#thanks to BBC's Life In The Undergrowth

[dracolizardlars]

One of the highlights of being in r/snails is that snail mating behaviour is kind of weird and hard to figure out if you're not in the know, so every now and again someone posts a picture like "What are they doing?!" with their two pet snails groping each other's faces and every longer term member of the sub gets to be like, "Well, when two snails love each other very much..."

[black-kitten-imagines]

Rescue in a Heartbeat ~ Will Scarlett x reader

Picture not mine

Word count: 1,829

Warnings: some violence

Summary: Robin and his gang go to save one of their friends and meet the reader. Will then saves her and takes her to their camp.

A/N: The last few days our internet connection didn’t work, so I started watching the BBC Robin Hood DVDs we have at home. I immediately fell in love with Will.

Cold. So horribly cold. The floor and walls were made of dirty, grey stones sucking all of the heat from my body sitting on the straw covered ground. Through the little slit of a window at the top of the room hardly any sunlight and therefore no heat entered this godforsaken hellhole. It was damp and smelt putrid. The prison of Nottingham Castle. The last place I had ever hoped to end up, especially at the mercy of the cruel sheriff and his goons.

Since the new sheriff had replaced Lord Edward working at the castle had changed from a wonderful, stable job to secure my family’s living to a maze full of death traps, every step, every decision could be a reason to be killed. And I prayed every day for King Richard’s return so he could free us from this evil. 

But now I needed to pray for my life and soul for as much as I knew I would never see the light of the next day. If I had overheard the jailer correctly I was to be hanged for treason. Supposedly I had tried to poison the sheriff.

I wasn’t the only one down here fearing for my life. A few cells away from me sat a man playing with a wooden tag around his neck. He was skinny, had blonde hair and a beard. His eyes were a bright blue and he was clad in somewhat worn out, dirty clothes in different earthy colours. The man had been brought in this morning and Gisborne had said something about a fateful end. So far he didn’t seem worried or scared for his life. It rather seemed like he was bored, waiting for something.

Just at that moment loud crashing and banging was to be heard from outside the prison door. This was my time, I was sure of it. This was the end. Scared for my life my eyes started to tear up, but when the heavy wooden door flew open unlike I expected guards didn’t wash in. Instead a handful of men similarily dressed to the man in the cell cane rushing in.

One of them was carrying a bow while most of the others held swords in their hands or at their sides. Quickly one of them closed the door behind them as the others made their way down the steps. Hearing the noise of them entering the man in the cell a little away from me stood up a slight grin on his face.

“Robin! Over here!”, he called out to get their attention. I knew who this was. It had to be Robin Hood and his companions, the outlaws that everyone was supposed to fear. “Allan!” The group of people rushed over to his cell. A few of them were nervously stepping from one foot to the other once in a while glancing towards the door.

One of Robin’s men, a rather young brunette, knelt down in front of the door to the cell and pulled an axe from his back starting to work on the hinges. I quietly sat there watching them. I knew they hadn’t come for me and they were already putting their lives on the line to save their comrade so I didn’t call out to the to help me out. I had accepted my fate.

Just as the door to the cell fell aside and their friend was freed heavy footsteps were audibly coming closer. Someone must’ve noticed them breaking in. “Quick, we have to get going!”, Robin exclaimed and the outlaws immediately sprung to their feet and rushed to the door. The first few of them had already left the room when the one man who had broken the hinges who was also trailing behind noticed me and stopped dead in his tracks. The footsteps were becoming louder and louder. Robin noticed that one of his friends was missing. Turning around he saw the young one staring at me.

“Will, we have to go! Come on!” Will ignored the words of his leader and called out: “We can’t just leave her here! Who knows what the sheriff and Gisborne will do to her.” He ran over to me and started hammering on to the hinges that kept my cell door up. “We have to go! Otherwise they’ll catch us!”, the famous archer pressed.

“Yes, he’s right”, I whispered, my voice rough from not having spoken for too long, causing the man in front of me to look up. He had the most beautiful, mesmerizing green eyes full of warmth. “Leave! Save yourselves! I’m not worth it.” But he refused, continuing his work.

