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#merlin and ygraine were both in arthur's heart because they were both the things arthur couldn't have

deepend-swimmer · 3 years

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Arthur's mother sigil and his love for Merlin

this is the elaboration I promised on my last merthur post (the 'arthur realised he loved merlin unconditionally on the last episode' one) if asked and since @camelotsheart asked I did it :) it's quite big but bare it with me:

As I see, Arthur associates everything that has to do with his duty as prince with Uther. Maybe because Uther loved Ygraine so much and still gave her life for an heir, he only truly ever seen Arthur as the future king, at least more than his actual son. However, Ygraine had Arthur because she wanted a son and not because she wanted a prince, or at least that's what Arthur could have seen as. He never got to actually meet her, but maybe in his eyes, the fact that she died for him and still loved him regardless showed that love didn't have to be conditioned to his duty. So, for Arthur, his mother kind of represented everything he could have been and already is outside of a prince.

And Arthur's affection to Merlin is, for most part, seen outside his duty. "I know I’m a prince, so we can’t be friends, but if I wasn’t a prince..." well excuse me sir, I've seen you be friends for at least a season, 8 episodes ago you were calling him "a true friend". Arthur, for so long, sees that his relationship with Merlin would be different if they weren't on their respective positions, but then he keeps contradicting himself on either they are friends or not (through both actions and words). Yet, when he express to Gwen the wish he sometimes has of leaving Camelot and his duty, have a little farm somewhere no one knows him, it's not surprising that he would bring Merlin, because Merlin is still a defining feature of his life had he not been a prince.

To counterpart this, Arthur's love to Gwen is tied with his position as a prince and Uther. Their relationship starts with Arthur trying to stepdown from his place as prince, he loves Guinevere in defiance to Uther, he thinks of her as his future queen, even when he tries to give up his love for her it's so that the people of Camelot don't see him as weak. The one time he considers his love for her outside of being Prince and King Arthur is when he tells Morgana he would runaway with Gwen now, to then, one day, return back to their rightful place as king and queen of Camelot. If that wasn't enough, Gwen's love for Arthur overcoming her love for Lancelot also comes from his position as prince, when he shows himself to be a more merciful royal and more in touch if his people than Uther. Even one of the ways Gwen demonstrates her devotion and love to Arthur is by taking care of Uther after Morgana's betrayal.

I think everything starts to change in The Coming of Arthur, the first time that he isn't the heir of Camelot. And throughout it all, Merlin is the one beside him, not wavering his devotion or leaving his side for once, sort of proving to Arthur what he had always thought: his and Merlin's relationship isn't conditioned by his position as prince, even if, ultimately, they are master and servant.

Then, season 4 happened. As far as I can see, Arthur realises he is in love with Merlin when he is sure he is going to lose him. It's probably one of the first times since they've met that Arthur needs to let Merlin go and for what? His duty to Camelot and his people. Merlin is literally dying and Arthur wants to take him back to Camelot himself, but he needs to stay in order to insure that no one else from his kingdom dies by the hands of the Dorocha. And even in his dying moments, Merlin begs Arthur to stay by his side. When he comes back alive, Arthur can't even say anything, he needs some full seconds to compose himself. From that point and on, Arthur openly refers to Merlin as his best/only friend. If the longing, lovingly stares weren't enough to prove that at that point Arthur already knew he loved Merlin, we have the fully scripted, filmed and edited deleted scene: Arthur gives his mother's sigil to Merlin.

I think it says a lot that it was planned for his mother's sigil to go to Merlin and the Pendragon's seal to Guinevere. Merlin getting one of the only things Arthur has of his mother, the one person he sees as proof that love for him doesn't need to be conditioned to him being the Once and Future King of Camelot, when since the very beginning of the series Merlin destiny was to fulfill Arthur's as that king. And I see it as Arthur best effort to acknowledge all that and let Merlin know that he loves him just as much as he loved her. On the other side, Gwen getting the seal shows once again how much their love, despite its true nature, is really tied with Arthur's position and he passes down that condition of reigning Camelot to Guinevere, because he knows she will fulfill it with her whole heart just as he had always seen it.

So when in the last episode, he finds out that Merlin is what his father has battled his whole life, something that Arthur had time and time again decided to keep it outlawed for the sake of Camelot and that Merlin had supported it all those times, putting Arthur's and Camelot's sake over his own, he is understandably taken back. Merlin put his duty to Arthur above everything, through years and years and all Arthur had ever wanted was to give off his own to spend his life with him. But now, he already gave the royal seal to Gwen, Arthur is no longer the sovereign to Camelot and he is there with Merlin, in a place no one knows him, and he doesn't feel the weight of Albion upon his shoulder and Merlin still loves and cares for him despite his initial rejection and he is dying. He has everything he has ever secretly wished for but with the unfortunate detail that he is dying, despite how much Merlin wants to convince himself he can save him.

It takes time for Arthur to forgive Merlin's betrayal, not because he has magic but rather because he didn't trust Arthur enough to not need to lie for all this years when Arthur trusted him far above anyone else. He ultimately forgives Merlin because he can feel himself succumbing quicker and quicker with each second and he doesn't want to die with Merlin thinking he is angry at him or worst, that he hates him. Then, Merlin goes all the way and make the plow fields speech and Arthur thinks he could break right there, the devotion overflowing Merlin's being with every word acting as a switch inside his mind: there is not one bit of Arthur that doesn't love every single bit of Merlin and nothing could ever change that.

#i didn't even realise camelotsheart had the sigil as their icon lmao what a coincidence #it's a long analysis guys basically the only thing i did today #i wrote this instead of working on my merthur fic lmao #merthur #merlin bbc #merlin #arthur pendragon #it also has arwen bc i think they loved each other even if gwen would always love lancelot and arthur loved merlin too #uther pendragon #ygraine pendragon #guinevere pendragon #character analysis #deaif #dave writes

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wtfisgoingonanymore · 4 years

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Birthdays In Camelot

Sooooooooo three of my very good and very dear friends had their birthday and I wanted to do something for them. I know this isn’t much, but 1. I am dead inside and school continues to kill me, and 2. …yeah. I’m dead inside. I just wanted to dedicate a little something to you three amazing beautiful perfect angels because you guys are some of the best people ever and you’re always so kind and nice to me. I wanted to return the favor somehow someway. I probablyyyy should’ve made three separate ones for each of you, but I have multiple papers to finish up for next week. I’ll try and do better next time, but for now this is all I have.

So!!! in the spirit of @gayfirebender @thatone-nerdygirl and @junemo10 , this is for you.

Birthdays:

Birthdays are a big thing for Merlin. When he was in Ealdor, he and his mother didn’t really have enough money to celebrate in a big way.

It was usually a slightly better porridge or a new tunic if they were REALLY lucky.

So when Merlin started earning his wages, he immediately looked for the best present he could ever get his mother and then he one upped it the next year

It started out with a delicious meal stolen from the royal cook herself and worked it’s way up to a dress that looked simple enough for a peasant but felt like it was made for a queen

Having ties to Arthur sure helped that out

SO! because of Merlin’s love for birthdays, you know he goes all out for all his friends

It makes Percival so. soft. whenever Merlin skips to him on his birthday and gives him a present

His favorite, by far, is when Merlin gave him an amazing little tree that he takes care off very well. (It’s a magical bonzai.)

Elyan is excited for his birthday cause Merlin gave him the best gifts. His favorite is definitely the new armor design that Merlin drew up based on different knights from different kingdoms. Elyan made it and uses it for himself and himself only.

