#in situations he no doubt blamed himself for. like will died saving arthur and merlin couldnt save him with magic bc of said prince

[bellamyblakru]

bro the way merlin’s go-to way to show the people he loves how magic can be beautiful is with fire manipulation,,, im unwell.

[honestlyandrogynousnightmare]

Arthur and Merlin are so similar in the fact that both of them are good at heart, but were stirred in the wrong direction by the people around them.

This is obvious enough with Arthur, Uther drilled the idea of magic being evil into him his entire life, though there were moments when his own opinions and views shone through (like saving Mordred) which did show that he was a good person but his judgement was just clouded because of his fathers teachings. And even after Uther died, Agravane took that spot of clouding Arthur's judgment and almost controlling the way he views certain things (such as with Caerleon). I think that's why his character development is kind of messy (though I still partly blame the writers for this) his opinions fluctuate because he constantly has this person whispering in his ear that he should be acting a different way, that he should resolve a certain situation differently etc. It prevents him from being able to make choices by himself and makes him doubt himself when he does actually have the option of making a choice himself without someone guiding him through it.

With Merlin it's a little more complicated, it's obvious enough that the boy doesnt have an evil bone in his body and that he does things for a good cause, but he had a similar experience with Kilgharrah, and hell, even Gaius, trying to guide him and give him advice which only led to him making bad decisions. I mean without Kilgharrah and Gaius, Merlin would have saved Mordred without question, and wouldnt have acted cold towards him later on, because why would he without Kilgharrah constantly rambling about Mordreds evil nature. He probably would have told Morgana about his magic too, and though we dont know whether thatd be good or bad, the key point is that overtime he made less and less decisions himself, and based the ones he made on what Kilgharrah said or what Gaius would think is right. And this doesnt happen all the time, like think about the amount of times Merlin went directly against what people advised him because he thought he was doing the right thing lol, its just the fact that by the end, most decisions were influeced by other people. It's almost like while he tried to control his destiny, and define the prophecy about Camlann, he completely lost control over it.

It's just why I think these two are so similar, that two sides of the same coin metaphor really does fit them. Both of them are truly good at heart, but they kind of grew dependant on other peoples approval of their actions in a way, which led to those bad decisions.

[min-sugar-7]

DAY 5: “Any other lies to tell me?” + Angst

Read it on AO3 Here!

Merlin slumped against his bed, covering his eyes and willing them not to spill. It felt stupid, really. But he was told for so long that Arthur is the other side to his coin, his other half, his soulmate. He should have known better than to think that destiny would ever favor him.

It probably would hurt less if Kilgharrah did not feed Merlin pointless lies. If he had clearly stated that there would be nothing romantic between them. Because Merlin went ahead and caught feelings, those pesky little things. At least he never got a chance to make a fool of himself.

What was he thinking? Golden Prince, Arthur Pendragon, falling for him? Of course, his true love was a 'she.' At least he never acted on his feelings. At least the only one that knows about them was himself. But it is fine. It’s not like he loves Arthur. He hates him half the time anyway.

A lie.

He is just a little bit heartbroken. Maybe a bit more than little. But he should have known better than to think that there could be anything between them. It is a miracle they are even friends, considering the number of lies Merlin has told him. 

That, sadly, did not mean that Merlin got over his feelings. It hurt, seeing Arthur with someone else, but at least it was Gwen. Sweet, kind, strong, and caring Gwen. He couldn’t have chosen anyone better. She’s the best in the world.

So Merlin made sure his two favorite people were happy, even if it meant that he would be pining from a distance. He is glad that Arthur’s happy and smiling, even if those were directed to someone else. It’s fine. Destiny was a stupid thing anyway. 

Well, it was fine right up until he was getting crushed under the weight of destiny. If one more person reminded him of his destiny, Merlin would scream. Merlin doubts if he can keep going, carrying the weight of the expectations of sorcerers alive and dead. Not to mention the fact that he’s considered some sort of leader to the magical community. Merlin was not trained for this, will never be trained for this, and cannot possibly live up to their expectations.

Everyone expects Emrys to be some sort of divine leader- fearless and ruthless, a guardian and protector of the magical community. Merlin isn’t Emrys. He doesn’t want to be Emrys. But every single Druid he meets bows and pays their respects and tells him how he’s such a great warlock. 

Merlin might as well scream. 

They treat him like a God, which is not as great as you would think. Merlin is the one to carry their dreams and expectations. Their hopes and dreams followed him around like dead weight, refusing to leave. He is required to fulfill it. It is either that or let every magical being suffer. 

And he is the only one to carry the burden of fate.

He doesn’t have anyone to share it with, not even Gaius. Gaius doesn’t get it either, and never will. He treats Merlin like a son, and for that, he is very grateful. Some days he is sure he would be dead in a ditch if it weren’t for Gaius. But with Gaius, it is a bit different. For him, having Merlin is like having a God for a son, which isn’t that far from the truth. He knows that Gaius worries for him and cares for him. But Gaius also has expectations for Merlin. Expectations he’s afraid he can’t fulfill.

With each passing day, the threat to Arthur’s life grows stronger and more dangerous. Merlin cannot keep up. 

Everyone who knows about Merlin’s magic also knows about his destiny. There are people that Merlin does not know that know about Merlin’s destiny. Merlin wants to yell that they are entrusting their freedom to the hands of the wrong person. That he is not the one they should be laying down their lives for. That there must be another sorcerer, one who deserves to be called Emrys. 

He feels laced with guilt and regret for the lives of Alator and Finna, along with every other sorcerer's life lost for a cause that is impossible to fulfill. They have laid it all down so Merlin could hear, in painful detail, just how his King is going to die. 

Merlin did scream then, in the relative privacy of the forest. Arthur’s going to die, and if Merlin doesn't prevent it, it is all on him. Arthur's death would be on him. It is going to be his fault that there will be no Albion. It is going to be his fault that magic will forever be lost to these lands. It is going to be his fault that Arthur's going to die, and he doesn't want that. He wants Arthur to live a happy and long life.

Somewhere along the line, 'Albion' sounded like 'Arthur.' If given a choice between the two, Merlin would no doubt chose Arthur. He would pick Arthur over and over again. Always Arthur. Because Arthur has become his priority, and he won't be able to live with himself if he let Arthur die. It will all be his fault.

It was his fault anyway. It was his fault Morgana turned. It was his fault that Mordred lived. It was his fault that he didn’t let Morgana die when he had the chance. It was his fault that while trying to show Arthur how good magic can be, he did the complete opposite. For Arthur, magic is something that took his mother, his father, his sister, and his wife. Merlin doubts that saving Gwen made Arthur’s opinion on magic any different. 

Everything he does, everything he tries, only brings him closer to the inevitable. Arthur is going into battle at dawn, and Merlin won’t even be there. 

Merlin promised Arthur that he would always protect him or die trying. A lie. He failed at both. Now Arthur’s saddled up with a piece of a sword forged in a dragon’s breath inside him, the very same dragon he should have looked after.

Aithusa, Light of the Sun, the very same dragon Kilgharrah said would bode well for Albion, for him and Arthur, and for the land they would build together. 

A lie.

It is the sword drenched in her breath that brought Arthur down. Merlin did not have the heart to blame her. Merlin was the one that abandoned her, sent her straight to Morgana. 

Gaius trusted him, told him that only he could save Arthur. Said that he would have a bowl of his favorite soup waiting for him, for when he would come back. He said that Arthur would be fine, that the Shide would heal him. 

Another lie.

Merlin clutched the wheezing body of his love tighter as if he could will him to stay. It is all his deepest nightmares playing out. Arthur- dying in his arms- practically resenting Merlin’s magic. For all his magic and he still could not save his love. 

Nothing, nothing ever could be worse than this.

Until it was. 

In any other situation, anything but this, Merlin would have cherished Arthur’s last words. He despised them. He despised his final words, the last whisper of something he has never said before. He despised the way they were told- as if a confession of his deepest darkest secret. 

But that is what they were. Arthur had a wife, a loving, doting wife, and yet- 

And yet, his last words to Merlin had been a choked whisper of, “I love you.”

Merlin has dreamt of those words, thought about every single way Arthur would tell him. Never like this, though. But those were just that- dreams and fantasies. But Destiny was never easy, was it?

Was it all a lie? Could, heaven forbid, Arthur really love him? Or was it just words spoken out of desperation, just another lie?

Just like how his destiny was a lie? Like how Albion was a lie? Like how the Kingdom they were supposed to build, together, was a lie? 

Like how everything Kilgharrah said was a lie. Like how his hopes and dreams were lies. Like how every Druid lied. Like how everything was a lie, a half-baked truth, a stupid fantasy. 

“There is nothing you can do, Merlin, for all that you have dreamt has come to pass,” Kilgharrah said.

 Lies.

He had failed. He’d failed Arthur. He’d failed Morgana. He’d failed Gwen. He'd failed Gaius. He’d failed Mordred, Isidir, and Freya. He’d failed Finna, Alator, and Gili. He’d failed Daegel, Balinor, and Hunith. He’d failed all the sorcerers that died during and after the Purge. He’d failed all the sorcerers living in fear. He’d failed all that sorcerers that are yet to be born.

Merlin stayed long after he sent Arthur away, no doubt his bowl of soup growing cold. He learned that Gwaine, too, had passed in a last attempt to run Morgana through. It was not supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be the three of them, Courage, Strength, and Magic, standing side-by-side, ready to face whatever destiny throws at them.

Another Lie.

He made it as far as Camelot’s gates, listening to the echoes of “Long Live the Queen,” before deciding that Camelot would prosper under Gwen’s rule. He could never, ever face her again. Not after his failure, not after the lies. Not after being the keeper of his King’s last words, which no doubt should have belonged to Gwen. 

He only scried for Gaius when he felt the old man’s life slipping away. Gaius saw him and heard him, telling him that they missed him there. No doubt another lie. Merlin watched as the light behind Gaius’s eyes dimmed, saying one last goodbye to the closest thing he had to a father. 

Soon it was Kilgharrah, and then Geoffrey, then Gwen, then Leon, then Percival, then Audrey, Queen Annis, Queen Mithian, Queen Vivian, Queen Elena, Isidir, Gili, Sefa… 

He should have guessed that he would be punished in some way. The Gods made him immortal, forever waiting for Arthur to return. Forever waiting near the lake, never allowed to be away from Albion for long. 

Excalibur might have been his only way out, but he had disposed of it into the lake soon after Arthur died. Again, that could have been a lie too. 

The world changed. Green and magic got replaced by iron and steel. Aithusa passed peacefully in her sleep, never once forgiving Merlin for slaying Morgana. Magic slipped away from the land slowly, until the last tendril of magic died along with the last wizard, leaving Merlin to be the only source of magic left.

All of it seeped deep into the Earth’s core, locked away and to never be accessed, leaving the Earth barren. 

Wars broke out, along with famine, storms and disasters, and death. The Lake of Avalon remained still and timeless, forever preserved by the Gods, like Merlin. 

