#him holding the memory of both Morgana AND Arthur as good people and have him struggle with it could have been so much more compelling!!!!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bitsandbobsofwriting · 3 years ago

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Soulmate AU Part 4 (final part):

Uther continues to be very OOC and Merlin is presented to the Kingdom; luckily enough, everyone already loves him. The Future starts to come together...

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

The summer passed in much the same way the previous year had; awkwardly polite conversation between Merlin and Uther, Leon panicking at everything, Gwen being exasperated, Morgana and Merlin pissing about, and Arthur watching it all with exponentially growing fondness.

Eventually, it was Yuletide again. Yuletide meant Arthur’s 18th birthday. Arthur’s 18th birthday meant revealing Merlin to the Kingdom; announcing him as The Crown Prince’s Soulmate.

There was an odd mix of feelings surrounding the upcoming event. Both Arthur and Merlin were ecstatic at the idea of not having to hide and sneak around anymore, but Merlin was a foreign peasant boy. The common people would love him, Nobles and Foreign dignitaries? Not so much. Granted, Arthur had a powerfully intimidating presence, when he chose to display it, Morgana could glare anyone into submission, and even Leon was known to be passive aggressively threatening when it concerned Merlin’s safety and respect, but not all could be daunted into compliance. Merlin would surely face discrimination.

That, and the growing spotlight meant that it would become much harder to keep his magic a secret. With Uther’s insistence that Merlin be... part of the family, they’d already had a few close calls.

Thankfully, not much else had changed, or it had changed for the better. Arthur and Merlin still scared everyone else shitless when they popped up to each other, but Morgana’s visions seemed a lot less terrifying now. Leon still had heart palpitations when Merlin and The King were in the same room, but Gwen, Gaius, and Hunith relaxed more; the Physician especially could see the pride glowing in Uther’s eyes, and the awkward fondness he held for Merlin (even if that wouldn't protect him if Uther discovered his magic).

Nevertheless, no ones’ fears or aspirations stopped the passage of time (though Merlin, in his increasing power, had put it on his “List of Things to Try Before I Die”), and Arthur’s crowning ceremony crept closer, day by day.

Hunith, Merlin, Leon, Gwen, and Gaius were gifted front row seats to the event, and as annoyed as Uther was at having the front row taking by commoners, a servant, and a young knight, he didn’t dare argue; he’d learnt that it was pointless now. Morgana was stood behind Uther’s throne at her own seat, giving Arthur a rare smile, not a hint of teasing in her expression, and Arthur returned it easily, comforted by the dream she told him she had the previous night (of adoring crowds and a grinning Merlin) despite his nerves.

The ceremony of course went of without a hitch, a rare smile on Uther’s face, and tears on all the faces of Arthur’s front row.

After an uproarious round of applause and chants of “Long Live The King, Long Live The Prince!”, the room cleared, leaving only Uther, Arthur, Morgana, Merlin, and a few faceless guards.

(Gaius, Hunith, Gwen, and Leon rushed off, wanting to be at the front of the crowds in the courtyard when Arthur and Merlin were presented to the Kingdom.)

Merlin didn’t hesitate in rushing up the steps to Arthur, wrapping his soulmate in a tight hug and whispering his pride into his blushing ear. For once, Morgana didn’t roll her eyes at the display of affection; Arthur may have occasional spurts of arrogance, and the two of them still acted like immature children occasionally, but she loved them both dearly. Uther did roll his eyes, though he could not hide his fondness from Morgana, who raised (yet another) teasing eyebrow at him. He glared at her half-heartedly before clearing his throat, and the boys jumped apart with a start.

He wordlessly nodded towards the door of the Throne Room, and walked out regally, his steps fast and heavy and his cloak billowing behind him. Merlin and Arthur followed quickly, hand in hand, and Morgana walked closely behind them, the guards bringing up the rear. The group finally made it to the large double doors that opened out onto the balcony above the courtyard, though it was two corridors previously that they began to hear the cheering and festivities below.

Arthur could feel Merlin’s hand shaking in his own, and squeezes it comfortingly, giving him a reassuringly soft smile as he murmurs, so Uther can’t hear them:

“Don’t worry, it’ll only be a few minutes, then we’ll come back in. You’ll be introduced to nobles and such during the feast,-”

When Merlin begins to look even more distressed, Arthur rolls his eyes good-naturedly and continues before his Warlock can interrupt him:

“-yes, I know, we’ll have to mingle, but this evening, it’s just us and the others. We’ll take some food and wine back to yours, and we can have some fun and all fall asleep in front of the fire together. Alright?”

Merlin takes a deep breath and nods, but before he can say anything, Uther stops his conversation with one of the guards and abruptly turns around, his face tersely concerned.

He takes one look at the boys before tutting and stepping towards them. Arthur freezes in shock as Uther begins to run a gloved hand through his hair, neatening it out and flattening it properly under the newly placed crown before stepping back again with a satisfied nod of the head. Arthur’s wide eyes stare straight ahead, and Morgana (having snuck in front of them to watch the whole ordeal) has to stop herself from snorting at his face. If she thought that was funny... well.

Next, Uther’s eyes move to Merlin, where he gives an even more disapproving tut and steps forward once more. He removes one of his gloves quickly, wetting his thumb with his tongue before wiping it just a little too harshly along Merlin’s nose, muttering-

“How the hell are you always so Godamn grubby?”

-to himself. Morgana doesn’t manage to hold in her giggles at that, clamping a hand over her mouth as she dedicates this whole scene to memory forever. Arthur is staring at his father with not even an attempt to hide his bafflement, but at this point, Uther is too busy brushing invisible lint off of Merlin’s shoulders to notice the incredulous stares from the three teenagers (and all the guards).

He finally steps back, huffing out a sigh, and muttering-

“That will have to do, I suppose.”

-before turning back to the doors and gesturing to the guards. Morgana, and Arthur have only a moment to regain their composure before they are ushered out on the balcony; Merlin staying back as he had been informed to do that morning, though he can hear the cheers get impossibly louder as the three royals greet their people.

Arthur glances back, just quickly, giving him one last smile before facing his people and standing in support of his father’s kingly speech:

“My people! Today, on this year’s Winter Solstice, my son has come of age!-”

The crowds had quietened significantly when Uther began, but another cheer went up at his words, and he paused, holding a silencing hand up:

“-I now present him to you, as Crown Prince Arthur Pendragon, heir to the throne of Camelot, my successor!”

His hand moves to gesture at Arthur, and the Prince steps forward as The King steps back, a wide smile on the blonde's face as his people cheer for him. He waves back, eyes searching the crowd for Hunith, Gaius, Gwen, and Leon; they meet gazes just as Uther steps forward once more, holding his hand up again:

“There is other news! It is...-”

He looks to Arthur, settling a hand on his shoulder and giving him a small smile. His voice quietens a little, but it can still be heard by the crowd:

“-it is with great pride, that I announce-”

The moment ended as quickly as it had started as Uther turns back to the crowds below, raising his voice again:

“-that my son has found his soulmate!!-”

Arthur had been expecting loud cheers, but their audience grows quiet and still at the announcement, as if frozen in suspense. As he peers over the stone barrier, he can see almost everyone in the crowd pairing off slightly, pulling their soulmates closer as they wait with baited breath to see their Prince’s partner.

Inside, Merlin takes a deep breath, but relaxes slightly when he sees Arthur unclench his own nervous fist, holding it behind him in preparation, invitation, for Merlin to take it in just a few moments:

“-I present to you, a close family friend of the royals,-”

(Morgana scoffs and rolls her eyes, but thankfully no one is paying her any attention.)

“-a skilled physician in training, and a trusted citizen of this Great Kingdom,-”

He gestures towards the door behind him, and Merlin takes his first shaky step forward, coming into line with Arthur as Uther finishes:

“Merlin, of Ealdor!”

Arthur and Merlin walk to the front of the balcony, hand in hand, as the loudest cheers Merlin has ever heard explode from the crowd. Despite the thunderous noise, Merlin can still pick out the cheers of his mother, uncle, friend, and older brother, and the leisurely applause from Morgana behind him, and he smiles in spite of his nerves. Arthur squeezes his hand once more, and they raise their joined fists to the crowds as they grin, struggling to hold in their laughter at the sheer amount of joy on the faces of everyone (bar Uther, of course, he just looked marginally happy) present.

Merlin has become even more recognised around the kingdom; normally seen trailing Gaius (who is also well-known, and well-loved) or, as inappropriate as it might be (at least according to Uther’s council), hanging around with Morgana and Gwen during the day. The castle’s servants and the majority of the knights had guessed that Merlin was the soulmate of either Prince Arthur or the Lady Morgana, what with how often he was with them and the way King Uther was apparently ok with that, and gossip spread like wildfire. But the loud cheers just drive home how well-loved Merlin is, and he tears up in response.

Merlin and Arthur finally step away from the edge of the balcony, and Uther continues his address of the people, though it passes by in a bit of a blur for Merlin, and he tunes out fairly quickly. He’s vaguely aware of Arthur running a soft thumb over his knuckles, and Morgana stepping towards him to clutch the edge of his tunic (loud crowds had never been her thing), but the speech and the cheering are drowned out by his racing thoughts.

Uther’s speech finally came to an end and the crowd dissipated. The King rushed off immediately, after sending what could almost be described as a respectfully fond nod in Merlin’s direction, but Morgana, Arthur, and Merlin luckily had nothing pressing to attend to before the feast, and had around an hour of time to waste (read: relax).

Despite Leon escorting the three of them to Merlin and Hunith’s home dressed in full armour, sword strapped to his hip, the journey took twice as long as it normally did, with various nobles and citizens alike wanting to stop them in the street and congratulate them. Arthur and Merlin were endlessly polite and extremely grateful for the support of their (now shared) people, but Leon’s forceful insistence that they “have somewhere important to be, My Lords, My Lady” went quietly thanked.

Hunith, Gaius, and Gwen met them at the house, and a round of tight hugs was shared; all staring fondly when Hunith wouldn’t let Merlin go for love nor money, whispering tearful exclamations of pride in his ear.

The hour felt like it passed in mere minutes, but it was enough time at least for Merlin to relax a little. Morgana and Gwen helped Hunith get ready, and Merlin definitely did NOT tear up when she came out of her room dressed like royalty, a string of Morgana’s pearls around her neck. Arthur and Morgana had deliberately stored a spare set of clothes here so they didn’t have to go back to the castle to change, and the Prince just about managed to force Merlin into a new jacket and cloak (”Why?!” “Because you have to, it’s protocol, you have to be dressed differently.” “That’s fucking stu-” “Merlin, I love you, but shut up and get changed.” “...Prat.” ) .

The seating arrangements weren’t too terrible. As per normal, Uther sat at the head of the table, with Arthur around the corner on the King’s right and Morgana to his left. Merlin sat in between Arthur and his mother; Leon was, unfortunately, on guard duty, though thankfully he was being assigned to Prince Duty (training, hunts, patrols, bodyguard, etc) more and more, meaning he was stood at the wall behind the two boys.

Thankfully, the only stranger anywhere near Merlin was a respected Camelot noble seated opposite him, and he seemed far more interested in boasting about his son to the King in the hopes of winning him a knighthood than he was in Merlin, and payed barely any attention to him other than the occasional distasteful glare (they did not go unnoticed by Arthur, and simply guaranteed that his prick of a son wasn’t going to end up anywhere near a sword).

So all in all, the feast wasn’t too bad. Merlin’s stomach was turning a little, but Arthur’s hand on his thigh under the table and his mother’s shoulder occasionally brushing against his own calmed him right down, though he still kept well away from any alcohol or too-rich foods, worried about making a fool of himself or turning his stomach even more.

The Gang also had Gwen serving them. Morgana had given up on her pleas to have her join them at the table fairly quickly; she could argue with Uther endlessly on many things, but she knew she was never going to win this one. At Guinevere’s insistence that today wasn’t about her, and Morgana shouldn’t ruin Uther’s tenuous good mood on Arthur’s birthday AND coronation AND soulmate-reveal-day, she gave in. But Merlin appreciated the feeling of friendly eyes, both Leon’s and Gwen’s, on his back for the course of the feast.

Just like during the celebrations of Arthur’s knighting ceremony, the tables were cleared from the room to make way for music and dancing, though this time Arthur and Merlin didn’t have to hide their partnership.

Merlin’s stomach turned more at the mingling he was forced to do, answering awkward questions about the purity of his blood and where he came from and his education and his understanding of social etiquette, almost all of which were phrased in condescending and/or downright spiteful ways. But the way Arthur’s arm, looped through his, tensed, and the scowl the Prince sported when Merlin couldn’t bring himself to, partnered with Leon’s comforting shadow (and even Uther’s, when the question’s strayed into cruelty) made him feel at least justified in his discomfort.

Morgana, at the quiet request of Merlin, spent the entire night by Hunith’s side, shielding her from the malicious glaring of nobles who felt cheated by her accidental winning of a position in the royal family. She was granted at least a little respect due to her being a relation of Gaius, who was highly respected and close to the King, but that was about as far as her favour went, and she was eternally grateful for Morgana’s steadfast presence and silent-but-deadly brand of defence.

The night passed slowly, but not so unpleasantly that Merlin was too desperate for it to end, though that changed rather jarringly when he found himself without Arthur for the first time. The Prince and Merlin had been stood next to each other, though involved in different conversations; thankfully for Merlin, he had been having a rather lovely chat about country-life with the wife of a knight. It was when she was pulled away by her husband to converse with another that Merlin realised that Arthur had also been pulled away by whoever it was he had been talking to.

Merlin tensed when he couldn’t immediately spot his soulmate through the crowd, but took a calming breath when he did spot Leon stood dutifully against the opposite wall, Guinevere next to him. That was fine, it wasn’t Arthur, but it was better than nothing, and he allowed his anxiety to swirl in his lungs for only a moment before he began his soft-stepped journey across the hall.

He caught Leon’s eye, thankfully, and the knight frowned slightly at the empty space next to him before sending a reassuring smile his way, nodding in encouragement and understanding.

Alas, he only made it halfway when he was stopped by a rather harsh hand on his shoulder.

He turns around, barely swallowing a gasp and a flinch, only to come face to face with the noble he had been sat opposite during the feast. The hand was uncomfortably tight on his shoulder, and Merlin wanted more than anything to push it away, but instead he forced a smile on his face and bowed his head respectfully, hoping beyond hope that Arthur would make a reappearance or Leon would see his discomfort and be able to come up with an excuse to abandon his post:

“Lord Otto, a pleasure to see you again.”

The drunken Lord let out a huff of sarcastic laughter, pressing his thumb even more severely into Merlin’s collarbone:

“Hmm, a pleasure indeed. Tell me boy, how is it that you, a peasant, think yourself worthy of such a magnificent soulmate?”

Merlin’s eyes widen in shock. No one had been so obviously disdainful, but the over-indulgence in alcohol, the Lord’s privileged seat at the table, and Merlin's lack of any sort of protector had evidently given him a boost in confidence. Merlin stuttered for a few moments, not quite sure what to say, before quietly coming out with:

“Well... I... don’t really know, I-”

He’s interrupted by a far softer hand on his other shoulder, but is even more shocked when, instead of Leon or Arthur, he found The King stood by his side, flicking an incredibly scornful gaze between Lord Otto’s hand and face. It does nothing to dissuade the Lord, and Merlin can’t disguise his wince this time when the hand once again tightens it’s grip.

Merlin had hoped he’d been subtle, but the clenching of Uther’s jaw tells him he had not been; before he can worry about what social rule he had broken and how Uther was going to punish him for it, The King finally settled his glare on Otto’s face:

“I must insist that you remove your hand from my boy’s person, and refrain from making such improper inquiries.”

His cold tone almost sends a shiver down Merlin’s spine, but the confusion of having Uther being in defence of him (a Warlock) stops the reaction before it even starts. The Lord glances up at the crown sitting strongly on Uther’s head, seemingly reminding himself of his company, before dropping his hand from Merlin’s shoulder as if he’d been burned.

He bows his head shallowly, making himself look as subservient as his pride could manage, and Uther gives him a barely restrained look of disgust when he looks up again, interrupting any quivering apologies he might have made:

“It’s getting rather late, and you’ve indulged enough for one night, do you not think? I suggest you end your evening here, Lord Otto.”

All three knew that it was not a suggestion, and Otto bows once more before muttering a humiliated, red-faced “Right you are, Your Majesty” and waddling out of the hall, towards the guest chambers.

Merlin let out a breath, his face just a little flushed as Uther spares him a quick, concerned glance before pushing him gently towards an on-going conversation between Arthur and a group of knights on the other side of the band. Merlin lets out a relieved breath when he sees his partner, but quickly frowns in concern when he then sees the tense line of Arthur’s shoulders and the way his eyes were darting around the room. He’s obviously paying only the shallowest of attention to the conversation at hand; but then they meet gazes, and the tension drains out of him as he sends a relieved smile Merlin’s way.

Arthur politely excuses himself from the conversation, using the blinding smile that only made an appearance when he was manipulating courtiers and nobles, before making his way through the crowd towards Merlin, evidently trying to disguise his desperation. Merlin was absent-mindedly aware of Uther keeping pace with him, the supportive hand on his shoulder-blade not leaving even when Merlin sped up slightly.

(If Merlin had been thinking about anything other than just being at Arthur’s side again, he would’ve found the odd mix of disgust and gratitude for Uther’s presence very confusing.)

They finally reach each other and Arthur grabs Merlin’s hand gently, pulling him to his side and landing a soft kiss to his cheek. Uther finally removes his hand from Merlin’s back, and it’s the absence of touch that reminds Merlin of The King’s presence. He turns quickly, hand safely in Arthur’s grip, to give Uther a flushed, timid smile:

“I... uh... thank you, My Lord.”

Uther gives him a tight smile, though you’d have to be blind to miss the slight fondness in his expression as he shakes his head:

“Hmm, I’ve been looking for an excuse to get Otto out of here for at least an hour, the man is intolerable, his incessant rambling about his unremarkable son even more so.”

Merlin nodded awkwardly and tightened his hold on Arthur’s hand, but before either boy can say anything, Uther lets out a deep breath, relaxing his shoulders and settling hesitant hands on one of their shoulders each:

“I... am proud of you both, and I wish you all the happiness in the world. One day, this Kingdom shall be yours, and it will be golden under your rule.”

Merlin almost manages to forget the whole... unforgivable genocide thing, and gives The King a weak, though grateful smile, running his thumb over Arthur’s knuckles when he feels the blonde shake slightly. Arthur tears up at Uther’s words, but thankfully manages to keep his voice steady as he quietly replies:

“Thank you, father, we will do everything in our power to live up to your legacy.”

(An utter lie, considering they plan on undoing pretty much everything he’s known for the moment they come into power, but Uther doesn’t need to know that, and the sentiment remains.)

Uther gives Arthur one last gentle smile, before lowering his hands and straightening his posture, going from awkwardly doting father to detached mighty King within a second. He nods at each of them before turning and walking regally away, his cloak billowing behind him and his golden crown shining atop his head.

Arthur tilts his head in question and tugs Merlin’s hand slightly when he sees the small frown on the younger’s face:

“Merls? What did Otto do? He didn't hurt you, did he?!”

Merlin looked up at him in shock before blinking away the surprise and chuckling:

“Ah, no, nothing like that, just asked how a peasant ended up with such a magnificent soulmate.-”

Arthur looked like he wasn’t sure whether to be flattered or offended on Merlin’s behalf, so he settled for an odd mix of the two:

“-That didn’t bother me though, it was... Uther called me his boy.”

Arthur dropped his chin slightly in shock:

“He what?”

Merlin shrugged:

“He said “I must insist that you remove your hand from my boy”. It was very... disconcerting, and oddly endearing considering what he’d do if he knew what I was.”

He whispered the last part quietly, and Arthur raised his eyebrows in surprise before chuckling quietly:

“Wow, never thought I’d see the day. My father being protective of a commoner and telling me how proud he is all in one evening, perhaps the world is ending.”

Merlin snorts, rolling his eyes and softly responding:

“Hmm. He may be a bit of a prat, but he does love you, and he has his moments.”

Arthur narrows his eyes at Merlin good-naturedly, a smirk dangerously close to breaking out on his face:

“You know Merlin, you may be right, but you’re still the only person I allow to say it aloud without sanction.”

Merlin just smirks and raises an eyebrow; Arthur laughs, and the world feels right.

It was late by the time Arthur and Merlin finally decided to call it quits. Morgana, Gaius, and Hunith had left around an hour ago, Gwen following them the moment her shift ended. Technically, someone had come to take over from Leon about halfway through the night, but he stuck around, patrolling the shadows of the room with one eye on Merlin always.

(The boys had insisted that he should go home and relax, but were quietly grateful when he stayed.)

They had been wanting to leave for hours, and normally they could easily get away with such an absence, but this particular celebration was in their honour, it wouldn't do to leave too early, so they finally made their way out of the hall when the crowds had halved and it was approaching midnight.

Uther gave them one last pat on the back when they said goodbye, and the tension practically melted off them when they stepped foot outside, despite the freezing temperatures of winter in the dead of night.

Leon stepped out just a moment after them, and the three of them make quick work of the journey to the house, not wanting to dally in the frigid air and just a little desperate to find themselves in the comforting presence on the family they had built.

They arrive just in time to find Hunith pouring out mugs of hot chocolate (a luxury that Merlin and Hunith never had in Ealdor), and Gwen adding another log to the fire. The next round of hugs was quicker than the last; everyone was tired and eager to settle down, to push the insensitive questions to the back of their minds and revel in the positive feeling of things moving forward.

Arthur had removed his cloak immediately upon entry, folding it precisely and leaving it on the table in the hall, his golden circlet following shortly after, cushioned by the soft fabric, but Merlin excused himself to their bedroom, changing into comfier clothes and washing his face. He had been looking forward to leaving all night, but now that he was home, he found all he wanted to do was collapse in bed and sleep, Arthur securely in his arms.

A knock at the door broke him out of his slow moving thoughts, and he frowned slightly, Arthur wouldn’t knock:

“Come in.”

It was Leon that opened the door, having rid himself of his sword and most of his armour (a pain in the arse, considering he’ll have to wake up early to put it all on again, but oh well), and he stepped into the room, quietly shutting the door again behind him. Merlin sent him a tired smile, but Leon saw through it and raised an eyebrow:

“You alright, Birdy? Anyone in particular you’d like me to embarrass during training or council meetings?”

Merlin laughed and shook his head:

“No, that definitely won’t endear me to people. Honestly, it was a lot better than I was expecting, and having Arthur scowling at people and Uther defending me was rather entertaining in the end.”

Leon snorted, muttering a quietly amused “yeah, I bet” before stepping forward and enveloping Merlin in a tight hug, one hand on his back, one in his hair, holding him close. Merlin melted into the embrace, clutching the back of Leon’s tunic tightly as the older man swayed on his feet slightly, murmuring:

“I’m proud of you, little brother. You handled everything just fine, the kingdom loves you; you’re doing great.”

Merlin lets out a deep breath and steps back, though was grateful to feel Leon’s hands still on his shoulders as he replies:

“Thank you. Honestly, I’m just exhausted, I don’t know how I’m going to deal with this for the rest of my life, and I... I don’t want to disappoint Arthur.”

Leon rolled his eyes good-naturedly and ruffled Merlin’s hair:

“You could never. He loves you more than anything in this world, Birdy, you’re made for each other, after all. He would abandon all of this in a heartbeat if he thought it would make you happy.”

Merlin frowns slightly, clenching his jaw:

“Yeah, I know, that’s what worries me. We’re meant to... bring about a golden age or whatever, and we can’t do that if we leave, but I’m not sure I’m going to be any good at the... politics, or the court manipulation or anything that comes with... with running a Kingdom. I know it’s a long way off but...-”

Leon nods in understanding and squeezes Merlin’s shoulder softly:

“You’ve got plenty of time to learn. And hey, if you want to stay away from the politics? Fine, Arthur and Morgana have plenty of expertise in that area. You’re a physician, Merls, not a courtier, and the kingdom already loves you, not because you’re a good politician or anything like that, but because you’re a good person, and you’re worth loving. Just keep being yourself and you’ll be absolutely fine. And besides, you’ll always have us lot to fall back on when you’re unsure; you’ll never be alone, little brother, I’ll make sure of it.”

Merlin nods and sniffles slightly at Leon’s words, giving him another tight hug. They step back into the hall, and Leon gives Merlin’s hand a gentle squeeze:

“Ready? I can tell them you headed to bed, if you just want some sleep?”

Merlin smiles and shakes his head, pulling Leon to the living room, where everyone is undoubtedly crowded around the fire surrounded by blankets and pillows.

From that day forth, Merlin’s life becomes a lot more... official.

He was officially given sword-fighting lessons by a few of the older knights, though thanks to the lessons Leon, Arthur, and Morgana had given him already, he held his own pretty well, and they were more than impressed with the skill level of someone they had assumed was a complete beginner.

He was officially invited to the occasional council meeting (at least the boring, everyday ones). He was always a silent spectator, his participation discouraged, though his presence expected; Arthur always made a point to ask his opinions afterwards though.

His new duties and lessons, on top of his pre-existing duties as the Physician’s Apprentice, AND having to keep his magic hidden and his reputation intact, was all somewhat overwhelming for Merlin, but the steadfast support of Arthur and Morgana when it concerns politics, and Gaius talking Uther down when The King wants Merlin to be more involved in court life, definitely help him in everyday life. Gwen’s hugs and Leon’s hair ruffling are certainly God-sends as well.

The oddest thing was the way people addressed Merlin now. He wasn’t even of age yet, but people were calling him Lord, and servants bowed at him in the corridor. There wasn’t much he could do about the nobles without making some incredible social faux pas, but he always flushed at the servants and insisted they stop bowing and just call him Merlin, at least when no one else is around.

Thankfully, both visitors to the Kingdom and local nobles tone down the snootiness, especially when Uther publicly shows Merlin respect and rumours (correct rumours) spread of Arthur and Morgana’s protectiveness.

Merlin’s birthday was celebrated minimally, though there was, once again, a mix of feelings upon the realisation that he was now only one year away from being of age, and things would surely get even more intense when that happened. But they all tried to push it from their minds, at least for the time being.

As winter broke and the sun came up on what was undoubtedly a Spring day, Merlin felt the most refreshed he had in a long time, though his mood dropped instantly when he, Arthur, and Morgana were summoned to Uther’s private study... only to be given another mini, awkward “I’m proud of you” speech, and given a week off.

Of course, Arthur was still somewhat expected to keep up with his training at least a little, but really, there was nothing forcing him to.

They exited the study flushed with pride and excitement at the prospect of doing whatever the hell they wanted for a week, and met Gwen in the hall. She was worrying her lip between her teeth when they saw her, but she instantly relaxed and raised a questioning eyebrow when she saw the grins on their faces, and Morgana explained what had happened.

It was that evening, whilst relaxing in Arthur’s chambers, that Merlin heard the dreaded echo of “Emrys...” in his head.

He groaned, dropping his head in his hands, out of both frustration and the pain of another’s voice unexpectedly materializing on the inside of one’s skull.

It was just Arthur and Merlin in the room, and the Prince immediately moved from his own chair to kneel in front of his soulmate, running his hands up and down Merlin’s arms as he shakily asks:

“Merls? What’s wrong?”

Merlin just looks up at him blearily, one hand taking Arthur’s and the other rubbing his temple:

“Fucking... scaly arsehole.”

Arthur tenses and frowns as he answers:

“I thought he had given up months ago? Why is he calling you now?”

Merlin shrugs, slumping back in his seat:

“Who knows, he didn’t say, he just-”

“It’s important, bring your little... friends, if it makes you feel any better.”

“-never mind. He just said it’s important, and I can bring my “little friends” if I want.-”

He snorted in dry amusement before continuing:

“-as if I would’ve listened if he told me to go alone anyway. I really thought that me thinking “Fuck Off” as loud as I could helped him get the hint. Apparently not.”

Arthur rolled his eyes before looking to Merlin in concern:

“Well... do you want to go? Or do you want to just hope he goes away again?”

Merlin sighs, but before he can answer, the voice echoes once again:

“I will not go away this time, young Warlock. This is important, and I have very little else to entertain myself with, other than being an annoyance to you. Come.”

He huffs in frustration, standing abruptly and taking Arthur’s hand, dragging him to where their swords are kept as he grumbles:

“He’s not going away this time. Let’s fetch Leon and head down.”

Arthur dutifully follows, strapping his sword to his hip and locking the chamber doors behind them, not speaking until they were approaching Leon’s door:

“No Morgana or Gwen?”

Merlin halts, clenching his hands tightly as he thinks for a moment:

“Hmm. No, I don’t want to freak them out. We can tell them what happens later, but I don’t want Morgana to have to face him again.”

Arthur nods, and knocks quietly on Leon’s door. He opens quickly, and Arthur and Merlin are thankful that they didn’t wake him, though quickly notice his panic when he sees their grave faces and swords.

The explanation is quick, and within a few minutes the trio are making a stealthy journey down to the Dragon’s Lair. There are no dramatic appearances this time, the great lizard is already perched regally on the edge of the platform, waiting for them.

