#like good lord... he can speak without all caps? Thank merlin

[puppypawprintce]

i do enjoy book harry.. i think it's nice getting to know all his inner thoughts and questions and turmoils. also the way chapter 2 of order is just every weird, unexpected thing happening all at once. i didn't remember any of this happened

petunia's howler got me. like what a great way to finish off all the madness in that family discussion (if you can call it that, more like an interrogation) the relief and catharsis of harry actually being listened to. as well as the moment where he, assumedly expelled, is like you literally can't hurt me nothing i cast will harm me any more than i already am

and also just the raw conversation about voldemort is refreshing too. like good lord finally SOMEONE else is thinking sensibly, and is pale-faced at the notion of him returning. i wanted to gnaw on a stick this whole chapter, but nonetheless good start im very excited to keep reading

[rosemaidenvixen]

In the Fullness of Time

Chapter 4: Years Past

Ao3

Content warning: Classist language, Violation of bodily autonomy without knowledge or consent

Merlin swore as the carriage went over yet another bump.

“A thousand pardons Lord Merlin sir!” Galahad called from outside “Road’s a bit rough out this ways,”

Rough, that was a gentle way to put it. Was this an actual road or were they driving over a legion of troll remains? This was no way for a Master Wizard to travel, but where he was going his preferred forms of magical transportation would not be...well received “How much longer Galahad?”

Without warning the carriage jerked to a stop, Merlin letting out a whole string of curses as he was nearly thrown from his seat.

“We’ve arrived! Mind your boots, ground’s a touch muddy,”

“...Thank you for the warning,” Merlin grumbled, getting to his feet and opening the carriage door.

If anything Galahad had understated the conditions. The road, if one applied the term quite loosely, was nothing more than a coarse dirt track that went from the larger, more maintained road to their destination. Thoroughly churned by countless wagons and boots until it was a quagmire of mud and rubish, reaching ankle deep in places.

Merlin let out a sigh, resigned himself to the inevitable filth, and stepped down, grimacing as his boots sank into the muck. The small company of knights around him dismounted with a clatter of metal and leather. Galahad himself hopped off the front of the carriage and jogged up to face Merlin “What are your orders sir?”

“That won’t be necessary,” Merlin said while gracefully stepping around the knight “You and your men may stand down, I shall deal with this myself,”

Moving with surprising speed, Galahad ran forward and once again blocked his path “With all due respect, I cannot do that, the king’s orders are that all unregistered magic users be investigated by a company of trained knights, no exceptions,”

Merlin barely suppressed a grumble, it was rather impressive how Arthur managed to be both brilliant and a fool “Very well then, set up a perimeter around this…” he glanced warily at the buildings ahead of them “village...don’t want any surprises coming in or getting out,”

“Right on then,” Galahad turned towards the knights “You heard the man, spread out and surround the village! No surprises in or out,”

The knights all rushed to obey, Galahad joining them, as Merlin walked up the road straight into the thicket of buildings. He could have easily handled this by himself, no need for busybodies gumming up the works. But Arthur insisted on the knights’ presence to...what was it? Reassure the masses…

Merlin spared a glance at the people of the hamlet as he passed through. 

Men and women in clothes just as patchy and ragged as the buildings around them lined either side of his path. As soon as they noticed his presence they parted like all of the sea, ducking inside buildings and hurrying down alley ways. Some peeked at him out of cracked windows and doors while speaking to each other in hushed whispers. A precious few stood their ground, glaring openly at Merlin as he passed by, nearly drawing a laugh out of the Wizard. 

Ignorant rabble the lot of them. 

Fools who spent their lives with noses buried so deep in the dirt they couldn’t be bothered to look up at the stars.

There had been a time in his youth that he longed to teach people like these. To use his powers to help those that lacked the tools to help themselves. To bring enlightenment to those that clung stubbornly to the dark.

Had he ever really been that young?

Merlin shook his head to dispel the daydreams. 

More likely than not this so-called sorcerer was someone that happened to swear right as a pitcher of milk was falling to the floor. Soon enough Merlin could clear this all up and be on his way. As it was all he wanted was to get back to Camelot and have his boots cleaned to a polish. 

A space opened up in front of him as he reached the heart of the village, Merlin paused and glanced around. Most decent sized settlements surrounding Camelot had a central building of sorts, usually used for storage and official gatherings. Even smaller communities had squares that served much of the same purpose.

This town, if it was large enough to truly be considered that, had neither of those things. The only sort of central feature present was a modest stone well, which a large crowd was gathered around.

“--which is why we need to burn him!” a woman’s voice screeched “We cannot tolerate this evil blight in our midst!”

“And anger the demons who made him? Are you mad!? No, we have to sink him in the bog, give him back to his own,” 

“I’m not touching him! You know what Fae do to those who mess with them and theirs, best to wait for the king’s men to come, let them deal with--”

“We’re wasting time! Just give me a barrel and a cartful of peat and I’ll do the job myself!”

Merlin cleared his throat softly, just loud enough to make the gathered crowd turn in his direction. Upon sighting him nearly every one of them gasped and staggered back in alarm. Only three held their ground, two men and a woman, the one who so fiercely advocated for burning if he remembered right.

He allowed his face to mold into the placating smile he so often used when discussing magic with those who hadn’t the slightest idea how it worked “Good morrow to you folk, I am Merlin Ambrosius, here on behalf of the king. Now I understand you’ve been having trouble with a sorcerer?”

One of the men, the one in charge if his slightly cleaner coat and trousers were anything to go by, stepped forward and stammered out a response “Y-- yes, we have him locked up for now, but there’s no telling what kind of curses he’s brewing,”

Even with all of Merlin’s considerable patience, he was barely able to keep from rolling his eyes. These simpletons wouldn’t know a curse if he conjured one up right in front of them.

Well time to go clear this up and let the village goat herd or whoever it was out of wherever they’d penned him up “I promise you have nothing to fear, a squadron of the king’s best knights are here with me and they will allow no harm to befall you. Now take me to this sorcerer of yours and I will deal with him myself,”

The crowd visibly relaxed at his words; or more precisely, upon learning of the knights’ presence, the village headman slowly nodding at him “Follow me then,”

Merlin allowed himself to be lead to the far side of the village, with the rest of the group trailing behind. No doubt curious about his powers as much as they feared and despised them. The headman stopped at the edge of the buildings, pointing into the trees beyond “He’s in there,”

A cave barred with a wooden door was built into a hill a short distance away from the village proper. A space no doubt ordinarily used for storage now converted to a makeshift prison cell.