Merlin looked up at the sky, where he believed the Gods to be, long forgotten like the legend of his love and his legacy. The Gods were never merciful. They had disappeared too, the last of them forgotten like Merlin. But Merlin was forced to keep living, forever traveling the Earth, never straying too far from the lake. 

“Any other lies left to tell me?” Merlin said, resigned and pitiful, as he felt the world falling apart around him. Arthur never once returned, dooming Merlin to watch as humans ripped apart from each other, unable to help. They tear themselves apart, rebuilding and rehabilitating soon after. They, too, had been cursed to keep going, destroying and restoring. And for all Merlin knew, that also could have been a lie.

[tinylilemrys]

Merlin 3x11 “The Sorcerer’s Shadow” Highlights

Omg, it’s Dudley

Do you think Harry Melling was determined to play a character with magic after all those years of not being a magical character in the Harry Potter series?

God I still adore this theme tune. I hardly ever skip the intro because I love it so much

Arthur being all “chill, Merlin, there’s nothing to worry about – it’s just a tournament where there are no rules” while watching dudes slice the heads off of practice dummies and having axes just barely miss his head is 100% peak Prince Dumbass. Bless

Imagine showing up to a bed and breakfast and they’re like “you can stay here, but you need to room with someone else”. We have it so good in the 21st century

I say this all the time, but Colin is such an amazing actor. When those two skeevy dudes start harassing Merlin and ordering him to clean their boots, the fear and disgust on his face is palpable

Like, Merlin’s obviously powerful enough to kill both of them with minimal effort, but he can’t protect himself that way in this scenario, so watching him navigate the situation without that to back him up is so tense and uncomfortable

Colin Morgan is a gift to this world y’all

I wonder how lonely Merlin is at times. He seems to latch onto new friends whenever he has the opportunity to make them. Gilli saves his life and Merlin’s immediately in protective best friend mode

Morgana is so good at manipulation. She’s just there planting all the seeds she knows will make Uther want to compete in the crazy death tournament. She’s such a great villain

That trumpet fanfare. You know the one

Merlin and Gaius immediately being all raised eyebrows when Gilli wins his fight

CSI: Camelot – now with added Gaius

In this episode, Merlin actually goes to the tavern

The magic as homosexuality metaphor is strong in this episode. Gilli’s whole thing about how his dad was too scared to ever use his magic, but how Gilli wants to be proud of who he is, and Merlin’s agreement with him but fear for his safety in a mentor kind of way… it’s all there

Look, I know it’s only a few more episodes until Uther dies, but I can’t help but sit here during all of his fights just waiting for someone to fatally stab him

Gilli’s conflicted feelings about killing the guy who was tormenting him his heartbreaking. I 100% understand that feeling of wanting to hurt those people who make your life a living hell, but I know for sure I would feel guilty af afterwards

So Gilli gets a hero’s welcome when he gets back to the tavern, but since innkeeper said earlier in the episode that only people competing in the tournament could stay there, aren’t they all in the tournament too? Aren’t these his opponents? Did they all just hate the asshole dude that Gilli killed as much as he did?

Arthur’s almost physical pain at the idea of losing a fight to his dad

Arthur: “Do you have any idea how it feels to live with a man who constantly thinks he’s the best?” – Merlin: “Mmm, must be irritating.”

Fuck I love Anthony Head’s voice

I’d listen to him reading a grocery list I swear

Morgana’s shit-eating grin as she watches the two most proud and stubborn men she knows beating the shit out each other with the potential to fatally wound is amazing

I like that Merlin has learned to stop listening to Gaius when he warns Merlin against talking to baby sorcerers about their magic because Gaius’ bad advice was largely to blame for the Morgana situation we now find ourselves in

Okay so this scene in Gilli’s room in the inn, where Merlin reveals his magic to Gilli and they’re both overcome with emotion at realising that they’re not alone is so powerful, but like, then they both start yelling about magic at the top of their lungs and I’m just wondering how thick these walls actually are? Doesn’t sound travel super well through wood? Do they know that there are dozens of people they don’t know in the building? What’s the plan if they’re confronted?

Merlin’s eyes flicker down for the shortest of seconds when Gilli accuses him of forgetting who he is, even as he tries to deny it, conveying his doubt with the tiniest of eye movements

Like fuck, Colin Morgan is fucking fantastic actor

(I’m saying that a lot because it’s true)

“OOOOOOOO DRAGOOOOON…”

The one time where Kilgharrah is all “hmm, maybe let’s save the king” and Merlin is all “do we have to?”

“Some choices are easy, some stay with you forever.” SMASH CUT TO THE MERLIN FINALE WHERE WE SEE AN OLD AND TIME-WEARY MERLIN LIVING WITH HIS CHOICES. THE FEELS MAN

Merlin is the fucking ice man when he’s determined to save someone. The absolute frigid glare he gives Gilli while fucking with his plan to kill Uther is everything

Please do yourself a favour and just watch the extras whenever the crowd is cheering. Some of their reactions are hilarious

The farewell scene between Gilli and Merlin is so sweet and hopeful. It’s a shame we never see him again

Uther has a rare moment of decent parenting towards Arthur and I love Morgana’s seething rage at the exchange

Every time Gaius tells Merlin he’s proud of him, I gain a year of life

NEXT EPISODE IS WHERE WE START GATHERING OUR FAVOURITE KNIGHT SQUAD Y’ALL ♥

 < 3x10 | 3x12 > 

[capmerthur]

THE BODY SWAP

Summary: It’s all in the title :) Somewhere end S1 (after 1.11 Labyrinth, but pre 1.13 Morte). In a land of myth, and a time of magic, Arthur awakes inside Merlin’s body (and no, not in that way). Alternating Merthur POV, bonus Gaius, bit of George, mentions of Will.

Excerpt PART VI:

There is a flash of guilt in Merlin's disheartened eyes, and Arthur realizes how Merlin's face is always *transparent* - a fact Arthur truly appreciates on Merlin's face - but a fact that could turn out problematic, now that it's on his own face...

"Let's get back to my chambers. There is still something you should master better before the pleas."

And that's how Merlin finds himself positioned by Arthur in front of a mirror.

"What do you see, Merlin?" Arthur asks.

"Well, you?" Merlin feels he's missing Arthur's point, but he has no clue...

"Do you? Because I see my body, I see my clothes; but I do not see the Prince of Camelot. Come on; I'll explain. Ready? No matter what you do, you must always, *always*, look confident. That's the first strength of a kingdom - the strenghth of its ruler. That's what keeps your people safe. So. Chin up, Merlin. Square your shoulders. Stand tall - stand *proud*" 

Arthur grins at him via the mirror, exuding confidence - trust in him?; and Merlin would face (has faced) monsters to earn it indeed.

(PREVIOUS CHAPTERS UNDERS CHAPTER VI)

VI. THE PRINCE'S PART (ALTERNATE ARTHUR/MERLIN POV)

They get out; get dried; put their clothes back on. Merlin ties the towel to the branch, for future use.

Then, on their way back to the castle, Arthur asks Merlin about his agenda for the day.

Merlin gives him a look - like he's unsure whether Arthur means it. Arthur gives him a look back - meaning he isn't joking indeed. Merlin smiles, eyes full of mirth.

"Your chambers are a complete mess, your clothes need washing, your boots need cleaning, your dogs need exercising, your fireplace needs sweeping, your bed needs changing and, oh, *someone* needs to muck out your stables. But we have more pressing matters at hand; so I think you can consider yourself free for the day."

Arthur is taken aback. He recognizes his own words, of course. It's both baffling and humbling - that Merlin can quote him, months later? and that Merlin has omitted one part and one part only in his old speech, because they both know his armour doesn't need any repairing (the devotion Merlin shows those metal pieces echoing the devotion he shows to Arthur himself)?

Arthur sobers up. He had first planned to give a playful thankful bow; but it would feel wrong.

"So. I'll go bother Geoffrey. Try to get him to show me where the secret books are hidden. I'll tell him Gaius has found a strange herb and wants to make sure it isn't dangerous or something..."

/

Merlin has to give Arthur that: he is indeed insightful.

The mention of Gaius's name though has Merlin slightly panicking again: Gaius doesn't know yet about their current situation. What if he mentions 'something' upon walking on Arthur thinking he is him? No. Merlin has to be there when they'll get to see Gaius.

"Speaking about Gaius? Stay clear from his chambers. I doubt he'll be as magnanimous as I am. He'll do that thing with his eyebrow and have you pick herbs and brewing healing potions and conconting ointments before you even got a chance to tell him about our predicament - he's really dedicated in my education as a physician, you know..."

"And I believe you rather enjoy it."

"I do, indeed. I mean... It's fascinating - do you know that the same stuff can cure you or kill you sometimes, depending on the dosis? Anyway, who wouldn't want to know how to save lives?" Merlin can't help but twitch. "I'm not sure I'm any good at it though..."

/

There is a flash of guilt in Merlin's disheartened eyes, and Arthur realizes two things:

1) Merlin feels responsible for having been unable to save his friend Will. Which is understandable, because Merlin must have gathered by now some knowledge from Gaius's lessons; but heartbreaking - because Arthur has seen enough arrow's wounds to know that Will's could never have healed - and perplexing - because Will has died to save *him*, not Merlin; so why would Merlin think the guilt was his to start with? and how come Arthur has never felt like Merlin might blame him for it either?

2) Merlin's face is always *transparent* indeed - a fact Arthur truly appreciates on Merlin's face - but a fact that could turn out problematic, now that it's on his own face...

"Let's get back to my chambers. There is still something you should master better before the pleas."

/

And that's how Merlin finds himself positioned by Arthur in front of a mirror.

"What do you see, Merlin?" Arthur asks.

"Well, you?" Merlin feels he's missing Arthur's point, but he has no clue...

"Do you? Because I see my body, I see my clothes; but I do not see the Prince of Camelot - I'd like to think I play it better than that - and I must be, because my father would not allow *this* I assure you - at least I hope or the kingdom is doomed." Arthur ends on a sigh, shakes his head, and then turns commanding eyes back towards Merlin via the mirror. "Close your eyes, Merlin. Think of me. I mean, *picture* me; and more especially, picture me at any official activity you've served me through. See how I walk, how I stand, how I sit, how I move, how I look?"

Merlin does as asked, searching through his memories. After a while, he nods.

"Got it?"

"I think?"

"Then open your eyes, Merlin. What do you see?"

Merlin understands now. He can't help but sigh helplessly. "Not the Prince of Camelot. Obviously. I'm sorry Arthur, I guess I'm just not... majestic enough to play you."

"It's not that hard, Merlin. Come on; I'll explain. Ready?" Arthur grins at him via the mirror, exuding confidence - trust in him?; and Merlin would face (has faced) monsters to earn it indeed.

Merlin nods, their eyes still linked via the mirror.

"First thing first? You're slouching."

"Yes. (Merlin tries not to slouch; but is still not satisfied with the result) I think though the biggest problem is- There's something wrong with your face."

"Because you wear your heart on it, Merlin; and you mustn't. Believe me, you do not want to be lectured for hours about this by my Father..."