In the meantime the shouting of the guards was right in front of the door and I could hear the clashing of metal on metal as the outlaws fought for their life. Finally my cell door fell to the floor and Will quickly pulled me up and along through the prison door causing me to stumble over my own feet. Luckily he had held onto me tight and prevented me from falling. The others kept fighting to clear us some headstart but soon they were sprinting next to us out of the castle and into Sherwood Forest.

Running through the forest and undergrowth wasn’t easy for me especially after sitting for so long. I kept stumbling over my own feet, over branches and over stones. So after a while the tallest of the group who was carrying a staff came over to me and motioned to me to hop on his back so he could take me piggy-back. This way I wouldn’t slow the group down and we could lose the guards that were riding after us. When I jumped on the man’s back I saw Will in my peripheral field of vision watching me. His eyes grew sad and his jaw clenched.

After a few more minutes of running the horses weren’t audible anymore. “We’re almost there”, Robin informed me and he was right. Not more than one or two minutes later I was set onto the ground and walked into the outlaw camp. Seeing the interior I was amazed what could be built out her in the woods. I turned in a circle in awe admiring the work of a true master.

The smallest of the gang came up to me and took my by the hand. “Come with me”, she said smiling warmly at me. I followed her into a separate room with multiple makeshift beds. “How are you doing? Are you hurt?” I shook my head. “No, I’m a little cold and tired but I’m not hurt.” “Good”, she said, “here, you can take this bed. I’ll quickly get you something to drink that will warm you up and make you sleep peaceful.”

Then she disappeared out of the room. I sat down on the bed she had pointed out to me and pulled one of the blankets over my tired body. The woman in disguise came back in with a cup that she handed to me. I quickly drank the liquid, which didn’t taste of much, and soon I drifted of into sleep, finally being able to rest from the excitement of the past few days.

“Wake up. Wake up.” I heard someone softly call out to me and gently shake me awake. Slowly but surely my eyelids fluttered open to reveal the roof of the camp and the attractive face of the man named Will. When he saw my eyes opening he grinned and let go of my shoulders. I slowly pushed myself up into a sitting position and then stretched.

“How are you feeling?” “Good”, I replied before yawning. He chuckled. “I’m Will by the way”, he introduced himself before he stood up from his crouching position. “(Y/n).” “What a beautiful name.” His words made me blush. Will held out his hand to me. “Come, dinner’s finished.” I took his outstretched hand and he pulled me up.

When he walked out to a fire place I followed him. The other outlaws were already sitting around the fire, each of them a bowl of stew and a piece of bread in their hands. “Guys, this is (Y/n)”, Will introduced me to everyone. I smiled at them shyly. “(Y/n), this is Little John, Djaq, Robin, Allan and our amazing cook Much.” At that last part the others had to chuckle. Much gave me some food and I sat down next to Will on a log.

Before I started eating I cleared my throat catching everyone’s attention. “I wanted to thank all of you for risking you lives to rescue me from that hellhole.” There were multiple murmurs of ‘No problem’ and ‘Of course we would’. “Why were you down there in the first place?”, Much asked. “Much!”, the others scalded him for asking such a question. “It’s fine. It’s a justified question. Uhm... well, I was accused to have tried to poison the sheriff when I brought him his food. Which is a false claim”, I explained. They gave me understanding looks.

After having eaten the seven of us stayed sitting around the fire immersed in a conversation about the reigning injustice. It was starting to get dark. As I only wore my thin dress I started shivering. Will must’ve noticed as he pulled me closer to him draping his dark wool cloak over the both of us. His arm rested around my shoulders lending me additional warmth. That gesture of his made me smile softly. I think I began to truly like him.

One after the other the others left and headed to bed. Now Will and I were the only ones sitting around the fire. After a moment of silence I turned so I could properly look at the young man sitting next to me. My movement tore him out of his thoughts as well. He looked down at me smiling. I was somewhat scared of what I was about to do, but it was now or never.

“I wanted to thank you separately for saving my life.” This caused him to tilt his head in both curiosity and confusion. I gathered all my courage, hoping he felt the same way. Then I leaned up and kissed him.