He tilts his head when he sees their tense forms at the gate:

“I’m grateful that you did not bring the Witch.”

Arthur and Leon look to Merlin in confusion as he bristles, tightening his grip on the sword at his hip as he speaks:

“Yeah, well, I didn’t fancy you trying to kill my best friend again. What do you want?”

The dragon does what the trio guesses is the closest to an eye roll and dramatic sigh that his great form can manage, before lowering his head and speaking in English:

“If you won’t listen to me, I suggest you use your new found, though temporary freedom to meet with the Druids. They have all relevant information on the prophecies, you can learn of your destinies from them. The closest camp is a day’s ride from the Eastern border of Camelot.”

Merlin raises an eyebrow, but Arthur beats him to it:

“And how would you know that? How did you know we had time off?”

The dragon tilts his head and huffs out a dry laugh, the hot air making the trio sweat under their thick cloaks (it may have been Spring, but it was still cold) :

“I know a great many things, young King.”

Merlin and Arthur can practically feel the way Leon tenses, even from a few paces away. The man, ever the knight, was obviously incredibly uncomfortable with the idea that this dragon knew the goings on of the world, could listen in on conversations, all while being chained in the basement. Before either knight can say anything, Merlin tilts his head, a challenging look on his face as he regards the dragon:

“You... you keep saying destiny, but destiny is pre-written, the whole point is that it’s going to happen no matter what anyone involved does, no matter the interference. So why are you so desperate to have us know it, and work towards it? Us knowing or not knowing won’t alter things either way, unless it’s all a pile of shit and you’re manipulating us.”

Arthur smirks at Merlin’s quick mind and Leon looks impressed, the two of them turning their own challenging gazes on the rather thoughtful looking reptile. He mutters something along the lines of “you weren’t so bloody clever last time,” before lowering himself even closer to the ground, closer to Merlin:

“If I were manipulating you, then I wouldn’t send you to a third party known for being pacifist and unbiased, would I? Destiny isn’t completely certain, it is simply one of many likelihoods, the most... benefitting likelihood, is the destiny of you and your soulmate.”

Merlin scowls:

“Benefitting for who? Something tells me that one day you’re going to ask us for something, and we’ll be powerless to say no, thanks to all this... help you’re giving us, and it’ll be a mistake. So, benefitting who?”

The dragon shifts his jaw in such a way that resembles a smirk, speaking once again in the rasping language that Leon and Arthur don’t understand:

“Do you not want magic, yourself, your people, to be free, Emrys?”

He raises himself to his full height, stalking towards the ledge and stretching his leathery wings out. The trio manage to hold their ground in his dauntingly large presence, but their hands do tighten around their weapons:

“Go to the Druids, tell them Kilgharrah sent you.”

With that, he tips himself over the edge, falling for a second before snapping his wings out once again and shooting upwards towards the shadow-bathed ceiling, thick chain clanging loudly with the sudden movement.

Merlin huffs and turns to ascend the steps without another word, grumbling to himself about “stupid fucking dragons” and “my one week off and I have to deal with this shit” . Leon and Arthur look to each other with a shrug and a mix of genuine concern and mild amusement on their faces, before hurriedly following Merlin back through the castle.

Thankfully, it took almost no effort for Arthur and Morgana to get Uther to allow them to leave the Kingdom on their little vacation. It being under the guise of “visiting Ealdor” meant that it was perfectly within the realm of reasonable requests to have Leon tag along as “protection” as well. Guinevere was coming because they of course would need a servant whilst they were out and about (though Uther was definitely beginning to suspect that something more was at play between Morgana and the serving girl).

Unfortunately, Hunith was unable to get the week off work at such short notice (mother of the Prince’s soulmate or not), and there was no way they’d be able to justify asking The King for Gaius to tag along, so they didn’t even try. But they set out the next afternoon, having filled Gwen and Morgana in on Kilgharrah’s rather vague and annoying directions.

Neither of them were particularly happy that they had gone to see the Dragon without them or that they were just... doing what he said, but destiny or no, consulting the Druids on Morgana’s visions and Merlin’s magic was still a good idea, and they’d never get a better chance.

Just like Kilgharrah said, they found the Druid camp two days into their journey from the city, almost a day’s ride beyond Camelot’s border. They had to be careful, wear disguises, but they were travelling through virtually untouched wood so they didn’t run into anyone, not even a pesky group of bandits made an appearance.

When the first tents came into sight through the trees, the group stopped to take a breath and prepare themselves, giving each other one last round of dubious looks before beginning to walk again.

They barely make it to their third step when Merlin pauses and takes a stuttering breath, clenching his fingers around Arthur’s sleeve in a white-knuckled grip. The others crowd around him worriedly, but relax (only slightly) when he looks more confused than anything else. Before they can ask what’s wrong, he peers between them towards the tents:

“Uh... how are you- are you Druid? Is this one of you?”

Arthur’s eyes widen as he realises:

“Someone’s in your head again?”

Merlin nods distractedly but doesn’t move his gaze, speaking louder:

“Hello??”

Finally, a middle-aged man steps out from the camp; he wears floor length, dark green robes, and his silver hair almost falls to his shoulders. He gives the group a kind smile before finally focusing in on Arthur and Merlin, bowing his head slightly:

“My Lords. Our seers saw you coming some days ago, and we felt your presence the moment you entered our wood, Emrys.”

Merlin clenches his jaw slightly:

“Please don’t call me that, my name is Merlin... and... Kilgharrah sent us?”

He says it as if it’s a question and the Druid gives Merlin an assessing gaze, before nodding slightly. Before he can verbally respond, Leon steps subtly in front of the others. Morgana rolls her eyes at his protectiveness and Arthur huffs, but before they can challenge him, he asks:

“What do you mean, you felt his presence?”

He tilts his head again and smiles slightly, as though amused:

“Em- Merlin is rather powerful; we can sense him from miles away, his magic is incredibly... distinctive.”

Merlin frowns, holding Arthur’s hand protectively in his own as he side-steps Leon:

“What does that even mean? I’m not that powerful.”

The man shakes his head slightly and gestures behind him:

“Come. I imagine you have many questions about many things. The camp awaits your presence, My Lord.”

Merlin frowns at the title, but the Druid turns his back and begins walking back into the centre of the camp before he can challenge it. He gives a small shrug and a quiet “well, here we go” to the others before following his trail, Arthur’s hand still clutched tightly in his.

They all receive peculiar looks as they walk through the camp. Life seems to stop as everyone pauses what they’re doing to stare at the intruding teenagers (and Leon), but they keep their heads down, all letting out a relieved sigh when the man leads them to a tent, gesturing for them to sit around a table, and closing the fabric gently behind him.

He turns around with relaxed shoulders and an easy smile, not acknowledging that none of them are sat down and are instead gathered in a huddle by the table:

“My name is Iseldir. Druids don’t have strict hierarchies, but I’m considered the chieftain here, welcome.”

He looks at Merlin as he speaks, and the young Warlock nods slightly. He opens his mouth to speak, but shuts it again with furrowed brows; Iseldir raises an eyebrow and Merlin hums thoughtfully before trying again:

“I was going to introduce everyone, but something tells me that you already know who we are.”

Iseldir smiles again and nods, the expression on his face looking something similar to pride:

“Yes, I know who you all are. I see that you are learning to trust your instincts, My Lord.”

Merlin grimaces:

“It’s just Merlin, please. It’s bad enough that everyone at the castle calls me Lord now, I’m not even of age yet.”

The Chieftain’s smile widens in amusement as he nods, and Morgana is the next to speak up, her hand clutched tightly in Gwen’s as her voice shakes only slightly:

“We were sent here to learn about our... destinies?”

Iseldir nods, politely ignoring the way Merlin reaches behind him to grab Morgana’s wrist comfortingly, and how Leon and Arthur rest their hands near their swords:

“I have everything we need laid out here; it isn’t too complicated and we should get through all of it by this evening.”

The teenagers finally move to the seats, but make no effort to hide the way they shuffle the furniture to be sat closer together. Morgana and Merlin are sat in the middle, Arthur and Gwen flanking them protectively; Leon remains standing, a hand on each of his magical kid’s shoulders and a blank, though slightly challenging look on his face. Iseldir raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t comment, moving to sit on the opposite side of the table and shuffling a few papers around before looking up with a smile:

“Let us begin.”

The general mood of the room could be judged accurately by how tense Leon was at any one moment. Though he remained standing, he was relaxed and curious when Iseldir told them about the extent of Merlin’s powers (which Merlin looked incredibly dubious at), and he smiled proudly when they were told of Merlin and Arthur’s intertwined destinies (the nature of their soul-bond means he already knew they had some sort of great future, and this only proved it).

It was when Iseldir hesitated slightly as he gave Morgana a pitying look that Leon tensed up, and tightened his grip on her shoulder.

“You must all remember that destinies are... tricky. They are incredibly difficult to avoid, but it isn’t impossible; the future is not set in stone.-”

Morgana takes a deep breath and straightens her back, taking Merlin’s hand in her own and settling her face into a determined grimace:

“Just come out with it. Just tell me.”

Iseldir gives her a comforting smile as he nods, turning a sheet of incredibly ancient looking paper over and pushing it across the table towards them. On the scroll is a old, rough charcoal drawing of a woman with long, dark hair, her clothes somehow elegant and tatty at the same time. Her face is covered by a hood, but her arms are outstretched and violent looking flames extend from her hands, burning and destroying all the foliage drawn around the edge of the paper.

Morgana reaches a shaking hand out to touch the drawing but withdraws her hand before she makes contact, ignoring the tears gathering in her eyes as she looks up at Iseldir again:

“That’s me, isn’t it? Burning things?”

Iseldir nods slowly before speaking, his voice low and gentle, understanding:

“It is said that if you come into your full power, you will unite with The Once and Future King’s Bane. Your heart will freeze over, you will become consumed by hatred and fear and bitterness, and you will work tirelessly to bring about the downfall of Camelot, the downfall of Albion.-”

Arthur interrupts:

“Albion?”

Iseldir moves his gaze to the Prince, giving him a tight smile as he explains:

“The Kingdoms to be united under one name, Albion, with yourself as King.-”

He looks back to Morgana, his smiles turning just a little encouraging:

“-Like I said, the future is not set in stone. Arthur’s Bane came into existence several years ago, we’re keeping close watch on him; he has yet to show any... troubling, signs, nor have you.”

Merlin scowls slightly in though, before slowly saying:

“Arthur’s Bane is... a person?”

Iseldir raises an eyebrow and nods, letting out a breath of subtle relief when Merlin seems more genuinely worried than murderous.

Gwen is the next to speak up, her voice strong and her face determined:

“None of that is happening,-”

She reaches forward and aggressively turns the scroll over, squeezing Morgana’s hand as she continues:

“-not ever.”

Leon’s gasp has everyone’s eyes drawn to the overturned sheet, only to see a colourful image appear on the paper. The first figure to materialize is clearly Morgana, though in this drawing she is grinning, hood down, eyes golden and flowers in her hair. Next, Merlin and Gwen appear either side of her, Merlin’s eyes also glowing as he summons matching flowers in Gwen’s hair, Gwen who is pressing a kiss to Morgana’s cheek. Leon and Arthur appear next, in full armour with bright grins, a golden crown on Arthur’s head.

Iseldir chuckles, looking up at Merlin who is giving himself a satisfied nod as the golden glow fades from his eyes:

“Trusting your instincts indeed; you didn’t even need an incantation, very impressive.”

Merlin shrugs before turning to Morgana with a grin. She returns it with a shaky one of her own, once again feeling not-quite-so-scared thanks to the ever-comforting presence of her family.

They slept that night in a large tent that had been prepared for them, and were woken up early the next morning. They were given a proper tour of the camp and introduced to a few people.

Leon had questions about how the camp was run, in terms of enforcing rules and staying safe, so he was quickly introduced to a few of the elders. Whilst he had been reluctant to leave the others at first, Arthur’s teasing laughter and Morgana’s rolled eyes convinced him to spend the day away from them, learning about as much of Druid politics as he could.

Merlin and Morgana were quickly introduced to the strongest magic users, and whilst Merlin was taken aside to be given some lessons on healing using magic, Morgana was taught meditation techniques and breathing exercises by the camp’s most respected Seer.

Gwen sticks mostly with Merlin; whilst she had no magic to heal with, the herbal knowledge that was being shared was fascinating and she was eager to memorise as much of it as possible. She of course wandered over to check on Morgana occasionally, at first out of concern, but then out of pride, out of a desperation to never forget how relaxed and happy and at-home her soulmate looks.

Arthur spends the morning with Merlin, but quickly grows bored. Perhaps he should take more interest in healing considering how often he and the knights get injured, but he’s already got Merlin, Gaius, and now Gwen, so why waste the effort? Instead, he finds Morgana and the Seer. The sense of relief he feels to see his sister looking so at ease with such an easy smile gracing her face is almost overwhelming, but he doesn’t disturb them, sitting a little way away and silently watching them.

The Prince didn’t even realise he had fallen asleep until the tell-tale pop and the sudden shadow of someone stood above him jolts him from his nap. He opens his eyes blearily to see Merlin crouching next to him, an amused smile on his face and his hand out-stretched:

“Come on sleepy head, the others are waiting for us, it’s time to eat.”

Arthur takes a deep breath, allowing Merlin to pull him up before he stretches and rubs the sleep from his eyes. The sun was only an hour or so away from touching the horizon and he could see no one else in the little patch of woods Morgana had previously been sat in:

“Morgana?”

Merlin smiles softly, taking Arthur’s hand and leading him back towards the tents:

“Happy. She joined me a couple hours ago and we were practicing some simple spells, turns out she has more magic than just visions-”

At Arthur’s slightly affronted expression, Merlin chuckles and rolls his eyes:

“-You were exhausted, Arthur, don’t deny it. You got this holiday because of how hard you’ve been working, we didn’t want to wake you. We’ll show you a few tricks tomorrow alright?”

Arthur pouts and huffs slightly, fighting the smile trying to appear on his face as he nodded his agreement. Merlin just laughed at him again as they entered the meal tent, finding spaces with the other three.

The next morning was just as relaxed, though this time the five of them stayed together.

Leon, Arthur, and Gwen sat against a fallen log as they watched Merlin and Morgana show their magic off. A small audience of Druids had gathered as well, on account of Lord Emrys’ presence, and whilst Morgana tired quickly, not used to having such free access to the magic that had been inside her for years, Merlin could go for hours. He used few actual incantations, manipulating water and flowers and floating lights with just a little concentration and some imprecise waving of his hands.

Noon, unfortunately, came rather quickly, at which point Leon sighed and stood up, giving Merlin a sad smile before looking to Arthur:

“If we want to be home with a day to spare, we should start the journey soon.”

Arthur nodded in agreement and the rest of the group joins Leon in standing. The Druids disperse fairly quickly, but Iseldir stays with them, giving Merlin a pat on the back and a wide smile:

“It was a pleasure to have you here My Lor- Merlin.”

Merlin snorts in amusements but nods his appreciation, and the five of them wander over to their tent to gather their belongings whilst Iseldir collects the horses.

It’s only half a candle mark before they’re riding back out into the forest in the direction of Camelot. The teachers and elders, including Iseldir, wave them off with proud smiles, and whilst Merlin and Morgana are sad to leave this sanctuary behind, they were grateful for the freedom and safety and lessons they’d had, even if it was less than two days. Their utter faith that things would change when Arthur took the crown, that one day Camelot would feel just as safe, gave them something beautiful to look forward to as well.

Their journey home was just as uneventful as the journey out. When they finally pulled up into the courtyard with a day and a half of their free week left, Leon took everyone’s horses to the stable and informed a servant to tell the King of their arrival, whilst the others headed straight to Merlin and Hunith’s house. They had to wait for Hunith and Gaius to finish their actual jobs, but soon enough the whole group was crowded around the kitchen table.

Arthur and Gwen (who, though no one else would admit it, has the best memory of all of them) re-tell the prophecies and destinies.

Both Hunith and Gaius were furious once again at Morgana’s so-called destiny, but smiled proudly at her determined disposition, and the obviously magical drawing (the flowers seemed to move and the golden eyes definitely glowed off of the page) that Merlin pulled from his pocket. The others hadn’t even realised he’d kept it, but are grateful.

Next, Merlin and Morgana talk about their lessons. Gaius was intrigued by the healing knowledge Merlin and Gwen had gained, and after double checking that the door was locked and the curtains were drawn, they even showed off a few spells to their captive audience.

(There were times that Merlin showing off even the slightest bit of magic would give Hunith a heart attack and nightmares for days; she finds it doesn’t bother her so much anymore. She knows that Arthur, Morgana, Leon, and Gwen would never let anything happen to him, and the new stories of his apparent great power certainly helped ease her mind as well.)

Finally, Leon spoke about what he had learned from the elders; all bout how they keep camps running, their democracy, and how knowledge is preserved and passed on. It was a little boring, if any of them are being honest, but the bright grin on the knight’s face kept them from interrupting him.

Eventually, it came time for everyone to head to their respective beds and sleep. There was no denying that they’d had an amazing few days, but it was also a few days of constant activity and sleeping rough... they were all exhausted.

As Arthur and Merlin curled up under the covers, grateful for the slightly chilled night making cuddling easier, they let out simultaneous breaths of relief.

Arthur ran a hand through Merlin’s hair softly as he quietly spoke, aware of Hunith asleep in the next room:

“You think we’ll be alright?”

Merlin sighs and Arthur tries not to let the anxiety in his stomach swirl too violently at the lengthening silence. Finally, Merlin turns over to face his soulmate, shuffling even impossibly closer and giving Arthur a small smile. Arthur doesn’t comment on the nerves in the younger man’s eyes:

“There’s all this pressure on us to fulfil our destinies, to save the world, it’s a little... overwhelming. My whole childhood I tried to forget the fact that being Prince Arthur Pendragon’s magical soulmate would mean... everything, in one way or another, some day. And now that day is fast approaching, I can feel it, and I still have no clue what I’m doing. And that’s not even considering Morgana.-”

Arthur’s hold around Merlin tenses at the mention of his sister, and Merlin presses a soft kiss to the underside of his jaw before continuing:

“-I would give up all of it, everything, to save her. To see her happy. But... do I really have the right to make that decision? My people are counting on me, but you and Morgana and Leon and Gwen, you come first, and you always will.-”

Merlin rolls onto his back again, staring at the ceiling with furrowed brows as Arthur watches him mournfully:

“-I’ve spent so long being terrified of the fact that I know you would give up your crown if I just asked you to, and now I’m close to making the same decision myself; giving up everything for one person, to the detriment of the world.-”

He turns his head to face Arthur again, tears in his eyes:

“-I don’t know what to do, Arthur.”

The Prince clenches his jaw, having to push down the swell of anger at... everyone really. Kilgharrah, the Druids, the Gods, whosever idea this whole destiny shit was. Arthur often thought of himself as a fully matured adult whose place in the world was clear, but at times like these, he’s reminded of how young he is, and how Merlin is even younger.

He pulls the Warlock into a tight embrace, tucking his dark hair under his chin and running a soft hand over his back:

“I will stand by you, always, and we’ll figure it out, we always do. The future is fluid, Merls, we just have to keep an open mind and push through. We’ve all been through a little bit of hell, but that day? That you can feel approaching? That’s the day we change the world. I’ll force my father from the throne if that’s what it takes,-”

Arthur feels Merlin tense to argue, but rushes on before he can say anything:

“-not just for you, but because it will be the right thing to do, one day. This Kingdom, and then the world, will be golden, and the five of us, and Gaius and your mum, will be together every single step of the way. Ok? You don’t have to do anything, Merlin, not alone, not ever.”

Merlin relaxes again, and Arthur can feel his sigh of relief across his collarbones. The room goes silent for a while, and Arthur only just hears Merlin’s quiet words before he slips into a sleep filled with peaceful dreams full of meadows and flower crowns and golden eyes:

“Yeah... I think we’ll be alright.”

THE END!!

After thinking about it for a few days, and re-reading the series, I’ve decided that I actually like the ending here!

I hope y’all enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it, thanks anon for sending the idea to me all those months ago! :)

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aithuzah · 3 years ago

Note

What is your opinion on the knights (Lancelot, Gwaine, Elyan, Leon and Percival)?

Overall, I think they're a lot of fun! But I wish they'd had more screentime as individuals with character development and growth that contributed a bit more to the story as a whole. That's a problem with every side character in the show, though--they're almost never used to their full potential.

Percival gets the worst of this because he has like....no lines lmfao. one time i counted and he said literally 12 words before Arthur knighted him. He's sweet and funny, I love his teasing relationship with Gwaine and the whole quiet gentle giant thing he has going on, and when I was first watching the show with my friend we just called him Sir Muscles because we could never remember his name and the silly sleeveless chainmail is great.

But we know the least about his history and beliefs out of anyone, and it seems like Arthur knighted him more out of desperation and trust in Lancelot's judgement than a genuine assessment of his character. It would have been cool to get to know him better and to see his relationship with Arthur in particular develop more, considering he's supposed to be one of the trusted ~Knights of the Round Table~ and all, to reaffirm his worthiness of that trust after the crisis was over.

Leon.....I'm sorry Leon but his character has never really interested me personally haha. I can appreciate him in an objective way, like how he stood up to Morgana or his comedy in the assassin episode ("oh you're going to kill Arthur? that's hilarious, take a crossbow"), but he's always been pretty forgettable to me. The jokes about "Immortal Leon" and such in the fandom made more of an impression on me than the character himself.

It's mentioned once or twice that he grew up with Gwen and Elyan, and I would have liked to see that "childhood friend" dynamic explored more, especially once Arthur started courting Gwen. ORRR, what if we saw Leon struggle to reconcile his conventional, law-abiding nature with his loyalty to Arthur and his unconventional, rule-breaking ideals? I think that would have made him feel more well-rounded and human than the Generic Loyal Knight character.

Speaking of knights' relationships with Gwen, Elyan is a really fun character! I think their sibling relationship is super sweet. But a lot of my memories of him are really vague, both because it's been a long time since I've actually watched the show, and because he was never all that heavily discussed in fandom. He's overlooked even more than Leon, and was sometimes actively hated, so I feel like his role and personality weren't as consistently reinforced in my mind and my impressions are a little muddy now as a result. I'm still SO sad that he died trying to save his sister, only for her to be enchanted during his death AND (iirc) the whole mourning process. I do think he suffered Merlin Side Character Syndrome (I wish we knew more about his life outside Camelot, his past with Gwen and Elyan, etc), but I remember he had a lot of fun scenes with the rest of the knights and I think there could have been a lot more to say if people (including myself) paid more attention to him.

Compared to everyone else, we know a LOT more about Gwaine and Lancelot--their histories, their beliefs, their goals, their values, all that good stuff. (Even though Lancelot was only in a handful of episodes, all of them centered on him in one way or another.) So I love them both and could say a lot more about them, but I'll try to keep it brief heheh. I've already talked about both of them quite a bit in other posts.

I think their personalities are a wonderful contrast; Lancelot is outwardly noble but subtly playful, whereas Gwaine is outwardly playful but subtly noble. It is a Criminal Crime that they barely interacted in canon (did they even ever say lines directly to each other?? I don't remember), because I think they would have gotten along alarmingly well.

It really pains me that Gwaine became the idiot comic relief in season 5, because he showed a lot of depth and strength of character before he became a regular and they stopped doing episodes that highlighted him as an individual. And with Lancelot dead and Gwen either enchanted or relegated to doing her queen thing, it felt like Merlin lost all his friends in s5, even the ones that were still technically there.

Lancelot is 100% my favorite knight just because he was so casual about Merlin's magic. I think that's something Merlin desperately needed in his life, and I'll always be sad he (and we as viewers) didn't get more of them being partners-in-literal-punishable-by-death-crime and just having FUN with Merlin's abilities.

The Lance/Gwen/Arthur love triangle was handled really badly in multiple ways though. First of all, Lancelot did the dumb "I don't want to make her choose between us....so I'm going to make her decision for her by removing myself as an option" thing that I hate. And then he dies in the SECOND EPISODE of the season where he would have been living in Camelot full time!! And the whole enchanted Gwen/undead Lancelot thing? ughhhh.

I don't really hold any of that against him as a character, I just hate that they're plot points that removed him from the story when the story only ever benefited from having him in it--or were just a big dumb waste of time, in the case of the zombie love triangle. That screentime could have been spent on Merlin/Lancelot/Gwaine shenanigans!! We were DEPRIVED, I tell you.

#replies #anon #anonymous #knights of the round table #when i think about the knights nowadays i just want to imagine gwaine and merlin and lancelot having a blast together

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 4 years ago

Text

Blood of Mine

Prompts: Here's a quick lil Merlin prompt for you! I adored your Twins AO3 work, so amazing! Prompt: Arthur and Merlin discover they are twins by accident when an angry sorcerer curses the royal family so that anyone is isn't Uther or Ygraine's blood cannot enter or leave the castle. Merlin walks right in. - anon

a merlin prompt/request if you're still taking: can you please please please write a sequel-ish to 'Twins' where arthur and merlin find out about being twins and the aftermath of it,,, I really really adored reading the first part and how you depicted their characters !!! - onceandfuturekid

Thanks for the prompts!

Read on Ao3 Part 1

Pairings: none, we be gen in this house rn

Warnings: uhhh uther’s implied to be a dick but there’s nothing explicit

Word Count: 3281

The servants in the castle whisper.

They whisper of a night long ago, when winds howled and trees groaned and the walls held their breath. They whisper of a king, striding down a corridor, hoarding the knowledge of a firstborn son, a true born heir, close to his chest as his wife lay panting there on the bed, still suffering the afterbirth pains. The whisper of another babe, one with magic stirring in his veins, taken and shuttled to safety in the arms of the Dragonlord.

They whisper of what Uther has forbidden, what Ygraine’s memory does not say, and what all who know of the story to be true. That there is another heir, behind Arthur Pendragon, one with magic in his blood as well as royalty, that could return to sweep the land.

Morgana Pendragon is true born. She is the daughter of Uther Pendragon, sister to Arthur Pendragon, and the most formidable sorceress Camelot can remember. If she finds the other heir, what could they do together?

The servants whisper and Arthur ignores them. He has long lost hope of finding this person.

Merlin hears them and listens. Sometimes he thinks he sees a misty woman flying around just out of the corner of his eye.

He has a suspicion that destiny might have had more of a hand in this than people would care to admit.

——————————————

Merlin isn’t sure exactly why he’s able to figure out how Arthur’s going to move but he can, somehow. It tingles right under his fingertips a second before it happens, guiding him left, then right, then forward. He shadows Arthur closer than his own sword, always a moment away from Arthur’s left elbow.

He’s not sure he’s doing it on purpose, especially not while they’re arguing. Something about a visiting lord that had to be put into guest chambers that were the hardest to get to. Merlin had pointed out that it would greatly affect the servant rotations because not all the servants were able to carry their chore things all the way there, which would affect the running of the rest of the castle. Arthur had been a prat, and the argument had commenced.

They’d been winding their way through the castle as they argued, searching for more appropriate places to house the lord. And Merlin had never strayed further away from Arthur.

It’s when Gwen points it out that they both frown.

“Of course he moves,” Arthur scoffs, “it’s not like he’s tied to me.”

“I don’t do it on purpose!”

“No, you don’t have the brainpower for that.”

“No one has enough brainpower to keep up with you.”

“Ah, thank you.”

“No one is smart enough to account for your thick head.”

“Hang on—“

Then Gwen has proposed a test. She had Merlin and Arthur stand how they normally would and tied a simple knot in a bit of twine.

“There,” she says, stepping back, “now let’s just see how this goes.”

“Fine,” Arthur says, rolling his eyes, “let’s get this over with.”

Merlin had followed Arthur down the corridor. They’d found another room for the lord. They’d gone back to Arthur’s chambers.

Only when Arthur goes to sit down at his desk do they feel the tug of the twine.

——————————————

Arthur doesn’t know why he always has a keen sense of where Merlin is in the room, but for some reason, it doesn’t matter whether it’s a Council meeting, during court, or at a feast, but he can always look up and instinctually make eye contact with Merlin.

It’s more than a little bizarre, and Arthur’s definitely found himself looking away angrily when he catches Merlin’s gaze, but sometimes it’s useful.

Like right now.

It’s another one of his father’s ‘iron fist’ meetings. The council is trying to decide what the guard rotations are going to be like for the next year. Uther is insisting that the guards be increased, at the very least they must stay the same. The steward and Leon are frantically trying to convince him that the guards are unhappy with their long hours and the stress it puts on the people, and the people are stressed because, you know, there are guards in their streets all the time.

The pit in Arthur’s stomach is growing deeper and deeper by the second as Uther gets angrier and angrier. The urge to speak up wars with the need to be quiet, knowing that Uther will likely find fault in whatever behavior he shows. He needs out.

He looks up and Merlin is already staring at him, ready.

He nods surreptitiously.

Merlin goes to the door, under the pretense of asking one of the guards something, and turns.