Arthur moves away, and Merlin can't see him anymore in the mirror. His voice is directing though, and Merlin focuses on the words to school his face.

"You're a prince, so you *must* always look like one. No matter what you do, you must always, *always*, look confident. That's the first strength of a kingdom - the strenghth of its ruler. That's what keeps your people safe. So. Chin up, Merlin. Square your shoulders. Stand tall - stand *proud*."

Merlin realizes the words are not Arthur's; they're Uther's. He wonders how often indeed Arthur has heared those words - most probably often enough to give himself a internal pep talk before any official anything apparently...

"That's better; but still not good enough. No matter how you feel inside must not show, Merlin. When you're tired, hide it. When you're sick, hide it. When you hurt, hide it. When you're stressed, hide it. When you worry, hide it. When you doubt, hide it. When you're bored, and even more when you disagree; hide it - it's disrespectful; and we do not want wounded pride to fester, don't we Merlin? When you're afraid, definitely hide it. When you're sad, hide it. And the trickiest part maybe: when you're happy, hide it too - or risk whatever is making you happy to be taken away: weakening you is weakening the kingdom; and its enemies will never hesitate to bring you down, if you let them see even an inch of an opportunity."

Merlin is shaken. He feels guilty, somehow. This is, certainly, too intimate. Merlin feels like he's intruding. This feels even more trespassing than being in Arthur's body. It's like being forced in Arthur's head, without his consent. It's nauseating.

"Again, Merlin. Your eyes; focus. It's a part; but it's part of your job. So for the love of Camelot, Merlin, please try harder. Your people reckon on you to lead them and protect them; so it's your duty to be a leader, and to be strong. Work hard; harder than anyone else. You *must* be an example, an inspiration. You must be admirable in everything, so that your people will follow you everywhere. But you must lead, Merlin; never follow. A ruler is alone - *must* be alone. Do not trust anyone; at least do not trust anyone more than anyone else, and surely not more than you trust yourself. Your own judgement must *never* be clouded."

Merlin can't help but turn towards Arthur at the words, both in disbelief and in ache... Because Merlin has grown up hiding, but he had never realized that Arthur had, too; and maybe even more than him. Arthur must not only always pretend and perpetually watch over his shoulder; he must pretend and watch over his shoulder *alone*. And Merlin can only imagine how hard that must have been, and be. Back at Ealdor, Merlin had (and still has) his loving mother, and he had Will. Even here, now, Merlin has Gaius. And somehow, yes: he has Arthur too, Merlin suddenly realizes; and then feels ashamed, because he can't help but feel blessed - Arthur trusts him. Because Arthur is definitely less guarded around him, isn't he? When it's just the two of them; Arthur and Merlin? Arthur laughs, Arthur doubts, Arthur *shows*; maybe not everything - but that's probably not possible as he is so trained - but something at least always shines through; even if it's by putting his feet on his face... But Merlin knows now, how rare and precious it truly is. They can never be friends, maybe; but Arthur trusts him. That's undeniable; and that's everything, somehow.

"Do not look at me; look at the mirror, Merlin. Harden your eyes. Smile; always politely, even when you don't want to smile at all; more genuinely, when it's true - but never let it go up to your eyes. First thing about tomorrow too; as we're at it. Hear everyone out. Listen with your full attention to everyone; whether you agree or not. Never decides right away; except if it's necessary, in war time. Your decisions must be thought upon; never a spur of the moment. If something is unclear, do not let it show during concil. If you favor a position, do not let it show during concil. If you disagree, do not let it show during concil. You need further advice, or even only further information? Seek the appropriate person in private; ask man to man. They will see the honor in it if it's positive, and be thankful you kept it private if it's negative. Also. You must be ready to be impartial, Merlin; because you do not need to be kind, but you must always be fair. You may - and you will, unfortunately - make mistakes; but never ackowledge them. Fix them. If you can't; repair as much damage as possible. Learn from your errors, in order to never make the same mistake again. But never apologize. Come on Merlin; I'm sure you can do it. You're nearly there."

More over, Merlin realizes the Arthur he gets to see nowadays - the true Arthur - has always been there already, even under the pretense of the moron. Kilgarrah is wrong. His destiny isn't to change Arthur; because there is nothing to change. Arthur already has everything to be a great king, the greatest king, all on his own.

And so, Merlin is *angry*. He has now yet another reason to despise Uther, it seems - scarring his child on the inside in such a way. Of course Arthur always feels inadequate; of course Arthur feels lacking; of course the only bond Arthur values is the one with his fellow knights - ride to glory or death, together? It's the only bond Uther has authorized him to authorize himself to ever have... But Merlin's anger is a good thing, apparently - because whenever Merlin thinks about Uther, Arthur finds that he's playing the Prince's part better.

"There Merlin, you have it. See? Right there. Lock it; just like that. That's good enough for anyone looking today; because believe me, someone *will* be looking, even if only my father and not the one who switched us or anyone else with ill intentions - there is *always* *someone* looking, Merlin."

Fine. Think about Uther; until the pleas are done. Merlin can do it; and he'll gladly do it. He'll probably gladly do anything; for Arthur. He can still have a cry or hit a wall afterwards, right...

.

Arthur needs a hug. I volunteer. Anyone with me? (besides Merlin, obviously...)

.

PREVIOUS CHAPTERS :

I. AWAKING (ARTHUR POV)

Arthur awakes; lying on his back - unusual - and rolls over automatically.

He surprisingly falls, down, hard; and jerks fully awake now - on the floor, near a so very tiny bed, tangled in an unknown blanket (harsher than his standards, even while on errands, he can't help but notice).

In disbelief, he eyes his surroundings...

Where is he? Has he been abducted?

Think, he admonishes himself - trying to clear his mind; to remember what must have happened, to guess who has dared to commit such an act, and, most important of all right now: Find a way out.

His eyes then suddenly meet Merlin's, and relief surges through him somehow - Merlin is alive - before his anxiety returns; and double: because poor faithful, loyal Merlin has obviously been taken too; and it's Arthur's fault - he must have failed to save them both from being taken, even though he cannot remember anything...

Except when Arthur reaches out to Merlin for him to come closer (they need to share information and plan, but must be quiet as a mouse), he realizes with fright but indeniable certainty that Merlin is in fact a reflection in a mirror; and worse: *HIS* reflection!?

It his NOT his hand indeed that is stretching out in front of him; NOT his clothes on his person; and definitely NOT his own hair falling upon his eyes, as he notices the black strings in his vision range...

Arthur is dumbstruck. He sees Merlin's mouth shaping a silent O, and he sees the dread in Merlin's eyes... except they ARE - he feels - *his* mouth, and *his* eyes; and everything is just plainly wrong, and plainly impossible - but undeniably REAL.

He is... Merlin? Or better said, *inside* Merlin? How can such a thing have even come to be?

Sorcery, Arthur understands with horror: Camelot is under attack!

But now armed with the knowledge of his predicament, Arthur realizes he is actually in Merlin's bedroom. He's been in here before, once; and he recognizes it all now.

So. Not abducted. All things considered, that still counts as something, right...

And, as it surely doesn't feel as if Merlin is still somewhere in his own head too while Arthur is inside of it, well... Maybe? Logically? Merlin might then be in return inside his own body?

Arthur suddenly finds himself praying for this to be true. It would be for the best, if Merlin was in his body - if they were the only ones concerned by this unnatural situation; because what if *everyone* was awaking inside someone else's body this morning? That would be... precarious - the general panic leaving Camelot completely vulnerable to whoever must have plotted this? The worst though would be if the one responsible for this was right now in control of his body, and acting as Crown Prince to do, well, evil deeds... So yes, you bet Arthur truly wants to find Merlin to be the one inside his own body when he finally finds it.

Arthur jumps on his feet, ready for action. Luckily (even though Arthur feels a bit guilty, as he notices his armour in pristine state against the opposite wall - apparently Merlin has been polishing it late into the night then) Merlin hasn't bothered to undress before falling asleep.

So. First thing first: he has to go to his chamber.

Picking some weapon on the way for good measure, you bet ...

/ / /

Simply walking the few paces to open the door though turns out to be a challenge. His limbs are too long, and dangly; it feels like he has two left feet, and he has to try thrice before actually getting a grip on the handle - because he isn't used to this body, of course - but maybe it is truly NOT Merlin's fault if he trips over his own feet that often after all...

Gaius is already out - hopefully looking for herbs and not wandering out of his mind... Arthur would have preferred to be able to test right away his theories about how many people were affected by the damn body change; but unfortunately, it would have to wait some more.

The corridors are empty too, except for a stray black cat who walks at his side long enough for Arthur to start questioning himself about asking to the cat if he *is* Merlin - because Merlin HAS to be somewhere, right, as he obviously isn't where he should be to start with; but then the cat takes another turn... Arthur feels stupid for worrying so much about his silly manservant - but he cannot deny that he definitely will worry less only after having indeed finally found said silly manservant.

Arthur relaxes slighthly though when he enters the kitchen: people are working as usual, apparently not in shock, apparently in their right bodies. He picks up the first tray he finds, along with an extra knife that he hides in his pocket for good measure.

He tries to put on a confident grin as he walks (with the most assurance he can muster in this awkward-feeling body) towards the guards at his bedroom's door - and can only hope it will look the same as usual to them. They let him pass without trouble, and Arthur isn't sure whether it's a good thing. On the one hand, he *doesn't* doubt Merlin - he simply, intrinsically doesn't; and would never want him to feel like he did if his guards were to search him whenever he was about to enter his chamber. On the other hand... well, it isn't Merlin right now entering his chamber, with knifes at the ready... This time, it's only him; but what if it happens again, and if the one then inside Merlin's body has ill intentions...

Deciding not to dwell on this for the time being, Arthur enters his bedroom - hoping to find Merlin doing whatever Merlin always does, but preparing for a fight, if need be...

.

Mirrors were probably not so advanced at the time… But let’s say Merlin has an enhanced one, after all he has magic, right…

.

II. AWAKING (MERLIN POV)

Merlin awakes as if in a cocoon; literally. He is surrounded by softness, flush, warmth; he cannot remember ever feeling so comfortable - and the world can wait for just another few seconds before he opens his eyes, right... Merlin wriggles, shifting on his back, sighing softly as he nestles some more into the cushions...

When Merlin awakes for the second time - culpability sinking in as he realizes he has overslept - his eyes open to a Pendragon red canopy he would recognize even among hundreds. Merlin freezes: what the hell is he doing, sleeping IN ARTHUR'S BED?!

Merlin sits upright at once - blankets falling all around him to reveal that he wears ARTHUR'S NIGHTGOWN too ?!

Whaaaaaaaat?!

This... just DOESN'T make any sense. The last thing he can remind is sitting on his own bed, polishing the last bit of Arthur's armour before letting himself fall down to sleep (*AN). He surely doesn't recall walking to Arthur's chamber, and even less...

Merlin's mind is reeling as he shuffles out of bed as swiftly as he can. Oh my... What is Arthur going to think? And come to think of it - true panic now creeping down on Merlin at that thought: *WHERE* is Arthur to start with?