Leon was very surprised to get a gift from Merlin. It was long long ago when Arthur was still prince and they barely spoke at all.

He was surprised to catch him in his room- setting down a basket full of large bottles.

Merlin was a blushing embarrassed mess at being caught. He and Leon had never had a proper conversation since before that.

He stuttered his way to explain that he knew Leon was constantly aching from past battle wounds, so he made large batches of Gaius’ special salves and potions for Leon to use. That is objectively the best gift Merlin ever got for him because of the memory that came with it.

However, Merlin setting him up on a date with George will soon be the best one yet.

Gwen is a pouty baby because “Merlin! You didn’t have to get me anything! I’m already happy with our friendship.”

She accepts the gifts anyway. Her favorite is definitely the specially made and designed family seal that is dedicated to her father. She cried so much and keeps it with her all the time

Gwaine. Ohhhhh Gwaine. His gifts started out fun, you know? A pint of mead, Finally being able to take Merlin out for a pint, A fully paid night of drinking. Those sort of stuff

But then Merlin goes and starts writing him all these long ass letters. All these letters that talk about how much Merlin appreciates him and how great of a person he is

And Gwaine never fails to ugly cry on those letters. He keeps them all in a special box- it remains his most prized possession.

Lancelot counted himself lucky. With Magic now an available option, Merlin gave Lancelot the best of the best presents from day one of their friendship.

His absolute favorite present, however, is the magichand made knight’s armor, outfit, and sword that Merlin made for him after becoming a knight. It was enchanted too because obviously

Gaius, like Lancelot, got some of the best gifts ever with the help of magic.

Merlin gave him tons of very exotic and new herbs and plants to work with. He’d summon them from a land far away just for Gaius and then plant them somewhere, so he’d have more.

But the best one by far is the new equipment Merlin got for him. Each and everyone had words painted or etched onto it: “Best Father Figure” “Best Physcian” “Best Mentor”. It was nice little reminders that touched Gaius’ heart constantly

Before Morgana left, Merlin’s gift to her were not at all the exquisite gifts that she normally got. No, it was much much better.

Merlin always gave her a peasant’s dress and snuck her out to explore the lower town with him. They’d buy little random trinkets and food and then go out to play and eat in a forest clearing far away from the tyranny and the hate and the duties of royalty.

She didn’t realize until later on that those were the best presents because Merlin always took her to a place where magic was most alive and beautiful and calming and thriving.

Arthur’s birthday was always a tricky one for Merlin. This was his other half and the man he was kinda a little bit very in love with- it had to be perfect.

But in the end, it didn’t really take much thinking at all. This was his other half and the man he was very much in love after all.

Arthur would never be able to decide what his favorite gift from Merlin was. Anything that man gave him, he absolutely loved with all his heart

He didn’t know if it was the refurbished painting of his mother or the tiny farm that was set up for the both of them when they needed a break or maybe all the necklaces and letters and bracelets and tunics Merlin crafted especially for him.

He does know which one he takes especially good care of- even more so than his farm and painting. The most precious gift Merlin has ever given him: His magical heart.

And so obviously, Merlin had to have the best birthday of them all. While everyone got him nice gifts too, they had to give him the best one after a very stressful and bumpy magic and love revealing year.

Normally, it would’ve been a feast. Arthur knew that was definitely not the case. This was Merlin- he wanted it small and intimate.

They set up the nice round table dinner with just their group of friends.

Merlin was already crying when they brought them there.

After eating, they’d all give their gifts to him one by one. Just seeing his friends line up made Merlin cry with appreciation again. Arthur made him sit on the throne for this one.

Percival grinned wide as he gave Merlin pots of the most beautiful flowers and herbs that would typically be needed in potion making.

Elyan was practically bouncing off the walls as he presented a staff he made alongside the druids.

Gwen had to shove Elyan out of the way to present the very special hand made outfits she made for him- fit for royalty.

Leon smiled and chuckled as he gave him the exact same potions and salves Merlin gave to him that first time because now he knew that Merlin needed it too.

Gwaine smirked and stuck his tongue out as he went out and brought back Hunith with him. While they were greeting each other, he slipped his very long and more tear-inducing letter with the rest of Merlin’s gift.

Gaius smiled as he gave Merlin a key. A key to his new magical workshop that Gaius and his very bad back worked on. Later on, Merlin would cry in there as he read all the labels Gaius put everywhere: “Best Son” “Best Warlock” “Best Student” “My Best Merlin.”

Arthur was nervous ash he walked up to Merlin. He tried to speak three times before sighing in defeat. He handed him a scroll that officially declared the magic ban lifted.

Merlin was sobbing at that point. He didn’t know how it could get any better really.

Except that Morgana burst in with a gust of wind in a true dramatic fashion.

Everyone was on defense immediately as they turned to face her.

They all let out different gasps and choked sobs when they were not faced with a wild haired all black outfit Morgana, but with a Morgana in a peasant dress, a basket in hand full of knickknacks and food, and tears in her eyes.

Later on in the night when Merlin slipped into Arthur’s arms, he got his final greatest present.

Ygraine’s ring and four words.

“Will you marry me?”

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scoooby · 4 years

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The Reason to Live (is to Die For This)

Read on AO3

Continue to read on Tumblr

Beta: @tenderlyannoyinglight

Word count: 6.3k

Trigger warning: descriptions of pain, death and violence.

Relationship: Merlin/Arthur *if you don't like merthur it can be taken as gen if you skip the last hundred words

Summary:

"I don't want to leave him. He thinks. I can't.

It shouldn't be the first thing he thinks of. He should be thinking of his mother, Gaius, Gwen. He should be thinking of how Kilgharrah had said he was an immortal, but Kilgharrah is also a big lying liar who lies, so he shouldn't have believed him. But he doesn't think of any of those things, after ten years of sacrificing, his brain is wired to think of Arthur, only of him."

In which Merlin is stabbed instead of Arthur. Oops.

Merlin doesn't know where the blood came from, flowing down and not stopping. There's so much of it staining the ground and his clothes, forming a puddle, he feels dizzy and nauseous looking at it. It's been almost ten years, but the sight of injury still repulses him. It scares him even more because he can't find its source. No, it terrifies him. Whose blood is it? Where is he, exactly? But he tries not to dwell on it and wonders where Arthur is. Wasn't he just here? Silly Arthur, always disappearing.

He giggles, then sobers up. He has more important things to worry about. Like the blood. Blood is so red. Like strawberries. He wishes he could make strawberries right now, Freya likes them. Speaking of which, he should probably talk to her soon.

He touches his hand to his abdomen, startled when he feels something wet and sticky. Oh.

Oh.

It's his blood. He's been maimed. He's the one dying.

I don't want to leave him. He thinks. I can't .

It shouldn't be the first thing he thinks of, and he should be thinking of his mother, Gaius, Gwen. He should be thinking of how Kilgharrah had said he was an immortal, but Kilgharrah is also a big lying liar who lies, so he shouldn't have believed him. But he doesn't think of any of those things, after ten years of sacrificing, his brain is wired to think of Arthur, only of him.

It shouldn’t be. He should be more carefree and alive and happy, like he is now. And he’s so happy.

He distantly hears a thud behind him, as if something heavy, clad in metal, had fallen. Swords are made of metal. So is armour. Stupid armour. It takes so fucking long to put armour on Arthur.

He feels hysteria rise up in his throat, he feels like laughing, He doesn’t know why. He’s been stabbed, he should care more. But those thoughts don’t even hit him. He wants to run, to jump. He could fly, like Kilgharrah. Or Aithusa. Can Aithusa fly? He would have to ask Morgana.