“Sire,” he calls, addressing Arthur during a moment of pause, “there’s something that requires your attention.”

Uther barely looks at his son as he leaves.

“Thank you,” Arthur mumbles once they’re back in the safety of his chambers.

“Anytime,” Merlin mutters, shaking out a blanket to drape over the foot of the bed, “I hate those meetings.”

“You and me both.”

“Do you think he’ll ever understand?”

Arthur’s silence is all the answers they both need. But if Merlin starts doing that more often, well, it’s just good management.

——————————————

Then the curse comes.

Merlin doesn’t know who pissed who off this time. Listen, the royals don’t exactly deal with things with calm and words all the time. Morgana tries, certainly, or she did—Merlin still hasn’t forgiven himself for that—and Arthur’s getting better, but Uther is very much an ‘arrest first interrogate later’ kind of man.

So a sorcerer is very, very angry with Camelot right now—probably for justifiable reasons—and there’s a curse on the citadel.

Arthur wakes up one night to a spectral figure floating in front of his bed.

He shouts, draws a sword, only for the mistly figure to scoff.

“What are you going to do, stab me?”

Arthur certainly tries.

“I’m intangible, you dumb boy,” the figure scoffs, “you can’t hurt me. I’m not here.”

“Who are you,” Arthur demands, still brandishing the useless sword, “what do you want?”

“For you to open your eyes,” the figure says, “and see precisely what it is you’re missing.”

Arthur is exhausted, damnit, he’s been jolted awake in the middle of the night for this.

“What?”

“You Pendragons,” the figure says, “are all the same. You believe that you are better than the rest of people, that you don’t need the rest of people, or at the very least they aren’t worthy the way you are.”

Arthur can only stare as the figure waves a ghostly hand.

“Well, let’s see how you like it when you only have each other.”

With that, the figure vanishes.

And Arthur is alone, confused, and very, very tired in his room, in the dark, as the city begins to stir and quake and moan around him.

——————————————

Merlin opens his eyes. Something is wrong.

Around him, Gaius grunts and shoves something else into a bag as his feet do their very best to pull him out the door. Around him, the walls are crawling with the sounds of feet, confused and dazed voices, the courtyard outside blazing with torchlight lit hastily.

“Gaius?” Merlin jolts out of bed. “Gaius, what’s happening?”

“Merlin? Merlin, are you alright?”

Merlin flies down the stairs. “Yes, I’m—I’m alright, what are you doing? Where are you going?”

“It’s a curse,” Gaius grips out, clutching a table tightly, “my feet are moving of their own volition, I’m not controlling them.”

“Where is it making you go?”

“Outside the citadel. We are lucky it’s not further.”

“How do you know it’ll stop once you get outside?”

“I don’t.”

With that, Gaius loses his grip and Merlin rushes after him, holding Gaius tightly by the arm as they join a swarming crowd of people.

Some are in various states on underdress, clearly having just been jolted rudely from sleep the same way Gaius was. All are clutching each other, worried as the magic drives them further and further to the gates. Merlin’s own magic prickles uncomfortably, clearly feeling the strain of whatever power is driving them outside, just under the beds of his nails. It’s powerful, whatever this is, but he’s not sure the curse is directly influencing what he’s doing.

At least until he gets to the gates and slams into a wall.

Except there isn’t a wall here.

Gaius is still moving, turning around once Merlin’s grasp on his arm vanishes suddenly.

“Merlin? Merlin, what are you doing?”

Merlin shakily presses his hands against the barrier. Around him, people swarm out, but he can’t leave.

“Gaius,” he calls out, his voice wavering, “Gaius, I can’t come with you.”

“Of course you can, just—“

“No—“ he pushes harder— “Gaius, I—I—“

“Merlin—“ Gaius rushes back— “Merlin?”

Merlin shakes his head. “Go to Gwen and Elyan, they’ll know what to do, I—“

He glances over his shoulder. “I’ll figure it out.”

——————————————

Arthur sees the people fleeing and panics.

The guards are gone when he opens his door, absent from the halls as he flies down them. The rooms are empty, doors ajar, the last of the voices fading from the stairways as he races down toward the armory. There’s a secret back entrance through the stores here, maybe he can—

The force of running into the magical barrier all but stuns him, his teeth ringing unpleasantly in his head.

Panting, he rests a hand against the barrier, feeling it tingle uncomfortably at his palm before he pushes.

Nothing. No give. He can’t break this.

He grabs a sword and hucks it at the barrier, watching the metal pass through easily but his hands jerking to a stop.

So it’s personal.

The figure’s words ring in his head again.

“Well, let’s see how you like it when you only have each other.”

Uther.

Arthur turns on his heel and sprints, past the empty rooms, up the silent stairwells, finally barreling into his father’s chambers to find them empty.

He—where did he go?

He closes his eyes and strains, listening desperately for something, anything, anything to tell him he’s not alone, not again.

No, no, no, not again, he hasn’t felt this in so long, why is it back now, he’s not a child anymore—

The longing comes back full force, despite his best efforts to bury it deep. The longing for the person he still knows is missing, the one he did his very best to convince himself wasn’t real.

A wounded noise tears itself out of his throat as he turns again, bolting back down the hallway.

He won’t think of this. Not now. Not ever again. He’s going to find his father and then he’s going to find a way to fix this.

He will.

He has to.

Arthur bursts into the throne room and immediately sees his father’s back, strong and tall, tensed and angry. Uther whirls around, his face softening just the slightest bit as he sees his son.

“Arthur.”

“Father, I—there’s a curse—“

“I’m well aware,” Uther growls, turning back to face something in front of him, “I was just being informed of such a thing.”

Arthur peers around his father to see the figure lounging casually on the throne. Like they own it. Part of Arthur snarls at the figure’s open defiance, part of him is secretly impressed at the audacity.

Still, he edges behind Uther and listens as they start to talk again.

“I demand that you lift this curse at once,” Uther orders, “you have no authority here.”

“I’m not here,” the figure points out idly, twirling a spectral finger, “and you have no authority over me.”

“I am the king of Camelot—“

“You are a proud, angry, bitter man,” the figure interrupts, fixing him with a hard look, “and you have no power over me.”

“I will find you,” Uther promises in the awful, awful soft angry voice.

Arthur shudders and thanks the gods that his father isn’t looking at him right now.

“I will find you,” Uther repeats as he walks towards the throne, “I will find you and then nothing will save you from my wrath.”

“You won’t.” The figure stands, looking every bit the rightful ruler on the platform. “You cannot leave this castle.”

They wave their hand at the windows.

“Haven’t you noticed?”

“The people,” Arthur manages, trying not to flinch as Uther turns to look at him, “everyone, everyone’s gone. It’s just…it’s just us, now.”

Uther frowns. “What have you done to them?”

“You Pendragons think you’re the most powerful? That you are the most deserving?” The figure spreads their arms wide. “Then you shall have your prison of a castle. No one of royal blood may leave, and no one not of royal blood may enter.”

“You have imprisoned us,” Uther says, “in our own home?”

“Camelot is a people as much as a place,” the figure hisses, “and if you do not realize that you serve the people as much as the people serve you, you will die alone in your golden cage.”

“You dare threaten—“

Arthur’s mind glosses over as Uther starts to yell.

The figure is right. Of course, the figure is right.

But he can’t say that.

Something in his chest snaps tight and tugs, hard.

He cries out.

Merlin.

——————————————

Merlin feels the shout before he hears it.

He tears through the castle, his magic pushing him harder, faster, further, through the deserted halls and the far-too-empty rooms until he’s barreling into the throne room and almost smack into Arthur.

“Merlin,” Arthur pants, reaching out to steady himself, “Merlin, it’s awful, there’s a curse—“

“I know, I know—“ Merlin gets his arm under Arthur’s— “Gaius and the others, they all got banished from the castle, I can’t leave, are you—are you alright? Are you hurt, did they hurt you? I heard you cry out—“

“I’m not hurt, are you hurt?”

“No, no, I’m fine, what happened? Are you—did you run here too?”

“Yes, I was looking for my father, I had to find out what happened, what else the figure—“

“Figure? What figure?”

“A figure—“ Arthur gasps— “someone appeared to me in my room, said that I was—that there was going to be a curse, that they were cursing my family—“

“They didn’t hurt you?”

“What? No, no, I already said they didn’t—“

“Good.”

“No, no it’s not good, they—“ Arthur waves his hand at the doorway— “they’re the reason everyone left, they said that the—the Pendragons believe that they’re better than everyone—“

“I mean—“

“Oi!”

“Sometimes.”

“Well, sometimes I’m right.”

“Well…”

“Merlin!”

“Right, right, sorry, so what happened?”

Arthur swallows, still trying to get his breath back. “There’s a curse on my family. No one with royal blood can leave and no one who doesn’t have…royal blood…can come…in…”

What?

Clearly, Arthur’s realized that at the same time Merlin has. They draw away from each other, wary, both staring at Merlin, who is very much here, who couldn’t leave…

What?

“…Merlin?”

It’s only then that Merlin looks up and sees that they’re not alone.

Uther Pendragon stares daggers at him, his very gaze enough to make Merlin wish he could leave, before his gaze lands on the other figure.

“You.”

“Wait, do you know—?”

The figure floats down towards him, walking through Uther, and reaching out to lay a ghostly cold hand on his cheek. Merlin’s magic thrums in his veins as a sad smile crosses the figure’s face.

“So that’s what they named you,” the figure murmurs, “I always wanted to know.”

Oh.

“Is it…is it…you?” Merlin swallows. “Are you—is this why—“

The figure shakes their head. “No, not directly.”

“Then why—how did—“

“What’s going on?” Arthur looks back and forth between them. “Merlin, what are they talking about?”

The figure turns, reaching out to cup Arthur’s face too. Arthur flinches, before letting them run their cold, cold fingers over his cheek.

“You…my proud, stubborn boy,” the figure murmurs, “of course…”

Arthur opens his mouth to ask Merlin’s question of what is going on but—

They gasp.

Gold threads. Golden threads and soft smells and the faint scent of iron. Soft cries and the mewls of a newborn and a fat-fingered hand reaching into dark locks in the arms of an exhausted mother.

Years of longing, of looking, of missing something.

All compressed in a moment.

They open their eyes and see Ygraine standing there, her hands cupped around each of her son’s cheeks, smiling as tears roll down her face, washing away the last of the horrid dark grey mist.

“My boys,” she murmurs, pulling them closer, “my beautiful boys…”

Arthur reaches out, not daring to believe it, slowly cupping his own hand around the one still on his face, before he lets out a wounded cry and buries his face in his mother’s spectral shoulder. Merlin only watches in astonishment and Ygraine’s form starts to fill, becoming more and more solid as his magic flows into the bond. Into Arthur.

Oh.

Memories hit him one after the other.

Of Ygraine, alone in the birth room, two babies cradled to her chest.

Of Uther, never knowing he had another son.

Of Arthur, growing up alone, always looking for a missing piece.

Of seeing Ygraine on the island with Morgause and wondering why, why he felt so close to her and why lying to Arthur to get him to stop murdering Uther had hurt so, so much.

It makes sense now. And as he watches Arthur’s tear-stained face raise, he knows Arthur just had the same epiphany.

“Merlin,” he breathes, reaching for his twin, “Merlin, come home.”

“I’m home,” Merlin says, clinging back, “Arthur, I’m home.”

“My boys,” Ygraine keeps murmuring as she strokes her hands through their hair, letting them cuddle each other and her, “my sweet boys.”

Uther stands there, forgotten.

Ygraine barely spares him a glance.

Her boys are back together, bound by the magic that kept her here, kept her angry, kept them apart. As the last of her curse fades, so too does the curse on the family, as the other denizens of the castle begin to return, so too does she return to the hug, stroking the heads of her precious sons.

She turns and sees Uther’s devastated face.

“You will not become the tyrant of these people’s nightmares,” she says firmly in her golden voice, as her boys embrace, “you will be the king that serves them.”

Uther has enough common sense left to nod.

She turns back to her sons, Merlin’s head in the crook of Arthur’s neck, Arthur’s face buried in Merlin’s shoulder. They breathe in the scent of each other, drowning in a connection that has been deprived too long.

She can feel her hold on this plane fading.

Her boys have each other now.

Together they’re going to change the world.

Ygraine bids goodbye with a kiss on each of her sons’ foreheads and a smile.

#merlin #bbc merlin #merlin bbc #dragonbabbles #fic

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rachel-matteo-merlin-recs · 4 years ago

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Canon Era - Single Fic Arcs

Rheged

Author: McShame

Description:

Post S5 (AU): canon to the end of S4 & part of the way through S5.

Gwen and Arthur have been married for several years, Merlin’s magic has been revealed and Arthur has now reached a kind of cold peace with it. Then a delegation arrives from a kingdom based on magic, and suddenly Destiny is starkly and ruthlessly thrust to the fore. The question is should - can - it be avoided?

Word Count: 124,383

Completed: Yes

Comment(s):

Definitely might want to pay attention to the tags on this one; one scene can be interpreted both as dubious consent (but more like a I want this, but I can’t do this type of situation), as well as mentions of infidelity and attempted suicide by magic because Merlin just doesn’t want to deal with the fallout and aftermath of his and Arthur’s actions and the consequences it has on their relationships with Gwen and Gwaine. But if you can handle the rough spots, this fic is truly spectacular.

Whispering Your Name

Author: CaffeinatedFlumadiddle

Description:

A different take on the dorocha. Instead of them being faceless screams that attack you, they are actually figures of the dead. Merlin doesn’t quite realize how much death affected him until him and the knights go to close the veil.

Word Count: 22,517

Completed: Yes

Comment(s):

One of my absolute favorite fics of all time. It also has a bit of Uther redemption in it and Lancelot lives! It also has one of my favorite interactions in a fanfiction:

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Arthur growled, throwing up his hands. “That thing murdered my people and you allowed it to live--”

“You murdered my people and I allowed you to live,” Merlin said sharply. Gwaine felt his eyes widen. Bold words. Part of him wanted to ‘ooh’ at it but knew it would lead to a very bad outcome.

Dower the Stars

Author: RurouniHime

Description:

During a time of great prosperity in Albion, the Druids offer Emrys a precious gift. Arthur is not amused.

Word Count: 40,654

Completed: Yes

Comment(s):

A super fun but also very romantic fic. Druids far and wide come in and kiss Merlin, hoping that their magic will react a certain way with Merlin’s and he’ll bond with one of them. Merlin however decides to throw a wrench in his plan when he chooses to bond with Arthur instead after almost losing him.

Overstepping

Author: Masked_Mayhem

Description:

Merlin knew he was pushing his limits, that he was millimetres away from overstepping the invisible line that Arthur had wordlessly set and the warlock had been careful not to cross, but he was never one to listen to the rules that were set for him. Especially not when he was afraid.

Agravaine had managed to weasel his way into his king’s mind and ingrain doubts in the people he loved, the people that loved him...doubts that only took place and bloomed as the traitor lied and deceived and planted things against them. He had gotten rid of Gwen easily enough, and had almost gotten rid of Gaius. Merlin was afraid. Were a few words and items all it would take for Arthur to turn against him too?

Word Count: 51,915

Completed: Yes

Comment(s):

Merlin steps over a line and Arthur punishes him for it. Later, when Merlin was right, Arthur regrets his decision and saves him. Romance blooms between the two, but a wrench gets thrown in along the way with the reveal of Merlin’s magic and deeds in Arthur’s name. There is a lot of angst, but I like to feel as if it’s a happy ending for the two.

Springes to Catch Woodcocks

Author: myashke

Description:

When Arthur pushes Merlin away to protect him, what lengths will Merlin go to remain in his life

Word Count: 83,292

Completed: No

Comment(s):

Unfortunately the only negative that this fic has going for it is that it doesn’t seem as if it’ll ever be finished. There are 7 chapters and they were last updated in December of 2011. Still worth the read.

Two Souls

Author: Naelyn

Description:

A few days after Camlann, Merlin and Morgana find themselves imprisoned in the same place, and forced to spend their days together. Basically, this is just a pretext for non-stop Merlin and Morgana interaction once the Emrys reveal has been made.

“I’ve gone soft over the day, you know. A few months ago, I would have killed you where you stood.”

“A few months ago, you did try to kill me where I stood,” Merlin reminded her, and she could hear the smirk in his tone.

Word Count: 11,417

Completed: Yes

Comment(s):

One of the only fics on this list that won’t be specifically a Merthur fic; but it still isn’t Mergana either. The idea is that after the revelation at Camlann, one can assume that Arthur lived and that Morgana wasn’t killed; that Merlin had been banished or sent away for the lies he told and somehow was subsequently captured.

What starts out as a hostile interactions between Merlin and Morgana leads to understanding and apologies that lead on a path to healing. The end is left open ended, it’s implied that they are sent to their deaths in another kingdom without hope of being rescued, but you can use your imagination to decide if you wanted them to have a happier ending.

The Patter of Tiny Feet on Cold Stone Floors

Author: TheAvalonian

Description:

When Guinevere finds that she is unable to bear Arthur a child, Merlin offers her the perfect solution: an ancient spell which can create new life out of love, if that love is pure and powerful enough. But after the ritual, it becomes increasingly obvious that while Gwen has indeed become pregnant, the child she carries might not have been created from the love between Arthur and his wife - but rather from the love between Arthur and his Court Sorcerer.

Word Count: 79,131

Completed: Yes

Comment(s):

Merlin and Arthur have a baby! But it’s not an mpreg fic. Guinevere discovers that Arthur and Merlin are more tied together than she and Arthur are - and while that is difficult for her to come to terms with, she concedes that Arthur has the chance that she never had with Lancelot and doesn’t want to stand in the way. Queue of course evil plotting on behalf of Morgana and a kidnapping of the queen and princess - who happens to have shown gifts of her own - and it’s a rollercoaster of a tale that leaves you wanting more.

Metamorphose

Author: clotpolesonly

Description:

When Merlin falls into bed with Arthur, he doesn’t expect to wake up alone. He doesn’t expect Arthur to give him the cold shoulder either, but there is something else he expects even less which forces him out of the kingdom for over a year.

He returns to find a traitor in the court, an army on the way, and a love he’d thought all but lost waiting for him with open arms.

Word Count: 33,753

Completed: Yes

Comment(s):

I don’t usually enjoy mpreg fics because they don’t make sense to me from a biological stand point and usually get explained away as “because reasons”. This fic is an exception, it does a good job of explaining why it is that Merlin might wound up in his situation and it deals with difficult question about how to handle the knowledge and who to share it with.

Flowers in the Wind

Author: the_seaworthy_muffin

Description:

A thousand and five-hundred years ago, Arthur Pendragon is sent to the god Emrys as Camelot’s yearly tribute. He comes to befriend the god, and as the prince continues to spend time on the god’s island, something more seems to blossom between them. But then the Lady Morgana goes missing, and Arthur betrays Emrys to his father in a moment of misguided trust. Emrys’ island burns, the heart-broken god refusing to fight for his life. In dying, he puts a terrible curse upon the prince: to live forever, and never forget.

A millennium and a half has passed. Arthur is being slowly torn apart from the inside-out, memories of the past an ever-growing weight in his chest. When he finally finds Emrys again, he is elated - he’s ready to beg, weep, anything, if only he can find blissful forgetfulness. But while the god’s power has not faded, his memories have, and he lives his life as young artist Merlin Emrys, believing himself to be a simple man with interesting gifts. And Arthur’s hopes are dashed. But there is one last way: Arthur can try, and make Merlin remember again.

Word Count: 67,366

Completed: No - but it is being continuously updated

Comment(s):

This is a truly spectacular work of fiction and I almost didn’t give it a chance. I am so glad that I did. Honestly, this is now one of my favorite authors on AO3.

Peace, Plum, Pear

Author: sweetestdrain

Description:

How in his tenth year of rule King Arthur chose a man to take the role of Court’s Magician, and how Arthur made his decision.

Word Count: 13,700

Completed: Yes

Comment(s):

Merlin fled the kingdom after Uther found out about his magic, and now it’s been ten years since the old king’s death and Arthur’s ascension to the throne, and yet Merlin is still nowhere to be found.

Arthur gives in and holds trials for the new Court Sorcerer and in walks in an old man named Myrddin Wyllt. But, there’s more than meets the eye to this strange and mysterious magician.

Deluge

Author: Suaine

Description:

In the aftermath of Merlin’s battle against Nimueh, the rain seems a minor complication, perhaps even a cleansing influence. When the rain doesn’t stop, Camelot is pushed to the brink once more. This time, Arthur may be in over his head.

Contains: a lot of wet boys in emotional scenes, Arthur knowing more than he lets on, Merlin being an idiot, both of them being a bit stupidly heroic, telepathic chess, rain (lots of), war, making out against a tree, coincidental druids, co-opted history, co-opted myths, magic, coming of age (metaphorically), and more magically annoying yet surprisingly un-floody water than you can shake a stick at.

Word Count: 50,565

Completed: Yes

Comment(s):

Beautifully written fic, truly a great addition to the fandom.

Idiosyncratic Romance

Author: F0rcryinoutloud

Description:

“And what about your destiny?” Gaius asked softly. “Merlin, you know Arthur needs you - whether he realizes it or not. You won’t have to hide from him forever.”

Word Count: 13,942

Completed: Yes

Comment(s):

Beauty in the Ashes of our Lives

Author: Fulgance

Description:

After Merlin is executed for Uther’s murder, Arthur’s world falls apart.

Word Count: 21,599

Completed: Yes

Comment(s):

Arthur makes a huge mistake when he executes Merlin following the reveal of his magic.

Tiercel

Author: waldorph

Description:

Arthur is constantly at war.

Word Count: 6,571

Completed: Yes

Comment(s):

This is a wonderful magic reveal fic where Merlin goes out and discovers more about magic while still taking care of Arthur and protecting him; Arthur is constantly at war because Uther has decided he wants to take over and unite Albion.

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yellowmagicalgirl · 4 years ago

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Once and Maybe Future Chapter 14: Incognito Patrol

When Nimue sees a girl with far too many hairclips and radiating dark magic, it's up to her and Douxie to save Arcadia.

Heyyy, yes I know it's been over six months since I last updated and this fic is now very much not canon compliant. At least this chapter is half the length of all the previous chapters combined.

Originally this was going to be a single chapter covering the events of both "Night Patroll"/"Terra Incognita II" as well as "So I'm Dating a Sorceress" and "The Exorcism of Claire Nuñez", but due to the length I decided to only have it cover the events of "Night Patroll"/"Terra Incognita II" in this chapter; another chapter is going to finally get around to the Clairegana-and-Douxie confrontation and not just the aftermath.

AO3

FFN

It was a normal day at the Zimue records store.

Which was to say, it was absolutely boring, but there were enough customers around that Nimue couldn’t practice magic… or even really do homework for her independent study courses, considering that her manager was here today.

The door opened and closed with a blast of warm late May air.

Nimue shivered and grabbed the counter as the flashback overtook her.

Nimue-the-first did not leave her lake often. She was busy enough with her forge, and she didn’t care much for most people, especially not in crowds. She frowned as she saw wagon tracks on the road; she was getting close to a village or at least a farm. She preferred for her adopted son and his family to visit her rather than the other way around. They may be royalty, but she was a sorceress and far older. They could show her some respect.

Instead, she’d be paying her last respects to her son and her daughter-in-law.

There was a war outside her lake, and there was dark magic fueling it beyond what the Gumm-Gumms could normally use. It had been a long time since she had last seen Uther’s stepdaughter or her green-eyed gaze, but Nimue-the-first knew that Morgana had corrupted herself and was fueling the war. That, or the war was fueling Morgana; Nimue-the-first could feel it in her bones.

Nimue’s bones ached as she was released from the flashback to her first lifetime. She glanced around, trying to figure out just what had caused the flashback this time. However, there was nothing new in Zimue, nothing that would’ve set her off, and definitely not anything that would’ve caused her to flash back that far. Nimue inhaled deeply, trying to see if maybe Douxie was cooking something up next door, potion or otherwise. That had set her off once. She had been tempted to tell him then and there the truth about why she had magical powers, but she had stopped herself. Wizards were normal. Relatively rare compared to most of humanity, but normal.

Reincarnation, as far as she knew, was not. Heck, every legend about King Arthur returning was propaganda, so it wasn’t like he’d reincarnate, much less anyone else from her first lifetime.

It was kind of lonely, walking around with so many memories of bygone eras, but it had been Nimue’s life since she was twelve. Besides, the magic was more than enough to make up for it.

Then again, Douxie would never practice dark magic, and even if he wanted to surely Archie would stop him. She squeezed her eyes as she manned the register. She felt worse with every customer, though it was possible that she just was getting a headache and mistaking it for dark magic. Dehydration, maybe, as ironic as it was.

A girl stepped to the front of the line, holding the new Papa Skull album. She had a white streak running through her dark hair, with multiple colored hairclips and a matching Papa Skull shirt. She looked a little sick, a little sleep deprived, a little younger than Nimue.

Nimue gulped as the girl placed the album on the counter. The girl smiled shyly before coughing into her elbow, loud and shaking.

Magic radiated off the girl as Nimue rung up the album. It was old, and it was dark.

Perhaps being the only one with magic and memories from bygone eras would have been for the best, as lonely as it was.

The girl walked out, taking most of the dark magic with her. There were some traces of it lying in the air like a miasma.

Nimue quickly swiped her hand over her pocket to make sure her phone was there. She’d ask her manager to let her take a break, text Douxie, and the two of them would go after the girl with the dark magic. Hopefully she was just some kid with latent talent who found a dark magical spell on the internet.

“I’m taking my lunch break,” her manager told her right before she could open her mouth. “Make sure we don’t get robbed.”

Nimue made sure her back was turned to her manager before she grimaced and hoped that she had enough hay fever that it was distorting the amount of dark magic she was sensing.

“Nimue, calm down and talk a little more slowly,” he said. They were both on break, her from her day job and him from band practice with Ash Dispersal pattern. Specifically, Hank and Raoul were off to grab burgers for their lunch.

Nimue took a deep breath. “Look, this girl came into Zimue and there was something bad about her. Like, I could feel the dark magic coming off her in waves.”

Douxie decided not to ask her just how she knew it was dark magic, though he did wonder. For someone who had had no training outside of spell books on the internet and his father’s attempted tutelage of the two of them, she progressed remarkably fast. Douxie hoped that Nimue wouldn’t be able to sense years-old dark magic. “Okay, do you want me to fake being sick and go after her?”

“Uh… she left the shop an hour ago.”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Douxie was secretly glad. Nimue’s reaction to dark magic users scared him.

“Because my manager already doesn’t like me and this was the soonest I could go on break… it could be hay fever, but I made sure to take my allergy meds and I don’t think it is.”

“Okay, okay, well, what does this girl look like?”

“Uh… brown or black hair with a white streak, green, wait, no, brown eyes…” That certainly didn’t narrow down the field that well, but it did help affirm the fact that there was something about the girl Nimue had seen that had her spooked. “Oh, yeah, she was wearing a Papa Skull shirt, and hairclips? Uh, like, two, no, three, no, there might’ve been more… it’d be easier if I could show you.”

“Nimue, we both know that the extent of your drawing abilities are runes and stick figures.”

“No, not a drawing, there’s surveillance video in the store, and she came straight up to the register.”

“Isn’t that illegal? Somehow? We don’t need the law coming in and messing things up somehow.”

“I mean, technically the improvements on your pipes might also be illegal since you didn’t tell your landlord about them and they’re also giving you extra water.”

Douxie grimaced; he still wasn’t entirely sure if one day he’d have to deal with the magically enhanced water turning what was supposed to be his dinner into a potion of some sort.

Zimue closed at 7 PM every day, so at 9:30 PM Nimue snuck out of her house to break in. Her parents thought that she was sleeping after having prepared for finals she’d be taking. She wore a beanie and long sleeves to cover up her dyed hair and magically induced tattoo.

“Douxie, I thought I told you to do something that would make you less recognizable,” she said. He was wearing what he wore every day, except he didn’t roll up his sleeves.

He dramatically placed his hood over his head, and then awkwardly tucked his dyed bangs behind his ears. “Why’d you want the water bottle?” he asked, pulling one out of his pocket.

“For this,” Nimue said, sighing wistfully. She preferred shopping for clothes in the women’s section, but she missed having space in her pockets. She took the water bottle, uncapped it, and then upended it. As she handed the water bottle back to him, she made a swirling motion with her other hand.

Another good reason for wearing long sleeves: her tattoo was probably glowing right now.

A thick fog surrounded the two of them and the storefront.

“Oh. Cool,” Douxie said.

“Wish it could’ve been a smoke bomb instead of a steam bomb, but this is good enough, I guess,” Nimue said. “Besides, we don’t want to set off a smoke alarm.”

Douxie knelt next to the door, pulling out a pair of straightened paperclips. He inserted them into the lock, wiggling them around. His expression grew frustrated, and he closed his eyes. When he stood up once more, he held the lock with one of his hoodie sleeves.

“I thought you could pick locks,” Nimue said. “Well, without magic, anyways.”

“Last time I picked a lock I was in foster care, and before that…” Douxie stared off into the distance, a morose look on his face.