His attention is drawn out right then by Arthur calling out his name (Merlin feels relief, no matter his current embarrassing situation) - in one of those thousands yet unmistakably always Arthurian ways to say his name: a myriad of moods and meanings in those simple two syllables - the voice sounding odd though this morning (is Arthur sick?), and tensed (well, he just found his manservant in *his* bed, that might explain it!).

Merlin turns to face his sovereign, trying to feel less self conscious because he mustn't look guilty, while wishing for inspiration, and buying time until it hits: "There is actually a perfectly valid explan-"

But it is NOT Arthur he sees: it is... himself? His breath catches as 'utter confusion' gets a new meaning, you bet...

At the same moment, Merlin notices suddenly just how *not his* his voice has just sounded, and how he's wearing a very particular ring around one finger of what's NOT his hand, and how *blond* hair is falling upon his eyes... And still nothing makes sense; but at least it *does* explain how he awoke in Arthur's bed in Arthur's clothes: he *is* Arthur?; and... Arthur... is him? MUST be him. He has been calling his name right the right way, right?!

"Arthur?" Merlin barely dares to breathe out, both in wonder and in plea (because Arthur CANNOT be gone - the fear and pain and simple *impossibility* of such a concept slicing through Merlin's mind like a knife).

There is a bright smile then appearing on his face - a smile that doesn't entirely look like his own though - "Yes, Merlin. It's me," followed by a relieved sigh: "And it's you". And, despite the shock about them having apparently switched bodies (?!?!), Merlin can't help but feel warm all over - because Arthur (and yes, it is so clearly Arthur, even in HIS body!) has apparently been worried about him.

.

(*AN) Headcanon time :

Merlin uses magic to clean Arthur’s armour in the beginning, indeed. And he still uses magic for most of the chores, as much as he can, of course (washing clothes, mending clothes, emptying chamber pots, sweeping fireplaces, preparing baths, refreshing beds, cleaning floors, cleaning everything, really (except for mucking the stables, because there are always others around, grrrr). But he quickly grows nearly *maniac* about Arthur’s food (picking at it as a way to make sure it’s not poisoned etc…) and about Arthur’s armour: it’s one of Arthur’s protections - so you bet Merlin definitely cleans and polishes and repairs and oils the leather ligaments that hold it together and EVERYTHING the hell out of it, with extra ardor and fervor, with his own two hands, all the while continuously trying to put on it any protecting spells he ever finds, and repeating those over and over at each occasion…

Also: on a side note, I’m never going to be over Arthur’s priority-thinking (I’m in trouble = CAMELOT IS UNDER ATTACK (babyyyy let me hold you - being Camelot Prince/King is NOT your only worth) and Merlin’s priority-thinking (what the hell is happening = WHERE THE HELL IS ARTHUR (babyyyy let me hold you - your devotion to The (brave, kind, admirable (shut up Merlin)) Prat doesn’t have to mean that you always must come second (and a bit self-preservation cannot be harmful)) *SIGH* I just love those two idiots so much !!!

.

III. DISABLED (MERLIN POV)

But soon, Merlin is terrified.

And not because of the puzzling body swap.

*HE HAS NO MAGIC!?*

(Not that Merlin knows of any spell to reverse their current situation at once, mind you; so he doesn't actually try anything about it. But Merlin simply knows: there is nothing but blood running through his veins now - no vigorous warmth, no energic flow; there is simply nothing singing under his placid flesh, as he focuses on it.)

He cannot help but wish he's wrong though, and desperately tries to move a quill on Arthur's desk behind Arthur's back - the simplest of things, really; yet he fails, indeed...

His magic is tied to his body. Not to his mind.

No, no, no, no, nooooooooooo.

Merlin is, to his core, *terrified* - as he has never been. Not only because he feels more powerless and utterly helpless than he has ever felt - and worse, unable to protect Arthur! But also because the longer Arthur stays in his body, the more chances he has to find out that he has magic!? (And even though Merlin has nearly told Arthur, once? He is still not ready for him to know right now... Will after all didn't lie to protect Merlin's secret on his deathbed for Merlin to take chances with his life so soon after...)

Merlin though decides to push his panic aside for the moment: he simply MUST focus. No matter which sorcerer has this week decided to deal with the Pendragon line once and for all, Arthur's life is undoubtedly in the balance; and that's dearer to Merlin than all the magic in the world - included his own.

Because Merlin's life *has* tilted, on that rocky beach by The Great Seas of Meredor.

Merlin's earnest readiness to lay his life down to save Arthur's had been instinctive, beyond doubt visceral; and the concrete force of the impulse had surprised him. Because it hadn't been related to his first supposed then anyway indeed wished upon destiny. It had merely been a reflex, a spontaneous reaction: what he had wanted to do; more than what he ought to do. And Merlin had realized right then that he had, somehow, but undeniably, actually come to *LOVE* Arthur? He had known, for some time, that he liked him. And he had felt oddly pleased when Arthur had turned up at Ealdor - maybe Arthur liked him too? But if your first thought when someone is threatened is 'I'd rather die than see him die'? Well, there is a kind of selfishness, even in seflessness, that goes beyond 'liking', right...

It shouldn't have been such a shocking revelation though. Sure, Arthur could be a spoiled, royal prat; an irritating, pompous ass; an arrogant, moronic bully - to list but the top of the iceberg of his massive shortcomings, and without even mentioning the complete dollophead he could sometimes be. But Arthur could also be truly brave, honest, and kind; willing not only to trust but also to actually defend the words of mere servants, ready to defy his father's orders in order to save a child's life, and volunteering to help a village not even belonging to his Kingdom, to note only a few examples. Also: at some point, Merlin had realized how what could at first appear as near manhandling tactility was in fact just Arthur's disguised way to show (or ask?) affection (because one probably just doesn't walk around asking for cuddles while growing up between Uther's judging cold glares and Morgana's sharp witty tongue; and the physical occasional playfulness of the knights training must have seemed like the only way to go...). And last but not least: Merlin owed Arthur his life - if Arthur hadn't gone looking for a Mortaeus flower... So, in short: of course Merlin had gotten fond of the man. For his own values; and not because he was meant to be the other side of his coin or something. And notwithstanding how so annoyingly beautiful he always was (for the record on that particular subject: Gwen is so adorably beautiful, and Morgana so petrifyingly beautiful).

But, as Arthur - bound to be King one day Arthur - hadn't even hesitate before choosing to sacrifice himself, in order to fix what he had recognized to be his error, instead of using the (even offered) life of a simple servant? Well... There is a difference still between having the conviction that Arthur is a good man ready to fight for the greater good, even knowing it could be his death; and knowing as a FACT that Arthur *is* a good man ready to *die* for the greater good, even knowing it *will* be his death. And you bet having been proven *exactly* how pure of heart Arthur intrinsically is has only cemented that burgeoning love deeper into Merlin's heart - simply; truly; and maybe irrevocably. Merlin would now willingly die a thousand deaths to save his Prince.

.

(Feel free to shout with me about 1.11 because *MAJOR FEELS*!)

(And then hug me as I shamelessly cry because this is still NOTHING next to what’s to come - aka Arthur becoming ACHINGLY beautiful, as Merlin turns ready to KILL a thousands times to save his King, blackening his own heart in the process and thinking himself then unworthy of Arthur’s love because Arthur is just so BRIGHT; but wishing for it nonetheless?)

.

IV. PLANNING (MERLIN POV)

Arthur, miraculously (even though understandably; because he must be shaken too, right), is unaware of Merlin's internal crisis as he shares what he's uncovered until now: "It seems to be just us. The kitcheners and the guards all seem to be themselves."

"So. Whoever has done this is targetting you - personnally."

"Nice to see your wits are still so very particularly sharp, Merlin. Is there any reason for the one behind all this to be targetting you?"

It is beyond odd to *hear* Arthur's usual tone in his own voice; but Merlin still has the grace to sigh, before pushing his point further: "But why you?"

"Well, obviously *you*'ve forgotten, but I am Camelot's Crown Prince, responsib-."

"Which is exactly what's bothering me!" Merlin can't help but interject. "Why take on the Prince when you can take on the King?"

"Oh... Do you think... Could someone be... training on us, then? Before attacking-"

"I honestly have no idea. Maybe you got targetted indeed because you're head of security. We shouldn't rule anything out."

Arthur brings his fist down on the table, determinedly: "Well, whatever the evil plan might be, we just cannot permit for it to work. We'll have to find a way to stop this nonsense - no offense. In the meantime, we must act as if nothing unusual is going on. It might be for the time being our best chance at keeping Camelot safe - making whoever planned this think the spell didn't work?"

Merlin can't help but let out a helpless (yet realistic) sigh: "That's... a lot; on both accounts."

Arthur echoes with a helpless sigh of his own: "I know."

/

But if they are to keep up pretenses, Merlin is going to need to be prepared: "So. What's on your agenda for today - besides the monthly open pleas this morning and the daily training this afternoon?"

"Nothing particular. And there are no coming feasts nor abroad visits planned for the coming time, thankfully. (worried sigh) But there's concil, tomorrow."

"Well, let's start at the beginning. I should do fine enough for the pleas. It's mostly your father's duty; your presence is required, of course, but mostly you're to hear and listen..." Fear grips Merlin at once: "But it's public; so it would be a great opportunity to try to murder you!" He MUST protect Arthur's body: "Will you please go fetch your chainmail in my room?"

"No."

The tone is definitive, and Merlin is torn between begging, or growing impatient - because Arthur can be so obtuse sometimes (now really isn't the time for Arthur to be feeling indignation about being ordered around like a simple servant; even though he *is* one at the moment - not that Merlin would ever think he was one, of course - but what if Arthur thinks he does and enjoys the chance at some payback?): "Arthur, please (again?). It's the expected type of errands of the body you momentarily (because it MUST be momentarily, right?) inhabit - I can't - You're the target. I need your chainmail. I have no fighting skills, nor any kind of skills really to protect yo-"

"I cannot be seen wandering the castle in my chainmail without reason, Merlin; it would attract attention", Arthur interrupts in a somehow gentler tone; and Merlin realizes that Arthur hadn't registered at first how Merlin's concern was about him, more than himself - and is obviously humbled by the thought. "Court clothes are required, anyway. We're not supposed to look threatening, nor threatened, when our subjects come to present their wishes," Arthur pursues, killing any possible protest in the bud. "Besides, the guards will be present. So don't worry too much about anything happening to us", Arthur ends in a lower voice; as if the last part had been more a thought to reassure himself than a phrase meant to be uttered - and Merlin just has to savour that precious 'us'...

Merlin though isn't reassured enough about his Prince's safety: "Please (yes, that's thrice; adamant much?) Sire, at least allow me to wear your thickest leather under your tunic" - willing his voice to make it sound like a not-to-be-denied demand more than a true question.

Arthur holds his gaze; and it actually feels like a blessing when he finally relents: "As you wish; but it won't be comfortable against naked skin."

"I'll manage." Merlin can't help but fidget some before pursuing - asking Arthur to do what is and should be *his* work feeling not only weird but even wrong: "But I'll need your help to tie it in the back?"