But Morgana doesn’t like him.

Maybe Balinor would know when dragons start to fly. He knows a lot, right?

Oh, but he can’t. Balinor is dead. Balinor is extremely dead and rotting. Hunith would be sad if she found out, he doesn’t want her to be sad. She deserves the world. He won’t tell her.

“Don’t worry,” he coos, even though there’s no one there. “I won’t tell.”

He tries to get up, but his knees are weak. He doesn't know why his ears have started to ring. Hhhhh. Hhh. That’s all he hears. It sounds weird. Weird. Weirdweirdweirdweirdweird. What a word, All words should be like it.

Everything is just a blob of grey and black. All he sees is a spinning world and green spots in the corner of his vision. He doesn’t mind, he likes green. He tries to say something, to scream maybe, yet all that comes out is a small, meagre groan.

He feels his eyes closing- And that's it. That's all there is-numbness, and then nothing.

Arthur is not ashamed to admit that he killed Mordred. The knight almost killed Merlin and dared to smile after doing so. Arthur couldn't just let him get away with it, no matter how much it pained him. Guilt doesn’t even come to mind. Mordred isn’t worth it - he tells himself as he walks, knees shaking, towards his manservant's body laying still on the ground.

He's bleeding at an alarming rate. His eyes are closed; his face deathly pale. Arthur doesn't bother with modesty as he rips the stupid brown jacket off (one would think he would come into battle wearing proper armor, at least). He had imagined doing it many times before, in entirely different circumstances, maybe with a bed underneath them.

Merlin torso is littered with scars as wood is with lines. Most of them are healed, so that only white lines are painting Merlin’s pale skin, while others are red, but still no cause for intervention. An enormous hole inflicted near his lungs, however does. Arthur’s not new to blood or injuries, but looking at this one does make him wanna vomit.

He stops, unsure of what to do. His hands hover over the body. What can he do, dammit? He knows first aid, Gaius taught him some when he was little. Nothing has ever come close or as grave as to this. He has been taught to call for the help of nurses, never to do it himself. He has to stop the bleeding, but how ? He's supposed to tie something around it; he remembers that much at least. He looks towards Merlin's face, exhausted and un-moving, a red cloth loosely tied around his neck. All he has to do to stop the blood temporarily, until he delivers Merlin to safe, more medically trained hands, is to tie the stupid red neckerchief around and hope for it to be the right thing.

He prays as he puts it around the gash. He's not entirely sure who he's praying to. It’s an unconscious reflex to beg for health. To be able to say it is someone else's fault, because he knows it's his. He should never have let Merlin come in front of him; let the sword pierce him. Damn him; damn Merlin; damn Mordred; damn the War; damn Morgana; damn everything.

It sickens him, all of it. This cave, this life. The air is dirty. The metallic smell of blood engulfing everything and making it its own. Throwing up would sound like a good idea if Arthur didn’t have more pressing matter at hand.

The air also smells of disappointment. What is he even doing? He's just two years into his reign, the army is practically gone. So many knights are dying in his name, right now, with their belief in him. And now Merlin is going to die too.

No. Merlin can't die, I won't allow it. His resolve hardens as he picks him up in his arms, Merlin’s head on his shoulder, back bent so gravity can keep the blood inside. and carries him through the mass of dead bodies. Arthur places him on the horse and climbs on behind him, arms on the reins and still supporting Merlin’s head.

It's a long ride home. You have to make it. For him. Is the only thought he clings to.

The aftermath of the war lingers everywhere. Bodies within quarter of a mile of another, their sunken eyes staring at them as the ride past.

No one stops them, too busy focusing on their own injured. Arthur's head is down to not see them. They probably hate him. With all of his being, he agrees.

Morgana, from an early age, showed to be better fitted for the crown. Might have even made Camelot a better place, once upon a time, in a time long gone.

Now they're both just as terrible and ill-fitted for his home.

He tries not to think of her, it’s too painful. So, he focuses on saving Merlin again. Merlin. His best friend, who he had always hoped would become something more. His rock, the only one he could trust. Something he has proved over and over again, but something he had realised only during his father's funeral.

Uther’s death is a recent memory. Arthur had cried until there were no tears left to shed over anyone else after. Not out of love or grievance. His father’s love for him was long gone before he himself was. But because the moment Uther’s life ended, Arthur’s reign began and the feeling of no support or companionship with it. Morgana was gone. Ygraine had never been there to begin with, and the overwhelming responsibility hit him- hard . He had felt so alone. There was no one there for him. No one cared.

Then Merlin had placed a hand on his shoulder, whispered to him, told him he was going to be a great king and that he was sorry. As if Merlin was at fault. As if he wasn't the only reason Arthur was still standing.

It made him see more clearly that he might not ruin the kingdom- his kingdom. A spark of heat, mixed with joy and sorrow ignited like wildfire spread all over his chest, then back, arms and legs followed soon, and finally his face; he returned Merlin’s sentiment with a warm smile.

Maybe that's when he had fallen in love, or when he had realized that Merlin was the only one he could trust. He's still not sure which one it was, maybe the love had come slowly, or maybe, and just the seed had been planted back then, or maybe it had come fact and crashing.

And now he was going to be gone too. Arthur sighs, his eyes drooping from a week of no sleep. Everyone leaves. They always leave. Maybe he still had some tears left.

The dark is disorienting. Is he sleeping? Is he even alive? He has to be, he has to make sure Arthur gets back home.

"Emrys," he hears someone say. No, not someone- Morgana. Her voice is unmistakable, ragged and sickly sweet at the same time. She had always been like that, even before, a dizzying array of opposites.

"Witch," he whispers. "Why have you brought me here?"

The smugness in her voice is apparent, "That's very hypocritical of you, isn't it? After all, you're magical too. More than me, even." She didn't answer his question. "All alone now, aren’t you? No one to save you." He shakes his head; how did he manage to get here? The last thing he was doing was shouting at Arthur to bring him along ("I always thought you were the bravest man I knew." “That’s not fair.") Arthur's face had been so disappointed, and it had broken Merlin's heart. But if the war was still going on, then no one would be coming for him. He will have to get out of this by himself.

"What. Do. You. Want." He grits out, he doesn't have the patience, nor the time for this, he has to help them. The knights are strong, but even the strongest of human kind wouln’t last long against an immortal army. He has to be there with them, to help them, to keep them alive. No matter how much his words hurt, Merlin will still save them, because that is what he does.

She laughs. " You."

"I don't have time for games, leave me be."- turning his head around trying to locate Morgana’s voice; the darkness, the nothingness, hasn’t changed.

"Oh, but why would I do that?" Her cold hands are taking hold of his chin, nails digging into his face. She's right in front of him. Her silky dress pooling onto his feet, the edges of her dirty hair grazing his arms. "I have you right where I want you, no one is going to come to save you. I only need one thing from you." She pauses, her fingers snap; there are fires surrounding them in a circle. He struggles against the bonds of rope he didn't realize were tied onto him, but it's of no use.

She’s clearer now, seen better days too. Bags under her crazed eyes, a ragged and torn black gown, a cloak is gracing her hunched back. Frankly, it looks like she hasn’t taken a bath in months. She doesn’t even resemble the Morgana he used to know, the compassionate and cunning one.

This is his creation; he is the reason she is like this. He never should have listened to the fucking dragon, he should have told her about his magic, maybe things would be different then.

"I won't do anything for you,” he hisses. “I would rather die.”