When I pulled back I saw Will’s flustered, blushing face. He was starting to grin goofily. Will carefully took my hands into his rough ones. “I... I think I love you”, he told me looking away shyly. I rested one of my hands on his somewhat scruffy cheek and made him look back at me. “I think I love you too”, I confessed, which made him sigh in relief like he was scared that I would push him away. “Will... will you stay here with me?” “Yes”, I replied beaming widely, “I wouldn’t have anywhere else to go anyway.” The two of us stayed there, sitting on a log cuddling until the fire burned out to glowing embers.

[dictionarywrites]

I don't know if you want a more specific request for BBC Merlin fics, but I'm always down for a good magic revealed fic if you have any ideas on that? Preferably not one where Arthur's just like, "Oh, that's cool Merlin! I love sorcerers!" Please and thank you? :)

My Ao3 | Send requests | Tip jar! | This is a WIP because I have no self control. Subscribe to For Want Of A King on Ao3. 

In the aftermath of Nimueh, it happens.

Merlin is joyous as he andGaius return to Camelot, both of them on horseback, and although it weighs onhim, somewhat, to have killed Nimueh and done it so easily… It isn’t that hefeels guilty, because he doesn’t, and he doesn’t think he ever could feelguilty for it, just like he couldn’t feel guilty for killing a monster about tokill somebody, or killing a bandit or a thief that’d kill Arthur. 

It’s just that—

It was so easy. 

He’d felt so determined whenhe’d risen up from the ground, his own charred skin and the burn of his tunicfilling his nostrils, the wound she’d left when she’d thrown his power back athim eating at his sternum, and it had come to him in the flash ofunderstanding, of inspiration, that magic so often does.

You are a creature of magic, some unseen voice remindshim, in a voice that isn’t a voice: it whispers across his mind and it tastesof truth, and he wonders what it means, to be a creature of magic, like theDragon… The Dragon, who was willing to let his mother die, and not care, andthe Dragon, who he’ll never let go, never. If he’s a creature of magic, does that make himlike the Dragon? Monstrous? 

The lightning hadn’t justcharred Nimueh’s skin or burned her: it had calcified her into something almostlike stone, and when she’d burst outward in a cloud of ash and chips of grit,he’d felt nothing but satisfaction.

“Gaius,” Merlin says quietly,as the outer walls of Camelot come into view on the crest of thehorizon. “Do you think it’s—” He trails off, and he thinks for a secondabout what Gwen had said about killing Uther. It would be murder, she’d said, even hating him, even after he’dkilled her father, and Nimueh had killed a lot of people, but hasn’t Uther,too? “Do you think it’s murder, what I just did?”

“Why?” Gaius asks. “Do you feel guilty?”

“No,” Merlin says. “Butif it is murder, and I don’t feel guilty, I think that’s probably worse. Don’tyou?” Gaius thinks for a few moments, his jaw set and his expression thoughtfulas he looks out at the path before them. When he speaks, it’s delicately andwith a very careful tone. 

“I don’t think it’s murder,no,” he murmurs, and he exhales before he continues, “You know, Merlin,sometimes we must see those die, who would do us harm, who would do othersharm.”

“But not Uther,” Merlin says,with the slightest bitterness he can’t quite hold back.

“Arthur,” Gaius begins in alow-suffering tone, and Merlin nods his head.

“Yeah, I know, I— I heard you,before. He’s not ready to be king.” Merlin shifts his grip slightly on thereins, and he feels a strange feeling thick in his chest. He’s excited to getback home, to see his mother healed and safe in her bed, and he’s excited to beback in Camelot, but not to go back into the castle. Not that he doesn’t wantto work - he’s willing to work. Not that he doesn’t want to be back within thesafety of the castle walls, but… Their destinies are entwinedtogether. “I wish I could tell him what just happened. That I saved him,that… Sometimes, I feel like he looks right through me.”

“You’re his friend,” Gaius says softly. “Hecares for you, and he appreciates your loyalty.”

“He appreciates a servant thatwon’t leave no matter how badly he treats him,” Merlin mutters. 

“Too good for being a servantnow, are you?” Gaius asks, and Merlin sighs, running a hand through his hairand leaning back on the horse, shifting his position slightly. “No, I knowthat that’s not it. But, Merlin, to tell him what you are… You would doomyourself. I would not see you executed for the sake of your pride.”