Arthur dimissively tousles his hair, grumbling: "I *know*, Merlin." 'My clothes' going unsaid.

Merlin can be relieved about one thing, at least: Arthur obviously isn't piqued about doing a servant's work...

/

Merlin picks out the largest fitting of Arthur's clothes. He puts on the braies and trousers while still wearing the gown, respectfully tying the belt blindly around his waist. He puts on socks, and shoes. Then only does he take the gown off, and turns his back towards Arthur so that he may help with adjusting the leather's straps.

A surprised but definitely pleased whisper ("Impressive, ain't I?") echoes in Merlin's ears, as the Prat Prince seems apparently unable not to comment about his damn broad back, angling Merlin shortly that way and this way as if to assess it even better.

'Believe me, I know', Merlin can't refrain from thinking; feeling a blush coming over his face, and thankful that Arthur is too busy looking at his own back to notice any of it.

"I think I might even have outgrown Sir Leon - in width at least if not in height", Arthur concludes proudly before finally starting to work the ties - leaving Merlin suddenly ashamed of his initial internal reprimand, and oddly upset. Of course Arthur would only wish to see in his physique the strength of a warrior. Of course his first thought, when finally able to actually see his own back, would be to compare it to his given models - the Knights; and most of all among them, to his own chosen model, Leon - both the noblest and strongest of them all, yet young enough to play the part of the older brother Arthur could look up to while growing up... No one has probably ever told him that he is beautiful, Merlin realizes sadly. But the fact that Arthur is so unaware only makes him even more beautiful in Merlin's eyes...

Merlin forces himself to tease Arthur, hiding his turmoil under their usual banter: "Well, I could ask Gabriel to take measurements, if you so badly wish-"

"Shut up, Merlin", accompanied by a rewarding hit in the back of his right shoulder, which Merlin gladly revels in, no matter the unusual fist size. This, no matter their predicament, feels normal.

And in that short moment of normalcy, when everything feels just right as Arthur ends tying the leather, Merlin notices something he hasn't noticed before, when all he could feel was STRESS.

Oh no.

/

"Arthur?" Merlin can't help but wince at the intimidated tone in his voice as he turns around; and Arthur is eyeing him now with furrowed eyebrows. "I think I need - I mean you need... to... have to go?"

Arthur makes a face - with his face; except it still looks somehow like a typical outraged Arthur face (damn, this is just too confusing...): "Merlin!"

"He! Do not look at me like this is my fault! It's *YOUR* body! Maybe you shouldn't have drun-"

"Well, maybe you shouldn't have brought a full pitcher at dinner then!"

They eye each other, both unrelenting over who is at fault.

And Merlin can't help but think that somehow he is, indeed, no matter what. Because there are levels in intimacy; and he IS definitely crossing a line. There is a difference between being around and trying to avoid his gaze when Arthur walks in and out of his bath, or applying Gaius's healing balm to bruises on Arthur's back because it's a place Arthur can't reach on his own, and, well... watching and touching Arthur's *manhood*, even if only for urinating, technically ensuring no mess is done while doing it?

Arthur suddenly sighs though, and his voice sounds kinder as he offers: "This will surely happens a few times before we sort it all out, huh. To the both of us. So. How should we proceed?"

Merlin scratches his head, summoning some courage: "Do you want to... hold-"

"Your hand, Merlin!", Arthur demonstrates, lifting the would-be-culprit in the air and wiggling its fingers for good measure; and that's a 'No way' if Merlin ever heard one...

"Would you rather it to be your hand-"

"It's *your* hand right now!" Indeed. So. Another 'No way'.

But suddenly Merlin has a solution, of sort: "What if I... go sit into the stream? There's a quiet spot not so far from the castle I found while collecting herbs for Gaius... If I hurry I still can make it back before the pleas."

Arthur actually claps his hands, obviously relieved: "Sometimes, I swear, you are a genius." He hurries over, handing Merlin his tunic and grabbing the Pendragon red doublet before marching out: "Let's go!"

"You're coming?" (hastening to put the tunic on and grabbing a towel before following)

"Well, as I just said, it's bound to happen to me - you - so I might just as well tag along, and know where it is."

/

Once out of potentially spying ears reach, they plan the day further.

"We HAVE to tell Gaius, at the least, about our situation: no one will contest his word if he says you're not to train for a while - because honestly how am I supposed to spare with your Knights? They will notice right away that something isn't right. And, well..."

Merlin hesitates, not wanting to incriminate Gaius in any way. As it turns out, he doesn't have to:

"You're right. Besides, Gaius has heard about a lot of... stuff, in all his years. I was planning to go around Jeffrey and look for the forbidden books, but I have no ideas how many volumes are hidden down here, nor where they even *are* to start with... If anyone we know might have even the slightest clue about how to fix our problem, it's him; even if it's only about finding an adequate book."

Merlin nods, relieved: "So. After the pleas, I stage a fall, and we go to Gaius, who tells you're not to train for the time being. That leaves the rest of the day free, both for looking up about our situation, and briefing me on what I should be aware of for tomorrow's concil. Do you address things in an established order; who's whose specialisms; what you discussed by the latest concils which might be brought up again tomorrow; and so on..."

"I'm supposed to make the battle plans, Merlin? But as far as plans go, I have to admit this isn't a bad one. Except I'm not you; I do not trip on my feet twice a day. So. I'll make you fall. That's more plausible."

"No way! You'll end up in the stocks!" Merlin realizes how - no matter what he might have been thinking just a few months ago - he simply doesn't want Arthur in the stocks. Ever. "Which is NOT where you should be spending your afternoon." Merlin quickly amends; hiding his concern under logic's sake, knowing it to be the best way to persuade Arthur anyway. "So. You fall. I try to help you. But we both fall. I'm clumsy, as ever; you're noble, as always; everyone get to laugh at me, and praise you; and your father might skip punishing me for you getting hurt in the process, as you obviously didn't want me hurt to start with?" (pause, before adding earnestly, yet fiercely, as Merlin isn't able to tone back the surge of threat in his eyes at the mere idea of having anyone disrespecting Arthur in that way) "If he doesn't though, I'll stand guard next to you."

"Would you?" Arthur seems surprised; but touched: "Well, who knows, maybe I'll return the favor the next time."

Merlin can't refrain a whine: "The next time?"

"Even I can't save you from my father's wrath every time; it's bound to happen, either from your two left foots or your snarky mouth."

They can hear the water now, and Arthur accelerates towards it, as Merlin lags behind, unable not to smile:

"I guess I'm supposed to say 'thank you'?"

"I might have forgotten to mention I'll probably throw something in your face myself at the last moment. Prince's privilege and all that..." - Arthur even turns towards him, giving him one of his goofy faces to boot (Merlin didn't know *his* face could do *that*, by the way).

Merlin just keeps on smiling anyway. He probably hasn't felt that brightly, positively, ridiculously happy since "I'm rehiring you - because someone needs to muck out my stables". Arthur has a particular way to express fondness, and Merlin wouldn't change it for the world.

.

AN: Sorry? I’m cackling though. Poor boys, what they have to go through… Just remember it’s all Bradley’s fault anyway; none of this is on my head :)

.

V. THERE’S SOMETHING ABOUT MERLIN (ARTHUR POV)

Arthur is the first to reach the stream, and crouches down to test the water with his hand.

"It's cold", he warns, while Merlin walks in a straight line towards a tree with a low hanging branch and starts undressing - he does come here often, clearly.

Merlin shrugs: "Be grateful it's not winter yet. Try bathing around Imbolc - that's cold." Merlin goes on; stating an afterthought while hanging his pants on the branch: "Still worth it though; everything here is just more... alive, you know. You don't get that indoors."

And Arthur has bathed on patrols enough to know that, honestly?: he prefers his warm baths. He can't help but feel a smile on his face though at the words; they are so intrinsically Merlin.

/

Arthur had been struck, when they had met. No one had ever defied him, in any way. And it had stung; Arthur could admit. So. He had not been displeased at all when he had overmastered the fool and turned him over. The affront had been too public to be allowed to slide, and Arthur had decided he wouldn't dwell a further thought about the goodhearted fool (Arthur knew terrorrizing people wasn't right. He tended though to react badly whenever anyone acted cowardly (which was, well, all the time, around him); especially as he was actually *praised* for it somehow), but fool nonetheless, who should have known to mind his own business...

It had been nothing though in comparison to his surprise when their paths had crossed again. Arthur hadn't been able NOT to taunt him - hoping, somehow... But the last thing Arthur had been actually expecting had been for Merlin to act *exactly the same*. Surely, now that he knew who he was, he would just scrabble around him as anyone else - not defy him again, knowing it would get him in chains again, right? Arthur had been *delighted* by Merlin's untamable fire - the words, and then the look he had thrown at him while taking his jacket off? (Maybe Arthur had just been waiting all his life for someone to finally stand his ground to him, indeed...) Of course Arthur had let him go without punishment that second time - and any time since then (which was honestly difficult, as Merlin - always fighting for what was right more than for himself Merlin - frequently got riled up, be it in private OR IN PUBLIC, by literally anyone and anything).

Since he has been to Ealdor though, Arthur can't help but see things under a new light.

Hunith is everything Arthur believes a loving mother to be. But there had been no father at home, nor any mention of one. (Arthur knows the sting of this kind of wound - missing a parent; and he had been saddened, as he had realized that Merlin bore such a wound too.) Arthur hadn't dared to ask, but he had wondered: did Merlin ever got a father to start with; or had he been abandoned - intentionally or not? (Arthur knows how even an accident still feels akin to a betrayal in a child's heart.) Which would be the worst anyway? But what if Merlin had been bullied through his childhood because of it? - children could be particularly malicious, when they intended to... Was it how Merlin had learned, the hard way, that fighting - both with his words and his fists - was the only way to end the pestering? And had decided it wouldn't be only for his own sake, but for the sake of anyone who might ever need help? Was it what had brought Merlin close to Will - the fact that they both had lost their father? Was it the reason Will had wanted to learn magic to start with? (Arthur knows the near constant anger, too. As does Merlin, obviously.)

Arthur can't help but feel grateful anew, somehow, and no matter what, still, that Merlin has had Will around: surely, no matter how bad the fights Merlin had jumped into, Will must have kept him safe - at least safe enough - *with his magic*. The thought had been unbidden the first time it had occured, and had definitely surprised Arthur; but he hadn't been able to deny that it was what he truly felt indeed.

/

Because of course Arthur had come to care for Merlin. Isn't it why he had gone to Ealdor to start with after all...

Merlin.

Definitely not an ordinary manservant. And probably not the champion manservant by any book (fast learner, and smart, and hard working, he was; but only about what *he* deemed important - hence for example his total disregard for any kind of storage? - but Arthur generally agreed with what Merlin deemed important or not anyway). But honestly the only manservant Arthur now could imagine ever having - or ever want to have.