“Before that?”

Douxie blinked and put on an obviously fake smile. “Eh, tragic backstory stuff.”

“That joke stopped being funny halfway through ninth grade.” Nimue pushed past her friend and opened the door. Fog filtered in, covering the cameras. “Okay, so we keep the security footage over this way.”

Douxie closed the door behind him. “You know, I don’t even know if the magic shop has security cameras.”

“Good thing mystery dark magical girl came here, then.” Nimue pulled up the footage. “And good thing my boss showed me how to go through this in case we ever get shoplifted from or anything. Not that we probably will, ever. At least, if we do it’s probably gonna be on my day off. And, there!”

Douxie looked over her shoulder at the slightly grainy video, taking a photo of the girl. “She goes to our school. I saw her outside Mrs. Barros’s office last year. I think she’s a year younger than us?”

Nimue groaned, standing up and beginning to erase the evidence that she and Douxie had broken in. “If she’s a year younger than us, then she might be a member of that stupid pilot program where freshmen could graduate in a year and a half.”

“I can ask the guys; they might know since they still go to actual school.”

“Make sure you get a name; it might make it easier to go after her.”

“Hey, Nimue?” Douxie asked. She threw a glance over her shoulder as she locked up the store.

“Yeah?”

“What are you going to do to her, once we find her?”

“I don’t know exactly, but she’s got dark magic. She’s dangerous, and we’re the only non-dark wizards in Arcadia. We need to stop her.”

Douxie gave her the same sort of faraway, morose look that he did whenever he accidentally shared a detail about his childhood before foster care. Without a word, he turned away and walked to his apartment.

Nimue let the enchanted fog roll away and began to walk home. She tried not to think about Douxie’s question too much. Anyone who used dark magic had to be evil since they’d know better than to use it. They deserved what was coming to them.

“Hey, does this girl still go to our school?” Douxie asked, holding his phone out to the other members of Ash Dispersal Pattern.

“What, do you wanna ask her, wait, no, sorry, forgot you were gay,” Raoul said. Honestly, Douxie was still a little surprised that he had even had to come out to Raoul and the other guys last October. After all, Douxie trying out for Ash Dispersal Pattern had been him trying to confess his crush to Hank back in freshman year. Not that it mattered, anymore, since all the other guys in the band were straight and Douxie had moved on from his crush six months after the band had formed. “Uh, I don’t know?”

“Nimue saw her at the record store, fiddling with a ring, and she dropped it. Nimue found it after she’d left, and she wanted to try to find a way to give it back to the girl. I remembered seeing her outside of Mrs. Barros’s office last year, but I’ve got no idea about if she’s in the year-and-a-half program.”

Hank walked over and squinted at the photo. “She doesn’t go to our school; she transferred to mole high. She’s friends with my ex; the girl’s name’s Claire. Do you want me to go over?”

“Dude, Mary isn’t gonna get back together with you,” Dominic said.

“No, well, I have no idea about Hank’s ex. But no, I’ll go over,” Douxie said.

“Hand out the Battle of the Bands flyers when you get there, will ya?” Douxie took the stack of papers from Dominic. Good, now he actually had a reason to go there.

Multiple female students of Arcadia Oaks High swarmed Douxie, but not as many of them grabbed the flyers he was passing out. None of them were Claire, either. One of them mentioned the nickname that Nimue hated. Personally, Douxie wasn’t sure why it was such a problem; Hank had gone through a phase where he’d called everyone by their first initial, but there were two guys with a name starting with the letter “d” in the band and Dominic was significantly shorter than Douxie. Therefore, “Big D” and “Little D”.

A girl pushed through the crowd and tripped, dropping her books. Douxie knelt next to her helping her grab her books, and then he felt the waves of dark magic coming off of her. Something about them felt familiar, but how? Douxie placed a smile on his face.

“C-Bomb, is it? Consider me blown away, because you are nuclear.” If she knew that he was a wizard, then she would understand that this was a sign of respect. A sign that he recognized her power, but also a sign that he recognized the danger she radiated.

She smiled back but said nothing. Hmm. Maybe Nimue’s theory of Claire being an inexperienced wizard who accidentally cast a dark magic spell was possible, but that powerful without knowing how to sense for magic? That was strange. Perhaps she was goading him?

A boy in blue walked up to them, slinging his arm around Claire’s shoulder. “So, what brings you to our humble school?”

The boy placed a hand on Douxie’s chest, pushing Douxie away as Claire began to cough. That was nice of him. Something about the boy felt oddly familiar, and not just because Douxie remembered seeing him at Benoit’s multiple times. No, Douxie almost felt caught in a feedback loop, like he had sent his own magic outwards and then it got sent back at him. Almost. The magic that got sent back felt purer, less tainted. Innocent, and not yet marred by necromancy.

“The Battle of the Bands is coming up,” Douxie said as he handed a flyer to Claire. “Ash Dispersal Pattern – that’s my band – will be crushing this.” And maybe the hand motion Douxie made was a little too threatening, but there was something odd and Douxie felt like he had to do something to show a little of his strength. Not too much, but enough to make himself seem like he wasn’t a victim. “But, we’re encouraging others to give it a shot.”

Claire coughed again after congratulating Douxie on Ash Dispersal Pattern’s headline performance for Papa Skull last fall. Douxie couldn’t help but wonder if it were a regular cold, or if perhaps the illness were magical in nature. If so, maybe he, Nimue, and his father could find –

No. Douxie would have to help her on his own. Nimue and his father thought that dark magic users were evil and dangerous. They would probably advocate for letting Claire die if the illness caused by her own meddling in dark magic, or perhaps the two of them would grant “mercy” to Claire by killing her. They would probably do the same for Douxie if they ever found out the truth.

Two girls rushed over to Claire, exclaiming that they should be a cover band. Neither of them seemed to have anything magical going on, but Douxie was pretty sure one of them was Hank’s ex.

“I don’t know,” the boy said, pushing Douxie away once more. “We’re pretty busy with our after-school activities.”

Hmm. Were Claire and the boy perhaps trying to learn magic together, much like Douxie and Nimue were?

Claire took the flyer back from the boy and agreed with the girls about starting a band. Douxie glanced to his hands and quickly put them in his pockets. They were empty, and they were trembling. But why? Claire seemed powerful, but not necessarily threatening.

“I look forward to seeing you again, Fair Lady Claire,” Douxie said before walking away. Yes. Perfect. That was exactly the right amount of respect to show to a fellow wizard whose diplomatic position towards you was still unknown but was clearly dangerous due to her clearly dark but hidden power. It was good to know that, after a millennium and a half for everyone else and eight years for himself, his diplomatic training as a prince had finally paid off. If only his parents, Merlin, or Uncle Kay could have been alive and in the right mind to see him.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. This whole morning was stupid. Nimue had been so stupid as to tempt fate. She glanced up from the tile she was trying to kill with her eyes when the door opened and closed, and her best friend walked into Zimue Records.

“Everything okay?” Douxie asked.

“We got fucking robbed,” Nimue said. “This wasn’t supposed to happen to me! If this was going to happen, why not on my day off?”

“Well, at least you have security cameras. Was anyone hurt?”

“No, though the shoplifters played dumb like they didn’t know what shoplifting was. Ugh. At least some cop got there so no permanent damage was caused and I didn’t even need security cameras. How’d flyers go?”

“Fine, I found Claire.”

“Okay, and?”

“And what?”

“And what have you done about her? Fireballs? Potions turned Molotov cocktails?”

“What? No! I’m not blowing up our rival school, and neither are you! No, I just got a feel for her, and I treated her with the proper amount of respect.”

“Proper?”

“Yes. Given that she’s powerful, I called her by the term Lady,” Douxie said as Nimue smacked her forehead. “What? There’s no need for her to immediately want to kill us for disrespect!”

“Douxie, this is why people think you’re straight.” She wrinkled her nose. “Please tell me you’re just being cheeky when you call me Lady Nimue and not trying to curry favor.”

“I’m being respectful to you because you’re my friend… but also sometimes it bugs you.”

Nimue rolled her eyes. “Okay, so what are we going to do about Claire? You have any ideas about how to fight a dark wizard?”

The door opened and closed, but no human walked in. “You two won’t be.”

“You told him?” Nimue said.

“No, but he should have,” Archie said. “You two are louder than you think.”

“I didn’t want you to worry,” Douxie mumbled.

Archie raised an eyebrow at Douxie. “Between raising you,” he said before turning to Nimue, “and teaching you my fur has gotten plenty grayer without the two of you taking needless risks like tracking down a dark wizard.”

“But she could be hurting people! And we’re the only ones in Arcadia who could save the day! If we pull off some sort of sneak attack – “

“You won’t be,” Archie said. “If the two of you are to be fighting another wizard, which you won’t be, I expect you to fight with honor.”

“She’s a dark wizard. She’s evil.”

“Or she’s young and hasn’t had the training that you have. She might not know the difference between regular magic and dark magic. After all, did you know the difference when your powers first awoke?”

Nimue’s breath caught in her throat. Of course, she did; she knew so many things instinctually from her past lives.

“Or Claire’s desperate,” Douxie mumbled, breaking Nimue from her thoughts. Archie turned to him.

“That’s not an excuse to use dark magic, and it’s especially not an excuse I want to hear coming from your mouth – either of your mouths,” Archie said. “If this girl turns out to be a danger to others, or to be using dark magic while being fully aware of the consequences, then fine. I will guide the two of you in planning an attack. But I do not want either of you getting near this dark wizard without me. Am I clear?”

“Yes, Archie,” the two of them said in unison.

“Good. Now, how is studying for finals going?”

#toa zoe #claire nuñez #hisirdoux casperan #jim lake jr #toa archie #tales of arcadia #trollhunters #3below #once and maybe future #my writing #toa mordred #ash dispersal pattern #tight jeans hank

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stellarcat52 · 4 years ago

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Timeless Blue chapter four

Okay so here we are. I apologize I have no skills in writing dialogue for extended periods of time. Also hadn’t specified any sort of sleeping arrangements, Krel has his own room, and that’s where a good portion of this chapter takes place.

Krel and Douxie were not on good terms. Krel blamed Douxie for letting Merlin find out about the time travel mess, and Douxie didn’t like how Krel wasn’t helping to repair the timeline. Claire just wants to keep her boyfriend safe and get home and Steve’s newfound obsession with being a knight is honestly not helping the group in any way.

And due to pretty much everything, from Arthur’s distrust in Krel, to Douxie’s and his disagreements, to Claire’s annoyance every time they fought, everyone thought it better that Krel stayed in Camelot for as long as he wasn’t needed.

He almost snuck into the party, but after seeing Douxie knock out his past self and take his place, he knew it would be difficult and not worth it.

So while Douxie, Claire, and Steve were busy trying to fix the relationship between Morgana and Arthur, while also keeping Jim and as many trolls as possible alive, Krel was making sure Hisirdoux wasn’t going to lie in the street all day.

So Hisirdoux Casperan, woke up in the room where the extraterrestrial guardian of Arcadia was staying, to a blue, four armed prince experimenting with previously hidden materials. A book from the Alchemists in the village lay open on the desk in front of him.

“Woah.”

Keel jumped in his seat, turning around to the apprentice. “Great your awake.” Krel’s eyes were rolled and he turned around.

“What’d I do? I’ve only just met you!” Krel froze whatever he was doing, the soft glowing in his hands faded slightly as he stopped focusing on what was in his hands.

“Right. I’ve met your future self, not you.” He set down the materials, turning back at the apprentice, who was very confused. “You but with blue hair.”

“Yeah I know. You’re saying I meet you in the future?” Krel nods, turning back to his curiosity-driven work. “Wow... I must be really lucky. So what are you working on?” Hisirdoux got up to look over Krel’s shoulder.

Keel pushed him away with one arm, continuing his work with the others. “I’m trying to figure out how that gauntlet of yours-Douxie’s,” he looks back quickly to take not of whether or not Hisirdoux also has the gauntlet, “works. If I could figure out what material it was made of I might be able to mimic it.”

“Well, I’m no master wizard, but I don’t think you can make magic with metal.” Hisirdoux grinned and lit a small blue orb of power in his hand, pushing his way forwards so Krel could see it.

“Trust me. If you were a master wizard, you’d be more unbearable in the future.” Krel turned back around, fully this time, to face Hisirdoux. “Why don’t you go back to the wizard tower? The only reason I didn’t put you there myself if because the amount of knights still in the castle scare me. Also I don’t remember where it is.”

“Yeah, took me a little while to get the grounds memorized too.” Hisirdoux settled for sitting cross legged besides Krel, a birds eye view of the Akiridion’s failures and progress. “Magic isn’t something you can create you know.”

Krel pushed the comment aside, continuing to putter with thin metal strips and attempting to draw the magical glyphs only seen briefly before from memory. “Shut up or be helpful. I have broken the laws of physics before. I shall not-“

“If you tell me that story, I’ll show you the glyphs again, you’re writing them all wrong.” Douxie interrupted, holding out his gauntlet in front of Krel’s work.

Krel grabs his hand. “Deal.”

———

Douxie’s memories were changing, he didn’t notice at first, but he realized that he met Krel way before Arcadia. Their conversations entered his mind as they happened, even though he was nowhere near the Akiridion or his past self. What definitely wasn’t helping was that very vivid thought and image. A glowing character, in once unfamiliar alchemical dress, with a sarcastic tone of voice, and his immediate thought, calling the creature beautiful, then handsome, and worrying why he already didn’t like him.

Thankfully, he didn’t need to focus on the changing memories yet, he needed to protect Arthur and repair his and Morgana’s relationship. He had to save te future before he can worry about the weird feeling in his stomach after remembering the arguments the night and morning prior. For once, the constant checking of the time map wasn’t only due to nerves, and Merlin’s nagging was welcomed.

———

Krel and Hisirdoux spoke casually, explaining their culture to the other and complaining about the future Douxie. Hisirdoux wasn’t the best with words, and Krel slipped up his charismatic act because of how different the apprentice was to the other wizards he had met.

Krel’s study in magic didn’t do very well until Hisirdoux had an idea. There were magical materials in Merlin’s tower, and not many people would attempt to stop a wizard’s apprentice from entering the wizard’s tower. So they snuck in, nobody questioned it and nobody tried to stop them.

Immediately Krel tried examining everything. Crystals and books all seemed so interesting, especially if they did hold some magical secrets that he could unlock. However, nothing seems to react to anything he tries. There’s no glowing besides the king-in-waiting’s natural light and Hisirdoux’s spell, no sound beyond the natural, not even a smell that seemed mystical in some way.

It was nearing sunset, and the time the group returned, when the magic stuff was mostly put aside. Krel could consider Hisirdoux a friend, but still disagree with Douxie, right? Hisirdoux was awkward and at some points overly polite, but still try and help Krel figure this out despite believing it impossible. Hisirdoux even showed Krel the beginnings of a song he was working on.

Finally, Douxie, Claire, and Steve return, both Hiridoux and Krel knew to give them time.

Krel didn’t return to the room the team gathered in at all that night. He was given his own room, so it didn’t seem strange that he didn’t. Morgana was dead, Excalibur was gone, Douxie had failed his friends and the future. Keel was the least of his worries. Except the changes in memory weren’t. Even now, memories were coming to light and honestly it wasn’t an unwelcome distraction.

Douxie walking into Krel’s room after trying to speak with Merlin, the exact words didn’t last this long but the whole tone of the occurrence wasn’t as casual and happy as the ones from earlier. Krel was worried, spilling every negative thought about the time traveling incident to the past self of the cafe boy. Krel was crying, something neither Douxie had been previously aware he was capable of in his akiridion form.

Douxie lay alone as his past self listens to Krel’s worries, how much he already misses being home, how he wishes he could help, but also how much he regrets this. Keel starts ranting on what things he could have changed to prevent this all from happening, even going as far back to not opening the door for Douxie the other night.

Douxie starts thinking, what could he have done to prevent this. Maybe if he had fixed Morgana and Arthur’s sibling bond, maybe if he hadn’t opened the portal in time, maybe if he helped Archie find the staff sooner.

He falls asleep wondering if time stopped for Arcadia, or if Merlin and Archie are left to fight the Order in the future with everyone else they left behind, or if they thought that he was dead.

Part Three, five

#douxie x krel #timeless blue fic #krel x douxie #drel #krelxie #douxel #krel trying to figure out how magic works will not be a one chapter thing #also no I didn’t proofread this

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bi-bard · 4 years ago

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Long Forgotten Past- Arthur Pendragon Imagine (Merlin)

Title: Long Forgotten Past

Pairing: Arthur Pendragon X Reader (I tried to make this gender neutral but if I slipped up, I’m sorry)

Requested: Nope...

Warning(s): Mentions of past abandonment and memory loss

Summary: Someone made a decision that changed (Y/n)’s life forever. Now things are changing and the truth will be revealed. A visitor coming to Camelot makes sure that the truth comes out and (Y/n) learns more in a day than they had in forever.

Author’s Note: I have had this sitting in my drafts for so long! This was originally a musical prompt but I drifted very far from that original idea... whoops!

---------------------------------------------------------

“Merlin, let go of my wrist,” I hissed as he dragged me through the halls of the castle.

“No, this is important,” he replied, continuing to drag me along.

“Merlin,” we heard someone shout behind us. Merlin stopped with an angry sigh, tuning around to face Arthur. “Hello, (Y/n).”

“Hello, Arthur,” I smiled.

“Merlin,” Arthur turned his attention to the boy that was still grabbing onto my wrist. “What on Earth are you doing?”

“I need to speak to Gaius and it’s important that (Y/n) is there,” Merlin explained. “You can make me do any chores you want afterwards.”

“(Y/n), are you alright,” Arthur touched my arm gently.

“I’m fine,” I said with- what probably looked like- a dumb smile. He nodded before waving us off. “Bye.”

“Bye,” he replied.

“God, you two are pathetic,” Merlin muttered once Arthur was out of earshot and you had continued following him to see Gaius. “He is absolutely in love with you.”

“No, no he is not,” I insisted. We had this discussion all too often. Merlin had this idea that Arthur loved me... which wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true.

“Gaius,” Merlin shouted as opened the door of their room. “I’ve discovered something.”

“What is it,” Gaius asked, stepping away from whatever potion he was making.

“There’s a king missing his child,” Merlin explained. “His wife died when the kingdom was attacked and the child disappeared.”

“Merlin, where is this going,” Gaius asked. I furrowed my eyebrows and crossed my arms.

“(Y/n) is that child,” Merlin exclaimed.

“What,” Gaius and I shouted at the same time.

“Is it impossible,” Merlin asked.

“Yes,” I replied.

“You have no memories from before... about eight years old,” Merlin added. “You know that your parents didn’t give birth to you. Why can’t you even think that this is a possibility?”

“Gaius,” I turned to look at the old man. “Please tell him that he has lost it.”

“Well...,” Gaius started.

“Gaius,” I shouted.

“We need to tell Uther that there’s a chance,” he continued. “The only one who could confirm this is the man who is potentially your father.”

“You’re kidding,” I shook my head and looked down.

“Come with me, we’ll speak with him before his meeting with the knights,” Gaius said, motioning for Merlin and me to follow him.

“We’re doing this right now,” I asked. I was scared. I shouldn’t have been scared. None of this was possible. They both nodded. “Okay.”

“Sire,” Gaius said as we all walked into the throne room. “I have an important issue to discuss with you.”

“Make it quick, Gauis, I have a meeting soon,” Uther replied.

“You may have heard about King Rowan,” Gaius explained. “He lost his wife when their kingdom was attacked and his child seemed to disappear at random. Merlin and I have reason to believe that we’ve found his child.”

“Really,” Uther looked stunned. “His child has been missing for almost fifteen years. Who do you believe it is?”

“(Y/n),” I straightened my spine when Uther looked at me when Gaius said my name. “The only person who can confirm that is King Rowan.”

“I’ll have someone go and deliver a message to him,” Uther promised, walking over to us. He placed a hand on my shoulder. “It should only take a few days for him to arrive. We’ll find out the truth.”

“Thank you, Sire,” I said, nodding before going to leave. I still had work to get done... even if my thoughts were in a mess now.

**A Few Days Later**

I ran through the hallways once Gwen and Morgana finally let me go. They had insisted on making sure I looked my best when my potential father showed up. I understood why but it made me even more nervous.

I only stopped when I was right outside the doors to the throne room. The guards at the doors gave me nods that I think were supposed to comfort me. I nodded back and they opened the large doors for me.

“This is (Y/n),” Uther said as I walked in. Another man was standing there. That must have been King Rowan.

The room was completely silent. I stood in the middle of the room, scared out of my mind. King Rowan walked over slowly. My heart felt like it was going to burst out of my chest.

“Your necklace,” Rowan said. I touched in out of instinct. It wasn’t much. A single charm on some string. But I had always had it. “It belonged to my wife. She told me to give it to my child. It was her last wish on her deathbed.”

“That... That means...”

“(Y/n),” King Rowan pulled me into a tight hug. I felt him shaking. I let tears fall from my eyes. “My child.”

“Father,” I mumbled. I stepped away after a minute, trying to wipe my eyes so I could look presentable. “Why can’t I remember that time? I would’ve been old enough to have memories.”

“That was my doing,” he looked down. “I had a warlock wipe the first ten years from your mind. I didn’t want you to hold onto that pain. Now that you’re here, we can find a way to restore them.”

“Gaius,” Uther said. “He would be able to fix this, yes?”

“I could certainly try, Sire,” Gaius nodded. I turned around and hugged him.

“Thank you,” I mumbled.

“You’re welcome,” he replied before stepping back to look at everyone. “(Y/n) will need to stay in my chambers and I will need to be able to work with her in private.”

“Of course,” Rowan nodded. He gave me one last hug before following Uther, who was offering him a tour of the castle. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Of course,” I nodded. Everyone had left the room except for Gaius, Merlin, and Arthur.

“I told you so,” Merlin said. I rolled my eyes at him.

“Merlin,” Arthur warned. “One more word, you’ll be sleeping in the stables.”

“Sorry,” Merlin held his hands up. He moved over to hug me. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” I mumbled.

“Gaius and I will go off to prepare for... whatever is going to happen,” Merlin said before following Gaius out of the throne room.

“So, you’re royalty,” Arthur said after the door shut behind them.

“Apparently,” I looked down. I was caught off guard when he hugged me and twirled me around. “What is it?”

“This is the best news,” he replied. “This is perfect.”

“Why is it so perfect?”

“We’ll talk about that later,” he shrugged with a smirk before kissing my forehead. “Good luck.”

“Thank you,” I gave him a nervous smile before heading off to see Gaius and Merlin.

I walked through the door, fiddling with my hands. My stomach was full of butterflies and I was scared that I would actually throw up. Merlin gave me a comforting smile once he saw me shifting from one foot to another.

“Come lay down,” Gaius said. I nodded and sat on the cot that Gaius had.

“How is this going to work,” I asked.

“Well, I’m going to give you this potion,” Gaius held up a bottle. “It should start bringing your memory back but it will cause you to fall asleep because the process of regaining memories can be...”

“Overwhelming,” I completed his thought. He nodded. “Have you done this before?”

“Never had to,” Gaius replied, kind of shrugging at me. I let out a heavy sigh. “It’ll be okay.”

“Okay,” I shook my hands out before holding one out to take the bottle from him.

I shifted so I was laying down, then took a huge gulp of the potion. I winced at the flavor as Gaius took it from me. My wincing stopped as I started feeling drowsy, my eyelids struggling to stay open. After what could’ve been seconds, I was falling asleep.

**Time Skip**

I slowly blinked as my brain became less and less cloudy. I rolled my neck before moving to sit up on the cot. I jumped a little when I saw how many people were there... just looking at me.

“Hello,” my father said softly, sitting next to me. I smiled at him. “I know this is going to sound a little silly but... can you tell me the name of your mother?”

“My mother’s name was Aleida,” I replied, my eyes filling with tears. “She was killed by a neighboring kingdom when I was eight. And I just forgot her.”

“No, no, no,” my father hugged me, rubbing my back. “You did nothing wrong. I am so sorry. I am so sorry for everything.”

“May I have a few minutes,” I asked. “I just want to collect my thoughts.”

“Of course,” my father nodded, moving to stand and guide everyone out.

Once the door closed, I felt all of my emotions truly come out. I was scared and I was confused. I placed a hand over my mouth as I cried. Almost eight years of lost memories came crashing back in less than a minute. I couldn’t sort through all of my thoughts.

Whether or not I understood what was going on, my tears eventually stopped. I finally stood from the cot and walked towards the door. Everyone was waiting just outside.

“Sorry,” I mumbled. “I just needed to pull myself together.”

“You’re alright,” Arthur stepped forward and touched my shoulder. I smiled at him.

“Merlin, I believe you and I have some work to finish up, don’t we,” Gaius asked. Merlin nodded, a very smug smile on his face as they walked back into Gaius’ chambers.

“Rowan, I believe we have a deal to discuss,” Uther announced. “Would you like to go discuss the matter?”

“Of course,” my father replied, walking towards the throne room.

“So,” Arthur said slowly. “It’s true.”

“It’s true,” I chuckled. “So, you can tell me why this was such great news.”

“Well,” he looked down for a moment. “I just want you to know that I love you.”

“Oh,” I froze up for a moment. “As in you’re in love with me?”

“Yes,” he confirmed with a small smile. “I didn’t want to say anything because of the stupid rule about royals not being with people that aren’t also royals... but this was the best stroke of luck because now no one can do anything to you if I was to say anything... which I did.”

“I am very happy that I do know,” I replied. I glanced around the nearby hallway before leaning up and kissing his cheek. “Let’s go see what our dads are so adamantly discussing.”

“Alright,” he nodded, holding his arm out so I could wrap mine around. I leaned on his shoulder while we walked down the hallway. It was nice. This was a definitely a nice moment.

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#merlin imagine #merlin fanfiction #arthur pendragon imagine #arthur pendragon fanfiction #imagine #fanfiction #character imagine #character fanfiction

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planetsam · 4 years ago

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This fic is dark so please proceed with caution. i’m posting here after a few requests for it, but there isn’t enough room in the tags for the trigger warnings. But it deals with very mature themes. Things come in threes.

The mother, the father, the sword.

The friend, the foe, the father.

The water, the arrows, the blood.

She counts three heartbeats before her eyes close in the red. She counts to three before she opens them to the stones on the beach. Three coughs for the water in her lungs, three breaths for air to be sweet again. There’s three people inside her. The girl, the summoner—and whatever she is now. She doesn’t know but she knows she isn’t the same.

It takes three days to escape and three weeks to find them. She expects no celebrations, her joy at her people has always been her own. The unease has turned to horror. Hands move towards weapons, eyes look anywhere but don’t meet her own. It’s only Pym who pushes past her fear, who hesitates only a moment before throwing her arms around her.

“Thank the Gods your back,” she whispers.

Nimue doesn’t know what Gods would do this, but they aren’t the kind you thank with things like words or belief.

“You’re dripping,” Squirrel says when he sees her, direct as always.

“I drowned,” Nimue says. Her voice hurts from disuse.

“Are you a monster now?” He asks. She shrugs, she doesn’t know. She thinks she might be.

“Squirrel,” Pym scolds.

“It’s alright,” Nimue rasps, “is it wrong if I am?”

“No,” he says, “you’re not wrong.”

It takes her three seconds to realize she’s forgotten how to smile.

Arthur holds her for three wonderful heartbeats. He smells of earth and Folk and Nimue is so glad to be in his arms. Any remnants of her heart are with her people and he has kept them safe, as he promised he would. His front is dark when she pulls back. She wonders in how many ways has she stained him? He doesn’t let her go. He strokes her cheek with the back of his hand. He calls her his. The fear in his eyes he pushes past, the fear makes her love him more.

“Thank you,” she says, “beloved.”

“My Lady.”

Three steps.

She sees him out of the corner of her eye.

Three steps, three breaths, three seconds. He’s fast but the dark is easy for her now. She’s not expecting him to throw it back at her. Her surprise is not enough to catch her off guard. Her magic is stronger, she throws him about and pins him down. She replaces each vine he cuts twice over. If she is a monster let her be the Hydra. Let her overwhelm him until there is nothing but his foul memory. Their eyes lock as she relieves him of his weapons and pins his arms. People are yelling but she holds them back and advances on him. She wants to see the fear he’s inflicted. She wants to see him hurt.

“You were right to hunt me,” she whispers, crawling vines across his skin and up his throat,, “you should have been better at it,” she looks at the patches of green that follow her vines, “you aren’t the first Fey to be scared of me.”

“No,” he rasps.

“No?” She mocks, “I can feel your pulse racing,” she leans closer, “I smell it,” she inhales, “it smells like—“

Everything goes green.

Then black.

It takes her three breaths to open her eyes. For the first time since she drowned, she feels warm. It almost hurts. When she opens her eyes her father is looking at her. Only he doesn’t look like her father, like the powerless man who let her go. He looks ancient. She knows that look, it’s the one she’s always seen in her mother’s eyes. She realizes she hasn’t seen her mother. She died and her mother wasn’t there. She must truly be damned.