“Oh, you will.” She says it like it’s a fact as if it’s inevitable that he will die soon, and a tremor goes from his head to his toes in a matter of a second. He’s supposed to be immortal, supposed to live for a long, long time. He’s not scared of dying, he supposes. He’s scared of what will happen afterwards. “And it will hurt, I can tell you that, it will hurt so much.” She inches even closer, impossibly so. “But that won’t be the worst part, no. The worst part will be that no one will care . Arthur won’t care. No matter what you have done for him, he won’t even notice you’re gone.”

He’s silent as her words sink in. Sow themselves into his brain, into his heart, tries to convince himself it’s not true.

“Arthur won’t rescue you. You need his help, but he doesn’t have your back. He’s not even looking for you. If you’re drowning, if you’re about to crack, will he even care?” Something on his face makes her look smug like she’s already won. “Face it, Merlin.” That’s the first time she’s called him Merlin and not Emrys since she found out. “You don’t matter to him. He thinks you’re disposable, But I know better.”

Merlin looks up at her. "You're sick," he spits, although it sounds small, unsure. "He would look for me. I know he would." The statement is more for himself than her.

She gives a small, cruel smile as if to convey to him how pathetic he is. “All I need you to do,” she continues, “is to tell me where you are once this ends.”

He's about to ask her what she means, when the fires go out and it all turns dark again.

He stops in the forest, to rest, though he's not sure if Merlin will even survive by the end of it. He lays him down against a rock and lights a fire. He has to make something to feed them, or they'll die of starvation before Morgana's knights get to them. He surveys the clearing they're in, and he's about to walk towards what he is almost sure is an edible plant (emphasis on the almost, kings don't always learn about herbs), when he hears Merlin whispers. He snaps back, his eyes are open, a once tantalizing clear blue now murky and grey.

"Arthur" he murmurs. "Art- I-"

He holds up a hand "I'm here Merlin," he says. "I'm here but don't speak, you need to preserve your energy."

He doesn't listen. "I-I need to tell you something and," he gasps, trying to breathe, "and I need you to listen without interrupting."

Arthur wants to tell him whatever he needs to say probably isn't as important as his life, but the look on his face tells him that it might be.

Merlin shudders, clearly exhausted. "I ha-have magic," he rasps. Arthur's mind goes blank. It's a joke, it has to be. Merlin can't have betrayed him too. He takes a step toward him, to reach out maybe, but thinks better of it.

"Stop being silly," he commands, but it comes out shaky.

Merlin eyes seem wet. When he opens his mouth to speak, all that comes out is a bare whisper, "I ne-needed to tell you. In, in case, I-I, uh, die."

"You can't die." He clasps Merlin shoulder this time, leaning down. "But stop delusioning yourself Merlin. You don't have magic, I would know." It's not real, he would've been able to tell. This can't be true, it can't.

"And I use it for you," he continues, seeing his expression. "Only-only for you."

"Shut up," Arthur whispers. Merlin flinches back. "Shut up, shut up, shut up."

"I-," he starts, but he cuts him off.

"Do not speak to me."

Arthur looks at him, something rising in his throat. He thought it would be bile, but it's laughter. Of course, of course, the only person he trusts has magic.

He stands up and walks away, until he's sure Merlin won't be able to see him.

Merlin’s heart sinks as he stares at Arthur’s back, she was right. He told him about his magic, and now he was leaving him to die in a forest, never mind the reason he was dying was that he had taken a sword for Arthur. Never mind that he had spent a decade protecting him, trying to stop hundreds of people from killing someone he himself hadn’t particularly cared for at the beginning. Never mind the fact that he had sacrificed so much, just so he could be comfortable living in a castle built on the sins of his father and the corpses of magic users. Ten years, all down the drain. Merlin wants to laugh, of course, it comes done to this. To Arthur abandoning him because he told him something he didn’t want to hear. Fuck him, fuck the pendragons. Couldn’t let him die in peace.

He stews in it for a while, too tired to cry. Too sick of everything to even care anymore. He won’t tell her though; couldn’t let it all go to waste. She’ll find out anyway, he knows, she has her sources.

Yet, he has more important things to focus on, Arthur will either come back, or he won’t. But his wound stays. The giddiness is gone, replaced with something else. Something warm, like a fire in his stomach.

He presses down on his abdomen. as he sighs sharply through his nose, it helps with the increasing pain, stabbing his bone and overtaking his senses.

His lungs struggle to breathe, it feels as if they’re filling with water as he drowns; his whole body burns as his back arches and writhes. It’s like there’s thousands of needles being pushed into him from everywhere, as if the needles had been pulled out from a fire before being inserted into him- red hot and painful, so painful. He wants to stand up, to run and jump into a lake, but his legs feel like jelly, he can’t move. It hurts so much. He hears distant echoes of screams; they’re probably coming from him. And just like that, it starts to ebb. The needles being pulled out hurts more, but the small burns they leave behind are definitely better than it was before. He slumps down against a tree, numb.

He feels his eyes droop. His pain is still shooting through his body, but at least he has some time before he has to feel it again.

He wakes up again in some time, not sure when. It doesn't hurt as much as it did before. He’s just tired. He lays there for what feels like hours, but the sun hasn’t even set, so it was probably a few minutes.

To his immense surprise, he comes back. Arthur… comes back.

"Come back to finish the job, huh?" Merlin snarls, refusing to believe that maybe he came back to help him because he cared for him. It's too good to be true. Arthur is compassionate and he is kind, but not to magic users. "One stab wound wasn't enough for you?"

Arthur's already been saved from the imminent death of his which has been prophesied for a few centuries already, Merlin no longer has to worry, and he doesn't want to either. If this is his reward, to be called a coward, to be ignored and hut out, what everything had been leading up to, he might as well have died years ago. He used to wake up with only Arthur in mind, He loved him, still does. He’s not going to go out any other way.

He was the reason he lived, and he is the reason Merlin is going to die.

Arthur recoils in shock, his mouth is hanging open a little.

Good , Merlin thinks, he needs a wake-up call.

"What?" He asks.

Merlin hopes his expression can convey his feelings and how unamused he is because his throat is clogged up and he's too exhausted to say a word more. He may be a warlock, but it doesn’t change the fact that he is in unbearable pain.

Arthur looks at him as if he's grown a second head. "You- you thought I was going to kill you?"

There's no reply. Arthur comes forward, stops when he sees how scared the other man becomes. He sits down onto the cold, hard ground. "Merlin," he says softly, "I, I'm angry at you, I'm not going to lie, but I would never, never kill you. I- how could you even-" he trails off, he kicks some dirt glumly. "Just, we’ll talk about this when we're back home, okay? When you're better."

Arthur doesn't know how Merlin could think that. He would never- he didn’t even imagine doing anything other than demoting him, at most. He feels betrayed, and he feels let down. But this is Merlin. If he practiced magic, there must have been a good reason.

Fuck. Has he been that bad of a friend? Has he been so distant that Merlin thought Arthur was going to kill him? He knows he should be angrier, and just a few hours ago, he was. He was ready to yell and to scream and to rage, but then he thought of Morgana. About how he used to love her, and how she changed when he turned her away, He doesn’t want the same to happen to Merlin, doesn’t want him to change too. If Merlin dies because Arthur abandons him, he will never forgive himself.

So, as he snuffs out the fire and tries to cover up his tracks, because he knows Morgana will be looking for them, he doesn’t say anything. When he picks Merlin up and places him on the horse, he tries to be as gentle as he can. When he squeezes Merlin's hand in what he hopes is comforting, he just hopes Merlin doesn’t hate him completely.