Because Arthur likes Merlin as his manservant exactly just the way he is, and would now never wish for another - no matter (and specifically because of) how well-schooled and zealous to satisfy his every need (and whim) that hypothetic other might be... Arthur now sees what others might judge flaws as assets (Merlin's clumsiness and chattiness are more endearing and uplifting than unefficient, especially as his opinions always sound reasonable; his sarcasm and insults are a sure way to keep Arthur's head from ever getting inflated; and his challenging manners push Arthur to do and be better - from training with the knights to saving people's lifes), and what others might judge insubordinate as being treated, for once, finally, as an equal, somehow (even though they both know and acknowledge they aren't) - and that's maybe what Arthur value the most: how Merlin's respect feels earned and honest, neither forced by birthright or fear for repercussions, nor cajoling or calculated.

Arthur has never had a private servant for longer than a year - his Father's rule; but you bet Arthur is decided about keeping Merlin at his side when the year would end. He will have to strategize; he will need irrefutable arguments. But if he plays his cards well - and Merlin never ceases to hand him over cards to play - Arthur has no doubt that his Father will actually allow it: it's in the best interest of the Kingdom after all.

Merlin.

A chatty nature-loving poet with dangly limbs, gentle heart, and the brightest smile Arthur has ever seen - Arthur has come to know. Yet the sassiest mouth and the most unrelenting fighter Arthur has ever met; his utter lack of skills balanced by sheer *defiance* - Arthur has learned right from the start. (Merlin just never backs off, no matter the odds; which is very stupid, but also very brave.)

A confusing, clashing mess of contraries. But an admirable man, with a beautiful soul.

And you bet Arthur wouldn't have him be any different.

Arthur shakes his head. Maybe - just like with his two left feet - it isn't Merlin's choice to be such a poet all the time. Arthur hasn't been inside Merlin's body for more than a few hours, and already he is turning into a maudlin bard himself, huh...

/

Arthur sighs; bringing himself back to the present - only to be struck by Merlin yet again.

Merlin has by now disrobed of everything except for the leather, which he has rolled up to his chest (logic; it would take too much time to tie it up all once more), and the tunic, which he now holds tightly in a bundle against his chest too, even if (and no doubt exactly because) it must get in his vision range as he enters the water. The lengths Merlin now goes again, simply to avoid to *see* - treating his body with the utmost respect, even when it is betraying him?

It should be insignificant, but the whole endeavour screams once more just how *devoted* Merlin always is, to him; and it is honestly dumbfounding.

He has been willing to die for me. And more than once.

The thought slices through Arthur's mind; as usual charged with guilt, and heartbreaking, yet oddly sweet.

Arthur doesn't understand: he has truly done very little to earn such high esteem - and that's an euphemism. Getting the man in the stocks? Letting him drink poison destined for him? Having his only friend die?

But you bet Arthur cherishes it all the same. And he wants - oh, he WANTS - to be worthy of it. Not because it's what he ought to do, repaying kindness with kindness, loyalty with loyalty; and definitely not because he owes Merlin a friend - you can't replace a friend (even if Arthur never actually had a friend, he knows that it's supposed to be a special, powerful, unique bond). Not even because Merlin does indeed makes him want to be a better man - even if that's true, and definitely positive for the future of Camelot. But simply because HE. WANTS. TO. Arthur has realized by now how he is always tempted, whenever they are together: either to act silly in order to cause a smile; or to provoke Merlin until he bites. Both reactions feel peculiarly satisfying; spreading a pleasant warmth through his whole being - and Arthur just always has to smile...

So.

On impulse, Arthur disrobes Merlin's lower half and enters the (indeed very cold) water while holding his tunic bundled up too, keeping his eyes stubbornly fixed on his own body sinking until the water reaches up to above its waist, as Merlin sits on his knees in the middle of the stream. And yes, the fact that Arthur has just chosen to abide by Merlin's stubborn dedication on that matter, instead of letting his perpetual interest about literally everything run free, for once, (because yes, if he hadn't witnessed Merlin's commitment, Arthur might have taken a look at Merlin's body, out of sheer curiosity; he wouldn't though, not from now on...), is both a pledge and a self-serving whim.

Merlin, drawn by the sounds, turns to him with questioning eyebrows, and Arthur sheepishly drops on his knees next to him: "I thought it unfair to let you have all the fun on your own. Now, ready to scare the fish?"

Merlin howls with laughter. Arthur decides it's definitely worth playing silly while freezing his ass off.

.

(Imbolc = 31 january)

Feel free to come and fangirl with me over 1.01 and then scream with me over 1.10 !

On a side note, I’m sorry but not sorry about that fish line? It was *totally* unplanned but then it just rolled out and I went ‘yep, sure, arthur would, totally; it stays!’ ?

[whirlybirbs]

I am in love with your writing! Absolutely love it. How about Merlin x trainee!reader where Merlin is teaching how to get out of various knots and it turns into light bondage and lots of sexual tension that Merlin knows he's inflicting on the reader.

mmmm yes merlin x trainee!reader is full of tension and sneaky around and i love it.

merlin x trainee!reader ; tactical knots.

You’d made it relatively far in the screening process. With only five more candidates vying for the position of Agent Percival, this gave the rest of you time to pick up new skills and learn in an open classroom setting new tactics to save either your own hide or your pal’s.

And now here you are, hands bound to the back of a chair while Merlin paces back and forth in front of you, explaining knot techniques to your four other competitors.

Had it been anyone else doing this, tying you up in intricate knots, you wouldn’t have had such a flushed look on your face. Seriously, put Arthur or maybe Galahad up here… Merlin knows exactly what he was up to.

It was a well-kept secret that you two had been… intimate these last few months.

Perhaps seducing the Kingsman Chief of Operations wasn’t your smartest move, but in all honesty you really hadn’t meant to. Merlin could firmly say that falling head over heels for a recruit was the last thing he needed. He was a busy man with no time for romance, but…

All you have to do is look at him and he nearly falls apart. For god’s sake, you were smart and kind and humble and gorgeous. It was hard to tell you no, honestly, but Merlin can’t say he minds. He’s told you before that this isn’t allowed, but you’re so deep in this you don’t care. He’s not complaining.  Especially not if you’re dragging him into coat closets with every chance you get just to prove the point.

The recruits really didn’t need to learn how to get out of knots this intricate. It was a very rare situation they most likely wouldn’t find themselves in, however Merlin had a score to settle.

You’d left a rather nasty hickey above his collar. It was dark purple and angry, a mark of lust that left Merlin the topic of discussion through the entire Tech Department. He swore, if anyone else asked him who the lucky girl was…

And so now here you are, tightly bound in the metal chair behind him and he can hardly hold back a smirk. When Elliot, the strapping lad from Devonshire, raises his hand and asks about how to remove himself from a chest bind, Merlin nearly laughs in his face. These kids are making it too easy.

As if today hadn’t been tough enough - Merlin had strayed from his usual outfit choice and opted simply for a white dress shirt and tie. With sleeves pushed up past his elbows, he looks a bit more rugged than usual. Though, the heat was no doubt to blame for it. Afternoon PT nearly killed the lot of you. That didn’t change how hard it was to not oogle at Merlin though, and you swear that girl Emelie had seen you sneak him a wink during today’s Topography lesson. Merlin slipped over his words then, surging your pride.

That was short lived, though.

You’re inwardly cursing now, knee bouncing up and down as you wait for this all to be over. Merlin is a smug bastard, eyes meeting your own as he slips a wink your way. His smirk is simply devilish.

“Good question, Elliot,” Merlin rumbles as he circles behind your chair, bending at the knees to grasp another length of rope. “Chest binds are a bit more difficult.”

You could have died right then and there, you swear. Crouched in front of you, Merlin works skillfully to loop a series of tight knots across your chest. You feel like your face is on fire. Calloused hands move as if he’s done this a thousand times before, and you try your best to ignore the smug look he’s giving you as he ties the knots. His voice is a low rumble, quiet enough that only you can hear it.

“Payback’s a bitch, isn’t she, love?”

[tap-dat-agent]

Who Knew? (Merlahad) 5/?

a/n: sorry this took so long. real life is blah

Part 5

Roxy rolled, dropped down to one knee, and had him cowering before the waiting room couch almost upon entry. The shotgun in her hand never wavered, she seemed about her wits enough, and still Eggsy questioned her fucking sanity as she shot into the tailor shop.

“Friendly!” Eggsy shouted, shielding the back of his head. “I’mma friendly, for fuck’s sake!”

The shooting stopped.

“…Eggsy?”

“Yes!” Eggsy flung his arms out indignantly, jumping up and away from the couch, because Roxy had just fucking shot at him. “It’s me!”

“Shit…!” Roxy dropped her gun a rushed him in one fell swoop of a bone-crushing hug. Eggsy reciprocated in kind, clutching onto her for dear life. “I thought you were dead.”

“Same, mate,” Eggsy breathed, tightening his hold, the onslaught of waterworks threatening to pour out of him stopped by the quick shut of his eyes. “Same.”

They stayed like that for what seemed like an eternity, and Eggsy was grateful for it. Roxy appeared no worse for wear, cognizant and competent enough to take lethal aim and shoot off a few powerful shells in the darkened tailor shop. Still, doubt and confusion lingered in the back of his head, and Eggsy needed clarification to go with his reality.

“I don’t understand.” Eggsy eased off first, though, reluctant to pull away. “How?”

The two set up on the couch and talked it out, a couple of shotgun holes decorating the backrest between them.

Roxy detailed her ordeal of the explosion and how she got out alive. Eggsy struggled to fathom every word out of her mouth, it felt like something from a movie, but then so had his entire life up to that point.

“Balyn and Balan?”

“Turns out they work for the service, right under Arthur. They keep onsite but at a distance, monitoring our activities, the attack being the very reason they do.”

“Makes sense…” Eggsy nodded his head, as he found himself dumbly nodding his head throughout, his eyes never blinking as Roxy addressed his undying curiosity. “Percival’s still alive?”

“On a mission, as far as I know,” Roxy replied, smiling fondly at the thought of the other man. Eggsy grinned, glad to know the other agent still breathed, thinking Roxy must have felt the same way he did when he found out Harry was still alive…that Merlin was still alive. “He’s since reestablished communications with Balyn and Balan.”

“And they let you out, even though it was against protocol?”

“I think they were really just trying to keep me safe until the dust settled. I still had dossiers on high-level criminals working in international drug trafficking. Still had information on the organization the Golden Circle. I was sitting on a goldmine and it seemed negligent of me not to pursue my intel, so they let me go.”

“What you find on your end?”

“Not as much as you and the Statesman, apparently, but enough to take down a domestic distribution network. They used the docks and private jets into London as a means for transportation. With Balyn and Balan’s help, I managed to take out their supply of toxic drugs.”

“That’s incredible.” Eggsy beamed at Roxy. “You’re incredible.”

Roxy went red, not used to flattery of this sort, but managed a small smile all the same.

“Thanks, Eggsy…still, it wasn’t enough,” she sighed, looking him up and down. “It was you. You and Statesman saved the day. Balyn and Balan reported in on all of it.”