“No,” Merlinmutters. “Nor would I.” When they arrive at the gates of Camelot, it isMerlin that takes the horses to the stable, telling Gaius to walk up to thecastle to check on his mother first, and when Merlin comes home, he all butdives into her arms. Every pustule has come away from her skin, and she’s tiredand pale, but well. 

Merlin falls asleep with hishead in her lap and her hands in his hair, and when he wakes up, he entertainsher with a swirl of glistening magic that hovers on the air. 

☩ ♕ ☩ ♕☩

It leaves him distracted, holed up with his motherand with Gaius: sitting on the edge of the bed, his legs crossed, he shows offhis magic for her like he used to do, when he was only young. Coaxing up embersfrom the fire, he sets them to dance on the air, and he conjures a dragon thatflies on the air and then dives down to devour a sheep made of the same light;he makes a princess and a suitor that dance on the air; he makes a boat that sailson rolling waves, and then bursts into stars.

Gaius smiles at him, praiseshim on the delicacy of his form, and there’s so much sadness in his eyes -Merlin almost imagines him saying it, although Gaius doesn’t dare actually voice it. “I wish you could do that forArthur,” the look in his eyes says. “I wish everyone could see you do that.”

And even though Gaius doesn’tsay it, he’s bold and thoughtless and stupid in the next few days, out riding withArthur, when he’s hunting in the forest. Merlin’s never understood hunting, andin the aftermath of what happened with the unicorn, he understands it evenless, killing some defenceless creature just because you can. He doesn’tunderstand how a man can be so cruel, or want to lean into pointless killing. 

Merlin doesn’t think about it,and it’s stupid, he’s stupid, but he has to act fast. It’s a break in the rockthat does it: as the knights are all camped around the fire, and Arthur iswalking with Merlin as he looks for rosemary in the undergrowth. 

It’s just one man. 

He catches Arthur by surprise,knocks him over the head - he doesn’t see Merlin because Merlin is crouched onhis knees, and Merlin doesn’t think, doesn’t wait to see if Arthur is reallyunconscious. 

“Move,” he whispers in the old tongue, and he wieldsArthur’s sword with as much ease as anything, brings the hilt of it down hard on theguy’s head, to knock him out… He topples like a sack of bricks, and Merlincalls, “Knights! Knights! Here!”

And sees too late that Arthuris wide awake, his elbows back in the dirt, his eyes focused on Merlin.

Merlin’s blood runs cold, butthe knights come, and Arthur doesn’t say a word. Merlin looks at the bruise onthe back of his head, and Arthur doesn’t say anything to him or the knights -he doesn’t talk at all. Arthur doesn’t say a word to anybody until they comeback toward the castle.

Merlin studies his face, feelsthe real and genuine fear in his chest as they ascend the stairs and come intoArthur’s quarters, and he puts Arthur’s riding clothes away, sets his bag onthe shelf. It’s started to rain outside - started just as they came into thecastle - and Merlin looks at Arthur’s reflection in the pane of thewater-streaked window, at Arthur’s stiff-lipped expression.

He expects him to break thesilence as soon as the door is closed behind them, but he doesn’t. The silencegoes on and on, swelling like the ocean before a wave, until Merlinsays, “Do you want me to fetch your dinner, sire?”

It’s the first words he speaksto Arthur, the first he dares to say: with the silence broken, Arthur looks atMerlin, his blue eyes dark and shining with some deep, new incomprehension.

“How many times have you savedmy life?” he asks, soberly.

“Once or twice,” Merlin says,very slowly. 

“Not the times I know about,”Arthur says immediately, his voice sharp and abruptly biting. “Not— Notthose times. How many times, Merlin, have you saved my life? The real number,the true number.”

“I don’t know what you mean, sire,” Merlin says, feelinghis voice falter, and Arthur slams his palm down so hard against the table topthat the whole thing rattles, two of the candle holders shaking in their place,and a metal mug falling to the ground. 

The clatter echoes in thequiet of the room. 

“Don’t lie to me,” Arthursays, his voice thick, and he looks like he might burst into tears, his cheeksred, his eyes shining even more. “Don’t you dare. Tell me. Becausethat— That wasn’t the first time, I know that that wasn’t… That can’t havebeen the first time. How many times have you done that, when I haven’t seen itcoming?”

Merlin looks down at his boots. 