“Father—“ he cringes from the name.

“Child,” he puts his hand on her brow, “I am so sorry.”

She has no absolution for him.

Perhaps this is how her mother felt, whenever she thought of him.

Perhaps this is how everyone in her family is destined to feel about each other.

She finds Squirrel crouched over the fire. She finds her monster next to him. Squirrel looks but doesn’t get up, the monster does. What kind of evil does it take to be a monster’s monster? The kind that is disarmingly sitting by the fire breaking bread with her old friend. She’s wet and cold again. She feels like a monster as she approaches. Too close and the flames begin to sputter. She takes a step back.

“It’s alright,” Squirrel says and elbows his monster. He pretends not to notice, “do it.”

“No.”

“You said you would,” Squirrel says, “you said I could ask three times, remember?”

This monster who knows nothing of honor takes a deep breath of frustration, pushes up his sleeve and slips his hand into the flames. She watches as they change. Everything turns green and warm. Her feet propel her forward and she stands by the fire, savoring the warmth. Wet and cold is how she is, but just for a moment she can pretend that she is a living girl again.

“Fey Fire was supposed to be gone,” she says. She looks at him, “you didn’t give this to your Brothers.”

“It’s not to be shared,” he says.

“So a slow death is better?” She demands. He glares up at her, “or do you just enjoy causing suffering?”

“He only enjoys causing himself suffering,” Squirrel mutters.

Nimue snatches back her vines.

She cannot snuff out the only innocence left in the world. She looks at the monster. On any other face the look would be embarrassment, but he hasn’t earned that from her. She has no sympathy for him.

“Does he have a name?” They look at each other. She sees the monsters lips part, “I wasn’t talking to you.”

Squirrel hesitates and the fury steals her breath. He’s protecting a monster. She should have expected the Paladins to pull something like this. Children, good people, none of it has ever stopped them. The monster is upside down, dangling above his green flames. Is he fireproof? Does she care? Squirrel is shouting for the others but Nimue doesn’t care. Let them come. Let them see. They will keep Squirrel safe.

“Lancelot,” the monster breaks through her rage with a word, “my name is Lancelot.”

She releases him mid air and is only mildly disappointed when he manages to land on his feet. He pulls the green from the fire and it winks out. The last thing it shows is him pushing Squirrel behind himself. His eyes don’t leave her. She hears the others come running. She cannot bear to have them see her like this.

The calls of her name chase her into the dark.

She wishes she didn’t miss the warmth.

“What am I?” She asks her father.

“Something beyond this world,” he says, “and my daughter.”

“I wish my mother were here,” she says, “she would fear me, wouldn’t she?”

“She didn’t fear me,” Merlin points out, “I can’t imagine her ever being afraid of you, even now.”

It only makes her feel slightly better to hear that. It’s Arthur and Pym and Squirrel who are afraid but like her anyways who really matter. But it’s Morgana who appears in a black dress in an instant, who throws off her veil and runs to her without any hesitation. She’s ephemeral, like a shadow and Nimue feels very much a drowned fish in front of her, but they collide like two lost stars. Nimue knows she’s weeping and thinks you can hardly tell with how she is now. There are no tears on Morgana though her shoulders shake with sobs. Perhaps this is who they both are now.

“I thought you were dead!” Morgana cries.

“I’m as dead as you,” Nimue says and she throws her head back and laughs, “oh I’ve missed you.”

“Not as much as I’ve missed you.”

There’s the old, the new and the yet to be. In Morgana’s embrace all three sing sweetly together. Nimue wishes that was true for everyone else. She longs for hugging them to feel as it did. But only Morgana is the same, even if she is now shadow and air. They have become monsters together and if Nimue had to choose someone to walk the path with, it would be Morgana. She looks Lancelot up and down.

“Betrayed anyone lately, pet?” She sniffs.

“Only my brothers,” he replies simply.

“Which ones?”

She rolls her eyes and loops her arm with Nimue’s. It’s almost easy to forget they know each other. That they are connected in a very odd way. She doesn’t seem surprised to learn that he’s a Fey and Nimue realizes it is rather ridiculous to assume the Church didn’t know. They didn’t speak of it, to be sure, but everyone seems to have known. It earns him favor with no-one, she thinks Squirrel was probably right and he enjoys causing his own suffering. The people she knows from the church, who believe it’s doctrine, all seem to enjoy their own masochism. Not as much as inflicting it on others, but they enjoy it all the same.

“I’m glad you kept your wits about you,” she says to Morgana.

She shudders to think of how the convent, how any of this, would have been without her.

It’s three weeks before she finds herself alone with him.

She sleeps but not really, she dreams in memories and powers. Sometimes when she sleeps she walks. There are no village walls to stop her in the place they are in, just endless endless fields. She opens her eyes to find she’s lost. The dripping never leaves a trail, everything looks the same. She is about to call out when he parts the grass with a covered hand. More and more of his layers have found their way to other people, bodies more in need of warmth than pride. He takes care not to touch the grass.

“Are you going to try and kill me?” She asks.

“I would have taken my chance when you were asleep,” he says.

It’s a wonder that their voices sound alike. She’s forgotten how to have a conversation, he doesn’t seem to ever have learned. He’d be pitiful if not for their history. She supposes she would be the same. Somehow they have become two monsters standing there. One of water, one of fire. Her skin crawls at the realization and the part of her that is still a girl wants to turn and flee. From him, from this, from everything.

“I’m not your Queen,” she says. He raises an eyebrow, “you’re not one of my people.”

“I didn’t ask to be.”

“Good,” she says, raising her chin, “so we’re clear.”

He looks at her silently. Patiently. She wants to tell him to leave her, but she’s not sure how to get back. She knows he knows the way. She remembers him, eyes half closed and nose turned up to the wind. Sniffing her out. Like a dog. Her stomach or what’s left of it recoils. Is a dog loyal to only one master? She cannot remember. She cannot think about it. She’s already dead so she isn’t sure it even matters.

“Take me back,” she says.

He inclines his head and steps forward, leading the way.

The safety of her people is the only thing that matters now. She needs to get them somewhere. Somewhere away from the Paladins and away from the mortals. She cannot do it alone. Morgana goes, quick and shadow, she dissipate and reappears like a dark, comforting thought. The first thing she always does is remove the veil. As if seeing Nimue and her brother lets her shed one piece of madness. When she does it this time, the usual determination is gone and replaced by a joy that Nimue hasn’t seen on her face in a very long time.

“I’ve found it,” she says

“Where?”

“It’s far, but I can lead us there. We’ll be safe,” her smile slips, “we will have to pass by Paladin territory.”

“You’ll lead us,” she says to her friend. She looks at him, “you’ll guide us there safely.”

Morgana squeezes her hand.

“I need a map,” Lancelot says.

He finds a way through for them, all of them. Though it takes him a few moments to figure it out. She gets the sense that taking care with groups of people is not his forte. But he tells them where they need to go and how to be prepared for what the Paladins might do. She would thank him but she decides to do that if they get to where they need to go.

“Be careful about trusting the Ash Folk,” her father says.

“Because he has something you need?” She asks.

“Because they have nothing to lose,” he says, “that’s a dangerous thing.”

“I don’t either,” she begins, but then stops. Her people, her people need her. Even if a voice tells her that Arthur will see them safe to where they are going, that they are in good hands, she knows she can do a better job. “If it comes down to it, I don’t either.”

Merlin scowls and she tries not to equate it with the look her mother sometimes gave her when she was particularly stubborn. When she acted like her father. She’s become a monster like him and far worse. She has nothing to lose because she will only be able to lead them so long. So far. Then her time will be done and she doesn’t know what comes next, but it scares her. Perhaps there is a hell. She’s fairly certain she’s been to it, the idea of returning to it terrifies her. She finds him easily enough, scouting out a route. Second guessing himself.

“Are we this for a reason?” She asks, “is there a purpose?” He looks at her quietly, “I’m asking you a question. What does your God say about it?”

“Nothing,” he says.

“Nothing?”

“God doesn’t speak of Fey,” he says.

“What does that make you?” She asks.

“Damned,” he says simply.

She is as well but she loathes having anything in common with him. She’s afraid that if she starts to count the things, she will find too many. She doesn’t want anything in common with him, but at least she’s like this. At least she can tell herself that the girl she was wouldn’t. What she is now, well, she doesn’t know if there’s a point in drawing lines between monsters anymore.

“Hell hurts,” she tells him flatly.

She enjoys the flash of fear in his eyes too much.

It doesn’t stop him though.

He’s there, damn him. Her power doesn’t stop him. He lurks like a shadow. Like he’s stalking her and maybe he is. Maybe this is always how things were fated to go. Her longing for the girl who ran off on her mother’s hatred sours to bitterness as she thinks this might be how it was always meant to be. Her mother was to meet her father, she was to be born. She was to have hopes and dreams, to think she could escape her fate. But fate wins. Fate always wins. And the world is unbearably cruel, even to someone like her who only has one foot in it.

“Do they let you fuck?” She asks one night after nearly killing Merlin. Her father waves her off but she lingers outside his tent, “or is it just murder that’s allowed?”

“Does it matter?” He asks. His words have started to come more freely, but not freely enough for her liking.

“It does to me,” she says. He raises an eyebrow, “I miss being warm.”

He stares at her and she wonders if either of them is sure that she’s joking. She can’t fully say. Being warm sounds wonderful and she’s not sure if she’s meant for wonderful things anymore. But if she boils it down, his fire is the thing that makes her feel warm. The only thing.

“So are you a virgin?” She asks.

“That’s not important.”

“Of course it is, I want to be warm for longer than a virgin can last.”

He huffs and that’s the only indication he’s uncomfortable. She relishes his discomfort. She wants him to be uncomfortable so he’ll stop being so stubborn and so incendiary and such a shadow. She wants him to feel pain, even just a fraction of the pain he’s caused her.

“Don’t you have Arthur for that?”

She hisses through her teeth. Arthur is good. Arthur will be great. Arthur is not warm. He’s not what she needs right now. And she is not what he needs either. They are bad for each other. She doesn’t care what Lancelot thinks of her. He’s as damned as she is, she just has a better reason to face hell.

“You took everything from me,” she says to him, suddenly in front of him. So close she can almost feel it. He looks down at her but he doesn’t look away, “the least you can do is give me the memory of being warm.”

His throat bobs but he doesn’t look away.

That doesn’t make him brave.

“Nimue—“

She kisses him so he shuts up.

She kisses him because it makes him uncomfortable, because she wants to hurt him. Mostly she kisses him because the idea of her name on his lips is utterly unbearable. He’s never kissed anyone before, that much is very clear. But he’s fought people. He translates it into the language that he knows. She digs her teeth into his bottom lip to help him along and suddenly finds herself pressed to the wall, the warmth from his skin seeping through her wet gown. Things come in threes.

It’s warm.

It’s painful.

It’s copper.

They pull apart and their mouths are wet with her water, their saliva and his blood. It’s an ugly thing, kissing him. It’s a betrayal and greed. Perhaps his church was right and she is sin. Well she knows that she’s sin now, but perhaps she was always sin and this was just the inevitable conclusion of it. She looks down to see that his shirt is wet and sheer. She slides her fingers to the mark on his shoulder and she watches him watch her. Something dark is in his eyes.

“Burn with me,” she offers.

“No.”

“You will. One day.”

He takes the warmth with him when he pulls away.

She mourns for it again.

He doesn’t leave.

She damns him all the same.

The island is beautiful when she sees it across the impossible body of water. Something in her unravels at the sight of it. It will be safe. She will make it safe. Morgana looks at her tearfully and grasps her hand without any fear.

“You did this,” she says to her friend.

“We did this,” Morgana says, “we’re so close.”

“Tomorrow,” Nimue tells her, “it will be done tomorrow.”

Lancelot finds her along the shore, feeling the rocks under her feet. She hears him coming but she keeps her eyes focused on the still waters and and the island. Storm clouds are coming in and soon it starts to rain. She doesn’t mind it. When she turns Lancelot is still there looking out at the water.

“You cannot go where they are going,” she says, “you’re not ready.”

“And you?”

She smiles painfully.

“I guess the flames haven’t melted your brain.”

He searches her questioningly but she kisses him instead. She doesn’t want questions or his pity. Maybe it’s fitting that he’s here when she gives up the last of everything. When she goes to pull away, his arms tighten around her waist. His request doesn’t have to be spoken to be heard. But he doesn’t have the right to request anything of her.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “for what I did.”

“I know you are,” she tells him, “that’s not enough.”

“I know.”

He flattens his hand on her sternum and she breathes in the warmth that coils down in her bones. She’s not mortal anymore, not flesh or blood, there’s nothing there for the fire to fuel itself. So it simply burns where her heart used to be. When she steps back, his arms drop and she picks up the sword.

“Kneel,” she says., “A knight of the Fey is one with the land, as enduring as the Great River, and as true as Arwan’s Bow,” she says, “we are born into the dawn to pass into the twilight,” she raises her chin, “you are my knight now, Lancelot of the Lake. You serve me. And I command you to follow Arthur, until you return.”

“Yes, my lady.”

Things come in threes.

The waters close over her and fill her lungs again, but the fire still burns in her chest. She is water and fire and girl. She is living and dead and the sword in her hands. She settles ad floats and the lake becomes hers. Hers to control, hers to guard, hers to be. None will touch her people now as she wraps around them, carried by the current in the water. She watches them cross and she watches those who stay. Lancelot and Percival and Arthur. In time there will be others. One day she will even share the sword. One day she will let them all pass to Avalon. It’s both one day and happening and long in the past.

She doesn’t exist in time in the same sense but as Morgana whisks around in the sky, she is glad for the company.

#cursed #cursed netflix #nimulot #nimue #lancelot #nimue x lancelot #nimue x arthur #nimue x morgana #morgana #arthur

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aladygrieve · 4 years ago

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Merlin/Arthur Fic Rec

** - Favourite

FANDOM CLASSICS

Castle (The Rules by Which We Live) by kickflaw Word count: 16,200 Summary: Merlin knows that getting off fastest when he’s got some BDSM porno playing loud on the computer doesn’t mean he’d really like to be that bloke, gagged and bent over and bound. Right? Notes: Modern AU and the best BDSM I’ve ever read.

Destiny That Darkly Hides Us by Nympha_Alba Word count: 63,000 Summary: It’s 1913, the practice of homosexuality is unlawful, so is the practice of magic. When Arthur Pendragon and Merlin Emrys meet as Cambridge undergrads, they’re both hungry for a real and true connection without secrets. For a short time they believe they may have found it. But war breaks out and separates them, and it seems unlikely that they will meet again. After all, what are the odds? Notes: Includes reincarnation!

Drastically Redefining Protocol by rageprufrock Word count: 46,000 WIP Summary:In which Prince Arthur meets Merlin and all hell promptly breaks loose. Notes: Modern AU in which Merlin is a chain-smoking med student and Arthur is the womanizing Prince of Wales. Includes several companion stories.

**The Student Prince by FayJay Word count: 145,200 Summary: A modern day Merlin AU set at the University of St Andrews, featuring teetotal kickboxers, secret wizards, magnificent bodyguards of various genders, irate fairies, imprisoned dragons, crumbling gothic architecture, arrogant princes, adorable engineering students, stolen gold, magical doorways, attempted assassination, drunken students, shaving foam fights, embarrassing mornings after, The Hammer Dance, duty, responsibility, friendship and true love… Notes: Because really, no rec list is complete without the novel-length jewel of the Merlin fandom. It’s plotty, beautifully written and perfectly in-character, and is especially dear to my heart now that I’ve actually visited St. Andrews. I highly recommend the podfic, as FayJay is an incredible reader.

REINCARNATION/FINALE-COMPLIANT

Hold My Heart Until it Beats by ingberry Word count: 1920 Summary: Arthur dies and waits for Albion to need him again. But most of all he waits for Merlin. Notes: Great use of the Arthur waits trope.

**Hopeless Wanderer by Magnolia822 Word count: 18,500 Summary: Merlin has been wandering the world for hundreds of years alone; one day a young blond man moves into the flat upstairs. But does Arthur remember? Notes: Still my all-time favourite reincarnation fic.

I Keep Going Over the World We Knew (Over and Over) by Mellacita Word count: 51,100 Summary: When Merlin Emrys is sent on a ‘round-the-world assignment, he begins remembering a life of magic, dragons, and kings. To make matters worse, a strange woman starts stalking him along the way. And that’s before he even meets Arthur Pendragon, whose answer to climate change is going to save the world. Because apparently just saving Britain won’t be enough this time around. Notes: Plotty and intricate and very, very cool.

Let Your Heart Hold Fast by Acavall Word count: 3000 Summary: Merlin waits for Arthur’s return, and the only way to hold on to his memories is to write them down. Over and over, again and again, as history marches by. Notes: Works interesting historical references into the reincarnation deal.

Never Let Me Go by LadyVader Word count: 3500 Summary: Merlin has walked the world for a long time waiting for his friends return. Notes: Great use of the rest of the characters.

Now I Will Unsettle the Ground Beneath You by nu_breed Word count: 42,300 Summary: Merlin’s dreams have always fuelled his art, but they’ve always been abstract and removed from reality. Soon after he meets Gwaine, he starts to see vivid images of a past full of death and magic and love for a King who was ripped from him. Things only escalate further when he spends a weekend in the country with Gwaine and meets his group of friends, which includes aristocrat and It Boy, Arthur Pendragon. Merlin soon realises that no matter how hard you try, one thing is certain, you can’t fuck with destiny. Notes: Merlin’s dating Gwaine but he and Arthur can’t keep their hands off each other. I love it.

Old Love, But in Shapes That Renew and Renew Forever by leopardwrites Word count: 3500 Summary: People accept that an old man might live alone. People understand that he might have lost the greatest love he has ever known. Notes: Fics that deal with old!Merlin are never not going to be gut-wrenching.

CANON ERA

A Bet by juxtapose Word count: 1100 Summary: In which the Knights stumble upon a private moment between the Prince and his manservant, Leon is uncomfortable, and Gwaine decides to make a bet. Notes: All the knights are fantastic in this one.

The Accidental Seduction by Ras Elased Word count: 9000 Summary: Arthur’s a bit dim and a prank goes horribly awry, but in the end this works out to the benefit of all involved. Notes: Almost unbearably adorable.

**Finding Home by riventhorn Word count: 7860 Summary: When Gaius retires, a new physician takes over, one that quickly kicks Merlin out of his room and takes it for himself, Arthur finds Merlin sleeping in the stables..and it’s winter. Notes: Good old-fashioned hurt/comfort with a dash of fluff. Probably my favourite canon-era fic.

**Fools of Us All by adelagia Word count: 11,100 Summary: Merlin accidentally makes everybody in Camelot fall in love with him. Everybody except Arthur, that is. Notes: Cute, funny and very in-character.

Freedom Hangs Like Heaven by derryere Word count: 9000 Summary: It’s happened five times and they don’t talk about it. Notes: The unresolved romantic tension will end you.

The Greater Bond by ravenflight21 Word count: 15,500 Summary: When Arthur is kidnapped by slavetraders, Merlin has only one option: to buy him. Playing Arthur’s master has its drawbacks – but it also has extraordinary compensations. Notes: Fabulous trope that also includes fancy dress. What more do you want?

**A Heavy Heart to Carry by ThursdayNext Word count: 12,561 Summary: When Merlin is captured and injured, Arthur must face up to his own feelings for his manservant as well as the many secrets he discovers are being kept from him. Notes: I think this might have been the first merthur fic I ever read. It’s Cold Outside by ionionie Word count: 2500 Summary: Merlin and Arthur get trapped in a cave on a freezing cold night. How do they stay warm? Notes: I’m such a sucker for this trope it’s actually sad.

**Meteorology by fayhe Word count: 4600 Summary: Character study with spot-on cameos from Uther, Morgana, Gaius and even Kilgarrah. Notes: Best Gen.

So That I Might Be Where You Areby cherrybina Word count: 4600 Summary: When a spell goes wrong, Merlin and Arthur are linked together in an unusual way, which leads to lots and lots of UST. Notes: Not kidding about the UST, which works surprisingly well. **Stars Above, Stones Below by Destina Word count: 46,800 Summary: After the disastrous end of his betrothal to Gwen and the regret of his offer to Princess Mithian, Arthur swears off finding a wife until he’s ready to wed. When Merlin offers himself to Arthur as bedmate, Arthur suggests they hand-fast in secret for a single year of mutual pleasure without obligation. As their year together unfolds, and secrets and betrayals unravel around them, Arthur and Merlin learn there is no such thing as uncomplicated pleasure. Everything they thought they knew can change in the span of a single year. Notes: Another one of my absolute favourites. Winterbloom by Shinybug Word count: 6200 Summary: Deep in the woods in the frozen heart of winter, a careless comment leads to a redefinition of Arthur’s relationship with his manservant. Notes: Emotionally-constipated boys shivering in the cold will always be one of my favourite things.

MODERN AU

A Change of Pace by kianspo Word count: 54,600 Summary: The one in which Arthur works in finances and his suits are various (two) shades of grey, Merlin works in advertisement and has no boundaries whatsoever, Morgana drinks rum, Mithian stages a coup, Agravaine is aggravating, and Elena’s house is amazing. Also, Andy Warhol is mentioned in vain, and Arthur and Merlin fall in love in Victorian era style. Notes: In which Arthur has a structured, ordered, boring life, until Merlin comes along.

This Silly ol’ Dance is Perfect for Two by SlantedKnitting Word count: 80,500 Summary: Arthur is young, gorgeous, talented, and captain of one of the best football teams in England; his life should be perfect. But he can’t keep a girlfriend for more than a few months, and it’s not just because he isn’t ready to settle down. When his most recent girlfriend dumps him, he has a rough night at the pub and has to be dragged home by his neighbour, Merlin. Merlin is an archivist, a Ph.D student, and he hates football almost as much as he hates Arthur. They both have their own reasons for not wanting to spend time with each other, but after that disastrous night, remaining silent neighbors doesn’t seem like much of an option anymore. Notes: Plotty and original. Wicked Game by winterstorm Word count: 42,400 Summary: Arthur’s the King of Camelot…nightclub. He can pick and choose who he wants, and he does – often – no promises and absolutely no repeats. The night he chooses Merlin might just be his undoing. Notes: Slight age difference.

#merthur #merlin/arthur #merlin #bbc merlin #fic recs #fanfiction #made rebloggable for your convenience

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storiesfromtheaether · 3 years ago

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light of the sun spoiler

for those looking for an extra after finishing half of a whole, enjoy this scene from chapter one of the second part, light of the sun (bodes well for others)

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The rest of the week at Camelot was tense, after their memories had returned. Because they remembered each other and how they used to be, and wanting to kill each other was frowned upon these days. Mordred the councilman came in the next day to inform leadership he needed time off.

"Oh," Morgana said, unsure how to respond. "Okay."

He watched her for a minute, then quietly disclosed to her, "It's not the staff." That was half true, at least; Morgana's presence was comfortable, Arthur's...not so much. "It's… Asa."

"Is he bothering you?" she asked.

Mordred seemed to hesitate, finding it difficult to explain. "Not entirely." How could he describe the kilter he felt every time he looked at his younger self, listening to the voice in his head being full of hope about Emrys. How could he have been so gullible at that age?

He did it! Emrys brought magic back to the world! Asa had said, many times, to him. He lives!

The disdain Mordred had felt for the death of Colin Morgan shifted to despise for Merlin being alive. Merlin didn't do anything he could have done in Camelot. Magic should have been freed long before this.

But Mordred wasn't aware of the trials the immortal had lived through, watching magic snuff out of existence. He didn't know the truth of the matter.

It was other things Asa said that disturbed him the most. Apparently there was a ghost of a druid in the building, but Alex couldn't see or sense it's presence as Asa could. His younger self seemed more in tune with the magic around them, while Alex could only see the differences it made: trees bloomed at the wrong time of year practically overnight, the weather warmer, everything looked brighter.

Mordred hated it. He hated not being able to enjoy the new era with the wonder of a child. When did he lose touch with nature? When did he become a swordsman and not a sorcerer?

"Mordred?" Morgana gently pressed, softer than he had ever seen her. Kind as he remembered from his childhood.

Asa had commented about her, too, reminiscing the few times he saw her being so young. Alex vaguely mentioned her terrorizing reign, but Asa wouldn't listen to it.

Her heart is too big. She cares too much.

He hated Asa's innocence. It reminded him too much of Merlin's stupid optimism.

"He's not bothering me," he responded. "I'm bothered by the irrationality of his existence."

Morgana sympathetically nodded. "Okay," she said again. "I understand. Are you finishing today, or going home early?"

"I'll finish the day, m'lady."

They both froze, Mordred cursing inwardly at the slip. He reached for her, but Morgana turned away. "Thank you for holding up."

Mordred didn't know what to say or do; he's lived with a longer memory of Morgana being ruthless and cunning. And this wasn't her selfless kindness when he was Asa's age. He didn't know this nervous, shy Morgana.

"Morgana."

"We're not talking about it at work," she told him.

"Let's exchange numbers," he suggested.

She looked at him again, uncertainty in her eyes. "I suppose we could."

Mordred reached for her again, holding her elbow. She jumped under his touch, seeming spooked. "Are we friends, Morgana?"

"I want to be," she said softly, "but the man I want to marry is a Knight of Camelot." He pulled back his hand. He noticed her eyes follow his arm, and her expression hardened and kept him pinned. "Are we only friends if I have it out for Arthur? Or can we be adults and have separate friend circles?"

He would’ve sounded strangled if answered her immediately. Mordred waited a moment before saying, “We should talk about this over the phone.”

Morgana made an agreeing noise, but said, “Later. I need to pass meds.” She walked around him to get to the cart, feeling his eyes on her until he went away. Too focused on Mordred, she didn’t notice Gaius’ eyes, or presence for that matter, watching her from the far corner desk.

“Who is the lucky fellow?” he asked her.

She was startled, jared from her hard concentration on the computer. Morgana glanced at him. “You’re still nosy,” she told him factually. Gaius shrugged his shoulders and nodded contemplatively, but he waited patiently in silence. Morgana could almost pretend they didn’t have a nasty past.

He would be stupid to trust her, just because she had been Katie. But… she also knew Gaius was good at pretending.

“Leon,” she said without looking at him, busying her hands with lining up pill cups. “I- I know it’s making things complicated but we were different people, and we-- I’m in love, s-so--”

“Is it complicated between you and Sir Leon?” Gaius interjected.

“N-no,” Morgana said. Going home early was the best thing she could’ve done. Leon took his time explaining Agravaine’s abduction, his time with the faerie, and being saved by Merlin and other knights, that he didn’t know who anyone was until he saw her uncle, that Morgana had been the best thing to him in this modern life and he didn’t want anyone different, he’s loved her then and now and wouldn’t stop.

Gaius smiled softly. “Then I wish you both lasting happiness.”

She unexpectedly choked up, eyes becoming misty. “Thank you.” Morgana chastised herself mentally; she hasn’t been this emotional or anxious in years, and she felt like she was losing control of her decisions because she was hesitating. She bit her lip, wondering if she could talk to her therapist, wondering if she’d--

Morgana froze again at a realisation. In a flurry, she opened the drawer and went searching for Morgan’s discontinued medications. She counted the cards, then double checked the binder of med deliveries. The nurses had cleaned that cart from top to bottom; it didn’t make sense to lose those cards, but now knowing Merlin was still alive of course he would still need them.

Of course he would run out. Morgana pulled out the other four cards (two of a three month supply), and went to the report room where Arthur had been hiding since the start of shift.

Arthur liked being distracted by work. He’s able to ignore the sorcerers’ presence behind a closed door. But being alone distracted his mind when the computer work became monotonous.

He felt like an idiot. They haven’t talked about anything meaningful, like sorcery. Arthur hadn’t seen Merlin use it, and even when he was still in Camelot he said he didn’t have it. After the memories returned, he assumed even Morgana should have magic if there was any. Obviously there was some sort of magic if everyone he ever knew or cared about was reincarnated into simpler lives. Or two Mordreds--

Someone knocked, and Arthur’s shoulders automatically tensed. The door opened slowly, and Morgana called out softly, “Arthur?”

“What is it?” he asked tersely, not looking away from the screen.

She came up, something on her rattling, and she laid them on the table. Pill cards. He glanced at the label: Merlin’s cards.

“I know Merlin is with you,” she said. “Give those to him. And I was also thinking...” she hesitated, drawing out her phone but still looking at Arthur. “My therapist. It’s his mother.”