The headman twisted his cap in his hands “So...how long will it take you to--”

“That will be enough,” Merlin waved him off “I’ll take care of everything from here on out,”

The headman swallowed hard but still stepped aside to let Merlin pass, striding towards the cave. None of the villagers followed him, of course not that he expected any of them to.

Reaching the cave door, he opened it a crack and poked his head in. It was too dark to see the contents of the cave, the light of the open door doing little to penetrate the gloom.

“Hello?” Merlin called into the dark cave “Anyone in here?”

No reply from within the cave was forthcoming. Merlin remained standing in the doorframe in silence for a few moments. 

His patience was rewarded when a soft sniffle broke through the silence.

Merlin blinked in surprise. Well that was...unexpected.

He opened the door all the way, banishing some, but not all of the shadows. Allowing for his eyes to adjust just enough to see a small figure huddled in the far corner of the cave.

A child, dark haired, a boy by the looks of it, sat curled up on the floor of the cave. And by the look of how dirty and disheveled he was, he had been in here for some time. Clear tracks ran down his cheeks from where tears had cut through the dust. The child wasn’t crying at the moment, though whether that was due to exhaustion or dehydration remained to be seen.

Merlin strode over, slowly as not to startle him, and got down on one knee a few feet in front of the boy “Hello there,”

The child said nothing but followed him with his eyes, clearly trying to gauge how much of a threat the Wizard was.

Merlin gave his best, non-threatening, smile “Let’s lighten things up a bit, shall we?” he held out his palm, and with the barest breath of effort a green witchlight flared to life there before floating up to the cave ceiling, filling the small space with emerald light. 

A parlor trick by his standards, but it served as a good example to those not versed in the subtleties of Wizardry.

The child lifted his head to stare at the witchlight as it ascended to the roof of the cave, mouth open and eyes large with wonder.

“Now tell me young one…”

Aware he was being addressed, the child tore his gaze away from the ceiling to stare back at the Wizard, wariness coming off of him in palatable waves.

“Can you do anything like that?”

Merlin expected the child to shake his head, or at the most mumble a soft no. So it came as no small shock when the child raised his own tiny palm and stared at it with furrowed intensity.

His astonishment was even greater when cerulean sparks flared to life in the boy’s hand.

They flickered for a few seconds before going out, the boy letting out a small puff of exhaustion as they did.

This was no charlatan or victim of coincidence, this boy had actual power. And for someone of his age to even attempt to mimic a spell after only seeing it performed in front of him once…

This boy had potential.

And Merlin would be damned if he let such potential waste away in a dank cave.

Merlin got down on both knees “What is your name young one?”

“Hi-- Hisirdoux,”

“Well then Hisirdoux, what do you say we go outside and discuss things further?”

“I...I can’t…”

“Of course you can, others may not like what you can do but if I say you can leave no one will stop you,”

“But…” Hisirdoux raised one of his arms ever so slightly, a soft clink of metal accompanying the action.

A sound no louder than a cricket’s chirp, deafening to Merlin’s ears.

“Boy, show me your hands,”

Hisirdoux complied, stretching both arms out in front of him, allowing Merlin to see crude iron shackles wrapped around his wrists, sloppily fastened to heavy chains bolted into the cave wall.

Merlin had been millenia old even before Camelot was founded. He’d watched empires rise and crumble. And he’d seen every manner of cruelty that humans could inflict on each other. By now there was no atrocity that was capable of shocking him.

This however, gave him pause.

“Hold still Hisirdoux, let me get those off you,”

Merlin moved closer, raising a hand over Hisirdoux’s wrists, gently probing into the shackles with his magic. 

Elemental iron was the antithesis to magic and could impede it in any form, from raw ore to rusty nails, but it’s true power of binding lay in its shaping. Molding the earth and bending it your will, ingenuity triumphing over the unknown. And a clever and experienced Wizard such as himself could see through the patterns of iron’s construction and unravel it.

It was not difficult, these shackles were especially crude. Hastily hammered together from materials never intended to bind. Probably why Hisirdoux was still able to manifest some power. So it only took a minute, then a flick of his fingers and the shackles fell to the ground.

However the damage had been done.

Hisirdoux whimpered, gently poking at one of the angry red burn marks with a wince. 

Merlin laid both hands over the boy’s wrists.

“Sana et integro,”

Bands of green light bloomed to life and wrapped around the burn marks, slowly fading as they sank into the skin, taking some of the bright redness with it. It wouldn’t heal Hisirdoux completely, but it should end his pain for now.

However he would carry the scars with him for the rest of his life.

Had his neighbors known how badly the iron would injure him, a young child fresh into his magic, or had they merely been concerned with sealing his power away at any cost?

The real question was if any of them bloody cared.

“Better?”

Hisirdoux nodded with a sniffle.

“Good,” Merlin reached over and gently cupped his chin, the boy flinching at the contact, tilting his head up to look him in the eye “Hisirdoux, what I can do and what you can do is called magic, the ability to channel the arcane energies of the universe to bend them to your will,”

Hisirdoux said nothing, merely stared up at him with wide, but not frightened, eyes.

“You are capable of so much more than you know, and if you become my apprentice, I can teach you how to wield your powers to their fullest potential,”

“B...but I don’t want to be an apprentice, I want to stay here with mother and father,”

Merlin held back a sigh of disappointment. Hisirdoux might not have realized it yet, but he had no home here, not anymore. No matter, that truth would make itself known soon enough, the only thing to do was get it over with as quickly as possible. no reason for Merlin to prolong the inevitable.

“Very well then,” Merlin stood and extended his hand “I will take you to them,”

Even though he was far from being moved by such things, sentimentality being something he’d abandoned centuries ago, seeing the flash of hope on Hisirdoux’s face and knowing how unfounded it was hardly felt pleasant.

Hisirdoux reached up, tiny fingers grasping his own, and pulled himself to his feet. Following along as Merlin stepped out of the cave, wincing as they stepped into the bright sunlight.