How many times has he waitedfor this moment, and prayed it would come? How many times has he wished,desperately, that it would come out all of a sudden, and Arthur would get it,and Arthur would forgive him, and everything would be fine, how many times…?

This isn’t like it’s been inhis daydreams.

Arthur is staring at him, withso much horror on his face, so much desperation, and Merlin cannot standit. 

“That’s why I came toCamelot,” Merlin says softly, his voice barely more of a whisper: his voice isthick too, and he feels like he might start crying. He’s just so tired, and sodesperate, and so terrified he can feel his heart beating in the back of histhroat. “You asked me, in Ealdor, why I came to Camelot, and that is why,Arthur, because I have magic.”

“Why Camelot?” Arthur asks,his voice harsh and barely under control. “Why come here, and not gosomewhere else?”

“My mother thought a citywould be better for me, than the village. She thought maybe I could findsomeone else like me, and I…” He thinks of Gaius, and his mouth isdry. “I haven’t found anyone. It’s… But it’s part of me, you know. Idon’t hurt anyone, Arthur, I’ve never hurt anyone except to protect you, toprotect anyone—”

Arthur is breathing heavily, looking not atMerlin, but instead into the middle distance, and Merlin takes a step forward,saying, “Arthur, I know that your father says that magic is…”

“When I was sick,” Arthurwhispers. “Just— Just days ago, I was in a coma, and all of you thoughtthat I would die, that it was inevitable… Did you do something? Did you— Wasit magic, that helped me?”

“Magic has helped you so many times,” Merlin says,looking at him with his hands clenched at his sides. “So many times,Arthur, I’ve helped you, and…” He’s rehearsed it in his head, how he’d say itif Arthur ever found out. 

Our destinies are entwined,one speech begins, before it trails off into oblivion. I was told of a prophecy, andit mentioned me and you, starts another, and then the words run out. I would give my life for you,Arthur, readily and willingly, and according to this big old dragon under thecastle, begins another, and that one is… probably the worst. “AndI’d never hurt you. I’d never hurt anyone. Remember Anahora, and the unicorns,the qu— the tasks, that you had to complete? I would have died for you, youknow that I would have. And I know that you are kind, and noble, and that youshow mercy, and what you have to understand is that magic—”

“You’re right,” Arthur says. There’s heavy emotionin his voice, but also a stiffness, an iron-hard composure, that hadn’t beenthere before. “I am merciful.”

Merlin feels himself sag inrelief. 

“I’ll explain from thebeginning,” Merlin says, but Arthur holds up his hand.

“From this moment forward, youare relieved of your duties as my servant,” Arthur says. “Your last wageswill be given to you as normal at the end of the week, and I will inform thesteward that you wish to focus on your duties as Gaius’ apprentice.”

Merlin stands very still, hislips parted, and he stares at Arthur, his eyes wide. His blood isn’t cold, now- it feels like it’s not even moving in his veins, and he can barely feel hisheart beating, can barely stand to breathe.

“And if I ever hear,” Arthursays, “from anybody, that you’ve used magic in public, or to hurtsomeone… I will have you executed, like so many sorcerers before you.” 

“Arthur,” Merlin says, andArthur bows his head to keep from meeting Merlin’s gaze. 

“Get out,” Arthur says, andMerlin heaves in a breath, and he runs. He doesn’t remember, later on, actually passingby the different corridors in the castle or leaving out toward Gaius’ cottage -all he remembers is the pound of his feet on stone and then on the wet groundoutside, the soak of the rain in his hair and his clothes, the way Gaius putshis arms awkwardly around Merlin’s body when Merlin lets himself sob, and wishes thathis mother had stayed one more day instead of going back to Ealdor yesterday,because he wants her here, wants her—

“What happened?” Gaius says, but Merlin isinsensible, can only sob and feel like a child for crying, like he’s just alittle boy, and it’s so stupid, so stupid, and it’s his fault for not being morecareful and not thinking—

“He saw me,” Merlin chokes out. “He saw me…And he let me go.”

“Oh, Merlin,” Gaius whispers,and Merlin cries until he can’t cry anymore.