#merthur #merthur fanfic #spoilers #Light of the Sun #live long in the minds of men

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swanqueeneverafter · 4 years ago

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Sins of the Past Pt.7

Camelot. Present. Morgana's Chambers. (Guinevere stands watching from the doorway as the physician finishes his examination of Morgana.) Physician: "Everything’s going to be all right. You’re safe now." (He leaves. Guinevere begins to follow him.) Morgana: "Guin. Please, I want to speak to you. (Guinevere walks further into the room:) I want you to know that I don’t blame you for what happened.” Guinevere: “Morgana, I’m sorry but after all this time, I still don’t know for sure... what did happen? Arthur never told me.” Morgana: “He tried to poison me.” Guinevere: (Shocked, moves closer to Morgana:) “I blame myself. I never believed he could do such a thing.” Morgana: “It’s alright, Guin. I understand. You were in love with him.” Guinevere: (Shaking her head:) “I thought I was. For years he kept me under his spell. I was complicit in his lies and treachery. Can you ever forgive me?” Morgana: “Only if you can forgive me in return?” (Morgana reaches out her hand.) Guinevere: “Of course, My Lady.” (Guinevere rushes over and hugs Morgana, taking a seat beside her on the bed.) Morgana: “I was so naïve, Guin. I don’t think I really understood what I was doing. But, believe me, I have seen firsthand the evils in this world. You don’t know how much I regret everything that I’ve done. I just… I hoped so much that you would forgive me.” Guinevere: “I’m so sorry for everything you’ve been through. I never thought I’d see you again. It’s so good to have you back.” (They hug once more.)

Camelot. Past. Council Chamber. (Uther stands with his arms open wide, relieved to see his daughter until she storms towards him.) Morgana: "You have blood on your hands, Uther Pendragon! Blood that will never wash off!" Uther: "Morgana, what-" Morgana: "Those were my people you slaughtered!" Uther: "The Druids? What is this madness you speak?" Morgana: "I know now who I really am. And it isn’t something to be scared of." Uther: "Morgana you're raving. Clearly they've bewitched you, you're not yourself." Morgana: "I'm more myself than I have ever been, father. Maybe once you're dead and gone the people of Camelot will come to see magic as a force for good in this world again." Uther: “May I remind you that you’re speaking to your father and your King.” Morgana: “May I remind you that a king is wise and just. You are neither. You rule only with the sword.” Uther: “You know nothing of what it means to be King. The fate of Camelot rests in my hands. It’s my responsibility to protect the people of this land from its enemies.” Morgana: “Then the kingdom is doomed! For one by one you make enemies of us all!” Uther: “You speak treason, Morgana.” Morgana: “Only a mad man hears the truth as treason.” Uther: “Take care, child, or I’ll have you restrained.” Morgana: “You just try.” Dungeons. (Morgana is dragged into a large prison cell by some guards and chained to the wall.) Uther: “And you will remain here until you learn your lesson.” Morgana: “Then release me because I’ve learned it already! That you care not for me, or anyone but yourself! That you’re driven mad with power! That you’re a tyrant!” (Uther walks away, the guard slamming the door shut behind him.) Enchanted Fortress. Past. (A young woman watches Morgana through a magic crystal and smiles.) Morgause: “Hider eft funde. On þisse ne middangeard. Morgana Pendragon, a great destiny awaits you. The battle for your soul is about to begin.”

Storybrooke. Present. Swan-Mills House. (The Swan-Mills' are having dinner. While Regina feeds Maria, Emma and Henry are talking.) Henry: "So Gabrielle said I should write what I know, and obviously I told her that I've already done that." Emma: "Right, and tell me again why you can't just take the storybook to a publisher and see what they think?" Henry: "Because I think there's got to be some Author's law about trying to make money off these stories. Just look at Isaac." Emma: "You're comparing yourself to that creep? Isaac abused his power as the Author and wrote his own happy ending at the expense of everyone else's pain and suffering." Henry: "And I wrote my happy ending by joining the Dream Realm to the other realms of story." Emma: "Which means you're no longer the Author." Henry: "Right." Regina: "So what's the worst that can happen? Henry, if you're worried that someone's going to come along and trap you inside the storybook, the Apprentice is long dead." Emma: "And the Sorcerer? He's not going to be able to do anything to you from where he is." Henry: "It's not that. I just... I didn't realise how hard being an adult was going to be." (Regina and Emma exchange looks.) Regina: "You didn't just make Ella's world real. You became the man of her dreams." Henry: "And how can I live up to that when I can't even put a roof over her head?" Emma: "By being there for her. Henry, why the hell didn't you go with Ella to Wonderland?" Henry: "We've been through this. I'm being responsible, I have to earn money to-" Emma: "You know damn well your mother and I have no problem with the two of you living here. This is your home." Regina: "And it'll be here waiting for the both of you when you return." (Henry looks from Regina to Emma and back before throwing up his hands and leaving the table.) Henry: "You guys don't get it." Emma: (Standing:) "No, Henry, it's you who doesn't get it! (Pointing:) Ella is out there right now looking for her mother. You more than anyone know what that's like and instead of going with her, you're what, working day and night saving money for the future? Don't you see? Every moment that you're not out there is a moment you're allowing to slip through your fingers." Henry: (Shaking his head:) "It's just not that simple." (He leaves.) Emma: "He needed to hear it." Regina: (Nods:) "I agree one hundred percent, but I'm glad you're the one who said it." Emma: "Yeah, I know you hate to play the bad cop with him." Regina: (Smiles:) "But I do so love when you play it with me." (Emma smiles despite herself and begins clearing the plates from the table.)

Wonderland. (Lead by Silvermist, Ella and Will continue to fly over the lake.) Will: “I must admit, I do enjoy the flying.” Silvermist: “You always did.” Will: “For what it's worth, Sil, I enjoyed some of the other bits as well.” Silvermist: (Turns in mid air:) “Not nearly as much as I'm going to enjoy this.” (Silvermist points her wand at Will and he immediately starts falling.) Will: “Whoa!” Ella: “Will!” Silvermist: “I can't tell you how long I've been waiting for that.” Ella: “How could you!” Silvermist: “Trust me. He deserved it.” Ella: “But we have to get him! He can't swim!” Silvermist: “Sorry. No detours.” Ella: “Oh, for goodness sake!” Silvermist: “Ooh!” (Ella purposefully takes a dive towards the water. Landing beside Will, Ella grabs him and pulls them to safety. Climbing to the top of a small island, they stop to catch their breath.) Ella: “What did you do to that fairy?” Will: “What did I do to her? She just tossed me into the bloody lake!” Ella: “Which you clearly deserved. Now we're stuck in the middle of nowhere, all because you broke a fairy's heart.” Will: “Well, she shouldn't have given it away in the first place.” Ella: “People can't help falling in love, Will.” Will: “Sure, they can. You just sneak out in the middle of the night, grab your trousers, your keys, and don't ever look back.” Ella: “Is that what you do? Should I warn Tiana about her future?” Will: “This isn't about me, Ella. If it were, I'd be sat back at home, with Tiana, happily watching the telly. Look, all I'm trying to tell you is, you've got this picture of your mum in your mind, these perfect little memories of how things were. But maybe that's just how they were for you.” Ella: “It wasn't like that. And if you really believe that, what are we doing here?” Will: “This is your quest, Ella, not mine.” (Frustrated, Ella turns away from Will, staring longingly at the shore.) Ella: “We're never gonna make it there. It's miles and miles away.” Will: “True. This is a bit of a setback, I'll give you that. But I'm sure we'll find another way.” Ella: “How?” Will: “Give me a minute. (Ella turns back to face him:) Two minutes.” Ella: “We don't have two minutes, Will. (Stands:) We need to get there today!” (Ella stamps her foot causing their little island to move violently, shaking them off back into the water.) Will: (Clinging to the island:) “What the bloody hell was that then?” Ella: “I don't know.” Will: “What kind of an island is this?” (They climb to the top again.) Ella: “This isn't an island.” Will: “What?” Ella: (Draws her sword:) “Hold on tight.” Will: “Tight? To what?” Ella: “Anything.” (Ella turns and leaps from the island.) Will: “Ella!” (After a long moment, Ella rises into the sky sitting astride the back of an enormous creature’s head.) Ella: (To the sea turtle:) “I’m sorry, did that tickle?” Will: (Amazed:) “A turtle?” Ella: “I wonder if you would be so kind as to give us both a lift to shore? (The turtle lazily nods its head:) Good boy. Now go!” (Will makes himself comfortable as they ride the enormous turtle across the lake.) Camelot. Past. Hall of Ceremonies. Night. (Uther is knighting new soldiers.) Uther: “Arise Sir Vidor, Knight of Camelot. Arise Sir Caradoc, Knight of Camelot. You have been accorded a great honour. But with that honour comes great responsibility. (While Uther speaks, an armoured figure approaches the main gates and dispatches two guards:) From this day forth, you are sworn to live by the knights’ code. You have pledged to conduct yourselves with nobility, honour, and respect. Your word is your sacred bond.”

(Outside, another guard is easily dealt with and the figure continues into the castle. The entire court turns to face the door at the sound of sword fighting outside. The armoured figure enters. The newly made knights of Camelot draw their swords as Arthur steps forward. The armoured knight drops their gauntlet in front of Arthur, who picks it up.) Arthur: “I accept your challenge. If I’m to face you in combat, do me the courtesy of revealing your identity.” (The knight removes their helmet to reveal a wealth of long blonde tresses.) Morgause: “My name is Morgause. I am here to fight for the freedom of the Lady Morgana who as we speak is being held captive in the dungeons of this castle by order of her father, King Uther.” (The court erupts into appalled murmurs at this revelation as Uther glares at Morgause.) Morgana's Chambers. Later That Night. (Freshly released from the dungeons, Morgana stands at her window, watching Morgause while she practices with her sword in the main square.) Guinevere: “Who is she? Why would she challenge Arthur? It seems no one’s ever heard of her.” Morgana: “I feel as if I’ve met her somewhere before.” Guinevere: “Really? Where could you know her from?” Morgana: “I don’t know.” Guinevere: (As Morgana continues to watch:) “She killed five guards.” Morgana: “Then Arthur should not underestimate her.”

Storybrooke. Present. Swan-Mills House. (After putting it off for months, Emma and Regina finally sit down to sort through some of the gifts they received after Maria was born.) Emma: "I think we might just have got something from everyone in the united realms." Regina: "If not, I'd definitely say it was close." Emma: "Clothes, toys, rattles. Half this stuff Maria's already grown too big for." Regina: "Which is why we're finally doing this. We have to bag up everything that's too small, too dangerous, (Throws a toy catapult into the 'reject' pile:) or just plain hideous." (Regina holds up a lime green baby-grow which Emma frowns and shakes her head at and it too finds itself sailing across the room into the pile.) Emma: "Please don't tell me we have to write and thank each person for their 'lovely, thoughtful gift'?" Regina: "Well, that would be the responsible thing to do." Emma: "So what does that mean we're going to do?" Regina: (Chuckles:) "Relax. I already sent the thank you cards." Emma: "You did?" Regina: "Yes. I used a modified tracking spell to find out who sent us what and then enchanted each card to go to the right person. I sent them at night so people wouldn't be overcome by the sight of hundreds of letters flying through the air. I got the idea from those ridiculous Harry Potter movies you make us watch." Emma: (Smiles:) "I love magic. And you, of course. Just the thought of writing that many cards... (Shivers:) The only person who would possibly enjoy that is-" Snow White: (Entering with Maria in her arms:) "There's nothing wrong with being polite, Emma. As a member of the royal family, I was taught manners and etiquette by my mother at a very young age." Emma: (To Regina:) "Have I thanked you lately for casting that curse? (Regina laughs. At Snow's stony expression:) Oh come on, Mom, it was a joke." Snow White: "Hm. Well it's just as well I'm here to teach Maria about her royal duties."

Regina: "Snow's right. (At Emma's look:) Oh, not about whatever she just said, I'd stopped listening by then. No, what I meant is that it seems a little ungrateful to accept all these gifts without giving something in return." Emma: "I know what you mean. The people of Dun Broch have just gone through hell and yet they're still out there, laughing and singing together. It's a very festive atmosphere down by their camps, despite everything." Snow White: "That's it!" Regina: "What's 'it'?" Snow White: "A festival! Guinevere and I were talking only yesterday about how to take everyone's minds off their troubles. A festival is just what we need! There'll be games and competitions and food and wine and oh, this will be so much fun!" (Watching Snow take Maria upstairs, then returning her attention to the reject pile, Emma grimaces.) Emma: (Turning to Regina, giving an exaggerated yawn.) "Do you think we can finish this some other time?" Regina: "No need. (Regina waves her hand and the messy reject pile is replaced by several trash bags marked 'donate':) There. Now do you think you can fit all those in your car?" Emma: (Beams, holding her arms wide:) "My brilliant wife." Regina: (As Emma wraps her arms around her:) "Just make sure they're all cleared out by tomorrow morning." Emma: "Your wish is my command." (Lifting Regina off her feet, Emma spins them in a circle, delighted that their task is over.) Regina: "Careful, Emma, there's not enough- (Catching her foot on the leg of the sofa, Emma stumbles backwards, Regina in her arms, onto the pile of trash bags:) ...room.” Emma: (Smiling up innocently:) "At least I landed on something soft." Regina: (Chuckles, then leans down to kiss her wife:) "Mm, so did I." Camelot. Past. Tournament Grounds. (Uther enters with Morgana by his side. At the earliest possible moment, Morgana takes her hand away from his and shares a smile with Guinevere. Arthur stands waiting while Morgause enters the arena.) Uther: “The fight is by the Knights’ Rules. And to the death.” (Uther takes his seat.)

Arthur: “I’m offering you a final chance to withdraw. I suggest you take it. (Morgause merely stares at him:) Then you leave me no choice.” (Confidently forgoing his helmet, Arthur twirls his sword a few times and the fight begins. Arthur quickly catches Morgause on the arm, but allows her to pick up her sword to the cheers of the crowd. Retrieving her sword, Morgause attacks with renewed vigor, blocking Arthur’s strikes and knocking him to the ground. Standing over him, Morgause presses her sword to Arthur’s chest.) Morgause: (Removing her helmet:) “Do you yield, or shall I run you through? (Breathing heavily, Arthur glances toward the dais:) You would rather fight on to keep the Lady Morgana in chains than to see her free?” Arthur: “But Morgana is already free.” Morgause: “Not yet she isn’t. So I ask again, do you yield?” Arthur: (Nods:) “I so yield.” (Morgause lowers her sword and extends her hand. Taking it, Arthur allows himself to be pulled to his feet. Walking over to the dais, Morgause gives a curt bow to Uther as he stands.) Morgause: "Morgana goes free." (Morgana watches with interest as Morgause leaves the grounds. Uther glares at Arthur before making his exit.)

#sq #swanqueen #swan queen

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panharmonium · 5 years ago

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why are you being like this?

people i’ve met...they’re not like you. they don’t care. i don’t matter.

don’t ever think that. we all matter.

i have to talk about merlin in ‘the hollow queen,’ which is an episode i really do appreciate, despite the fact that it’s part of the enchanted!gwen arc, which isn’t my favorite.

the usual disclaimer applies: i am doing this rewatch because i never finished season 5. i don’t know how this show ends. if you are reading this and want to engage with me, please be gentle and avoid spoilers for the last four episodes of this season - i appreciate you all very much for protecting my very late discovery of this show! <3

and now, to the point, which is this:

merlin looks happier walking around with this “druid” kid in the woods than he ever does in camelot at any other time this season.

and granted, maybe “happy” isn’t quite the right word to use, because "happy” for merlin now doesn’t even come close to what it was even just two seasons ago - but there is this quiet enjoyment to what he’s doing. there’s a contentment. he smiles a lot in these scenes, when we can practically count on one hand the number of times he’s smiled in episodes 1 through 7. he’s smiling when he shows up in the woods and tosses daegal a packet of breakfast, when daegal insists that his arm doesn’t need treating, when they’re sitting on the log talking about gaius, when merlin tosses him the extra apples - even when merlin is showing him how to bandage his leg, after merlin has already been betrayed to morgana and subsequently rescued.

i think there’s something to be said about this, in terms of where merlin is in season 5 vs where he actually wishes he was. in terms of what he’s doing, and what he actually enjoys doing. in terms of what he has to be, and what he could be, if he were only given the space.

this episode really makes me think, but i’m not sure i’m going to be able to articulate my thoughts in a way that makes sense. it’s just - the thing that this episode makes so clear is that - merlin is so obviously gifted at other things than his mandate to ‘make sure arthur doesn’t die,’ and he so obviously has other things that he cares about, things that his “mission” has made it impossible for him to pay enough attention to. for example - he’s forced to spend all his time and energy protecting a regime that hates him, and there are a lot of downsides to that, but one of them is that he hardly ever gets to connect with his own people. and merlin so obviously cares about them, like - every time he comes across someone who is the slightest bit like him - freya, little mordred, gilli, this new kid daegal - he feels an automatic sense of responsibility for their safety, an automatic kinship with them. he wants to help them. he belongs with them. but it has always been difficult for him to help them the way he wants to, just by virtue of his situation. and in season 5, it’s doubly hard, because he just doesn’t feel like it’s within his mandate anymore.

merlin in season 5 has no room in his life for anything besides ‘make sure arthur doesn’t die.’ and even before season 5, his life had been slowly constricting around him, until it couldn’t accommodate anything other than his “destiny.” but merlin’s commitment to that destiny has stolen so much away from him, so many opportunities - and it’s easy to forget that his life could be more. that he has more to offer than just ‘make sure arthur doesn’t die.’ merlin forgets it himself - after all, he initially resists going to help daegal’s sister because he just doesn’t feel like he can. he doesn’t feel like he can fit this into his life, however much he wants to. he can’t leave arthur alone.

but once he’s out in the woods, he’s so much more...at ease. he’s happy to sit and patch up this kid’s wounds and talk to him about living in camelot with gaius. he’s happy to give this kid all of the apples he has in his bag. he gets a kind of quiet fulfillment from walking this kid through bandaging a leg wound and telling him he’s done it well. he laughs when this hapless young person walking next to him is snapping his fingers at bugs like, “if i catch this fly, i’m going to eat it.”

this episode makes it so clear that merlin has gifts outside of ‘making sure arthur doesn’t die.’ he’s become a studied healer, for all that he keeps claiming “i’m not a physician.” he’s a born teacher - an absolute natural. he has an obvious gift for connecting with people, and he even more obviously loves doing this kind of work - it’s something that comes easily to him. it makes him happy. it fulfills him. this - traveling to help someone who is ill, encouraging a self-hating young kid to discover the good he can do in this world, teaching someone to do something as simple as bandaging a wound - this is work he can feel good about.

i don’t think merlin always feels good about what he’s doing in camelot.

he feels that what he’s doing in camelot is important, yes. he feels that what he’s doing in camelot is necessary. he also feels that what he’s doing in camelot is going to end up killing him, one day, and that if his visions are true and things keep proceeding the way they’re going this season, then all his pain and sacrifice might ultimately come to nothing.

merlin loves camelot. he wants arthur to live. he wants all his friends to thrive. but he also wants to be helping people - his people, in particular, and that is the one specific thing his mission in camelot prevents him from doing. he’s supposed to be doing it by helping arthur, or so people keep telling him, but it doesn’t feel like that, sometimes. how many years has it been, for so little to have changed?

i don’t think that feels good for him. it’s the same inherent contradiction he’s faced since he first arrived in camelot and stumbled into uther’s service. the cognitive dissonance is the same. he has an externally imposed responsibility to arthur, and an intrinsic desire to help his own people, and he doesn’t feel like he can fulfill both of these demands at the same time.

it’s easy to forget, because of the omnipresence of the legend, and because of the entire premise of the show, that merlin is more than his duty to protect arthur. that merlin was somebody before he met arthur, somebody who already had thoughts and ideas and imaginings about where he might go in this world, about what his life might be, about what mattered to him. it’s so easy to forget that he was a whole person long before he came to camelot, that he continues to be a whole person, whether arthur is present or not.

it’s...a hard feeling for me to put into words, but i think the closest i can get to explaining it in this particular episode is with the smallest thing, which is when merlin gives daegal both of the apples, and daegal says “don’t you like them?” and merlin replies, “they’re my favorite.”

it’s such a simple little thing, that, but it just - opens up a door to something you’ve never had reason to think about before. apples are merlin’s favorite fruit.

and it hits you then, what you normally aren’t expected to remember, that merlin is a whole person, one who exists outside the context of his mission, who existed long before he ever came to camelot, who continues to exist in all his glorious fullness even as “destiny” tries to hammer his existence into this one single shatterpoint. every tiny thing that makes up a person - all the beautiful, innumerable things that make each and every one of us so impossibly singular and irreplaceable, unique among billions - all of this was in place, long before merlin ever came to camelot. he has always been somebody, a whole somebody, somebody whose favorite fruit is apples.

merlin is more than his duty to arthur pendragon. he has always been more than that. he existed before he met arthur, and he continues to exist now, on his own merits, as richly whole and perfectly individual as any of his compatriots in camelot. he loves books. he hates hunting. he can’t hold his liquor. he gets hiccups when he eats too fast. he has a favorite pudding gaius makes for him. he has a grudge against the royal cook. he can’t keep his own room clean. he has always had hopes, dreams, wonderings, plans, things he’s curious about, things he’s afraid of, things more mundane than ‘i might fail at fulfilling my destiny’ - things like ghosts, or leeches, or giant naked rats that eat you alive. he has always had likes, dislikes, pet peeves, favorite sounds, least-favorite tastes, places he likes to go in the hour before supper when he’s supposed to be doing chores. he has a favorite memory of ealdor. he has a side he prefers to sleep on. he has a leather bracelet he’s worn on the same wrist for years. these things were true before he came to camelot, and they are still true now, even when the universe doesn’t want him to remember it.

he deserves a life of his own. he deserves better than a life that only exists for someone else’s sake. we can see, in this episode especially, how good he is at other things - at teaching, at healing, at connecting with people and helping them feel better about themselves and find their place in the world. we can see how...therapeutic, it is for him, to be doing work he can believe in. how much more relaxed he feels, in those brief scenes in the woods, when he is allowed to be out doing what he wants to do, when he is allowed to be in community with his kinfolk, when he isn’t hiding. when he is allowed to help people - his people - as opposed to drowning himself in the unending, merciless sea of suffering and fear that camelot has become for him.

it isn’t right, that he can’t have a life that makes him happy, a life that honors all of his existence, not just the bits of him that work to make sure arthur doesn’t die. merlin deserves a life where he can be more than just a ready sacrifice on the altar of albion’s future.

he deserves a life where somebody knows that apples are his favorite fruit.

#the once and future slowburn #meta #sorry folks #i know this is long #but i finally caught up to where i left off #and i am just...feeling uncomfortably emotional right now #about merlin #merlin the character i mean #just #i hate watching how much pain he is in this season #how much he has changed from the first time we met him #how terribly sad he has become #and here's me now staring down the prospect of the last four episodes #having this awful feeling #that it isn't going to go well #that he isn't going to get his good ending #which...#i don't know #i have never wanted a character's happiness so badly #all the fandoms i've been in; all the favorite characters i've loved -#i've never wanted any of them to get the happiness they deserve quite as much as i want it for merlin #something about him #something about the fact that the only thing he has ever wanted is to be seen and loved #how can you not give that to him?#how can you not give him such a basic fundamental thing #after all this terrible trouble #how can you look at this young face and say 'not for you. not ever'#but maybe i'm wrong #i hope i'm wrong #;_;

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schoolastica · 4 years ago

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Ships in the night, part 1

My fic is also on AO3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/19266412

Like ships in the night You keep passing me by We're just wasting time Trying to prove who's right

December 2th, 2005- St. Mary’s Hospital.

Morgana couldn’t believe that she was holding her tiny little girl in her arms for the first time. She couldn’t believe that a tiny human being was nested in her until this day and that now it was fully formed and ready for this world. The baby was barely a day old, all wrinkle-soft skin, eyes yet wide shut and dressed in a pink blanket. She was perfect, she smelled perfect, and Morgana was going to be the best mother to her daughter, better than her own, and she was going to protect this baby from everything….and everyone.

-What are you going to name her? - asked Gwen, who was on the very uncomfortable chair beside Morgana since the beginning of the labor.

-I was thinking about Elizabeth? - said Morgana, looking over to Gwen, who made a face at hearing the name- C’mon, it’s not that bad!

-No, it’s just too common for a Pendragon. - said Gwen, laughing. Witch made Morgana chuckle slyly

- Thanks for being here Gwen. - Morgana’s eyes saddle filling with water. Her only companion had been Gwen, her elder sister Morgause had went to France to pick up Morgana’s mother, Vivienne, so they could see the baby. Morgana’s father was coming from his business trip.

- Where’s Arthur? - Morgana asked Gwen. She appreciated Gwen dearly, and she tried to make herself stronger, but she wanted her family with her so bad.

- He’s……. coming from the office, you know how the traffic can be in December. - Gwen seemed eager to change subjects, almost as if she was hiding something.

A chilling thought passed by Morgana's head.

- He’s not searching for Merlin, isn’t he? - Morgana’s voice had a dreadful tone. Gwen got up from her chair and started picking up Morgana's stuff from the room to start packing up. It looked like she was hidden, Gwen was incredibility easy to read. - Gwen? - Morgana asked again.

- Arthur and I both think that Merlin has the right to see his daughter- Gwen said while trying (and failing) to look busy

Morgana’s memory took her back to the time where she also thought that. A time where Merlin was such a sweet, caring young boy, with wide blue eyes and a precious smile. This time has passed, the only good remaining was in her arms right now, sleeping peacefully.

- Alright, but only if Arthur finds him….

Gwen smiled at that and stopped packing to come near Morgana and take the baby from her. Gwen held the baby enough time for Morgana to change clothes with some help from the hospital nurses that came by at the right times.

When Morgana came back to her bed, Arthur entered the room. It was visible that he was useless when his wife didn’t sleep in the house with him. His clothes were rippled, his hair was messier than normal. It looked like he barely slept. He came in holding a pink balloon written: "IT'S A GIRL" and a bouquet of red roses in his other hand. He came in alone.

- Here, this is for you – He handled the bouquet of roses to Morgana, smiling – For the mommy and this- he turned to the baby in Gwen’s arm- is for my new niece- He handed the balloon to Gwen as if the baby was going to take the balloon.

Morgana and Gwen laughed at this.

- That’s not how it works, love- Gwen said- Leave the balloon and sit down to take the baby.

Arthur did as he was told almost in a trance, he held the baby near his heart, watching every corner of her face as if she was going to disappear.

- How could this beauty come from Merlin and Morgana, I could never know- He whispered to Gwen, almost involuntary and instantly feeling guilty.

- And did you find him? - Morgana inquired- Merlin, I mean.

Arthur changed a glare with Gwen before answering.

- Gaius finally got him into rehab- Arthur tried to smirk a little- So that a good thing, right?

Morgana nodded. It was for the best. Arthur was still holding the baby as she was going to break.

- Have you decided on the name yet? – Arthur questioned.

- Please, don’t go for Elizabeth. - Gwen joked.

- Ew, not Elizabeth, Morgana! - Arthur shared the fun on that.

- No, it was just a thought – Morgana laughed at them- ……. Her name is Wynn.

……………………………………………………………………………………………

June 13th,1991- Pendragon Mansion, Central London.

Morgana’s 13th birthday started epically. As usual, she woke up early and a pack with new clothing and shoes was waiting for her at the end of her bed. This was a normal present from her dad. Her birthday was the best one because it was right at the beginning of the summer in London, which meant all her friends from Wycombe Abbey hadn’t travel yet. This summer was even more special, it was the last summer before Morgause went to university and officially cut relations to her childhood….to the plays with Morgana, Arthur, and Merlin.

She dressed up in her new clothes and went to take her breakfast. As usual, Uther had already gone to work, but he always came back at night to take her (and only her) to a special dinner. But as usual, Hunith, her and her siblings’ nanny had made breakfast to her and Arthur and Merlin were already eating (on the disgusting way the boys

- Hey birthday lady, look at you- Hunith left the kitchen counter to fix her clothes better- I made an entire breakfast for you and Morgause was up until late fixing your all-girls party.

- Thank you, Hunith- Morgana sited down on the table. She didn’t want to tell Hunith that Morgause was up until late with her boyfriend. Arthur said a quick ‘happy birthday” to Morgana with his mouth full of food.

Merlin, however, as he seemed to do often, glassed at Morgana with a full-on adoration look. He almost always looked flushed and shy when he was near Morgana. Now he looked starstruck. Morgana smiled at him and Merlin deeply blushed.

The rest of the day passed normally. Arthur and Merlin were both 11 years old and the holidays had just begun, they were out of the house as soon as they could. Morgana stayed in, her friends from WA came by for lunch, where she would through a birthday lunch party on the party ballroom of, he mansion.

The lunch party was, indeed, very beautiful decorated, full of pink and purple balloons and great food by Hunith, and she got tons of presents. The ballroom was gigantic on a 13-year-old view and 25 pre-teen girls found it fascinating and so important. Morgause showed up to take "official" pictures and Morgana never had been as happy as this day.

The ballroom door was always enormous and Hunith insisted on having it opened, so during one of the moments where Morgana could catch a break, she noticed that both Arthur and Merlin where sited by the end of the stairs looking adoring to the girls. They went away as soon as Morgana frowned at them.