Merlin floats in and out of consciousness for what he thinks is a day, but he can’t be sure. When he first wakes up, he’s trotting along on a horse, Arthur behind him, and then he’s in front of a fire, sitting on the ground, then the horse again. Once, he wakes up to strangled screams, but he’s not sure what was going on. He’s too scared to ask. The fifth time he wakes up, however, it’s different. It’s not a coincidence, it’s on purpose, Arthur is shaking him awake. He makes out that they are next to the lake, where he has sent away so many corpses already.

It's calm and serene, obvious to all that is happening around it.

“Wha-” he starts to say blearily, he knows they haven’t reached Camelot yet, so what is going on?

Arthur silences him by placing a hand on his mouth. “We’ve got company,” he whispers. Merlin stiffens up, never a good thing. Not when you’re trekking through the woods, your companion and you both in bad conditions, both starving, one run through with a sword. Not when your companion is the ruler of kingdom which has war being waged against it.

“Arthur,” he says, his voice still sounding heavy and drowsy.

“What?” His mouth feels swollen, and he is incredibly tired, but he can tell he’s agitated, so he doesn't beat around. “Use the sword."

He looks surprised, the expression he hates. The one he uses whenever he realises that he underestimates everyone around him. "I think I know how to use a sword better than you do, Mer lin."

Prat.

"I mean, don't use your old sword, use Excalibur. It can kill anything. " Saying even this much feels like he just ran from Ealdor to Camelot without break, but he manages.

He opens his mouth to reply, but then his eyes widen. "Did you hear that?" His voice is low but urgent. Merlin blinks, he didn't hear anything other than the wind and- oh, he hears it now. There's distant screaming, coming from a woman from what it sounds like. It's barely noticeable, but the sounds of footsteps and something heavy being dragged on the forest floor towards them is much, much louder.

They exchange glances, only for a second. Merlin gestures towards the sword and Arthur nods, not questioning him for once.

Merlin tries to speak, he wants to help, but his throat is becoming clogged, and his vision is becoming blurry and- I am not going to survive. He thinks, before his eyes roll back into his head, and he passes out once more.

Arthur does not dare to say anything, or to do anything, other than stay frozen in his spot, sword in hand.

The noises are coming closer and closer. The screams have subsided now, but the steps have not. He knows he should highball out of there, but he has a feeling that whatever is coming their way cannot be outrun, and 50% of his lessons in swordplay focuses only on telling him to follow his gut.

"Emrys," says a voice. He inhales sharply, he recognizes that voice; knows it better than he has any right too.

"Morgana," he breathes.

She pouts, looking disappointed. "Seems like our Emrys isn't awake. Shame, I wanted him to see you die." She says it casually, as if she tells her once-brother that she’s going to kill him every day.

He reminds himself - this is not his sister, not the woman he grew up with. If he doesn’t kill her, she will kill him. And she will take his kingdom.

But he never meant for them to get caught up in this, he had to control himself. He can’t rush to hug her or stab her. He can see a flicker of what she used to be, the brave, young woman. He needs her to hold onto that. If she doesn’t, he will have to do it. And he really, really doesn’t want to.

But as she lunges at him, the flicker ebbs out. She has slipped through his hands, and she has changed. She has been carried away by the waves of sorcery, and it has ruined her. He remembers her being his hero when they were young, when they used to sneak out of the castle to look at the stars. Her arguing with Uther over whether it was right to commit genocide, the irony of which has stuck with him. Her teaching him to use the sword, having already mastered it herself. Her forcing him to make friends with Gwen, who grew to become his ex-lover and best friend and surrogate queen. The memories keep on coming, and they don't stop. But she, like everyone else, changed. No matter what time, she is different now. It will never come back. He wants to go back, when they were innocent and naive, when everything was left for them to discover.

But he can’t.

So he fights back instead.

It's all he can do to make his hands steady as his blade sinks into her stomach, as he buries it deeper and deeper until it comes out on the other side. She looks surprised, then grim. She'll be alive for a few days, at most, a few minutes, at best.

But he can't bear to leave her suffering, alive but dying, tortured. So, he stabs her again, this time aiming for the heart, and again. And again. And again. When he is sure that she's dead, he stops, sliding onto his knees. He glares at the sword in contempt. He killed her; he killed his sister.

No .

He killed the woman who wanted to burn his kingdom to the ground. He had no other choice.

But what sort of person is he? He's killed both his knight and his former sister on the same day, with the same sword.

He grips it harder, then looks at the lake. He needs to get rid of it, that's what he needs to do. No one can find out what happened today, he can't let them. He raises it and throws it in. He had thought it would land on the banks, considering how heavy it is, but it doesn't. Instead, the sword flies out of his grip, and cuts through the air, towards the lake. He swears he can see a hand reaching out of the water to catch it, but it's probably a trick of the light.

He turns to her body laid on the ground, eyes open and unblinking, mouth looking as if gasping for breath, cloak sprawled around her like wings. She's dead.

Somehow, he knows if he had used the other sword, she would not be; he knows enough about magic to realise that the high priestess cannot be taken down by a normal weapon.

But Excalibur was not normal, was it? Just another thing to add to his list of questions.

It takes him thirty more minutes to dispose of her body in the lake, staring as it sinks deeper into the water. He doesn't look away, no. He deserves this. He has to remember, and he will.

He doesn't move for a long, long time. Only goes so when he realizes that, although she is dead, Merlin is not yet. Arthur intends to keep it that way. He turns his back on her. Every step drains him, but he does it.

He can't be left alone again.

It takes them two more days to arrive in Camelot. All of it passes in awkward silence, with Merlin getting paler and paler with every passing second. Arthur doesn’t say anything out loud, but his mind is racing. He doesn’t think of them. He can’t. So he focuses on magic instead. He’s not sure if he trusts magic fully, even now, but maybe he should be more open-minded. Maybe he should give it a chance. Maybe it'll be different than it was with Morga- her.

When he arrives, it is completely different to what he had expected. There are mourners, of course. People in white, downcast expressions, closed windows, doors painted black. But there are also red banners hanging everywhere, citizens cheering as he rides past, ignoring Merlin behind him. Cries of "she is dead" and "the war is over". People are grieving, and there are those celebrating. He doesn't ask how they know of her death, he doesn't want to know. They tell him anyway. Apparently, the army stopped attacking, all of a sudden. They had cried, and shouted, and had turned back. It is unclear why, but Arthur knows he is the reason. Morgana dying at his hands is the reason.

Some help him get to Gaius', seeing how unamused he looks. They clear out the road, offer them water. Arthur is grateful for them, glad that at least some of his people acknowledged the dying man and had tried to help.

The physician is busy when he throws the door open, Merlin in tow. There are many, many people here. All with varying degrees of injuries. Arthur can’t bear to look at them. It’s his fault. It’s all his fault. So he ignores them, marches up to him.

“He’s- he’s been stabbed,” he chokes out.

Gaius’ eyes widen, and he rushes to follow Arthur. He lays Merlin out on one of the few empty beds, his body sprawls out on it. It’s sickening to look at as if he’s dead already.

He sets to work immediately, ordering Arthur to fetch herbs and vials and all sorts of things he doesn’t know the uses of. The people around them stare at him blankly, as if they know he’s the king, but they don’t fully recognise him.

He knows when he is not needed anymore, and backs away to watch. It's odd, and it feels so wrong. It's wrong to watch as Merlin is cut open and healed. Like he's invading his privacy. Merlin deserves better than to be put on a show in front of so many people.