How many days has his parents sat back and allowed him to be locked away in the dark?

Merlin wasn’t overly fond of the sensation of the tiny, grubby fingers grasping his own, but it was the best way to keep Hisirdoux from running off. If their talk of burning earlier hadn’t convinced him, seeing Hisirdoux’s condition in the cave cinched it. 

The boy was not safe here.

And sure enough, as they approached the village, Hisirdoux brightened, and started to pull away “Mother! Father!”

Merlin kept his grip on Hisirdoux’s hand firm, not letting go as they stepped up to the gathered villagers, despite the boy’s attempts to pull away. Steeling his expression when he saw the mother and father Hisirdoux was looking at.

Hopefully Hisirdoux never had to learn that his mother wanted to burn him alive.

The tell-tale clatter of plate armor came up from beside him, and Merlin turned to see Galahad rapidly approaching. 

“How goes it finding the unregistered sorcerer, any luck?”

Merlin paused and greeted the knight with a nod, ignoring Hisirdoux’s attempts to break free and run to his parents “As a matter of fact I have, he right here,”

“Where? All I see is some waifish…..” Galahad trailed off, eyes going wide from behind his bushy brows.

Good to see Merlin wasn’t the only one appalled at how these villagers had treated their ‘sorcerer’. 

And speaking of a crowd was starting to form around them, drawn by Merlin’s appearance and Hisirdoux’s shouts. 

Merlin straightened to his full height and squared his shoulders.

Time to reset the wound as quickly as possible.

“False alarm everyone,” he gestured towards the squirming Hisirdoux with one hand while looking around at the gathered villagers “This boy does have magic, but he is of no threat to you, you can all go back to your ordinary lives,”

Hisirdoux strained as he continued to try and escape Merlin’s grip and run to his parents “Mother! Mother! I can come home now!”

The mother in question stepped up close and glowered down at him, expression hard enough that it caused Hisirdoux’s brightness to dim “That’s not my boy, not any longer, that child is tainted by darkness, he has no place in my house or in this village,”

No one else around them spoke up, either in agreement or objection, although based on the looks on their faces they hardly disagreed.

Hisirdoux froze, expression beginning to crumple “But moth--”

“Don’t you dare!” the woman shrieked, the sheer venom dripping from her voice enough to cause Hisirdoux, some of the villagers around her, and even Galahad to recoil “Don’t you dare address me as your mother! You’re a curse, a demon, you dare to call yourself our child, deceiving us and hiding your true nature so you can bring ruin to us all--”

“Beloved enough,” the man next to her put an arm around her waist and gently pulled her back “I know this is a trying time for you, but you must not lose yourself in such wrathful displays,”

He put both hands on her shoulders and looked her in the eye “Our child may be tainted by Fae magics, but all is not lost, soon the evil will be gone. And there will be more children between us,”

She sighed, slumping in his grip “You are right, soon our village will be godly once more, and we will have more children to replace the one we lost,”

Hisirdoux had gone completely still, staring up at his parents with an utterly horrified, heartbroken expression. 

His father turned back towards Merlin “My wife speaks true, that’s no son of mine, either you take care of him or we’ll do it ourselves,”

An unfortunate but not unexpected response “Very well then,” he gave a gentle tug on the fingers still clasped in his “Hisirdoux?”

The boy looked up at him, eyes brimming. 

“My offer still stands, do you wish to become my apprentice?”

He gave a terse nod, tiny faced pinched in the effort to hold back tears.

“Then let us go and--”

“Hang on,” Hisirdoux’s father cut in “You can’t just carry my son off,”

Merlin raised an eyebrow “I thought you said he was no son of yours?”

The man flushed but held his ground “I sired him, raised him, and fed him. Can’t just let anyone go carrying him off with nothing to show for it,”

The sheer audacity of this man stopped Merlin in his tracks “How are you to demand such a thing when you’ve made it quite clear you’re not interested in taking him back?”

A triumphant glint entered the man’s eyes “You seem fairly interested in him, wouldn’t want to leave him and have something happen now would you?”

Merlin’s expression darkened, disgust he’d thought himself long past feeling slowly trickling into his chest. He’d seen poor reactions to people discovering their child was touched by magic many times before, this was far from the first time Merlin had witnessed parents proclaim their child dead while they stood living before their eyes. But never in all his centuries had he witnessed any cling so greedily to the corpse “You presume much if you think you can command me to--”

“It’s not as though you can just carry him off,” the the man said, unnervingly calm “The king wouldn’t be happy to hear of his Master Wizard carrying off children from their parents. So you can either pay my price or I’ll find someone who will,” 

Around him the other villagers, his wife included, were murmuring in agreement. Mentions of prices or even other options should Merlin prove unwilling to pay floating up in hushed bits of conversation.

Hisirdoux glanced back and forth between the two men. As young as he was he couldn’t possibly understand the intricacies of the situation surrounding him. But he clearly understood something, some base instinct informing him of the peril he was in, that he stood at the crossroads of danger and safety. His tiny fingers gripping Merlin’s hand with all the feeble strength he could muster. 

The disgust filling him deepened into a rage the likes of which he hadn’t felt in decades. Merlin had to make an effort not to shatter Hisirdoux’s fingers in his grip. From off to the side he could see Galahad watching the entire exchange with his jaw hanging open.

These people, who owned little more than the clothes on their backs, had been blessed with a child with immense magical potential, who possessed the power to potentially build their hamlet up to a kingdom in its own right, and this was how they treated him? They didn’t even afford him the dignity that they would a rat or a wolf, to them Hisirdoux was merely property. Blighted property that they had no desire to keep, but every right to sell to the highest bidder.

These fools had done what in a single afternoon what beings far greater than them had spent years trying and failing to accomplish.

They had made Merlin angry.

He let out a sigh and hung his head “Very well, name your price,”

The man grinned victoriously “Eighty pounds and not a pence less,”

“Fine,” Merlin said coldly.

The man blinked, clearly expecting some haggling involved.

“Galahad,” 

The knight jerked towards him, startled out of his stupefied state.