☩ ♕ ☩ ♕☩

“Teach me more anatomy,” Merlin says the next morning,when he has risen from dark dreams and ill-gotten sleep, and Gaius glances upfrom the book he is reading, staring at him. Merlin stands in the doorway, andhe knows from the look of his reflection in his wash basin that his eyes arered-rimmed and with heavy, grey-purple bags underneath him; his lips arechapped; he’s pale. 

“You should rest,” Gaius saysquietly.

“I’ve rested enough,” Merlinsays, and he sits down heavily at the bench across from Gaius, rubbing hard athis eyes. “Teach me.” He can see the reluctance and the uncertainty in theold man’s face, see his hesitation, but then he slowly sets the book aside,nods his head, and he goes for his books on anatomy.

The lesson is long, and hard, and boring, andMerlin is grateful for every second of it.

It distracts him from thinking, from panickingabout whether Arthur will change his mind and turn him in, from wondering ifArthur will ever speak to him again, even worrying about how he will fill hisdestiny, if Arthur will never speak to him again.

When Gaius finishes the lesson, he reads throughthe chapters they’d gone over again and again, drilling them into his head, andwhen Gaius makes his rounds of the city, he goes with him, passing him theright things from his box of supplies, comforting family members as Gaiustreats his patients.

“You’re not angry?” Gaius asks as they come backinto the house, when the sun is beginning to sink down below the horizon, andMerlin begins to eat stew on the fire. “To have lost your work in the castle?”Merlin shrugs his shoulders, looking down at the pan instead of turning back tolook at Gaius.

“No,” Merlin says. “It wasn’t that much moneyanyway, and I barely ever bought anything with it, except books, now and then.”

“That isn’t what I meant,” Gaius says.

“I know,” Merlin replies. He hears Gaius sighsoftly, but he doesn’t argue with him, doesn’t ask any more questions, andMerlin spends the evening, after they’ve eaten, practising spells in the quietof his bedroom. He has always practised nightly – this is no different.

(Except thatit is different, isn’t it?

Becauseusually, he wouldn’t have quite so much time to practise – he would bepolishing Arthur’s shoes, and setting up his clothes for the next morning, anddousing the candle as he left Arthur to sleep in his bed. And Arthur wouldsleep so soundly on his comfortable mattress, on his soft pillow, the handsomeplanes of his face neatly shadowed by the moonlight from the window, andsometimes, Merlin would hover for a second as he finished up his work in Arthur’squarters, and watch him sleep, before he came home to study.)

☩♕ ☩ ♕ ☩

Merlin.

The voice wakes him in the dead of night, andMerlin sits up straight, hearing the voice echo through his rib cage and on theinside of his skull, ringing through him like the peal of a bell he’s standingtoo close to. He knows that voice, knows its rich and sonorous tone, and theway it echoes whether he hears it in his mind or in his ears.

Merlin. Merlin!

No, Merlinreplies, forcing his voice to radiate outward from his chest with a burst ofmagic. No.

Merlin! the Dragon calls in hismind, and Merlin rolls over, wrapping the pillow tightly around his head andpressing it against his ears, but it makes no difference at all. The words arecoming into his head, after all, not coming into his ears.

He is up the whole night, and an hour before dawn,he finally relents, standing up from his bed and moving sleep-deprived throughthe hall beneath the castle, a torch in his hand as he rapidly descends thestairs. He stumbles when he comes into the great caverns beneath Camelot, and hesends a stone whistling down into the depths.

“You are unsteady on your feet, young warlock.”

“Well, that happens to humans when you don’t letus sleep,” Merlin snaps, rubbing his hand hard at his eye. “I told you. I’m notinterested in your advice anymore, or your help – you don’t care about me, youjust care about my magic.”

“You practised your spells for so long tonight,”the Dragon says, his voice quiet, and sly. “For many hours…”

“Arthur found out I’m a sorcerer,” Merlin says. “Hewon’t speak to me. Are you happy now?” The Dragon leans forward, and Merlinbreathes in as he comes in close enough that Merlin can see the reflection ofhis face in one of his big, yellow eyes, close enough that he can feel the heatthat radiates from his snout and from the hard scales on his nose and jaw.

“It was foretold,” the Dragon says smugly. “All iswell.”

Merlin can’t help the desperate thrum of hope thatvibrates in his chest, and he looks the Dragon in the eye, his lips parted. He’sbreathing heavily, and his heart is beating a little bit faster in his chest.