“You’d like the Statesman, Roxy, they’re good people,” Eggsy insisted, but then he remembered Tequila. “Well, most of them…I think.” He eagerly thought of getting Lancelot and Percival stateside. He only wished more agents had survived and maybe, just maybe, they had. Maybe, when all was said and done, they could invest some time into confirming the deaths of their agents rather than buying into the Scorched Earth, Every Man for the Mission mentality of the founding fathers.

Eggsy realized it was standard procedure for Kingsman to wipe its hands of the fallen, pay their respects, and keep it moving. That’s what they’d done with his dad, after all. When he died, Harry didn’t have to pay him and his mum a visit. He’d admitted to Eggsy having done so out of obligation to his father and because he gave a fuck about him.

“I didn’t know a thing ‘bout the doomsday protocol,” Eggsy admitted, frowning. “Got blindsided by it. At least I had Merlin. Who’s to say the others are dead, right? What if some of them made it out, like?” Eggsy shook his head, looking away. “You’d think Kingsman would afford some fucking due diligence.”

“…What are you saying?”

“I’m saying…” What was he saying, exactly? Eggsy had to think on it for a bit. “I think some things need a change in Kingsman.”

“Tell that to the investors,” Roxy huffed, looking around the tailor shop. “Looks to me they’re rather fond of keeping things exactly the same.”

“Investors?”

“The founding families,” Roxy replied, as though it were obvious. “They didn’t just disappear. Who do you think rebuilt the tailor shop?”

“Statesman funds,” Eggsy answered, plainly.

Roxy cocked her head, smirking. “Who told you that?”

The front door of the shop opened with some rustling as Harry appeared with his remaining eye roaming the floor around him. Opening the interior entrance revealed him and a growing puppy scampering around his feet from a leash.

“Good lord,” came the first words to escape from Harry’s lips, his eye ascending to the scattered evidence of a one-sided firefight. “What the bloody hell happen?”

“Galahad…?”

Oh shit, Eggsy thought, staring wide-eyed at Roxy. He knew he’d forgotten something. In the mist of almost getting his head shot off and the jubilation of seeing Roxy not dead, Eggsy never thought to mention Harry’s resurrected status. Granted, the look on her face was priceless. Roxy looked as though she’d a ghost, which wasn’t all that inaccurate.

Eggsy felt bad, he really did, but Roxy’s bug-eyed staring up at the man was endearing to the say the least.

“Roxy,” Harry greeted, calmly, standing in stark contrast to the animated dog huffing and wagging its tail at his side. “It’s been a while.”

“Eggsy, what the fuck is going on?” Roxy turned on Eggsy, horrified. “Please tell me you’re seeing what I’m seeing…why are you laughing?!”

“I’m so, so sorry,” Eggsy said, holding his hands to his mouth, near tears with laughter. “I honestly forgot to mention Harry.”

“You didn’t tell her?” Harry’s stern stare only compounded the entertainment value of the situation. The look he offered Roxy was far gentler. “It’s me, Roxy. Harry Hart.” Harry smiled. “I am indeed alive.”

“Does Merlin know?” Roxy asked and Harry stood silently, initially put-off by the question.

“Yes, he knows.”

“I-I don’t understand.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to,” Harry eyed Eggsy, “that’s why I thought he might explain.”

Eggsy pointed a finger at Roxy and pouted. “She shot at me.”

“Hey!”

“How was I supposed to keep a straight head after that?”

“Snitch.” Roxy hissed, punching him in the arm, and Eggsy quickly faked like it hurt.

“No matter,” Harry sighed, all but rolling his eye at the pair. “They’ll be plenty of time to explain on the flight back to Statesman.”

“You taking the dog with us?” Eggsy asked and, as if on cue, the dog leapt up into Eggsy’s lap and proceeded to attempt to lick his face.

“I thought he could be of some company to someone.” Eggsy and Harry shared a knowing smile. “Besides, I hated the idea of leaving him alone for so long. Since the timeline of our next mission appears rather unclear, I would rather leave him at Statesman headquarters until further notice.”

“Your next mission?” Roxy looked between the two. “Is it classified?”

“Not from a fellow Kingsman,” Harry supplied, warmly, offering Roxy a reaffirming nod. “If we leave now, we can return to Statesman facilities with enough time to retool our plan to include your involvement. You’re welcome, however, to stay here and run interference with Balyn and Balan if you so choose.”

“You know ‘bout Balyn and Balan?”

“Of course,” Harry replied. “Only something a catastrophic as Kingsman’s ruin could get those two to communicate with anyone other than Arthur, but I digress.”

“I’m going with you,” Roxy declared, shakily fixing her glasses.

“Good,” Harry said, grinning from ear to ear in his own, reserved way. “I had hoped that you might.”

The dog climbed over Eggsy to excitedly traverse the stranger that was Roxy.

“I need a drink,” Roxy heaved, mindlessly petting the dog.

“Where we’re going there’s no short supply,” Eggsy said, grinning nonstop. “Trust.”

Roxy knew everything, by the time they got back to Statesman. Eggsy filled her in on how it’d been Charlie Hesketh, then a full-blown henchman, whose cybernetic appendage breached Kingsman security and hacked into their mainframe in order to uncover the locations of every Kingsman agent and destroy them with missile attacks. Eggsy and Harry elaborated on the finer details of their escapades in bringing down Poppy Adams, a high-level operative within the Golden Circle, the very organization Roxy had been working before the attack.

Having to tell her that Merlin had been presumably killed by a detonated mine had been the worst of it. Not even the joy of getting to tell her that he was very much alive, found in better shape than anyone could have hoped for, was enough to erase the grief from her eyes. At different intervals of the flight, she kept asking if the man was really alright. Given the specifics of his would-have-been death, Eggsy didn’t blame her for wanting to make absolutely fucking sure.

That’s when Harry divulged the details of their current mission of taking down the rest of the Golden Circle and uncovering what their intentions involved regarding weaponized robotics and artificial intelligence.

“Whoever saved Merlin is capable enough to be worth more alive than dead,” Harry surmised, with a drink in hand, considering Eggsy and Roxy carefully. “I suspect that one of our targets is more than aware of that fact.”

Whiskey greeted Harry, Eggsy, and Roxy with a look of desperation.

“Agent Whiskey,” Harry said, motioning towards Roxy. “This is Agent Lancelot. Agent Lancelot, this is Agent Whiskey.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Whiskey said, breathlessly, hospitality breaking through the urgency in her eyes. She extended a hand which Roxy stepped forward to shake.

“Likewise,” Roxy said, silently delighted by the sight of another woman. “I look forward to working with you.”

“Likewise,” Whiskey said, smiling.

“Something’s wrong,” Harry declared, after quick observation, and Eggsy had to bite back the urge to say, ‘No shit’.

“I’m sorry,” Whiskey confirmed, going back to clutching at her clipboard.

“Whatever for?” Harry asked.

Whiskey shook her head, clearly defeated, and Harry, Eggsy, and Roxy looked between themselves with confusion.

The dog at Harry’s side moseyed up to her to rub its head against her leg, almost as if out of pity.

“I tried to stop him, but, he insisted,” Whiskey explained, leading them to the control room. They arrived at the sight of Merlin, in a wheelchair, sitting before the room’s largest console. He seemed oblivious to them, at first, in his own world of schematics, blueprints, and criminal profiles.

“You’re unbelievable,” Harry declared from across the room, his voice being what caught Merlin’s attention.

“Ah, you’re back.” Merlin maneuvered his wheelchair around to see them. “I told Elizabeth already, I’ve no intention of being an inval—”

Merlin stopped short when he spotted Roxy standing at Eggsy’s side.

“Roxy?” He readjusted his glasses, squinting hard, pressing on the wheels of his wheelchair to close the distance between them. “No…”

He was very noticeably without legs, the bottoms of his trousers flailing out with nothing giving them weight, and Eggsy could look nowhere but at the evidence of his own careless mistake.

Roxy didn’t even say anything, meeting Merlin halfway with a tight hug around his shoulders. Merlin’s eyes went rounder than they already were, his glasses dipping low, but he quickly melted into the embrace with a few gentle pats against Roxy’s back.

“You’re alive,” Eggsy heard her muffled voice say against Merlin’s sweater shirt.

“Funny,” Merlin said, his tone lighthearted despite the somberness in his eyes. “I can say the same thing of you, now.” Roxy pulled back, her eyes glistening. “Where’ve you been?”

“Balyn and Balan,” Harry answered for her, gaining Merlin’s inquisitive stare as he approached. Merlin offered the other man an understanding nod, a smile growing on his face. “Would you believe it. They’re still alive?”

“Are they capable of death?” Merlin joked, and the two smiled even more stupidly at each other. Eggsy moved farther into the room, followed by Whiskey, but stood a bit back to take in the scene before him. He got a bit choked up, he wouldn’t lie, seeing Roxy hang herself around the scruffy and gaunt Merlin as he sat in a high-tech wheelchair, sans legs, attempting normality. Harry was just the icing on the cake. He seemed genuinely happy to see his longtime colleague, friend, and probable fuckbuddy out and about despite clearly desiring the opposite.

“Merlin,” Harry admonished, “what are you doing?”

“You know what I’m doing,” Merlin answered, squaring off. “I’m working support. Can’t allow you lot in the field without your eyes and ears.”

“You require bedrest.”

“What I require, Harry, is to contribute,” Merlin said, somewhat heatedly, his voice having long since regained its strength. “You of all people should know I wouldn’t just sit idle.”

“Merlin,” Eggsy eased in, thinking to intervene. “You’re looking better.” He really was. Still not shaven but clearly able enough to have had a wash, his attentive eyes darting from behind the perfect fit of his glasses, proving at the very least that he could do without lying out in hospital bed all day. “Wouldn’t you agree, Harry?”

Harry’s eye darkened in Eggsy’s direction to which Eggsy raised an eyebrow in kind.

“…Fine.”

“Perfect,” Merlin said, decidedly satisfied, unrelentingly smiling at Harry. “I’ll get back to my duties, then.”

Merlin rolled back over to his chosen console, an incessant need to be active about him. If he felt five pairs of eyes on him, including the dog’s, he succeeded in ignoring them as he continued his work. Roxy looked to Eggsy questioningly, worriedly, and all he could offer back was a shake of his head and a shrug of his shoulders.

“…What’s the god damn hold up?” Tequila’s voice came blundering in, cutting through the inescapable tension emanating from Harry and Merlin like a blunt butter knife. “This bird’s ready to fly, so it’s best time we set our sights for the sky—why, hello there.”

Tequila sauntered into the room, approaching Roxy with a devilish smile.

“We’ve been blessed with another fine-looking thing to grace our presence.”

“Eggsy,” Roxy uttered, “who is this walking, talking, American stereotype?”

“Agent Tequila, this is Agent Lancelot. Agent Lancelot, this is Agent Tequila.”

“Charmed.” Tequila tipped his hat, Roxy offered a tolerant smirk, and Eggsy tried not to hurt himself with how far back his eyes rolled. “Support Man, you all setup with the essentials?”

“Good to go.” Merlin tossed out a thumb’s up.