“Write up a contract stating that these two,” he inclined his head towards the couple in front of him “Are to receive eighty pounds in exchange for signing over their son to be a ward of the crown,”

Galahad nodded slowly, pulling open his bag of parchment and official seals “I’ll get right on that,” he glanced down at Hisirdoux, tears now openly rolling down his small face “How about you two go ahead and wait in the carriage, I won’t be but a minute,”

Merlin nodded, turning and tugging Hisirdoux after him as he headed away from the village and back towards the awaiting carriage.

He waited until Galahad and the crowd of villagers were far out of earshot before starting the chant. Hisirdoux could no doubt hear him, but he would neither remember the words or understand their significance.

Merlin preferred not to use blood magic, both due to the impracticality and the immense risk, but today he would make an exception.

Hisirdoux’s parents, with a complete lack of understanding of magic and how it functions, had declared their child tainted and cut him out of their hearts and community. Deciding to either sell him to offset their so-called loss or kill him and be done with it.

Well if that was the way they treated their firstborn child, Merlin would ensure that there would be no more children after Hisirdoux, for either of them.

From now until their dying days Hisirdoux’s parents would never again bear children, neither with each other nor any other partner.

The words felt cold and slimy falling from his lips, the magic they invoked soft and subtle. Slowly creeping into the bodies of Hisirdoux’s mother and father, altering them just enough to accomplish his goal.

Of course the blood magic curse would only affect those two, the rest of the village, the ones who had been complicit at best and gleeful participants at worst, would not share its effects.

But they would see Hisirdoux’s parents, see what the curse did to them without ever knowing the cause for certain. And they would wonder, and they would be afraid. 

He completed his curse just as the carriage and the rest of the knights came into view, falling silent as he stepped up to them, from far behind he could feel the last traces of magic settle into place and the curse take hold.

Merlin helped Hisirdoux climb the steps into the carriage, from behind him he heard Galahad come up and call to the rest of the knights.

“Alright we’re burning daylight, let’s get a move on!”

A quick glance to the west revealed just how right Galahad was, the sun was now far lower in the sky and they needed to hurry if they wanted to make it to safety before the darkness came and brought trolls with it. Moving swiftly, he stepped into the carriage and shut the door behind him, lifting Hisirdoux up onto the seat and sitting himself beside him just as the carriage pulled to a start.

Hisirdoux remained silent the whole while, had been ever since he’d heard what his parents truly thought of him, eyes locked on the small window, watching the village that had been his home slowly fade into the distance. 

“Hisirdoux,” Merlin spoke softly “I know you must be dealing with quite a lot right now, but you need to understand that there is nothing inherently wrong with your abilities. They are a tool like a sword or a hammer that can be used for good or for ill. They are not evil or corrupt they simply are,” 

The boy refused to look directly at him, eyes bright and lip trembling.

“How your village reacted to your abilities isn’t a reflection of your faults, but of theirs,”

Hisirdoux didn’t react aside from a sniffle, small shoulders starting to shake.

Years from now Hisirdoux would look back on this day as nothing more than a faded scar, a memory of a wound long since healed. But the future was far away, and today the wound was still fresh and raw. Merlin had said and done all he could for now; some wounds could only be healed with time. 

Settling back in his seat, Merlin turned to glance out his own window, prepared to spend the rest of the trip in silence.

Without warning something abruptly pressed into his side.

Startled, Merlin glanced sharply down, only to see Hisirdoux clinging to his torso, openly sobbing against him.

The sight was so baffling that Merlin didn’t know how to react. 

What on earth did this boy think he was doing? Merlin was a Master Wizard, not some nursemaid Hisirdoux could cling to whenever he wished. Merlin’s duty as his master was to instruct him in the ways of magic and that was it, he’d hire a nanny for everything else. If Hisirdoux was going to be his apprentice the boy needed to bloody well learn the difference between the two straight away.

He raised a hand to push Hisirdoux away, but paused just before it could touch him. Keeping it poised in the air for a few seconds, Hisirdoux’s weak sobs echoing in the small carriage, before dropping it with a sigh. Lowing his hand to softly pat Hisirdoux’s back instead.

Perhaps some indulgence was in order, the boy had just been cast out of his home and family. Granted it didn’t look like either of those had been worth very much, but still they were all that he had ever known.

This couldn’t be a regular occurrence, as soon as they got to Camelot Merlin would arrange for a proper nanny to handle caring for Hisirdoux. As master and apprentice, Merlin was responsible for Hisirdoux’s education and nothing else. But just for today, he would make an exception.

As their journey went on, the carriage rocking along as it carried them down the rugged road, Hisirdoux’s sobs gradually softened into sniffles, Merlin rubbing his back all the while, eventually he quieted altogether, though still remaining curled up against Merlin’s side.

“Hisirdoux?” Merlin said quietly.

No response.

He glanced down, glimpsing shut eyes and a slack face, a soft snore escaping him.

For a moment Merlin just stared incredulously. 

The child had fallen asleep on him, of all the impertinent-- good lord what if he started drooling on him?

Merlin briefly considered trying to move him, before settling back in resignation. If he tried to move the boy chances are he would wake up, and after being locked away for days with hardly any food or water and his wrists wrapped in iron...Hisirdoux needed a good rest.

And while Merlin wasn’t smitten with the idea of being drooled on, at least while he was sleeping Hisirdoux would be quiet and out of the way.

Tilting forward as much as he could without disturbing the sleeping child, Merlin peeked out his window, and again out the opposite one. Seeing no knights riding near enough to see inside, he swiftly snapped his fingers. A blanket on the opposite seat becoming sheathed in green light, leaping over and tucking itself securely around Hisirdoux’s sleeping form, the light around it vanishing just as quickly as it appeared

Satisfied that the deed had gone unwitnessed, Merlin leaned back and gave Hisirdoux one more soft pat on the back as the carriage continued on down the road.

[rainbowvamp]

A Series of Confessions

5k. Albion Party “The Blessed Ones” The Princess Bride AU on AO3

Warnings for mentions of trauma. Last Gwen&Merlin Chapter before we focus on Lancelot and Morgana again.

---

A servant comes down while Gwen and Merlin are eating dinner and tells them that the King wishes to see them. Merlin tells Gwen to stay as he takes the audience with the king and comes back with a look on his face that makes Gwen worry her bottom lip.  

“What’s wrong?” She asked, and Merlin shook his head.