“What do you mean?” Merlin asks, slowly.

“It was foretold,” the Dragon repeats, leaningback. “This is as it should be.”

“You mean he’ll forgive me?” Merlin asks, hisvoice coming out rapid and quick and clumsy from his mouth. “You mean that he’lllet me back into the—”

“You are no servant, boy,” the Dragon says, in atone of satisfaction. “This was inevitable, and will bode well for youreducation.”

“I told you I’d never let you go,” Merlin says.

“You will,” the Dragon decides. Merlin opens hismouth to reply, to say that he won’t, not ever, but the dragon spreads out hiswings and gives one mighty beat of them, the wind off them punching Merlin backfrom his place at the edge of the outcrop of stone and blowing out his torch,leaving him in the darkness, flat on his arse.

The Dragon flies into the depths of the cavern,his chains clinking as he moves, and Merlin crawls up the stairs.

“Please don’twake me,” he writes on a piece of parchment that he pins to his door. “Couldn’t sleep last night.”

Gaius lets him sleep until noon.

☩♕ ☩ ♕ ☩

“Where is Gaius?” Uther asks as Merlin hands overthe medicine for the old wound in his shoulder. He doesn’t look at Merlin as hespeaks, and instead he focuses on the bottle in his hand, reading the neatlyprinted label Gaius had written on it.

“I’m sorry, sire,” Merlin says, “he’s outside of Camelotat the moment – he had to ride out to Gort, to the East? Their alderman is verysick, and since he’s the village physician, there was no one else to help.” Uthernods his head, and he sets the bottle neatly on the table beside him. His handsbehind his back, Merlin takes a neat step back from the king, and his skinfeels too tight with fear, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. Heknows that if Uther knew, if Arthur had told him, that he already would havesaid something, that he would have had Merlin shackled in irons and burned atthe stake or whatever, but still the fear lingers and bubbles under his skin.

“Arthur says you’ve taken your leave of yourservice to him,” Uther says, conversationally.

“I’m grateful for Arthur’s employment, yourmajesty, but— It was a lot to juggle, both his work and what Gaius gives me,and… Without meaning to, um, to imply that working for Arthur isn’t important,sire, I thought I would serve the court better if I was putting in my earnestas Gaius’ apprentice.” Uther raises his head, and he looks at Merlin for thelongest few seconds – he never usually talks to Merlin if he can help it, andthe scant words he says are usually short demands or insults, but now… Merlindoesn’t know if he imagines it, but he does think that Uther is looking at himdifferently, his chin a little bit higher as he examines Merlin, more respect,maybe, in his face.

“Serving boys are not hard to find,” Uther says, “buta skilled physician is priceless. I have told the steward that I will be augmentingGaius’ wage in accordance with a full-time apprentice on his hands. You shallhave the allowance you had whilst on the castle staff.” He almost throws thewords out, and Merlin gets the feeling that he doesn’t even care, that itbarely gives him pause to put money in Merlin’s coffers even though he isn’tserving the prince anymore.

“Thank you, your majesty,” Merlin says, giving aneat bow of his head and bending his knee slightly.

Is that all it took, to gain the respect of theking, from the beginning?

“Mmm,” Uther hums uncaringly, waving his hand, andMerlin walks swiftly from the hall. As he walks into the corridor outside, henearly walks into Arthur, and he stands very still for a moment. Arthur meetshis gaze.

“What were you doing in the throne hall?” Arthurdemands. For a moment, Merlin keeps his gaze entirely neutral, fixing his stareon Arthur’s and challenging him to look away, his lips pressed together.

“I was giving the king his prescription fromGaius, your highness,” Merlin says crisply, arching one eyebrow in sardonic expectation.“For the injury in his shoulder. Gaius is abroad in Gort, some day’s ride away.”

“Oh,” Arthur says, leaning back on his heelsslightly, and for a moment he opens his mouth, as if he’s about to saysomething, but then he closes it, and he puts his head down. “Right,” he says,and he walks past Merlin, into the throne room.

All will bewell, the Dragon had said. This is asit should be.

Merlin makes his way back to Gaius’ cottage, andhe puts himself to bed.