When the party came to an end the ballroom was incredibly dirty and Morgana was exhausted. She and Morgause took all of her presents up to her room in 3 trips to the ballroom. At the end of the last trip, Morgana finally went to take a bath and look at her presents until she could go dinner with Uther. However, she noticed that a present bag was on top of the present pile, that wasn’t that before. She took the pack and opened it, revealing an old looking notebook with leather covers and yellow pages. Inside, it was written:” The story of Princess Morgana, and how she dominated all the dragons from the country of Albion” by Merlin Emrys. This was in Merlin's handwritten. Morgana never has gotten a better present.

……………………………………………………………………………………………

Morgana sends a photo of Wynn to the rehab center when she's 4 months old. She never gets an answer-back.

……………………………………………………………………………………………

Like you watched at fourteen as it went down the drain And pops stayed the same and your moms moved away

Morgana vowed that she would never be like her mother. She remembered that as har mother crawled Wynn in her arm. She recalled making this promise when she was 8 years old.

Vivienne Gorlois was a golden age French actress. She was born to be a diva, all blonde hair and brown eyes. The thoughts about marriage and children were thrown upon her and she wasn’t ready to take it. She met Morgause’s father at a Hollywood MET party, he was already married and in a lot of ways she only kept Morgause because she knew the man would hate it.

Uther fell for her as most people did: she was charming and had a French accent. They dated for over a year, enough time to have pictures in tabloids, to have a daughter and to Vivienne make Morgause’s father jealous. So, when Morgana was only 2 months old, Vivienne eloped with Morgause’s father (a huge scandal) and left her 2 daughters with Uther.

She was gone for 7 years and some months, send two postcards, one from Australia and one from Mexico. She wrote that she was traveling the globe, discovering herself, having the time of her life. Never once she wrote ‘I miss you” or ‘I love you’. The 7 years without her wasn’t nearly enough time to heal. Morgana and Arthur hadn’t known another mother beyond Hunith. In Morgause’s time with her, Vivienne only spoke French, but when she left Morgause was so traumatized that she never (never) spoke French again, she also only started calling Uther ‘Father” only 2 years ago.

She came back in 1986, on a Sunday, calm morning. Morgause, age 13, went to get the door and when she started to take a long time Uther went to get her with Morgana. It was just the strangest scenario; A beautiful woman by the door, surrounded by bags, asking “How are you honey?” and saying “I missed you so much’ while Morgause was catatonic. Uther made the first thing a parent do to protect their children; he went to the door and blocked the view from the girls and started to discuss with Vivienne.

Morgause ran to her room, locked it and didn’t came back. Morgana felt that she was numb, almost like she was an executor of her own life. She only remembers parts of that day. The thing she most remembers is Vivienne saying, ‘a Mother’s right” and this phrase being screamed a lot. At some point, her mom finally managed to enter the house and bring the bags with her. She looked at Arthur and said she knew him; everybody knew when Uther Pendragon has a child. She recalls Vivienne toying with her, siting her in her lap and combing her hair, talking fast about the world, he presents to the girls, how her parents forgave her, and she was going back to France, with her parents. She recalled Uther’s steel expression, saying ‘You don’t have the right!” and she is laughing at him.

Morgana didn’t say a word. The first time she felt like a puppet doll and she just couldn’t say anything. She got tons of presents, from every part of the world and Uther got the promise to hear from Vivienne’s lawyers. It was an amazing, scary experience.

It was worse for Morgause. She didn’t go out of her room. Uther took her dinner upstairs, got into her room and only came out when Morgause fell asleep. She also didn’t go to school on Monday and later that same week she went to a therapist.

Morgana would never be like her mom.

……………………………………………………………………………………………

The worst of everything was the tabloids. They made a scarcely when Morgan showed up in a maternity dress in the Paris Fashion Week 2005 with no partner. But she was strong and her clothes brand “Avalon’ had just been released. And when she came out of the Hospital, a sea of Paparazzi tried to take pictures of a 2 days old baby. Thank God that Arthur hired a security team. They spend a beautiful week in the Pendragons mansion, Uther prepared an entire nursery for Wynn and redecorated Morgana's room. His way of showing that he cared was spoiling his granddaughter rotten. Then Morgana went to her Penthouse in center London, where she had prepared Wynn's real nursery. She didn't release an official picture or the name, but Paparazzi took the baby's photos anyways and she then revealed Wynn’s name with an entirely new section of designed baby clothes with her name.

……………………………………………………………………………………………

Like ships in the night letting cannon balls fly Say what you mean and it turns to a fight Fist fly from my mouth as it turns south

August 11th,2007

Wynn's 16 months old when Morgana knows Merlin's out of the rehab and back to his home in Ealdor. She scented him another photo on Wynn's first birthday but she still got no response. Wynn Pendragon is perfect in all the possible ways. Her black hair is fluffy and tamed, she was the palest baby ever, with such smooth skin. She has dimples and an adorable nose and huge, deep blue eyes. She had Merlin’s lips and chin. And when she looks at Morgana, everything seems to make sense.

Merlin shows up when Wynn is 20 months old. He shows up at Morgana’s penthouse, he has a suit on, his hair is tamed, and he shaved. He looks positively sober and clean, and he’s holding a red rose bouquet in one hand and one bag in the other. Morgana lets him in, seriously, what she was supposed to do?

For a moment, she visualized all the possible scenarios. She saw her again at 8 years old, with her mom by the door and her sister in her room. And her father protecting them. Now, she’s looking at Merlin at her own home, staring at him for 2 straight minutes until she could find her voice. She thanked heaven for Wynn to be sleeping at her nursery.

Merlin was more handsome than ever. Last time she saw him (pregnant of 5 months, she went to see him in his old, cranky apartment to tell him that they would have a daughter), he was deadly skinny, dirty and just the rest of the clothes. She was staring at him too much; Merlin blushed and offered her the rose. Morgana wanted to get the rose, she did, but what she saw herself doing was slapping Merlin’s face. Hard.

Morgana was never a violent person, she never even raised her voice, she was an English lady. But when Merlin looked at her confused about the slap, she felt her blood boil. She remembered that feeling, the helpless feeling she felt when meeting Vivienne. But now she was not going to be toyed with. She was furious and nothing was going to stop her.

- What the hell Morgana?!

- How dare you…- She slowly got closer to him, the rose was on the ground (just like their relationship) and Merlin made some steps back with her fury. – How dare you to vanish for all this time and show up at my door, your asshole?

- Morgana….

- No, I do the talking- she interrupted him- I waited for you, God knows for how long- Now Merlin averted his eyes – Now you’re back…. clean. And like nothing has happened.

- I couldn’t come back while on drugs, Morgana!

- So now you’re 100% clean?

- I am.- Merlin sounded pound of himself.

Morgana gave him a dry, sarcastic laugh.

- Congratulations…So that qualifies you to meet the baby, hum?

- Drop the act Morgana, that’s not you. – Merlin said, looking put off.

- No, I act the way I see a better fit for my child!- She faced him, a hard expression on her face – And now your plan its probably to go to her room, make her love you and then leave her to mend her own heart.

- I had my excuses to not see her until now, but she’s our daughter….

- She’s MY daughter. I had her, I carried her for 9 months, I’m with her since her first day and I’ll be until my last day. Can you promise that?

Merlin looked unsure but started to slowly approach her. It was easy, she thought, to just forget what he did and fall back at his arms, but now she always had to think about her daughter first.

- I promise you, Morgana Fay Pendragon- Morgana looked deep into his eyes (he’s beautiful and trustful eyes)- That I changed and that I won’t abandon……your

Morgana's eyes were filled with tears. But not because of what Merlin thought it was.

- Yes, you will- Morgana gave a broken whisper – I know you better than yourself, and whenever you get scared you ran. But let tell me: More than half of the time being a parent is being scared. You get scared of streets, foods, high places, crowded places, and whispers in the night. You must be braver than ever being a parent.

- I will be…. I am being braver just to talk to you. Morgana, you know me well, do you think I want to be like my father?

Morgana seized his image again. She reflected on herself, on how amazed she had been when Vivienne had come for her. Both Morgana and Merlin had similar stories with parents, but at least Vivienne eventually came around. Merlin’s father, Balinor Smith, got Hunith in love and pregnant and then ditched her. He couldn’t be a father, not now, not with her. Merlin found him when he was 18, in a cottage near Kent. What he found there was the most heartbreaking thing: Balinor was happily married and had twin baby girls. To be rejected by a parent, to not even being wanted hurts. And Morgana could see that was not the case. He had gone through a rough time, but he was her, he wanted his child.

Morgana stepped out, freeing Merlin’s way to the nursery. He looked hopeful at the highest degree.

- Don’t even try to get on with me- She warned him- At this moment, she’s more than what you deserve.

The look on Merlin's face was of pure gratitude. Morgana watched as he went to Wynn’s nursery. Well, she thought to herself, anything is better than nothing.

How many of our parents seem to make it anyway?

#mergana #fanfic #merlin #morgana

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randomfandomfiction · 5 years ago

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Merthur Classics Pt.2

part one

the show may be over but you can wrestle the fanfic from my cold, dead, fingers

Destiny Calling by sophieisgod (17k, PG-13)

In which Merlin is guided by a force much greater than luck, Lancelot is excessively chivalrous, and Morgana is a very angry and confused young woman.

This is an Empire Records au! Miraculous!

Drugstore Flowers by lady_ragnell (5k, Not Rated)

Merlin starts to receive lovely gifts (and less-lovely flowers) from a secret admirer.

Laundry Letters by dysonrules (7k, Mature)

There’s no actual summary for this one, but it’s an adorable little college au with cute flirty notes, secret identities, and friends to lovers.

Fools of Us All by adelagia (11k, Explicit)

Merlin accidentally makes everybody in Camelot fall in love with him. Everybody except Arthur, that is.

Because pheromones.

After The Storm by orphan_account (18k, Explicit)

Merlin and Arthur spend one night together, but Arthur skips out on his duties and Camelot becomes overrun by Morgause’s soldiers. They lose the Keep, and are forced to flee. This is the story of how they survive the winter, and try to find each other again in the wreckage of their destiny.

(Slight canonverse!AU--set during S2. Morgana has discovered her powers but not turned evil, and has met Morgause but not joined league with her.)

So much angst!!! Pain!!! Enter at own risk!!!

But It’s a Good Refrain by lady_ragnell (23k, Not Rated)

Arthur doesn't care much about the popular radio program Dragon's Lonely Hearts until his ex-girlfriend calls in to slag him off and get advice. When he calls in and has an on-air argument with the host, it starts off more than he expected, including meddling friends, overinvolved fans, and maybe love.

A Bit Like Love by inadaze22 (24k, Explicit)

True love and soul mates are myths. Arthur's always believed that. Fate, however, has a different opinion on the matter, and Morgana happens to agree. Unfortunately, she's always right about these things.

”wanking” is an actual tag for this fic and it makes me ridiculously happy

Forever Love (The Round Table Remix) by hopenight (24k, R)

This is your typical, run-of-the-mill, totally average reincarnation (immortality included!) story…except it’s not. Arthur is immortal with a time limit hanging over his head. M. Emerson Gray is the latest rebirth without a clue. Except Emerson does have a clue, eccentricities, and a kickass store. Merlin is trapped in mirrors and remains very sarcastic. Lawrence is totally awesome but gets kidnapped. Galahad is having number-gasms. The knights get plastered and bemoaned the long lost days when they didn’t have to meddle in homoerotic love affairs. And Arthur? Arthur is just socially awkward and adorable. This is the story of two men falling in love while knowing the truth about the other (even if the other doesn’t know they know). The question is can they do it in the midst of craziness, crossdressing, and colossal insecurities? Well yes, they can. But the ride to the beginning of it all is heaps better than the story of the relationship itself.

Crash Into Me by faeryqueen07 (25k, Explicit)

Uther has been trying to get Arthur to settle down for quite some time, so when he mentions that they will be having dinner with another young woman, Vivian, Arthur decides that enough is enough. He asks Merlin to pose as his boyfriend and awkwardness ensues. But somewhere down the line, fiction becomes fact.

40 Days and 40 Fights by dayari (26k, PG-13)

High school AU. In which Arthur is (a) the best captain that the volleyball team has seen in ages, (b) too handsome for his own good, and also (c) decidedly not gay; although Merlin agrees with the first two, he's willing to bet that (c) is open for discussion.

Crash Into Me by mysecretashes (27k, Explicit)

At the end of their first year of university Arthur decides to take Merlin on a road trip, and holds on to the hope that before it's over they'll be more than just friends. Morgana decides she and Gwen are going to come along, and Merlin and Gwen decide they're both insane. Along the (admittedly short) road to true love there are roller coasters, flat tires, chocolate, sheep, pillow fights, food fights, keychains, and memories that will last a lifetime.

Heartbreak, Secret Friends, and Stupid Doodles by I_know_its_over (33k, PG-13)

Modern uni AU: Merlin has a secret crush on Arthur, who has no idea who he is. When Arthur has a bad break up, Merlin takes it upon himself to cheer him up. Secretly, of course.

From The Ashes by RandomSlasher (42k, Explicit)

When Merlin uses magic to save Arthur’s life, he is condemned to death, and Arthur is too late to save him. But when the grief-stricken prince, along with Morgana and Gwen, journeys to Ealdor to return Merlin’s ashes, a series of strange events leads them to believe the warlock may not be as dead as they thought.

As the summary would imply, there’s a wicked dosing of feelings in this!

(A Change) Would Do You Good by GeekLover (44k, T+)

Arthur is a pampered prince who has reached the point where he is tired of his father making every decision for him, including who to marry. When he is betrothed to the horrible Vivian he manages to convince his father to allow him to set off away from Camelot to "sow his royal oats."

His sister Morgana on the other hand decided that this would be the perfect opportunity to actually find himself another bride.

So along with his best friend and "bodyguard" Gwaine he heads to the small town of Ealdor. He's skeptical about finding true love here. But when he's robbed he meets an unlikely savior that could turn out to be exactly the person he was looking for.

A Beacon In The Dark by crimsonswirls, ZairaA (96k, Explicit)

In a society where people with magic are persecuted, Arthur is a lawyer who takes on a prominent murder case. The suspect is a sorcerer: Merlin, Arthur's former childhood friend, who vanished at sixteen when his magic was discovered. Now, ten years later, Merlin is a prostitute, and Arthur has to solve more than Merlin's secrets to save the man he still loves from execution.

A story about two friends, who after losing their hope, their innocence and their way, finally find each other again.

This is an incredible fic but please, please, make sure to read the warnings and the author’s notes!!! This fic isn’t for everyone and that’s okay!

History Books Forgot About Us by kermit_thefrog (length unknown, PG)

A modern AU. Arthur is the wealthy co-editor of Camelot Publications in London, run by his father. Merlin works at a surgery in Paddington. Worlds collide one rainy day.

Linked to part 7 because the masterlist of the other links is on this page!

#merlin #bbc merlin #merlin emrys #arthur pendragon #merlin classics #masterlists #merlin masterlist #long fic #fanfiction #fanfic #fic rec

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acearchivist359 · 5 years ago

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Sword in the Stone (But with Magic and Merthur)

I had a conversation with @smolfighttol (literally months ago but uk how writing is) as to what would have happened if Merlin revealed his magic to Arthur during Sword in the Stone, then of course I had to write it.

I also posted it on ao3 if people prefer that

Arthur awoke surrounded by trees and utterly confused. Looking down at himself, he found he no longer wore his armour but tattered and ill-fitting clothes. He thought back, his memories jumbled, and found he couldn’t remember how he had arrived in this position. He remembered Morgana attacking Camelot and stood in a panic. He grabbed his sword from where it was stuck in the ground next to him. His fighters instincts were reeling as he looked around, recognizing no one, until his eyes finally settled on Merlin’s sleeping form. He rushed over and kicked Merlin awake anxiously.

Merlin awoke to the feeling of someone kicking him. “You’d better have a damn good explanation for this, Merlin.” Arthur said lowly, attempting to be discreet. Merlin stared at him blankly, assuming the spell shouldn’t have worn off yet. Arthur began kicking him again, “Fine. Then I'll just carry on kicking you.”

“Arthur,” Merlin said scrambling to his feet. He inspected Arthur’s face and found no traces of the simpleton that had accompanied him the last few days. He breathed a sigh of relief, “You're back!”

“What do you mean “I’m back”?” Arthur looked at Merlin incredulously, but he found as usual that he was vaguely concerned as he teased Merlin, “You’re talking gibberish again.”

“Listen to me, please,” Merlin pleaded, exasperated. Arthur looked at him with concern as he continued, but Merlin was too caught up in his explanation to notice. “Camelot is lost. You were injured in an attack, you passed out. I had to get you out of there.”

“Where are we now?” Arthur asked, calmly taking in his surroundings more.

“We’re heading north,” Merlin explained, “To a safe haven, to Ealdor. Hopefully the knights will meet us there.” Merlin's voice softened a touch at the mention of his former home and Arthur almost smiled before realizing he had no idea of the situation they were in.

“Who are these people?” He asked, finally.

“They’re, er… smugglers,” Merlin said, sheepishly.

“Smugglers?!” Arthur exclaimed. Merlin shushed him quickly, looking around anxiously. “Alright, let's assume for one moment, you actually know what you’re doing,” Arthur said, quieter this time. “It doesn't explain why I look like the village idiot.”

“It’s the perfect disguise,” Merlin smiled, proudly, “No one would ever suspect you of being, you know… who you are.” He shrugged, innocently.

Arthur looked down at his clothes again, “I’m sorry, Merlin. I’m not going around looking like this.”

“You have to,” Merlin insisted, “You've got to stay in character.”

“You!” Someone called. Arthur stiffened again, his posture having relaxed as he spoke to Merlin. Merlin seemed to remain impassive as the smuggler spoke to him. “We leave as soon as the horses are watered.” The smuggler looked at Arthur, who was standing at Merlin’s side, “Explain it to the simpleton, would you?” The smuggler turned away and Arthur looked at Merlin, who smiled sheepishly before picking up Arthur’s sword. They started toward the smuggler's wagon and Arthur grabbed his sword back, defensively. There was no way he was going to unarmed and surrounded by smugglers. “Simpleton,” the smuggler, Tristan, called.

“He’s talking to you,” Merlin whispered, knowing Arthur was about to put up a fight.

“I don’t answer to that name.” Arthur argued, sharply. How disrespectful, he thought.

“In character,” Merlin reminded him. Arthur huffed. “Remember?”

The smuggler approached them looking at Arthur’s sword. “Impressive piece.”

Arthur glanced at Merlin, who looked at him pointedly. “Thank you, sir,” Arthur said putting on a stupid voice.

“May I?” Tristan asked. Arthur handed over his sword, reluctantly. He hoped Merlin knew what he was doing with these smugglers. “Magnificent. The only place you find workmanship of this quality is in the royal forge of Camelot,” Tristan levelled the blade at Arthur’s throat. “Tell me, how did you come by it?”

“I won it in a card game.” Merlin interjected, “Gave it to him as a present. He won't be parted from it,” Arthur was almost impressed at how smoothly Merlin lied to the smugglers . “Makes him feel safe.”

“I hope for your sake that’s true,” Tristan handed Arthur his sword back. Arthur took it dumbly, grumbling inwardly, pretending he didn’t know how to hold a sword. “I’d hate to think I was riding with a knight of Camelot.”

Arthur hugged his sword to his chest and put on a stupid voice again, “Aye.”

The blond woman at Tristan’s side giggled, “Knight of Camelot?” She scoffed, “Look at him.” Arthur was fuming on the inside, he was the King, their King!

“You’re right,” Tristan remarked, “The knights may be stupid, but they’re not that stupid.” Arthur wanted to protest but reminded himself of what would most likely happen to him and Merlin if they knew who he was, so he put on a stupid grin. Merlin ruffled Arthur’s hair, laughing along with Tristan and Isolde. He knew how hard it must be for Arthur to hear how people spoke of him and the knights.

“Pack your things, simpleton!” Merlin exclaimed loudly as they walked away.

“Call me that again and I’ll run you through.” Arthur muttered quietly to Merlin, fake smile plastered to his face. They both knew how empty the threat was, but neither commented on it.

“Don’t worry, sire,” Merlin said sympathetically. He knew Arthur well enough to know Arthur would be upset by what the smugglers said. “I’m sure you won’t have to keep it up for too much longer.”

“How long?!” Arthur exclaimed, exasperated. As he said that a smuggler walking by them collapsed, an arrow lodged in his back. Arthur grabbed Merlin’s shirt, instinctively, pulling him away from where the smuggler had stood. Another arrow landed in the tree next to Arthur’s head and he ducked, moving Merlin with him. Merlin didn’t have time to dwell on how he himself touched by the gesture as they ran to hide behind the smugglers wagon. Arthur started calling out orders. ‘Finally,’ he thought, ‘Now this I can handle.’

That night, Merlin and Arthur sat by the fire as Tristan and Isolde slept nearby. “You knew,” Arthur said finally, “You knew Agravaine was betraying me.” He thought back to the times Merlin had tried to warn him and felt guilty for not believing him. He had wanted to trust his uncle so badly. He was his only remaining family that, he thought, didn’t want to kill him for the throne, but Merlin had been right. He should have known there was no one he could trust more than Merlin.

“I couldn’t be sure,” Merlin said softly. He hated that he had been right. “But then, I did have my suspicions.”

“I feel like such a fool.” Arthur sighed, “I put such trust in him. All this time I was as blind to his treachery as Morgana.”

“You were deceived Arthur,” he knew as he spoke that statement wouldn’t make Arthur feel any better but he didn’t know what else to do. “That could happen to anyone.”

“Yet it keeps happening to me.” Arthur argued defeatedly, “I cared about these people. I… I don’t understand. What have I done wrong? Why do they hate me?”

Merlin knew Arthur wasn’t just talking about Morgana and Agravaine as he spoke and felt a twinge of pain at that fact. He thought back to watching Arthur and Gwen’s relationship grow and while he had tried to help them in the beginning, he had grown to be rather confusingly jealous and hurt by the end. He knew he no longer had feelings for Guinevere, that small crush had ended long before she had begun a relationship with Arthur. However he thought he couldn’t possibly have feelings for Arthur.

“No they don’t hate you.” Merlin said reassuringly, “They just… crave your power for themselves.”

“Perhaps,” Arthur shrugged, “Would they still want that power if I was the king my people deserve? Maybe Tristan is right-“

Merlin cut Arthur off swiftly, “Tristan was angry...” Merlin hesitated, glancing at Tristan and Isolde. He felt a pang of longing watching the two of them, “and afraid. He needed someone to blame, but it’s not you that’s to blame.” He shook his head, certainly.

Arthur felt uncertain but Merlin’s assurance eased him slightly. “You seem very sure about all this.” He worried he may seem weak for questioning this, his father certainly wouldn’t have, but in that moment Arthur simply wanted his friend’s advice. He knew, no matter what, that Merlin would tell him what he needed to do.

“All I know is that, for your many faults, you are honest and brave and true hearted,” Merlin paused slightly, weighing the idea of letting Arthur in on the destiny they shared, but ultimately deciding, “and one day you will be the greatest king this land has ever known.”

What felt like the weight of the world lifted from Arthur’s shoulders. He smiled softly, “Well… good to know I have the support of my servant at least.”

“I’m not alone,” Merlin said firmly, “Believe me.” He was glad to see Arthur smiling again, he felt as though it had been ages.

Merlin could not have been more relieved to finally arrive in Ealdor the next day. He had left Arthur, reluctantly, in bed inside his house to reunite privately with Guinevere. He had pointedly ignored the pang of jealousy that he felt while shutting the door.

“How’s she been?” Merlin asked his mother finally. For all his confusing jealousy, Merlin had spent a lot of time worrying about Gwen since she left Camelot. Though their friendship was not what it had once been, Merlin still cared for her very much.

“As well as can be expected,” Hunith answered softly, she too had grown fond of Gwen in the time she had spent in Ealdor. “But… a broken heart takes time to mend.” And if Hunith took note of the sad, knowing look on her son’s face, she didn’t say a word.

Merlin feels as though he’d been doused in cold water when he hears screams from within the village. “Agravaine.” He tells Hunith, rushing inside, “He’s found us.”

“Any suggestions?” Tristan asks, once Arthur has his chainmail back on (possibly the fastest Merlin has ever been).

“Round the back.” Merlin instructs them hurriedly, rushing them to the back door of his small house. He lets them leave before turning back towards where Agravaine is and casting a spell, which sends a cart rolling towards him.

“There!” Agravaine shouts, “Get them!”

The group of them ran through the woods, Tristan supporting Isolde, as fast as they could. They approach the cave tunnels and Merlin shouted, “I’ll cover our tracks, you keep going!” He turned away from then, running again. He shouted for Kilgharrah in dragon speak until he spotted the Southrons. He headed back towards the caves with no sign of Kilgharrah. He heard the beginnings of a dragon’s roar as he ran into the caves, smiling to himself.

“Did you lose them?” Arthur asked as soon as Merlin caught up to them. Merlin thought it was vaguely inconsiderate, in a usual Arthur sort of way, but Arthur was mentally scanning Merlin over for injuries from the moment he could see him.

“It’s safe.” Merlin replied, imagining Kilgharrah swooping down over the Southrons.

“You sure?”

“Do I look like an idiot?”

“Yes.” Arthur shrugged, finally concluding that Merlin was in fact perfectly fine.

“Doesn’t change does it?”

“Which way now?” Merlin looked around confusedly before shrugging to himself. “I thought you said you grew up in these tunnels?” Arthur pressed.

“I did,” Merlin protested, “Just-- it could be that way…”

“Or it could be that way.” Arthur finished exasperatedly.

“Yes.”

“That’s very reassuring.”

They eventually decided which path to take and it wasn’t long before they stopped again, hearing movement behind them. “I thought you said we’d lost them.” Arthur said quietly, there was a small comfort in poking fun at Merlin, like falling into a familiar routine.

“I thought I had.” Merlin replied, which just made Arthur feel uneasy again.

“It won’t take long for them to catch us,” Tristan interjected.

Merlin nodded his head decidedly. He knew he was the only one who could take on the following army of Southrons and survive it. “I’ll go back.”

Arthur’s.

Heart.

Stopped.

“What are you gonna do?” He forced out, trying to make Merlin stop and stay with the group.

“Create a diversion.” Merlin shrugged, almost casually, and Arthur reached out to stop him. The move was completely instinctual, his whole being screaming for Merlin to stay with him.

“It’s too risky.”

“I know these tunnels and Agravaine doesn’t. You keep going.” And with that Merlin handed Arthur his torch and made his decision. He may not have known what it was that he felt for Arthur but he knew that if he was going to risk his life for something, Arthur would be it. Every time.

“Merlin…” Arthur wanted to say something more, something heartfelt but settled for, “Don’t do anything stupid.” And hoped it was enough.

“Me?” Merlin laughed in an impossibly bright, ever so Merlin-like way, before taking off into the tunnels. Arthur stood there for a moment, conflicted as he’d ever been, before following after the others.

Merlin found the Southrons easily, with only a little magical help, and stopped to take a breath before turning the corner to face them. “Oh hello!” He exclaimed brightly, causing them all to look at him, before taking off down one of the other tunnels. Merlin ran until he felt like his lungs would collapse before hitting a dead end. Swearing internally at himself, he stopped to catch his breath before Agravaine and the Southrons approach from behind him.

“Merlin. Merlin?” Agravaine repeated when Merlin doesn’t turn to face him. Merlin turned, a pit in his stomach. He knew now that either they made it out of these tunnels or he did and if they made it out, they’d make it to Arthur. Merlin couldn’t risk that. “Where’s Arthur?”

Merlin shook his head sadly. “Be careful.” He warned.

Agravaine looked confused. “What are you talking about?” He asked impatiently, “Where’s Arthur?” Merlin shifted his feet, he knew what he needed to do but that didn’t mean he wanted to. “Tell me. Now.” Agravaine ordered, “Or I’ll have to kill you.”

Merlin shook his head sadly. He was out of options. “I don’t think so,” Merlin said, decidedly. Agravaine took a step towards him and Merlin’s eyes flashed, sending them all flying backwards. He stepped forward to inspect them and Agravaine woke, gasping. He sat up, looking at Merlin. Merlin lowered his head, then changed his mind and looked Agravaine in the eyes. He fixed him with a noble look he’d seen Arthur give his enemies many times.

“You have magic.” He stated obviously.

“I was born with it.” Merlin said the words with so much force that the cave seemed to fill with it. He found a small sense of relief in saying it out loud finally after so long.

Agravaine stood, watching Merlin, and all of the sudden his face seemed to light up. “So it’s you,” he said quietly, “You’re Emrys.”

“That is what the druids call me.” Merlin ground out.

“And you’ve been at court all this time? At Arthur’s side.” He started laughing, almost hysterically, “How you’ve managed to deceive him. I am impressed Merlin.” Merlin shuffled again. “Perhaps we’re more alike than you think.”

Agravaine reached a hand out to Merlin, but Merlin raised his hand as though to strike him with magic. Agravaine’s smile faded, he gestured submission and Merlin lowered his hand. Agravaine whipped a knife out with his other hand to attack Merlin, but Merlin was faster. His hands shot out, his eyes flashed and Agravaine was blasted backwards. He landed, eyes open, and lay there motionless. Merlin knew it was over. He drew a deep breath before turning and walking away, feeling like his heart had turned to stone.