“I’m afraid we’ve been offered a position it will be hard to refuse.” He looks ups and bites the inside of his cheek, eyes hard and fist clenching at his side. Merlin doesn’t anger easily and Gwen is immediately worried, standing and taking his hand in hers, wordlessly begging him to confide in her.

“The messenger, that knight. Did he ever mention that the prize for healing Morgana was serving as court physician?” 

Gwen’s eyes widened and she tightened her grip on Merlin’s hand. “No. He never said any such thing.” 

“No. I didn’t think he had.” 

Gwen swallows hard. “Is it too late to run away?” She asked with a short, nervous laugh. Merlin unclenched his fist and turned his hand to take hers, smoothing his thumb gently over the back of it.

“If you want to, we can. I just don’t know how far we’ll get. The king was very insistent. I tried to refuse and he… well, it didn’t sound like he was going to take no for an answer.” 

“We have a whole life, a village that depends on us.” She said, but he shook his head.

“He promised the current physician would be sent to see to them. He’s also very pleased that you’re a midwife.” Merlin frowned, but he squeezed her hand when he felt it tense. “I’ve told him you’re very shy, but that I would pass along the compliment.” 

She laughed. “You’ve made me look helpless.” 

Merlin smiled wanly. “I was more worried about keeping you away from Uther than I was saving your face.”

She sighed, squeezed his hand back so he’d release it. “Thank you.” 

“Of course.” 

Merlin eats his supper while Gwen reads a book she’d brought with them. She was learning to mix herbs herself, and the book was proving more useful than Merlin, whose teachings were sporadic and often included lengthy tangents that were hard to follow. She’d already managed to impress him a few times with her recommendations.

“Elyan will hate this.” She says offhandedly when she’s finished the section on rosemary.

“I was thinking we shouldn’t tell him.” Merlin said with a slight shrug and Gwen made to protest, but found that she rather agreed with him. 

���He’s due to visit soon.”

“And we have to go back and get our things eventually.” 

She hated that his suggestion was actually very sensible. Damn it all. 

“I suppose we do.” 

—

The crown prince comes in and Gwen’s worst fears come true. She stays to the side while Arthur confronts Merlin, but it doesn’t go as badly as it could. In the end the prince says thank you, but Gwen still worries.

“Do you think he suspects?” She asked, but Merlin just shrugged.

“It doesn’t matter. He didn’t make accusations, and that’s good enough.” 

—

Gwen finds she doesn’t hate being the court physicians assistance as much as she thought she might. Uther is never sick, so she never has to see him. While Merlin is often called away to tend nobility, visiting or local, Gwen is often left to attend the servants and to see to people in the lower town. Sometimes she has to call for Merlin, but often she is able to help without him. It’s not much different from working in the village, only she has less time to study because she has significantly more patients, and she isn’t by Merlin’s side quite so much. She finds it rather lonely. 

One night when they’re having supper, Merlin addresses their separation.

“I didn’t realize how much I’d grown to depend on you.” Merlin said and Gwen titled her head in silent question. “I’ve let myself get sloppy. Took me nearly ten minutes to find what I needed in my bag this morning.” 

“You’re a mess.” Gwen confirmed. “You were actually always a mess, but whatever terrible system you had in place, I made better. Now you’re out of practice.” She smiled teasingly at him and he rolled his eyes.

“Can never resist the urge to take me down a peg, can you?” He laughed, goodnatured. 

“You’d get a big head otherwise. What would the court do if their physician floated away from an inflated ego?” She took a sip of her drink and he threw his napkin at her. It barely brushed her elbow, but they were both grinning, so no harm was done. 

“I want you to come with me on my rounds tomorrow. There’s no need for us to be separated.” 

“Hmm, no good. I’m seeing an expectant mother tomorrow for her mid pregnancy check. She’s been complaining about backpain and a few other aches.” 

Merlin laughed. “Let me go with you then. Show me what you’ve learned.” 

Gwen just shrugs and the next day they start to make rounds together, unless Merlin was attending a nobleman. 

—

They’d been staying in Camelot for a year when Gwen had to see her first noble patient. Merlin had tried to get her out of it, but when it came down to it, he’d needed the help. There were 8 injured knights come back from a failed scouting mission, attacked by a band of what they claimed had to be fifty men. With only two casualties to speak of, Gwen was surprised they hadn’t been hurt worse. 

Gwen tries to focus on making her hands move, and pulling the right potions and herbs and making poltices. She tries to not think about all the Camelot red and blood that reminds her too much of being 15 and helpless. She tries to keep her hands gentle even when they are shaking.

“I assume you’re not used to such gruesome scenes.” The knight she is tending tells her as she wraps a wound on his arm. It has already been stitched shut by Merlin, but he left the herbs and the poltuce making to her. 

“I can’t say I am.” She says quietly, trying to focus on her work and not on him. 

Was this one of the knights who stood by and watched her father be slain?

“I’m sorry you’re being tested this way. But if it’s any consolation, you’re doing as well as any battle field nurse I’ve ever known.” 

“Thank you.” She says, because she can’t rebuff a compliment from a nobleman, no matter how much her hands are shaking. 

“It’s Sir Leon.” He tells her, and she looks up at him again, for the first time since she’d started working on him.

“Oh, the messenger.” She says, recognizing his blue eyes and curling hair from that strange bow her first day in Camelot.

“I’m usually much more than that, but yes.” He smiled at her, and she went back to tending his wounds. 

—

In the nearly three years she spends in Camelot, Gwen is content. No new friends made, but no fewer friends than she’d had after leaving her own village. She finds it easy to disappear into shadows when she isn’t working, and that’s probably why when Prince Arthur storms into the physician’s quarters, he doesn’t pay her any mind.

“What did you give Morgana?” He asks through gritted teeth, already seething and angry. Gwen tries to find something to occupy herself, turning her back to the prince to try and hide her own anxiety at the question. 

Merlin has no need to hide though.

“What is this about? I haven’t seen the Lady Morgana in years.” Merlin doesn’t even look up from the book he’s studying to say this, as Gwen can so clearly see out of the corner of her eye. She’s never understood how Merlin can be so brazen to nobles. 

“When you first came here, you gave her something. It made her better, but it also made her forget her fiancé, didn’t it? Or, she forgot that she loved him, or that she was hurting, or something!” Gwen flinches when Arthur raises his voice, hiding her face behind her hair, loosened after too long spent tied up had left her with a throbbing headache. It was actually rather improper that her hair be loose in front of him, but she hadn’t exactly had time to fix it or even put a cap on. 