He does try to help. Tries to tell as many people as he can to move to the castle, where he is sure more doctors would be willing to help, but some are in too bad of a condition to be moved as they are tended to by nurses. So he elects to focus on his friend instead.

Gaius' hands have always been steady, for as long had Arthur had known him. He cuts open bodies without worry, without even flinching. Which is not the case today, he notices. No, his hands are shaking. Not much as to be obvious, but he's known the man for far too long to not be able to tell when he's scared.

He thinks Merlin is going to die .

Arthur recoils violently. He doesn't know where the thought came from, because it's not true. It can’t be.

Merlin is going to survive. He tells himself.

Merlin. Is. Going. To. Survive.

Merlinisgoingtosurvive

MerlinisgoingtosurviveMerlinisgoingtosurvuveMerlinisgoingtosurvive

He repeats under his breath, rocking himself back and forth on his heels until he almost believes it. He has to.

He's not sure where the time has passed, because Gaius is in front of him all of a sudden but Arthur remembers him standing over the table just seconds ago.

Gaius shakes his head and it takes a few minutes for it to register in his mind. Arthur can't be looking at him, and his heartbreaking face. Just like him, Gaius' only support was Merlin. Was. Not is, was. Merlin is barely dead, and Arthur is already starting to think of him as a memory.

The physician knows what it feels like, but Arthur doesn't care.

"You should've done better," he hisses. He doesn't regret it. Doesn’t regret causing the shock he’s caused Gaius. But it's his fault too. He's the one Merlin took a sword for. But he needs to blame someone else. Because he doesn't want to think of the implications of Merlin dying at his hands. Gaius looks at him as if he is about to break, so Arthur walks away. From him, towards the corpse. He can't bear to face another person he's hurt.

It can't be true. There's got to be something he can do, something. He can't die, he can’t fucking die. Not when there's not much left to say. Not when they've just won. It's supposed to be a thing to celebrate, a war ending, he can't mourn. He can't give a speech to his kingdom which wasn't written by his best friend. Can't lose him. He doesn't think he'll be able to live without him.

He doesn't want to. He won't.

Merlin looks too much at peace, content in a way Arthur hasn't seen him in a long time. His long lashes casting shadows onto his freckled skin, his lips are twisted into a scowl, but he is at peace. He still looks the same, though. Beautiful and striking. Arthur's rock.

And dead.

Arthur’s hands move at their own accord, to stroke the side of his face. A sob escapes him before he can stop it, pushing through his throat. His people need assurance, and him crying like a bloody fool won't help. But that's the last thing on his mind. All he knows is Merlin is dead.

He isn’t able to stop staring, can't help wondering what he will do now. Whether the body will be burned or buried. He will be given a hero's funeral, it's no less than he deserves. He will be clothed in Camelot’s colours, or maybe his Ealdor's. Hunith would know better.

Oh lord, Hunith. She will have to find out through a letter. No. Arthur will have to go to tell her. He can't let her go through it alone.

He's about to turn away, to tell someone to help him move the body when his lips move.

Merlin's mouth opens, just a little bit, but enough to tell that he's alive.

Arthur feels a shock go through him. It was just an illusion.

Right?

"Merlin?" he asks. It can't be true, no matter how much he wants it to be. It was probably a trick of the light, but that can't be right. Because Merlin's eyes are opening and he's staring at him and some colour is returning to his cheeks and oh-

This the man he loves. And he waking up.

"Ar- Arth," he begins but Arthur shushes him. He’s alive, he’s speaking. He doesn’t know how, but it’s real. It’s actually real.

"I'm here," he assures him "I'm here." He shocks even himself as he leans down to kiss him. He's even more surprised when Merlin kisses him back. It only lasts a second before he pulls back, but he just kissed Merlin. It was rough, it wasn't perfect. But he's breathing. They're both here. He can't ask for more.

"Wha- what was," he exhales through his nose, as if speaking taxes him, "that for?"

"I wanted to," he says, shrugging, still not over the euphoria. He just lost him, he’s never going to again. The least he can do is not hide from the truth. "And, I, I also kind of love you. Like, I’m in love with you."

His eyes widen a fraction, but Arthur can tell he’s too tired to question it further.

He wants to say more, he has so many questions as to how he's still breathing, when he started practicing magic, why, but he doesn’t. He has time, they have all the time in the world.

He turns his back, yelling for Gaius. The physician shows up immediately, face lighting up when he takes in the sight of his son very much not-dead.

"We'll figure it out," he says, though he's not sure he heard him over the noise. "We'll figure it out." He grins. Yeah, they'll figure it out.

He swears, Merlin is beaming right back at him.

51 notes · View notes

a-small-batch-of-dragons · 3 years

Note

Merlin prompt for you, if you take requests. Thanks! — Merlin is Arthur’s long lost twin (neither of them knew) and at birth, before she died, Ygraine begged a servant to send Merlin far away to protect him from Uther. Hunith ended up finding Merlin on her doorstep and the rest is history- cue the boys discovering this together!

Thanks for the prompt, babe! I had fun with it!

Read on Ao3

Pairings: Merlin/Arthur, can be platonic or romantic you decide

Warnings: Uther’s a dick, other than that, not much

Word Count: 3138

Uther should’ve known what he was getting himself into. When he opened his hand and his heart, for perhaps the last time, and made that choice to weave magic into his family irrevocably. He should have known that there was a risk, a risk that he would not get exactly what it is he so desperately wanted. A risk that the perfect, golden heir he desired wouldn’t be his.

But then that golden crown of hair had emerged and Uther forgot. The babe was placed into his arms and he smiled down at the little thing, ignoring the drool seeping into his gloves, ignoring the way the baby whined and squirmed, because he had an heir.

“Arthur,” he had breathed, settling the babe back into the nurse’s arms, “Arthur.”

And he had swept down the corridor.

Ygraine had still lain on the bed, in pain. The nurses had widened their eyes in alarm when it started again.

Another babe emerged, whining in Ygraine’s arms, dark hair, and golden eyes.

Arthur, even as small and new to the world as he was, had reached out chubby arms toward the now weeping babe, trying to wrap his arms around the little one, try and hold him close. The dark-haired babe had nestled in Ygraine’s arms, not quite awake, not quite asleep, but glowing. Just enough to make Arthur sigh when the nurse holding him finally caved and brought him over to lay a fat-fingered hand on the other’s arm.

Ygraine cradled her babes to her chest and knew that Uther would only have the one.

“Send for Balinor,” she had said, “he’ll know what to do.”

Balinor did. The Dragonlord knew the price of asking for such a huge magical favor. The arrival of the second babe was the remainder of the magic, knowing it could not remain in Ygraine’s body.

“You must take him,” Ygraine had said, even as she clutched the dark-haired babe in her arms, “you must take him far away from Uther and farther away from here. He’s got your hair. People will believe. You’ve a wife, don’t you?”

Balinor had taken one look at his Queen, at the twins in her arms, at the magic the curled impossibly close around the two of them. He had warned her that already, the magical bond between the two of them was stronger than they could know, and he could not hope to break it without causing irreversible damage to the twins.

“I don’t want you to break it,” Ygraine had said, the stoic resolution of the Queen already coloring her tone again, “I want you to make them safe.”

Balinor could not refuse his Queen.

The dark-haired babe had whimpered as they gently separated the two of them, Arthur already calling out in dismay, as Balinor swaddled the babe in a proper cloth before cradling it snugly in his arms.

“You realize,” Balinor had murmured, “it is unlikely you will see me again.”