Arthur stopped and turned to look down the tunnel behind him, feeling as though his whole being is being pulled in that direction.

“What are you doing?” Tristan asked him impatiently.

Arthur shushed him, listening for what caused what he assumed was just his battle instincts. The rocks around him shook and a cold hand began to claw at his racing heart. “Merlin.” Arthur blurted, without even meaning to.

“He knows the tunnels,” Tristan said reasonably, trying to urge Arthur forward, “He’ll find his way.”

But Arthur didn’t hear him. He couldn’t shake the hollow feeling growing in his chest. He couldn’t lose Merlin. “I’m going back,” He said, walking past the others before they could say a word.

“For a servant?” Tristan exclaimed confusedly.

Gwen watched Arthur go with a knowing look, “You’re wrong about him.”

Arthur heard someone coming down the tunnel and readied his sword. “Merlin!” A rush of air seemed to fill his lungs, as though he could finally breathe. “Where have you been?”

Merlin hadn’t even realized Arthur was coming, everything seemed blocked. His blood was boiling and his chest felt hollow, though his heart was heavy and hardened. Upon seeing Arthur, almost running into him in fact, his senses began to come back to him. “Were you worried about me?” He asked, softening.

“No,” Arthur lied dumbly. He knew he had never felt more relieved in his life, but he’d never admit that to Merlin. The age old practices Uther had ingrained in him held true; he always told him that an emotional king was not a good king. “I was making sure we weren’t followed.”

“You came back to look for me,” Merlin pressed, teasing. He felt human again. His senses were coming back, and he slipped into the familiarity of Arthur’s friendship

“All right, it’s true,” Arthur sighed. The relief had overtaken him and his walls came tumbling down. This is Merlin, he thought, he could be real with Merlin. “I came back cause you’re the only friend I have and I couldn’t bear to lose you.” Arthur almost regretting saying it at all, but Merlin’s face softened and he knew he was okay.

Merlin felt as though he was on fire, his feelings coming back to him all at once. Arthur, he had done this for Arthur. He’d do it again if that’s what it took to protect him. “Really?” He questioned, pressing on further.

Arthur smiled softly before turning back down the tunnel. “Don’t be stupid,” he called over his shoulder. Their smiles could have lit the whole cave as Merlin followed Arthur, both of them filled with their own relief. Merlin stopped suddenly, stumbling, and Arthur laughed. He was unaware that Merlin had finally come to the most important realization of his life. The realization that would change his life forever, should it ever get out.

He loved Arthur Pendragon.

What was worse, in Merlin’s opinion, was the other realizations that accompanied the fact that he loved Arthur. The feeling he had felt seeing Gwen and Arthur had been jealousy, that he wanted nothing more than to tell Arthur how he felt, and even worse yet that if he told Arthur how he felt he would have to tell him about his magic.

“So, where now?” Tristan asked as they finally reached the other side of the mountain. They were a mess of various injuries, Arthur was holding his wounded ribs and Isolde was being almost entirely supported by Tristan.

“To the plains beyond the mountains.” Arthur said decisively.

“You sure?” Tristan questioned, “That’s Lot’s kingdom. He’s no friend of the Pendragons.” He looked at Arthur, quizzically.

“Well, maybe we could find somewhere here. A house where we could rest,” Gwen spoke up. She was clearly trying to take the blame off of Arthur and defend him subtly. It was so unsubtle, and such a terrible idea, that Merlin almost rolled his eyes.

“We’re fugitives,” Tristan stated, “A danger to anyone who harbours us.”

“He’s right,” Merlin spoke up, “We must travel back towards Camelot.” He glanced at Arthur, who had been avoiding his gaze for that exact reason.

“No,” he argued, “We need to keep going.”

“If we hold up in the Forest of Essetir, we’ll be safe,” Merlin reasoned, “At least for a while.”

Arthur knew Merlin was right, as always unfortunately, but he was afraid. Though he’d never have admitted it he couldn’t help but feel as though he had failed his people, he had let Morgana take the throne. He had trusted Agravaine even when Merlin, Merlin of all people, had told him not to. “No.”

“If anyone has survived this battle,” Merlin persisted, “That’s where they’ll be hiding.” Arthur finally caught his eye and Merlin looked at him reassuringly, but determinedly.

“I know which I’d do,” Tristan interjected, “You’re the king, Arthur. You’re our leader…”

“All right,”Arthur sighed, breaking his eye contact with Merlin, “Forest of Essetir it is.” Merlin stared after Arthur as he walked away.

When they had finally settled into the Forest of Essetir, Arthur set about helping Tristan to collect firewood. “Well well well, look at you.” Tristan spoke snidely after a moment of awkward silence, “First you go back to rescue your servant,” Arthur’s head was still spinning a little with the image that had rushed into his head when he had heard the noises in the cave. He wasn’t sure what to make of it. “Now you’re getting your hands dirty. But then again, why shouldn’t you? You’re just like everyone else. There’s nothing special about you, is there?” Tristan continued, landing on all the right buttons to push.

“Well, maybe you’re right.” Arthur conceded softly, “Maybe I don’t deserve to be king.”

“Well, that’s alright, cause you’re not.” Tristan said bluntly. Arthur almost dropped the wood he was carrying. “Not anymore.” Then he strutted off without another word. Arthur was really, truly reeling with it all. He tossed the wood aside, frustratedly, running his hands through his hair. He started walking, determined to clear his head. He barely heard Gwen calling after him until she grabbed his arm. He stopped abruptly and spun around to face her.

“Don’t.” Arthur exclaimed, and Gwen pulled back. “What happened in Ealdor was a moment’s weakness.” Gwen flinched back, “What you did to me… Everything I cherished between us, everything we had, it’s gone. That’ll never change.” On top of everything else, he couldn’t shake the feeling that had clung to him since that moment, that things with Gwen just didn't feel right anymore. He thought it was just betrayal, that he was still angry with her, but he slowly realized it was something deeper than that. He just couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

Merlin and Arthur were lounging by the fire that night and Arthur still couldn’t quiet the whirlwind happening in his mind. He crossed his arms as he sat, puzzled and saddened.

“Come on, I’ll take watch.” Merlin said, but it went unnoticed by Arthur. “Arthur, what’s the matter?” Merlin asked, and Arthur finally looked towards him. “Don’t listen to Tristan, he doesn’t know you.”

“I trusted the wrong people.” Arthur said, quietly.

Merlin shook his head, “They betrayed you. That wasn’t your fault.”

“No. I was a fool.” Arthur argued, “I misjudged everyone… my uncle… Morgana. Every decision I’ve made has been wrong.”

“You’re not.” Merlin argued softly, “You’re a worthy king.” Merlin knew this, of course, because he knew Arthur was really the “Once and Future King who will unite the lands of Albion” though he couldn’t tell Arthur why he knew that.

“I’m good with a sword,” Arthur lamented, “That’s all.”

Merlin felt so immensely sad for Arthur in that moment. Being Arthur’s manservant had given Merlin an exclusive look into the life of a crowned prince, a knight, and finally a king. He had always known there was an enormous weight on Arthur’s shoulders, and though he tried to ease it and help Arthur where he could it would never be enough. “Your people love you.” Merlin said, finally. As do I, he almost continued, before stopping himself.

“Most of them are dead,” Arthur replied, missing the almost startled look on Merlin’s face as he continued to brood. “Thanks to me.”

“No, most of them escaped,” Merlin said declared, “They’ll be here in the forest, I’m sure of that.”

Arthur didn’t want Merlin to be right though. Because if they were in the forest, Arthur would have to face them. “Well, if they are, they’ll have to find themselves a new king.” Arthur couldn’t bare to see disappointment in Merlin’s eyes too, so he got up and walked away. He could hear Merlin calling after him but he couldn’t face it.

When Merlin woke Arthur he had a solid plan formulated in his mind. Arthur would believe in himself again, Merlin was determined of that if nothing else. Talking to Kilgharrah the night before had given him an idea, for once, of what he needed to do.

“What?” Arthur asked, grumpily, at being woken up.

“There’s something I need to show you.” Merlin said. He turned and walked away and Arthur sat confused for a second before grabbing his sword and following him.

“This had better be good because this really isn't the time for one of your ridiculous games.” Arthur grumbled, following Merlin through the forest anyway.

“I was thinking about last night and how you were saying how you'd given up all hope, how you were a poor leader and a shoddy king,” Merlin replied, slipping once again into the familiar routine of teasing Arthur.

"Shoddy?” Arthur repeated, doubtfully

“All right, shabby."

“Thanks”.

“Well, it reminded me of a tale Gaius once told me,” Merlin started.

“Merlin, I'm really not interested in your favourite bedtime stories.” Arthur was tired, and grumpy, and he didn’t want to hear what he thought was going to be more of Merlin teasing him.

“For once in your life, just...listen.” Merlin sighed. Arthur held his hands up in surrender. Merlin continued “Many years ago, before the birth of the five kingdoms, this land was in an endless cycle of bloodshed and war, but one man was determined to end all that. He gathered together the elders of each tribe and drew up plans for the lands to be divided. Each would respect the others' boundaries, and drew it over the land as they saw fit. That man was Camelot's first king, ancestor to all that followed, including you, Arthur.”

“Bruta,” Arthur interjected.

“You know the story.”

“Yes, every child in Camelot does. Can I go back to bed now?” Arthur was growing impatient, though part of him knew that Merlin didn’t usually go on like this for no reason. He almost turned back to the camp, but Merlin kept walking and he kept following on instinct, if anything.

“No,” Merlin sighed again, “Because there's another part of the story that you haven't heard.

“Really?”

“When Bruta was on his deathbed,” Merlin continued, “he asked to be taken deep into the forest. There, with the last of his strength, he thrust his sword into a rock. If his lineage was ever questioned, this would form a test. Only a true king of Camelot could pull the weapon free.” Arthur stopped walking and stared at Merlin curiously.

“Are you making this up?” He asked abruptly.

“Of course not.” Merlin chuckled. He continued walking, leaving Arthur to try and figure out if he was lying or not. Arthur kept following him.

“All right. If it's true, why haven't I heard this story?” He asked, doubtfully.

“Well, history isn't really your strong point, is it?” Merlin chuckled again, teasing once again.

“And where is this rock?”

“Oh, it was lost many years ago during the Great Purge, but,” Merlin paused to look at Arthur, “I've managed to find it.”

“I've never heard so much rubbish in my entire life,” Arthur laughed, finally.

“Are you calling Gaius a liar?” Merlin laughed too, just a little.

“No, I'm calling you an idiot,” Arthur countered, finally sinking into the familiar as well.

“What's that then?” Merlin smirked Arthur followed Merlin's gaze and settled on the sword, stuck in the stone as Merlin had described. They walked closer to it and a crowd of Camelot knights and people came from the trees, surprising Arthur. Merlin smiled, his plan had worked. Arthur glanced back at him and caught sight of Merlin’s beaming proud expression. He wanted to keep that expression on Merlin’s face forever

“What the hell are you playing at?” Arthur questioned.

“I'm proving that you are their leader and their king,” Merlin said proudly.

“That sword is stuck fast in solid stone,” Arthur argued doubtfully, realizing Merlin’s plan.

“And you're going to pull it out.” Merlin said firmly.

“Merlin, it's impossible.”

“Arthur, you're the true king of Camelot.”

Arthur glanced back at the crowd of people watching them before looking back at Merlin. He knew from the look in Merlin’s eye that he wouldn’t back down. “Do you want me to look like a fool?”

Merlin bit back a retort of well yes, before continuing, “No, I'm going to make you see that Tristan's wrong; you aren't just anyone, you are special. You and you alone can draw out that sword.” Merlin, of course, believed in Arthur above anything,

Arthur drew his own sword and stuck it in the ground before glancing at Merlin. “You better be right about this.” He approached the stone slowly. He looked up at the crowd hesitantly, not wanting to disappoint them again, then placed both hands on the hilt. He tried to pull it up, but the sword wouldn’t move, just as he suspected.

“You have to believe, Arthur,” Merlin interjected. Arthur pulled at the sword again, arms shaking with effort, but still nothing happened. Merlin glanced at the crowd and saw them all watching Arthur intently. “You're destined to be Albion's greatest king.” Arthur let go of the sword, ready to give up, but Merlin spoke from behind him. “Nothing, not even this stone can stand in your way.” Arthur remembered the look on Merlin’s face when they had entered the clearing, he looked at the faces of his people, and he wanted to earn their pride. He positioned himself, placing one hand on the swords hilt and closing his eyes. “Have faith.” Merlin murmured.

Arthur lifted his chin, picturing their faces, Merlin’s face, and willed himself to believe. Unbeknown to him, Merlin’s eyes finally glowed and the sword was released from the stone. Arthur pulled it out and stared at it in awe.

The people watched, shocked, until Leon spoke up. “Long live the king!” He exclaimed. Suddenly the chant echoed through the clearing as Arthur thrust the sword into the air triumphantly. He glanced at Merlin, who smiled at him, and Arthur came to his own startling realization. He loved Merlin. He was a complete dollophead but he couldn’t do it without him and he loved him.

“What about the drawbridge?” Arthur asked, standing around with his knights.

“Well manned.” Leon replied.

“As are the northern gates.” Percival added, as though he had foreseen Arthur’s next question. Arthur almost swore in desperation.

“The battlements on the south side?” Arthur knew the castle better than anyone, he had lived there all his life, he played there, fought there, trained there. It was his home all his life, he knew it like the back of his hand. Unfortunately so did Morgana.

“Arthur, even if we can get inside, she has an army.”

“And we have what? A few hundred?” Arthur almost swore again but he steeled himself. This had to work. He would save Camelot. It was his home, they were his people.

“And they still outnumber us,”

“Yeah but only three to one.” Arthur argued stubbornly. Leon chuckled in the background. He had known Arthur the longest, he had seen that one coming from a mile away.

“And you think they’ll fight?” Isolde interjected, sceptically.”

“Well they’ll fight for Arthur.” Leon defended.

“It’s not me they fight for. It’s Camelot.” Merlin almost scoffed in the background.

“No Arthur,” Leon voiced the argument Merlin didn’t, “It is you that people love, and you that they will lay down their lives for. I know that I would ride into the mouth of hell for you.”

“And I.” Percival agreed. Tristan and Isolde exchanged surprised looks.

“And I.” Merlin voiced, causing Arthur to catch his eye.

A thousand words seemed to pass between them in that moment. It steeled Arthur’s resolve and strengthened everything he believed. He drew his sword, hardly breaking eye contact, “Into the mouth of hell it is.” He could do it, he hoped. He had his knights, and somehow more importantly he had Merlin. He wanted to believe that could be enough, so it would be.

Planning had taken its toll on Arthur. He was exhausted by the time nightfall hit, wandering around the camp almost aimlessly. His mind was a little fuzzy until Merlin jogged up behind him. “You all right?” Merlin's voice cut through the fog and cleared Arthur’s head.

“Yes.”

“Do you think there are too many of them?” Merlin questioned. Arthur was stubborn, Merlin knew better than anyone. He’d never admit his concerns to the knights, especially in front of Tristan, but Merlin knew they were there. He could see it in Arthur’s eyes as they planned.

“Southrons are men like you and me. Men we can fight. But Morgana…” Arthur shook his head, sighing, “Her power is so great and we’ve got nothing to answer it with.”

“I never finished Gaius’s story,” Merlin piped up. He wouldn’t let Arthur doubt himself, he’d make up a thousand old stories.

“Not now, Merlin, please.”

“Will you just listen?” Merlin put his hand on his hips, sighing. Arthur was too tired to argue with him in that moment. He knew Merlin wouldn’t be telling him this if it weren’t for a reason. Merlin believed in him, Arthur knew it but in that moment his need to hear it was crushing.

“When the sword was thrust into the stone, the ancient king foretold that one day it would be freed again at a time when Camelot needed it most. The man who freed it would unite the land of Albion and rule over the greatest kingdom the world has ever known. That man is you, Arthur.” Arthur’s brow furrowed and Merlin smiled softly. Gods how he loved him.

“You’re making this up.”

“Why would I do that? Your heads already as big as your waist.” Merlin chuckled. There was something in Arthur’s eye that made him continue, “I believe it though. And I believe in you. I always have.” Arthur's chest felt lighter and he revelled in it for a moment. Taking in the proud look in Merlin’s eye. He glanced at his sword, considering it before letting out a sigh.

“That may be true,” He took a shuddering breath, “But we’re still no match for her magic. We have only a few hundred men and no way to protect against her power. My father always taught me that magic was evil, and so were all those who practised it, and yet now it seems to be our only hope.” Suddenly it was all just pouring out of him. He was so tired. “Maybe magic isn’t evil, I’ve seen it be good, it’s the reason I’m even here at all. But then it also killed my mother. Maybe it’s just corruptive, who knows, but we stand no chance at defeating Morgana alone.”

“Don’t worry about that.” Merlin interjected softly. He had to tell Arthur, he knew it in that moment, and it broke his heart.

“Merlin-” Arthur started to argue.

“Arthur,” Merlin interrupted. He took a deep breath, “You don’t have to worry about that, I will take care of it.”

“What are you going to do, Merlin?” Arthur asked incredulously. He had no idea what had gotten into Merlin in that moment.

Merlin took a great shuddering breath and stepped closer to Arthur. There was a humoured glint in his eye and Merlin was lost in it. He studied Arthur’s face, trying to commit to memory the way he was looking at him now. Tired but at the same time awake and so impossibly full of life. There was trust in his eyes and Merlin clung to it, the thought of never seeing it again crushed him. But Arthur needed to know, he couldn’t doubt himself or they really would fail. Merlin steeled his resolve and, with a last look at Arthur’s smiling face, lowered his voice, bowed his head and spoke his truth. “I have magic.” Arthur froze, his smile slipping. “I use it for you, Arthur. Only for you.”

“Merlin…” Arthur breathed, almost unconsciously. He wanted to believe it was a trick, but he looked in Merlin’s eyes and he knew it wasn’t. “Why did you never tell me?”

“You would have chopped my head off,” Merlin tried to joke, but his heart was heavy. Arthur would never look at him the same way again, he’d never trust him. He knew, he’d always known, that this day would come but he had never expected to love Arthur so much when it did.

“That’s what worried you?” Arthur asked quietly. His mouth was hardly moving, he was hardly even aware he was speaking at all. Merlin having magic went against everything he had ever been taught about magic. He had always been taught that sorcerers were evil and yet here stood Merlin. Clumsy, stupid, brilliant Merlin. Suddenly he was overwhelmingly tired, his mind was spinning and the ground seemed to sway.

“Arthur, I can sneak into Camelot and disable Morgana’s magic. It may be only temporary but it might be enough to let us defeat her.”

“You can’t just go sneaking into Camelot, we wouldn’t be here if you could, Merlin. It’s too dangerous.”

“I’ll use magic,” Merlin argued in a loud whisper, “She’ll never even know it was me.”

“Merlin-”

“It could be our only chance Arthur. I’m going to do it. You can put me on trial for it when we get back to Camelot if you wish. I’ll be arrested for sorcery anyway.” And with that Merlin stormed off, leaving Arthur reeling in his wake.

That night, as he’d planned, Merlin snuck into Camelot and planted an effigy under Morgana’s bed that would take her magic. He’d disguised himself as the Old Man, the face Morgana associated with the name Emrys. With Agravaine dead there had been no one to correct Morgana’s theory. Morgana had seen him and panicked and Merlin knew the sight of him would cause her more paranoia than he could imagine. When he’d returned to the camp he was exhausted. He’d collapsed into sleep under a tree only to be woken up a short while later by Arthur.

“Wakey wakey,” Arthur snapped his fingers in Merlin’s face as he stared off into space. “You look as though you’ve been up half the night.” He seemed determined to pretend that Merlin hadn’t said anything last night, and Merlin didn’t know what to make of it. The fact of the matter was that, from what Arthur could tell, Merlin didn’t have an evil bone in his body.

“I was,” Merlin gave Arthur a look before adding, “Couldn’t sleep.”

“I thought you said you had faith in me?” Arthur joked. He couldn’t hate him, he’d realized after hours of tossing and turning. He needed Merlin. Merlin had been by his side for so long Arthur wasn’t entirely sure how to function without him anymore. And yet, there was a distance between them now. Arthur couldn’t help but think back to everything his father had ever told him about sorcerers. But then he’d look at Merlin, who’d been beside him since the beginning, and found he could scarcely believe any of it. But he had to be careful. He loved Merlin, he knew that now, but he couldn’t let that cloud his judgement. Not again.

Merlin was confused, for once he didn’t know what Arthur was thinking. But he had spent all night dreading the look in Arthur’s eyes that morning and found it had been much the same as the night before. There was a glimmer of apprehension in Arthur’s eyes, but there was trust there too. So much trust. He wouldn’t let that opportunity go to waste. “Whatever gave you that idea” He answered back. Arthur shrugged and smiled at him and Merlin felt like his chest could have burst from relief. Arthur went off to talk to Tristan and Isolde, presumably to say goodbye, but it seemed they planned on staying around. Merlin watched proudly as Arthur left them with a nod, he knew they’d see Arthur for who he really was.

Arthur had stepped away for a moment to escape the commotion of the camp and the battle planning. He needed to clear his head. He drew his new sword, admiring the inscription and feeling the balance. He thought of the moment he’d pulled it from the stone, seeing his people look on him with admiration and pride. Even thought he’d managed to let Morgana take Camelot in the first place. He heard a rustling in the bushes behind him before he heard someone speak.

“Arthur,” He registered it as Guinevere’s voice and turned, half in shock. He wasn’t sure who he’d expected. “If anything happens to us, I want you to know…”

“Guinevere--”

“I understand why you can’t forgive me. I don’t know why I did what I did. But I am sorry for the hurt it caused you.” Gwen walked away, leaving Arthur to consider what she had said.

When the time came, Arthur and his men armed themselves and took place outside the borders of Camelot. Arthur swung his sword forward, signalling for them to move out. The knights split off into groups and the fighting started. Arthur fought his way through the Southrons fiercely, holding his still injured ribs in the moments between. Merlin was never far from him, following through the wreckage. He made sure the Southrons were down for good.

Outside the council room, Arthur and his party took out the last of the guards. “Whatever happened to the idea of finding a bit of land and settling down?” Isolde quipped to Tristan as Arthur walked past.

Arthur stood next to Merlin and looked at his new sword. “You know this thing’s not half bad.”

“Thought you might like it.” Arthur chuckled as everyone regained their breath and composure. They stood ready to enter the council chambers, where the worst of Morgana’s guards would be.

“Ready?” Arthur asked.. Everyone nodded and took a breath.

“For the love of Camelot!” They shouted and charged in, only to skid to a stop when they saw that the room was only occupied by Morgana, who was lounging on the throne, and one man.

“Welcome, dear brother,” Morgana said airily, “It’s been far too long.” She stood and walked toward them, continuing. “I apologise if you had a difficult reception. It’s hard to know who to trust these days.” She stopped in the middle of the room, looking at Arthur expectantly. Arthur approached slowly, holding his sword in an open hand. She watched his hand closely and he slid the sword back into his belt for the first time since they arrived. He met her in the middle, studying her closely.

“What happened to you Morgana?” Arthur asked softly. The look in Morgana’s eye was almost regretful as she studied him in return. Hurt was plain on both their faces. “I thought we were friends.”

“As did I.” Morgana’s voice was soft, but then it hardened like steel, “But alas we were both wrong.”

“You can’t blame me for my father’s sins.” Arthur argued.

“It's a little late for that. You’ve made it perfectly clear how you feel about me and my kind.” Arthur’s thoughts shifted to Merlin and the look of fear in his eyes the night before. He could almost feel Merlin shift on his feet behind him, he fought the urge to look at him. “You're not as different from Uther as you'd like to think.”

“Nor are you.”

“I’m going to enjoy killing you, Arthur Pendragon.” Morgana sneered, “Not even Emrys can save you now.” Arthur drew his sword and Morgana smirked. “Your blades cannot stop me.” Merlin braced himself silently, unnoticed by Morgana as she exclaimed, “Hleap on bæc!”

The room stood still, but nothing happened. Arthur stood, still ready for an attack, as Morgana looked confused. Morgana tried again, raising her hand for strength. There was a quiver of fear in her voice as nothing happened once again. Arthur realised Merlin’s plan had worked with a slight rush of pride but he was overcome by sadness as Morgana’s state.

“Not so powerful now, my lady.” Arthur said sadly. Morgana’s guard, who’d been standing off to the side until now, pulled her behind him and she took off running. “After her!” Arthur exclaimed, and Merlin and Gwen took off in the same direction. Arthur struggled to fight Morgana’s guard. His ribs were screaming in pain with every movement. The guard knocked him down, disarming him, and raised his sword for the final blow. Arthur thought of Merlin. Before the guard could make his move, Isolde stabbed him in the back. He spun around, slicing Isolde as he dropped dead. Arthur realized what had happened when he saw the look in Isolde’s eyes. He rushed forward to help her, Tristan at his heels.

Merlin and Gwen returned to the council room to see Tristan holding Isolde to him with Arthur crouched in front of them.

“Our dreams…” Isolde trailed off.

“Isolde, don’t.” Tristan said softly.

“I wish…”

“I wish too.”

“Hold me.” Isolde’s voice quivered with fear. Tristan held her closer and her eyes drifted shut. He cradled her face in his hands and kissed her before burying his face in her hair, sobbing quietly. Arthur’s gaze drifted up to look at Merlin who looked up to meet his gaze slowly. Merlin could see the guilt in Arthur’s eyes. They held each other’s gaze silently. Gwen looked between the two of them and nodded to herself, understanding.

Later that day, Merlin set to work cleaning Arthur’s chambers, which had been completely ransacked. He set a chair upright at the table as Arthur entered. Merlin watched him inspect the room sadly. “It will take some time.” He said quietly.

“Well you’ll take care of it,” Arthur chuckled. Merlin smiled at him, once again trying to memorise the look on Arthur’s face, here, before the inevitable.

Merlin sighed, “Arthur, if you want to put me on trial for sorcery… I can leave. I’ll go back to Ealdor. You don’t have to see me again.” Merlin’s heart ached at the idea as he watched Arthur’s face expectantly.

“Merlin, I don’t want to do that. Quite the opposite actually. I want you to stay.” Merlin looked at him confusedly and Arthur took an involuntary step towards him. “Merlin…”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Merlin interrupted, fiddling with the sleeves of his jacket nervously.

“Everything that’s happened between us…”

“Arthur please, I know I lied to you.”

“I don’t care.” Arthur grabbed Merlin’s hands to stop his twitching. Merlin met his eye cautiously. “I couldn’t bear to lose you.” Arthur said heavily. Merlin smiled a little, but Arthur could see the apprehension in his eyes. “For god’s sake Merlin,” he chuckled, squeezing Merlin’s hand softly. He took a step closer to Merlin. “I’m not going to banish you or put you on trial, I couldn’t.” Standing this close, he could see the different shades of blue in Merlin’s eyes, the hints of gold. He could see the dirt smudged on Merlin’s brow and cheek and the faint splatter of blood on his face.��

Merlin was confused, to say the least. When he had told Arthur of his magic, he had half expected him to kill him on the spot or banish him right then and there. He certainly never expected Arthur to speak to him again, let alone look him in the eye as he did now. He felt as through the rug would be pulled out from under him at any moment, that Arthur would reveal it was a trick. But then, he could have killed Merlin right there and Merlin would have been okay. Arthur’s hands were warm on his and his gaze was gentle. Merlin could have died happy there.

Arthur lifted his hand and wiped the dirt from Merlin’s cheek softly. He saw the confusion in Merlin’s eyes and laughed. “You really are an idiot, aren’t you Merlin?”

“Must be from all the time I’ve spent with you,” Merlin quipped, instinctively.

Arthur’s hands cradled Merlin’s face softly as he threw his head back laughing. “I could have you thrown in the stocks for that.”

“You could try but what’s to say I stay there this time, I could just magic my way out, what’s the harm now?” Merlin chuckled, “Besides given the state of the castle they probably aren’t even there.”

“I’ll have them make new ones.”

“I’ll break them.”

“Sometimes I think you forget who I am.”

“You’re a prat. And a royal one.”

Arthur shook his head laughing. “What am I going to do with you, Merlin?” Merlin shrugged, smiling. Arthur’s hands were still resting on his face and Merlin’s had found a place on Arthur’s waist, almost involuntarily. “You’re lucky I love you, you clotpole.”

“That’s my w--” Arthur cut off Merlin’s indignant muttering as he surged forward to press his lips to Merlin’s. Merlin smiled into the kiss, deciding he was quite happy Arthur didn’t kill him. He’d much rather be doing this for eternity.

“I love you too, dollophead,” Merlin murmured as they pulled apart. Arthur scoffed and kissed him again.

#this too me forever to write but whatever #quite proud of it actually #merthur #merthur fic #merthur headcanon #sword in the stone #merlin #arthur pendragon #bbc merlin #i tried #this is definitely better than the last one I did

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