Merlin puts his book down. Gwen can hear the spine being placed on the table, and she dares not look at the exchange unfolding. “I gave a sick girl medicine and I helped her get better, My Lord. That’s my job.”

“How is it better to forget your love?!” 

Gwen finds herself asking the same question. 

Of course, Merlin has an answer. He always has an answer. 

“She was dying for him, Arthur. Doesn’t your friend deserve a chance to live her life, free of pain?” Something about the way that Merlin says it, the tension in his voice like he’s holding something dangerous back, makes Gwen look back at them. She can only see the back of Merlin’s head, but something about the set of his shoulders worries her. It’s too tight. Merlin is never tense. She finds herself moving closer to them to try and get a better look at Merlin’s face. 

“Life is full of pain. You can’t simply get rid of it. What sort of heartless bastard are you?” Arthur gnashes his teeth and Gwen sees the flash of gold in Merlin’s eyes that means he’s suppressing his magic. She moves forward, quickly, determinedly, when Merlin stands up like he means to confront the prince. 

Now is not the time to be brave. Because they are in the wrong and the prince seems to know it. 

Gwen makes up an appointment. She’s a terrible liar, but she acts like she’s sure, like they had just come back to the room for supplies so they could see to an earlier than expected birth, and the Prince seems to believe it, because he lets them go, Gwen barely having time to take a cap from the table while Merlin grabbed the wrong bag for delivering babies. 

Gwen quickly braids her hair and tucks it away. It’s a terrible job and she’ll have to detangle it more than unbraid it, but it can’t be helped. They go to the stables to retrieve their horses, and Gwen doesn’t dare speak until they’re outside the castle gate and on the quiet streets of town.

“Is that true?” Is what she finally asks when they’re away from anyone who might here them, drowned out by the sounds of the night. 

“What?” Merlin asks, but she can tell by the way he holds his shoulder’s tight that he knows exactly what she’s asking.

“Did you make her forget her fiancé? Is that why she’s so much better.” 

“Guinevere, I don’t want to talk about this.” 

“Don’t use my full name with me. I gave her that potion myself, trusting that you knew what you were doing. I have a right to know.” Gwen felt her own hackles rising, disturbed by Merlin’s reluctance to answer. She feared the worst. 

Merlin runs his tongue over his teeth, keeping his eyes straight ahead as they continue to ride. “It is safer for you if you don’t know.” 

“I don’t care. I deserve to know what I’ve done to that poor girl.” 

“What I’ve done. You did nothing but give her the potion. I choose it. You don’t have any culpability here.” 

���Yes, I do. I could’ve asked. Should’ve asked. I’d never seen you use it before, and I didn’t know what it did. I administer it to her myself, and I should’ve known what it did first. That’s on me.” Gwen stops her horse, forces Merlin to stop and look at her, not to focus on the road ahead. “Tell me, Merlin.” 

“She didn’t forget her fiancé.” He finally said with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. His eyes were closed in the dark, and his skin looked paler than normal. Maybe it was just the moonlight. Maybe not. “I couldn’t have done something like that without a spell. It’s- The potion is harmless. I’ve used it before with no ill effects.” 

“Then what does it do? Explain it to me, Merlin, because I’m starting to feel like an accomplice to a terrible deed and I need to understand.”

“It… it’s like a painkiller for the heart. When I give someone a draught for pain the pain doesn’t go away, it just becomes more distant, harder to feel. The potion I gave her made it impossible for her to feel hopeless and sad because of the loss of her fiancé and parents. She still loves them, still misses them, but the pain has been numbed.”

“And what gave you the right to do that to her?” She couldn’t believe this. Couldn’t believe what Merlin had done. 

“She was dying, Gwen!” Merlin is very rarely curt with her, but his outburst makes her sit back in her saddle, her horse trotting in place uneasily, held still only by Gwen’s firm hand on the reins. “She was dying, and I’m not sorry. I knew what the potion would do. I knew it would save her life, and the cost was just her pain. How is that wrong?”

“You didn’t ask her, didn’t even tell her. What must she think of herself, for just completely forgetting to mourn her family?” 

Merlin shook his head. “You don’t understand. You’ve never been in love, never felt the loss of it. It’s devastating, Gwen, and I did what I did to save her life.”

“Don’t I? What, because I’ve never loved someone and lost them? Why am I here, Merlin? Why do I travel with you? I watched my father die, murdered in cold blood. But of course, I can’t understand how devastating it is to lose someone you love.” Gwen clicked her tongue and turned her horse, heading back to the castle. She couldn’t even look at Merlin, she was so hurt. She swallowed back the pain of it, willing her eyes to stay dry. 

“I didn’t mean-“ behind her Gwen heard Merlin’s own horse turn around to follow her, and she urged her horse to speed up, just a little. She wasn’t going to run through the streets of Camelot in the middle of the night, but she was not above keeping a faster pace to stay ahead of Merlin. “Damn it all.” She hears Merlin mutter to himself, forcing his horse into a brief gallop to catch up with her. “Guinevere, that isn’t what I meant. Of course it’s not. It’s just- It’s very complicated.”

“Then uncomplicated it. Give me the beginners version, do something, Merlin, because insulting me is far from what I was expecting from you tonight.” Gwen didn’t look at him, keeping her gaze steady ahead of her. 

He sighed, “Fine. When we get back. I’ll explain.” 

“Good.” 

They stable the horses, and Gwen leaves a lie with the stable hand that it had been a false alarm. No baby, just false contractions. If Arthur happens to enquire about why they’re back so early, that should suit him. 

In their rooms, Merlin collapses onto the bench of their work/kitchen table immediately, head in his hands and palms rubbing at his eyes. Gwen puts away their supplies and waits for her answer. 

“You’re not going to like this.” He tells her, and her lips thin.

“I already don’t like it. I would like to understand.” 

Merlin laid his head down on the workbench, forehead against his folded arms, and said something that Gwen didn’t quite catch, speech muffled by the cage of his arms and the table.

“Come again?” She asked, taking her hair out of her cap and inspecting the damage.