“Well, alright then,” Tequila looked to the others in triumph. “Might I suggest we retire this party to the plane? We got plenty of ground to cover.”

“Merlin, you’ll be alright, yeah?” Eggsy had to ask, worried as fuck over the unusually high-strung man. There was still the reality of his missing legs, still questions about how a man once of such a tall stature could now adjust to a life of disability, and just how real was the determination in Merlin’s eyes? Or was it simply him trying to pretend that everything was the same, that everything was alright?

“I’m better than alright.” Merlin circled around with his wheelchair, smiling still. “Now you lot go before the window of opportunity closes for good.” Merlin circled back around to operate the console.

“Merlin’s right,” Whiskey said, addressing her clipboard. “With the additional resources at our disposal, we still have enough time now to expand our objective. With a go-ahead from Champ, we can take out the target and simultaneously retrieve any information regarding the missing scientists and technology.”

“Sounds lovely,” Harry said, in quick agreement, his eyes never leaving the back of Merlin’s bald head. “If you insist on pushing the limits of your recovery, may I provide you a companion of sorts?”

“Oh?” Merlin turned around again, his interest piqued by something else, for once. Harry let go of the leash in his hand and, as if on cue, the tiny dog at his side rushed its way towards Merlin. “The dog Eggsy got you?”

“Yes, that one,” Harry said, and Eggsy spied with his squinty eyes a bit of fondness in the warm brown of Harry’s eye as Merlin wrapped the end of the leash around one hand and hoisted the dog into his lap.

Merlin held the dog up from under its front legs like a newborn.

“What’s his name?”

"Hamish.”

The look on Merlin’s face was remarkable, a cross between amusement and something more nuanced that was clear even to Eggsy. I mean, he wasn’t an imbecile, not the complete and total tit people thought he was because of the way he spoke, his estate upbringing, and a fondness for designer clothes making him nothing more than a Chav in the eyes of many.

Eggsy knew what love looked like.

“You died,” Harry explained, filling in Merlin’s silence. “I thought it fitting.”

“Indeed,” Merlin said, looking back at the dog. “Hamish’s a fine name, if I do say so myself. He’ll make a fine addition to the team.” Merlin placed the dog back into his lap and proceeded to stroke behind its ears, that look he’d been giving Harry unchanging. “I’ll take good care of him.”

“Ain’t that sweet?” Tequila cooed, jokingly. “Time’s ticking, ladies and gents.”

The team nodded Merlin their goodbyes and he do so in kind, all the while, petting Hamish.

[bellamyblakru]

“I have you, it’s okay.” + Merthur 💛 also omg I'm so glad you want to get into writing I can't wait to read it!

thank you so much🥺, you guys have been too kind😭😭 im so excited!! i really love writing, but i learned from that first one that it’s exhausting 😂 gah i love merthur, lets do this (also, the knights are all alive bc i love them//shade lancelot did happen but merlin brought him back for good good) ALSO, this drabble really ran for more than i was actually going for lmfao im sorry its so long

Merlin didn’t know how he wanted Arthur to find out about his magic. Most of Merlin’s recurring nightmares consist of the possibility that Arthur will react the wrong way. After all these years, Merlin dying on the pyre wouldn’t be the worst situation. What Merlin truly dreaded the most was the inevitable betrayal that he would see in Arthur’s eyes, the look he gets when someone he loves hurts him in the most personal way. The look where Arthur thinks he is the problem, not those betraying him. Agravaine, Morgana, Gwen, and even shade-Lancelot made Arthur vulnerable enough for him to love them just to be stabbed in the back one way or another because of it. Arthur blames himself when his people turn their backs on him, and Merlin refuses to get that look from Arthur.

 Killing Merlin, as horrible as it sounds, would probably be kinder. Merlin cares more for Arthur than words could describe. It wasn’t because of prophecy, or because Arthur was a good person and an even better King, it was because Merlin loves Arthur. It is as simple as that. Merlin loves the way Arthur smirks when bantering, the way he smiles when he is helping someone in need, the way he fights for his people, the way he never gives up hope no matter what happens or who they face, the way his eyes light up when sparring with his knights. Imagining Arthur shutting him out, away from his light, was a staggering enough thought that kept Merlin quiet.

At first, it was because of Uther. Merlin wouldn’t make Arthur pick between them, even if Merlin always thought that Arthur would always pick Uther. Then it was Morgana, then it was every little excuse that allowed Merlin to push back the truth further behind his happy facade. Arthur expressed his hatred of magic enough to let Merlin understand that he wouldn’t be accepted...even if Merlin was magic itself. 

There has never been a person more devoted to another human than Merlin to Arthur. Without one, there was no other. The castle knew this, as did the knights. Gwaine and Lancelot would tease him relentlessly about his love for Arthur, but even they did not know the half of his dedication to the Once and Future King. 

Merlin is the most powerful warlock to ever walk to earth, and he was terrified to tell his best friend his two deepest secrets. The warlock part, of course, and the part where Merlin’s entire existence was to serve, protect, and love Arthur to his dying breath. Merlin believes that Arthur might have an inkling that Merlin is truly in love with him, but Arthur never let too much show between them if he does know. Servant and King. The one born because of magic and the one born made of magic. Two sides, one coin (if the large reptile had a say in this). They were like the sun and the moon, destined to rotate but not touch. Arthur was Merlin’s sun, his light, his hopes, his destiny. 

Today was hunting day for Arthur, which meant Merlin pretended to grumble the whole morning about spending time with the knights and the king simply so he could see Arthur’s eyes light up with that playful glow. The Knights of the Roundtable were with them today, to Merlin’s delight. Gwaine and Lancelot were finally getting closer to each other through Merlin, and he couldn’t be more enthusiastic about it. They were the closest to brothers he ever had, and he was so grateful to have them in his life. Lancelot was welcomed back after the whole scandal since Morgana was outed, but Gwen decided to permanently end things with Arthur. Merlin was upset they weren’t together anymore, but Arthur did not seem too distraught about the news. Arthur probably sees the way Lancelot looks at Gwen and figured he couldn’t compete with that love, which made Merlin’s heart clench painfully.

Merlin was riding beside Arthur when the unimaginable happened. The forest was quiet in the way that made Merlin’s magic crawl, but no one seemed concerned with his fears. Merlin knew better. Right before the army ambushed, Merlin simply looked at Arthur. Arthur looked like he was bathing in sunlight, with a golden halo and his sparking sword hanging by his side, laughing at something Gwaine was talking about. Merlin’s life was Arthur’s well-being, and if it meant Arthur hated him for the rest of his life, then so be it.

The minute they entered the clearing, the laughter died. The knights reacted immediately with their King leading the way, swinging off their horses and preparing for battle. The army wasn’t too big, but it was Morgana’s—meaning magic users of different degrees everywhere. Her army did not look impressive, but the true power was in the hidden fact that each one of her soldiers wielded some magic. Merlin could feel it in the air. He could almost taste the potential power these people had, and he knew today was the day he has been dreading since he realized his love for Arthur.

Today was the day of Merlin’s betrayal—but it was the only choice. Arthur’s safety goes beyond what Merlin wanted..it always would, no matter how this ended.

Merlin didn’t waste any more time. He spelled the knights and his king to the ground with one look, saw the shocked expressions on different faces (he didn’t dare look at Arthur yet), but he did not let himself ponder them for too long. He thought up a shield then, putting those he loved in a bright, golden bubble of protection. Knowing they were safe allowed Merlin to relax for a second before turning his attention to the problem coming at him. He counted thirty sorcerers, with Morgana leading the charge. He took a second to truly look at Morgana. Her hair was matted, her clothing ripped, her eyes were darkened by the nightmares she is no doubt plagued with. He felt such pity and sorrow at that moment, a feeling so intense that time itself stopped around him. 

He walked up to Morgana, whose eyes were frozen gold with fury. He saw Aithusa in the back, and allowed time to continue for her alone. He spoke quietly to her, telling her how he is sorry for letting her stray so far and how he wasn’t there for her when she needed him the most. Aithusa, although weary, came closer to Merlin and let him pet her nose. Through the connection, she could see why Merlin wasn’t there for her, or more precisely, who Merlin had to protect above everyone and everything else. Aithusa, by command of Merlin, left then to Kilgharrah who would see to her recovery. Feeling better that his kin would be seen to after this, he focused his attention back to Morgana.

He then unfroze her. She, unexpectedly freed, fell to the ground. She was petrified, Merlin could tell. Her destiny, her doom. He was who she feared at night, who kept her awake after the nightmares, the one who poisoned her for the love of Camelot. Morgana was many things, but a coward is not one of them. She stood her ground, as regally as one can manage after falling, and looked Merlin in the eyes. What she wasn’t expecting was the pain she saw, for her. She started, not understanding his emotion. Quickly, too quickly for anyone to comprehend, Merlin grabbed both sides of her face and chanted with such sadness and despair. He pleaded to the earth’s magic to take her powers, and to use them for good, to help those in need. The earth responded kindly to his request, and it did what was asked of it. Morgana quickly fell asleep in Merlin’s arms, while Merlin was slowly crying over his lost, hurting friend. 

Time unfroze. The army halted, seeing Morgana’s magic flowing into the earth, and decided that a retreat would be more beneficial than attacking Emrys. Merlin could feel the magic leave Morgana, leaving behind a broken girl who’s heart has been hurt too many times to be fair. She deserves another chance, Merlin pleaded once more, and with that thought, the earth healed her enough to be able to live without her powers. She will live, the ground whispered to Merlin, and he tried to choke back a sob. Arthur could have another chance with his sister, and Gwen could finally have her best friend back—if Morgana wished, of course. Gwaine came behind Merlin and slowly peeled her away from him. Merlin staggered up, never using that much raw power before in his life, and started swaying. 

“I have you, it’s okay,” Merlin thought he heard Arthur quaver to him. Strong arms picked him up, and although Merlin was slowly fading, he swore he saw an angel lift him up, crying about how much Merlin meant to him. He passed out before he could make sense of it.

What isn’t said here is the simple fact that Arthur loves Merlin. Arthur loves the way Merlin smiles when he knows he is being sassy, the way his nose crinkles when he disagrees with something Arthur has said, the way Merlin’s eyes look when he says something abnormally wise to Arthur. Arthur is who he is because Merlin believes in him and magic isn’t going to throw it away. Arthur may not understand what just happened, but it wasn’t destructive, or cruel, or evil. It was pure, beautiful magic that only aimed to save the people around it—and wasn’t that who Merlin was at the end of the day? The magic felt like home, like love, so like Merlin that Arthur’s breath caught in his throat. 

He didn’t feel betrayed, surprisingly. He was hurt that Merlin couldn’t trust something so vital, so beautiful about himself because Arthur’s father was a tyrant and drilled something so wrong into Arthur’s mind. But never again will Arthur be swayed by his father’s ghost. Merlin saved him, probably more times than he could count as he continues looking back on their adventures. 

Arthur loves Merlin as much as Merlin loves Arthur, so he knows that no matter what happens after today, that fact will never change.