“You have been a faithful and true servant to the realm for as long as I can remember,” Ygraine had said, “even more so than I can tell. You will continue to do so, I know, even without me asking.”

Balinor had bowed his head low, and the Queen had breathed her last breath.

He had left Camelot at first light, the babe curled in his arms. His heart had not left his throat until he climbed off his horse into the arms of the woman he loved.

Hunith had taken the babe into her arms and called him her own.

Balinor had not been able to stay. They both knew this. He remained long enough for the magic of the child to make them both nothing more than weeping parents, together for only a moment longer, before Hunith was left alone, the babe in her arms, the magic swirling in delicate golden tendrils around them.

————————————————

Arthur lies in his bed, the servants awaiting his every move to offer him a drink, a toy, some food, anything he could need. And they’re supposed to know everything, right? That’s why they’re here, to know what he needs.

But he doesn’t want toys. The toys don’t feel right against his hands all the time, even though they’re of the most high-quality materials coin can by, even though they’re taken away to be dutifully scrubbed within an inch of their toy little plush lives every time Arthur so much as gets dust on them. His hands itch sometimes like they need to be touching something, but nothing ever feels right.

He wants something soft, something warm, something that tingles slightly under his palm. He wants something warm that curled around him, let him run his still clumsy fingers through its fur, or hair, something that could hold him back.

He asked for it a couple of times but the servants don’t know what he wants.

He’s not so sure he does either.

————————————————

Merlin lies in his bed, with his mother’s arms wrapped around him. He worries the edge of his blanket between his fingers, cupping it around his cheeks and rubbing it against his face. This is his favorite piece of fabric and he struggles to fall asleep when he doesn’t have it.

When he doesn’t have it, his mother’s arms feel strange when they hold his tightly. They feel too big, too large, too weathered for him, and he doesn’t know why. She smells wrong, too. She smells like home, yes, but she doesn’t smell like home. Merlin misses something, maybe he misses a lot, but he doesn’t miss how sometimes he’ll tuck his little head into the crook of his mother’s shoulder and his nose will wrinkle because the sweet smell of spice and oats and salt isn’t what he expected.

Maybe that’s why he wants that blanket so badly. His mother says he came wrapped in it, the last thing from his father before he had to go away. The blanket smells different. It smells sweet, yes, but a different kind of sweetness. It smells of some kind of fruit, something the tingles the end of Merlin’s nose, and something slightly spiced, too. Merlin clutches the blanket tighter. The smell’s going away, it’s getting fainter every night.

Merlin doesn’t know where to go to make it smell right again.

————————————————

Arthur runs about the castle, dodging the guards and tucking himself into one of the archways.

“Sire!” Ugh. “Sire, we’ve talked about this, you have to stop running away!”

“You have to stop chasing me,” Arthur mutters under his breath, scampering down the opposite hallway.

His face splits into a grin when he finally spots the window to the training grounds. Glancing around, he jumps through, landing and rolling, not caring about the dirt that sprays up around his boots.

The wind ruffles his hair and coaxes this way.

A joyful yell rips through the air as Arthur sprints the length of the field, not a knight in sight, just the blood pumping in his veins, into his cheeks, flushing his face as he smiles so hard he thinks it might split. He imagines a figure ahead of him, throwing playful insults over its shoulder, playfully pulling him further away from the castle, from the guards, goading him to keep up. He grins and pours on the speed. They won’t get away this time!

His arms and legs ache by the time he reaches the other end of the field. His lungs are on fire. He hunches over, panting, even as the air protests, scraping his throat. He imagines the other figure right next to him, panting through breathless laughter. Arthur imagines making one last swipe, finally snagging the other’s tunic and pulling them close, never letting go.

“I’ve caught you,” he would pant, “now you have to stay.”

Instead, all he gets are the yells from the guards.

————————————————

Merlin waves his hand and the leaves swirl up, dancing around him in the forest. Delighted giggles accompany the rustling as they drift slowly back and forth, caught up in an inescapable breeze. One of them smacks him lightly across the face and he stumbles backward, falling smack onto his rear in the massive pile he’s amassed. He almost sinks all the way to the ground.

He flails, sweeping leaf after leaf aside until he’s lying there, still giggling, almost making snow angels in the leaves. They crinkle under his collar and his head, little bits finding their way into his hair and clinging persistently. His magic chuckles, reaching out to stroke the pieces away.

Merlin’s giggles trail off as his magic works. He hasn’t figured out how to make this person real yet. The person who will always come play with him, who will jump and dance about like he wants to. He almost remembers them, almost, remembers a person who will pull him to his feet when he needs help, will fuss over him, and make sure he’s all clean and safe.

He still finds himself reaching for them sometimes, to help them up or for their hand to get himself to his feet. He thinks he sees them behind him sometimes, just out of the corner of his eye, a flash of gold. He thinks that if he were a little better at controlling his magic, maybe they’d be real.

“Come on, Merlin,” they’d say, still holding his hand, “let’s go explore this part of the woods! Don’t be scared, I’ll protect you!”

Instead, all he gets are leaves fluttering around him and the wink of golden magic.

————————————————

Princes aren’t supposed to get angry like this. Uther’s stony face glares at him even as Arthur tries to splutter his way through his rage, explain why it isn’t fair that he doesn’t get to train with Morgana anymore. Morgana is good, even though he’d never say that to her face, she’s good and she could be better and it’s not fair that his father is trying to take away the only decent sparring partner he’s had in ages.

But Uther is firm and slams a fist down onto the table, saying that his word is final and Morgana will not be allowed to train anymore.

Arthur doesn’t throw a tantrum, because princes don’t throw tantrums, but he does loudly explain that he thinks his father is wrong, and Morgana won’t be happy about this and then Uther will have to explain it to her, why he doesn’t think she should be allowed to train. Morgana will cry—because she knows Uther has a weakness for that—and then Arthur will have to watch Morgana cry and Arthur doesn’t want to see Morgana cry.

He wants to train with Morgana. He wants Morgana to be happy. He wants someone to be here to back him up.

He wants to just know that there’s something behind him, someone behind him, and always will be. Someone else in the big empty hall, where Uther’s every movement rings out like a thunderclap, where it’s not just him and the guards he knows won’t do anything to stop their king.

He wants to look behind him and catch the eye of someone who cares, someone who will stand by his side and behind him for as long as he needs. He wants to feel the tingle of another presence in the room, a silent witness to whatever happens that it happened, that Uther can’t just turn around and decide this didn’t happen, that it did, that Arthur is right, and that he has a right to be angry.

But Morgana isn’t here. There’s no one else here.

So Arthur raises his chin and faces his father alone.

————————————————

Merlin hates that he cries when he’s angry.

It’s the worst. The fat horrible tears that bubble up in his eyes and roll down his cheeks are just making it worse, the jeers and cackles from the other boys making them come faster and faster. He balls his fists until his nails bite into his palms and he tries to steady his voice as much as possible, say give it back, that’s mine, you can’t have it.

The big boys just laugh and smash the pumpkin into the ground, shattering it completely. They stomp on it a few times for good measure before stalking off, their noses in the air, their cackles still raging in Merlin’s ears.

He hates them. He falls to his knees and tries to cobble the pumpkin back together but it’s too late. It’s destroyed. It’s gone. He won’t get his pumpkin back.

He wanted to give it to Will. Will, who was too tired to come to the patch this morning. Will, who asked for a pumpkin that they could carve together, because that’s their tradition, they do it every year, and eat the roasted seeds that Merlin’s mother makes as she laughs at their pulp covered clothes.

But now it’s gone.