Merlin lifts his head, resting his chin where his forehead had been, eyes closed like he was exhausted by the effort of speaking. “I said, I used it on myself.” 

This gives Gwen pause from trying to detangle her curls with her fingers. “The potion you gave Morgana?”

“Yes.” His eyes stay closed for a few seconds, and then when he finally looks up at her, his expression is almost blank. “I know it’s safe, and I know what it takes and doesn’t take, because I’ve used it on myself.” 

Gwen leaves her hair, tangled and forgotten to take a seat across from Merlin, her good friend of many years now. She feels like she should take his hand, or give some sort of reassurance, but his body is so tightly wound she’s afraid he’ll react badly to any attempt at comfort. “How long ago?”

“Long before we met. Before I met Elyan, even. I know it works, and it makes life manageable, bearable. The only way out of that sort of loss is through it, you know that. But you can’t make it through it if you’re dead.” 

Merlin’s bright blue eyes are wet, but not yet crying. They shine with the pleas of a man who just needs to be told that someone understands. And Gwen does understand, but that doesn’t mean she thinks it’s right.

“She didn’t know what the potion would do. I don’t think it was right to give it to her without at least telling her what the effects would be.”

“There’s not way to explain the effects without including magic. It’s a matter of our safety that I didn’t. Nothing else would’ve worked, Gwen. I did what I had to do.”

Gwen swallowed, but held her ground. “How can you know that? You didn’t try anything else.”

“Not on her.” He muttered, darkly, and Gwen can feel an answering darkness forming inside of her. 

Who had he lost? What had he tried? What had driven Merlin to such desperations? 

“Who?” She asked, and he laughed, but it was bitter, cold. Not toward her, she didn’t think, but it was hard to tell. He was so rarely like this, and his intentions were hard to read. 

“It doesn’t matter anymore. He’s been dead for a very long time. It’s been ages since I thought of him.” 

“That’s terrible.” Gwen whispered, thinking about her own father, her mother, who she still thought of nearly every day, who she remembered fondly, if painfully, even in her darkest moments. “It must be hard to forget.”

“I didn’t forget him.” He repeats himself, and Gwen wonders if he’s saying that for her benefit or his own. “I just disconnected myself from the pain of remembering him.”

Gwen hears “him” over and over, and wonders if she wasn’t so far off when she asked if Merlin preferred the company of men. But he didn’t offer the information, and she wouldn’t pry. 

“Is the potion why you said you couldn’t love?” 

Merlin closes his eyes, inhales slowly before looking at her again. “Yes. It’s not why I don’t love you, but it is why I can’t love.”

“So you’ve taken any ability Morgana might have had to love again as well.”

Merlin shook his head, another dark, sad huff of laughter passing through his lips. “She would never have loved again. Not like that.” 

“How can you know-“

“I’m tired.” Merlin stands up and brings the conversation to a sudden halt. “I’m going to bed. I don’t feel like answering any more questions.” 

Gwen is left at the table, mouth open and head swimming with questions. She is all at once angry at Merlin, and sorry for him, and aching, painfully aching, for him.

She wipes at her eyes, even though no tears have fallen, but finally gets up and gets ready for bed. She sleeps in the back room that they’re meant to share, but have found better for their sanity that they don’t. She hears Merlin putting his cot out, but the clanking and clattering is far louder than it usually is. 

 It’s a long night, filled with anxiety and fear. She wonders if she should tell the Lady Morgana, if it would betray Merlin’s confidence if she did. She dismisses the thought rather quickly, since Merlin was right and Magic would be the most likely culprit for what had been done to her. She was angry with Merlin, and thought what he did was wrong, but she didn’t want to see him strung up and made an example of. She didn’t want to see him burned or beheaded. 

So, late in the night, despite her fears, she decided that she would keep her mouth shut, and simply say nothing.

Time goes by and Gwen becomes more skilled. She and Merlin go back to separating their duties, Merlin staying on call in the castle while Gwen attended to the inhabitants of the lower town. 

They don’t see much of each other outside of the mornings and the evenings. Even the castle staff takes notice and a few of the maids ask her if things are alright with her husband. She smiles, nods, gives as little of an answer as she can manage, but never dares confide in any of them. [ 8/15/21, 4:39 PM Leon notices this, and hears whispers that the physician and his wife have had a falling out. He knows her name from the servants, Guinevere, and it is like a prayer to him. He loves her so dearly. The other knights rib him for being so obviously infatuated with a married woman, but Leon is stuck. She’s beautiful, and kind and he hears nothing but good things from the people in the lower town who she sees to. She’s a competent healer and Leon is smitten. He’s sorry that she’s fallen out with her husband, but he wonders if maybe it means there’s a chance. 

Of course there isn’t as soon as he gets up the courage to ask her a simple question he notices that she and Merlin are on the ups again, and he loses his nerve. ]

With time the gossip dies, moving on to the next interesting thing, and Gwen’s life calms down. She and Merlin return to some semblance of normal, but she and Merlin maintain their separate rounds. 

This peace doesn’t last long before she comes home from a round in the lower town and finds Merlin packing. 

“Where are you going?” She asked, setting her bag down and examining the chaos of their rooms. 

“I’ve been fired.” Merlin said while shoving clothes into a travel bag that had been put away since they’re first moved their things to Camelot.

“What? Why?” Gwen goes to Merlin, trying to catch his eyes, and she gasps when she sees the bruise forming on his cheek. “Oh, Merlin,” She reaches out to touch his cheek just beside the bruise, but he pulls his head away, snapping at her, “Don’t.” 

“Let me put some salve on it, at least. Who did this to you?” She went back to her bag to get the salve, despite his protests.

“His royal pratness, the crown prince, takes issue with my medicine. He came here and demanded that I reverse Morgana’s mind sickness, make her ill again.” He scoffed. “He doesn’t understand. None of you do. I can’t- I can’t even describe the difference in my demeanor before and after I took that potion, Gwen. The only thing I could think about before was how much I missed him and how much I wanted to join him in the afterlife.” Merlin swallows hard, like it might hurt him to remember, but he blinks and the pain is gone again. “I did what was best for her, and I don’t regret it, no matter how many people frown at my methods.” 

Gwen has fought this battle with him too many times. She just sighed and went to her room to start packing her things. 

