around," Killian tells her.

"Do you often give such sage advice to all your clients, Commander?" Emma asks before taking a swig from the flask once again.

"No, just the beautiful queens," he smirks, "I thought I told you to call me Killian." He takes another swig from the flask as well.

"Well you won't call me Emma, so really it's only fair," she says holding her head high and he chuckles.

"It would be improper to, you're the queen," he mutters, and Emma can see a slight blush in his cheeks.

"How about I make you a deal? You call me Emma in private and Your Majesty or whatever in front of the others and I will do the same," she offers, hopefully.

"Only if you tell me why this is important to you," he says, looking directly into her eyes.

"It's just that we were always informal in court, much to Lancelot's dismay and the title makes me feel more important than I am, which is ridiculous. Everyone is important in some way or another," she shakes her head.

"Ah I see. You're wrong, you rule your people you do have more value than they do because you will make the hard decisions. It's not a bad thing," he shrugs. The commander has surprised Emma again. It's certainly not what she wants to hear, but the truth. Far more than most royals hear.

"Thank you for your honesty. So, you take the deal?" she asks.

"Certainly not, Your Majesty," a look of shock crosses her face, "I told you about my poor mother rolling in her grave if I would address you improperly. I can't have that now," he smirks, and she rolls her eyes.

"I guess not, Commander," she says with a mischievous smile on her face, one Killian is sure will get him in trouble. There is a moment where she swears, he leans in slightly and he might just kiss her. Emma wouldn't stop him if he did. He's a handsome, strong man who has a set of values despite his less than reputable line of work. Something stops him from kissing her however Killian bids her goodnight before heading inside. Emma spends a few more minutes looking at the view and what might have been before heading inside as well.

The next morning Emma looks for Leo before their strategy meeting. Emma needs to apologize to him. What she said last night was harsh and as his sister she should apologize. She finds him outside with a bow and a sheath of arrows aiming at one of the trees.

"Leo," she greets him, and he ignores her, "I deserve that after yesterday, but just listen." Leo knocks another arrow on his bow and continues practicing.

"I shouldn't have said any of that last night. It was wrong of me and I am sorry," she exhales. Leo fires his arrow and it finds its spot in the middle of the tree across the grove. He turns to look at her, hurt in his eyes.

"It was all true and you're not going to change your plans," he states.

"No, I'm not, but I shouldn't have said it like that. I won't make the same mistakes as our parents. I'm sure I'll make brand new mistakes, but not this one. I won't have it be the reason for my death or leave my future children in this situation," she says calmly.

"They wouldn't like it," he shakes his head.

"No, they wouldn't, but they also aren't here. I understand this is hard for you, but I need you with me," she says, and Leo looks bewildered.

"Emma, I'm your brother, I am always with you. I just think there is a better way to do this. I forgive you by the way, none of this is easy for anyone us," he tells her before dropping the bow and bringing her into a hug.

"I'm so damn angry," she mutters, and he rubs her back.

"I know you are," he tells her. They pull apart and Leo gives her that particular look she hates more than anything else, his all-knowing look.

"Okay what? You need to spit it out," she sighs.

"Was that future children comment in reference with a certain dashing, charming commander?" Leo asks with a teasing look.

"What? No, why would you say that?" Emma says, blinking several times in confusion.

"Oh please. Emma, you cannot be that blind. You have to see the way he looks at you," Leo says exacerbated.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she brushes off the comment. It's a lie, however. Last night in the grove she thought that they were going to kiss, but they didn't. It was the rum; she blames it on the rum.

"Sure, you don't," Leo says, knowing better than to push his sister on this issue.

Later on, they gather at the dining room table to strategize for most of the day and into the night.

"There are many legends and myths of her powers, do you know the true extent of them?" Killian asks the candlelit table.

"There are many, many things she can do," Red tackles the question, "She can summon fireballs and throw them at you. She can be in one place then transport herself in a purple cloud to another. She is a master of spells, a varied range of them really, but she is famous for the sleeping curse that she used on Snow. She is dangerous and lethal." The room fell silent during her explanation.

"What about her fighting abilities? Will she fight on the battlefield?" Robin asks her.

"She relies solely on her magic, but her fireballs could prove to be an issue if she comes to the battlefield, but that's highly unlikely," Red tells them.

"What makes you say that?" Lance asks her, curious.

"She's not as strong as she used to be, so I don't think she'll be where the fighting is the worst," Red shrugs, before making eye contact with Emma, who is frowning at her. With that look Emma understands all too well how Red knows this.

"How?" Killian asks looking from Red to Emma, understanding there is nonverbal communication going on between the two women.

"You haven't told them?" Red asks, looking at Lance and Emma then Leo, who shrugs.

"That is your story to tell," Emma states. Killian and Robin are waiting for a response.

"I could tell them," Red says with a wolfish grin and Emma laughs.

"Yeah, but you like showing off," Emma grins back at her.

"Ladies, we're waiting," Killian says, slightly strained. Red grins, moving into the kitchen more and nods to Leo, who stands and removes Red's cloak. Red transforms and stands in the kitchen as a wolf with Granny shaking her head, mumbling about how her kitchen was not the place for that. Robin's jaw is on the floor and Killian looks to Emma.

"Didn't think you should have mentioned this before, Your Majesty?" Killian asks her and she smirks.

"As I said before, not my story to tell," she shrugs. Red nods again and Leo covers her with the cloak once more. Red becomes a woman once again the group looks away while she adjusts her clothes.

"As I was saying, she isn't as strong as she once was at the height of her power. With my unusual abilities I can smell things the human nose cannot. Everyone has their own scent and when someone has magic there is a particular smell to it. I don't think she has as much magic as she used to. She smelled different during the night of the siege. That curse must have weakened her," Red explains.

"I trust your nose, Lady Red. I think this will be enough information to actually start moving," Killian says looking to Robin who nods.

"What do you mean, Commander?" Emma asks, unsure.

"I'm saying as soon as tomorrow we can be marching our way back to my forces," Killian says with a smile. Emma nods, but becomes solemn quickly after realizing she could lose some of the people in this room and that thought alone makes her uneasy.

"Then I believe we can adjourn for the night," she commands, and everyone nods before going to their rooms for the night. Emma and Killian walk side by side to their rooms.

"What were you thinking before we adjourned?" Killian asks her. Emma stops walking to look at him and he stops as well.

"That many of us will die and I don't know if I can handle losing anyone else," she says quietly. His gaze feels like something she's never felt before, like he's peeking into her soul.

"That may happen, and it may not. I would be prepared for the worst," he tells her softly. She nods and he walks her to her door before bidding her goodnight. Killian takes her hand in his and brings it to his lips. After dropping her hand, he nods and walks away. It takes Emma a minute or two to gather her thoughts before going into her room. Commander Jones is testing her resolve in more ways than one.