It takes him a few minutes to realize that’s what she’s doing, apparently, because when he calls to her, he sounds surprised. “What are you doing?”

This, to Gwen, seems like a silly question. “I’m packing. You said we were fired.”

“I said I was fired. He never even mentioned you. You could stay if you wanted.” 

Gwen popped her head around the door to look at him with raised eyebrows and an apprehensive smile. “And what part of working for the man who murdered my father do you think is most appealing to me, exactly? The fact that he doesn’t know my name, or the fact that he still carries my father’s stolen sword around like a trophy?” She keeps her tone light, but she really can’t believe he even suggested that she might want to stay. “Don’t pack your medicine, I’ll do it. You always do a bad job.”

“I do not!” He protested, but she could hear the smile in his voice even after she moved away from the door. 

Back home it was. 

—

The ride is actually very peaceful. Some things will be sent after them[ Leon offers to be on the one to go with their things, only to find Gwen is out on rounds when he arrives. ], but they’re gone by the next morning. A weight Gwen hadn’t realized had been pressing down on her suddenly felt relieved, and she sat a little taller on her horse when they exited the castle gates for the last time. 

“We’ll never come back here.” He promised her, and she grinned.

“Good. I hate the king.” 

“With good reason.” Merlin’s bruise had only gotten worse, and she was fairly certain he hadn’t put any salve on it. Silly man. She shook her head and they rode in silence. 

After years of living in the castle, Gwen had forgotten what life on the road was like. It was more uncomfortable than she remembered, but she’d grown very used to sleeping in the same bed in a fairly warm castle every night, and was no longer used to the hard ground or the chilly nights. 

Merlin puts their bed rolls together and lets her share his blanket and  body heat the day before they reach their village. A few years ago, this might have made her blush, but Merlin was her friend, and he had seen her in so many varieties of undress that it didn’t really bother her to lay beside him in her shift. 

Like that first night beside him, so many nights ago, she finds herself turning to the stars for comfort. It’s autumn, and the constellations have changed. She finds once again that she doesn’t recognize any of them, but an occasional cloud moves over the moon to cover the sky and she finds more joy in watching them pass than she would have in trying to count the stars. 

“He used to love the stars.” Merlin said quietly, when Gwen was nearly asleep. She makes a soft noise of acknowledgement, turning her face in his direction without really opening her eyes. “All the constellations I know, I learned from him.”

“The one who you took the potion for?” Her words run together, but she’s slowly coming back to. He strokes her hair away from her forehead  with gentle fingers and she finds it harder to want to rouse herself.

“Yes.”

“What was his name?” She asked, not to be nosy, but because she thought everyone deserved to talk about the people they loved. Merlin had certainly listened to enough of her stories about Elyan and her mother and father. It only seemed fitting she returned the favor. 

“Gwaine.” Merlin said, and Gwen smiled at the sound. It was Merlin’s own tone that made her do it, the happiness of it infectious. “He was a drunkard, and a tavern brawler. Couldn’t stay out of trouble to save his own life, not that it ever needed saving. He was one of the most skilled swordsman I’d ever seen. Wonderful hair.” He laughed and Gwen found herself laughing with him. 

“He sounds wonderful.” She can’t tell if she’s being sincere or not, but it doesn’t seem to matter to Merlin.

“He was.” He strokes her shoulder with his thumb absently, and when she finally manages to pry her eyes open, he’s not looking at her, eyes focused on the sky. “He was everything to me. When he left, he promised me he’d be back in six months, richer than anything, and we’d settle down somewhere.” His eyes become glazed, almost blank when he spoke again. “But he never came back. When I heard he’d been killed, I couldn’t move for days. A local village woman came to ask for help for her son, and she found me lying in my own filth, wasting away. She made me get up, wash, and see to her child. For a while, that was enough. Knowing I was needed and I had to go on kept me going.

“But every day that passed and left me without him became more and more unbearable. I’d read about the remedy in a book years before, and it was only when I started contemplating taking my own life that I finally managed to make myself find the brew and make it. It was the first time in months that I hadn’t felt the crushing weight on me. The side effects mean that I can’t love that way again, but I never would’ve. He was it for me. He was all I’d ever wanted. Without him, I was as good as dead.”

“So you forgot.”

“So I forgot.” 

Gwen scoots forward and wraps her arms around him as well as she can, laying her head on his chest and giving him the best hug she can muster. “I’m sorry.” She whispered against his chest. “No one should have to go through that.”

“No,” He nodded, kissing the top of her head. “They shouldn’t.” 

She keeps her arms wrapped around him until she’s sure the worst of it has passed, and then settles back on her own bedroll. 

“Do you still hate me for what I did?” The question is trying to be light hearted, but Merlin won’t look at her. 

“No. I never hated you.” She leaned her head against his and he closed his eyes, just breathing softly together for a few quiet moment. “I could never hate you.”

“You’re a better friend than I’ve ever deserved, Guinevere.” 

“Nonsense.” She smiled and stroked her thumb over his cheek, pulling back so she could look him in they eyes. “There’s no such thing as deserves. Life threw us together and we made the best of it. I’d say we did fairly well for ourselves.”

His answering smile is soft, not disingenuous, but not entirely real either. “I’d say I came out with the better bargain. You keep me sane.” 

“I try my best. You don’t make it easy.” She laughed and was pleased when he managed a real laugh of his own along side it. 

“I haven’t told anyone about him in over ten years.” He said with a shake of his head. “I don’t think I could’ve chosen a better person to share with.” 

“I’m honored.” She touched his chest and his eyes met hers, steel blue in the moonlight and on the very brink of tears. “Get some sleep. We have a long ride in the morning.” 

He nods, and they don’t separate as far as they normally would. The gap between them is not entirely proper, but their friendship ran deeper than propriety. “Good night, Gwen.” 

“Good night, Merlin.” 

In the morning, she finds herself curled up against Merlin’s chest, with one of Merlin’s arms tucked around her. It’s the first time she’s ever woken up in a man’s arms, and she thinks it should feel different, strange, but it doesn’t really. It just feels like being near to Merlin. She wakes him and reminds him that they need to set off. He grumbles about wanting to sleep some more, but it’s half hearted. Neither of them speak about how they woke up. It doesn’t feel particularly necessary. They pack their things and set off, only a half day’s ride from home, now.