Merlin glares through watery eyes at the retreating backs of the boys. Oh, how he wants someone here with him, someone who would take one look t his tears and storm after them, knock their heads together, who doesn’t cry when he gets upset.

He wants someone who could stand when Merlin can’t, who could scold the other boys into submission and give them all a good fight if they didn’t get the hint. He wants someone who could come back, panting but still unbruised, and gently help Merlin up, maybe to go find a new pumpkin. He wants someone to be here to tell him it’s alright.

But Will isn’t here. There’s no one else here.

So Merlin gathers up the broken pieces of pumpkin alone.

————————————————

Arthur huddles in his bed, clutching a pillow to his chest, all his curtains drawn, the covers pulled all the way up.

He doesn’t like it when these lords come to visit. They scare him. He’s not supposed to be scared by them but he is.

He doesn’t like the way they look at everything. Like they don’t care about the people that work so hard just to survive. Like Uther is just some pawn in their own games, like Arthur isn’t worth more than a cursory evolution.

He doesn’t like how they change his father. How Uther grows colder, if that’s even possible, how he smiles and it looks like he has too many teeth. How he looks at Arthur like Arthur’s some sort of dog that needs to perform all its tricks to be rewarded with a brisk pat at the end of the night.

So he fakes a cough and gets Gaius to bring him a sleeping potion and curls up, safe in the warmth of his chambers, where no one will come in.

Arthur tightens his grip on the pillow, curling in on himself until he hates the way his legs rub together and sweat makes his skin grow slick. He hates this. He hates this.

He wants the person that went away to come back.

He knows now that there was someone. The older servants, the older nurses, they always exchange a glance whenever they talk about his mother, his birthday. He asked one of them once, if he had a sibling, and they gave him an answer.

It wasn’t a ‘yes,’ but it may as well have been.

He wants them to come back.

He wants someone in this bed with him, curling up to, muring assurances to two frightened boys that they’re both gonna be okay. He wants someone he can protect, to curl himself around and reassure himself that they won’t touch this one, they can’t destroy everything, there’s still something that can be saved.

A low whimper escapes unbidden and Arthur curls even tighter. In the dark, the strands of thread from the pillow almost feel like hair. Dark hair, nestled under his chin, curling into his embrace. He pictures sharp features, skinny arms, and another source of warmth in this too-big bed, too empty room.

He doesn’t want to be alone anymore.

————————————————

Merlin clutches the blanket that he’s far too old for to his face, curling into the wall of the barn, hidden behind the large stacks of hay.

His magic flits anxiously around him and he swats it away, burying his face into the worn fabric. The smell is gone. The wonderful smell that coaxed him to sleep is no more and he can’t get it back. It’s gone. It’s gone. It’s never coming back and he’s lost it, he’s lost it forever and he’s alone now, he’s alone and he never wants to be alone like this, with just too much magic thrumming in his veins.

It’s not happy either, bustling about, whipping up stray pieces of hay this way and that as Merlin frets, rubbing the fabric back off forth over his lips, his hands unable to stop. His magic wants something to do, something to stop, itching to find whatever’s making Merlin so upset and make it go away. But it can’t, because it’s not the presence of something that’s making Merlin so upset, it’s the absence.

Merlin wants whoever left to find him again.

He asked his mother and she said he came from somewhere else. Is he looking for his father? Is that who left? Or was it someone else?

He wants the other small person back. He remembers his magic aching for them, humming contentedly when they were both together, twirling around and around the pair of them as they lay intertwined. He wants them back, wants them here, wants their scent to settle comfortingly around the both of them until they both fall asleep in each other’s arms.

His magic frets, trying to whisk up something to fix, something to help, but all it manages to do is shine brightly, golden, and form some kind of big blanket, stretching wide over Merlin’s curled-up form, but settling too lightly, always too lightly, never warm enough, never solid enough.

He wants to be found again.

He doesn’t belong here. His mother tries, Will tries, they all try, but it’s not enough. Merlin knows right down to his bones, to his magic, that he doesn’t fit here. This isn’t his home.

He wants whoever was his home to come to find him again.

He doesn’t want to be alone anymore.

————————————————

“Do I know you?”

“I’m Merlin.”

“So I don’t know you.”

You will, laughs a golden voice on the wind, you already do.

#dragonbabbles #merlin #bbc merlin #merthur #fic #merthur fic #arthur pendragon

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tired-college-student-writing · 4 years

Text

From the Ashes

Summary: It wasn't supposed to end like this. Merlin was supposed to protect Arthur until he united all of Albion, not be burned at the stake by his sadistic father. He was supposed to serve him until the day both men died. How did it end up like this?

___________________________________________

The twisted look on his father’s face just made his stomach swoop.

Arthur was no stranger to executions of magic users. They were almost routine now, and he couldn’t remember a time more than two months passed in between a pyre being lit. As he grew older he felt more numb watching the events than anything else, even if before and after his heart clenched in sorrow.

This time, however, numbness refused to take him. How could it when Merlin was being led to the stake?

The goofy moronic servant had gotten close to Arthur over the last four years, always standing by him, always lending an ear when he needed it, never afraid to offer up a quip or insult when the royal needed to be brought back to reality. It wasn’t always a welcomed truth but Arthur found he grew fond of the unhesitant words of rebuttal and clumsy actions of the other man.

He may not always be the nicest to Merlin, berating him and throwing things at him when he’s mad but he never wanted him dead. Let alone burned.

But Merlin had magic, it was undeniable the way his eyes had lit up a blazing soul-piercing gold as the assassin was pulled from the rafters after nearly taking Arthur’s head off.

Anyone with eyes could see that he had only been protecting his prince, but as the gold faded Arthur could see his servant pale and begin to shake as he realized what he had just done, trying to sputter out apologies even as Uther yelled for the guards to seize Merlin.

There was no exception to the ban on Magic after all, not even for saving the crowned prince.

He was let frozen as Merlin begged not to be taken, vows that he only ever used his magic to help Camelot, to help Arthur, how he had been born with the spark, using magic before he could even speak, how he had no choice in the art, begging for Arthur to understand, to not hate him.

He struggled to remain in the throne room, to beg at Arthur’s feet, but he didn’t attempt to escape from the guards hold, didn’t attempt to flee.

He didn’t want to be saved, Arthur realized later, as he threw up near the stables. The only thing Merlin had wanted was for Arthur not to hate him.

Arthur couldn’t even give him that much as the guards caught him trying to sneak down to the cells that night. His father had been worried he had been enchanted, and now that Arthur had done what his father would only expect from an enchanted prince. He had been confined to his rooms until the execution.

He heard from a haunted-looking Leon who was ordered to stand guard on the Prince that Gwaine had been arrested for attempting to break Merlin out of the cells along with Lancelot. Eylan and Percival visited Arthur, uncertainty weaving through their words and movements.

Magic was hated by them all for its corrupting quality, they had seen how Morgona had been twisted so easily, but Merlin was… Merlin. He was The Round Table’s younger brother, a kind and loving friend to all. They protected him with a ferocity that only was matched in the intensity that they teased him with. He, in turn, treated the knights as equals, caring for them passed what was appropriate for a servant to do, but he just rolled his eyes at them with a sarcastic “Of course, sir knight,” before returning to his normal behavior.

But they had seen the good in Magic, hadn’t they? The light that had guided Arthur when Merlin was poisoned, Merlin’s friend Will saving them all from the invaders, and recently Dragoon the Great had healed Uther, pulling him back from the brink of death, though he had almost killed him before finding the charm placed on him that changed healing energy into harm. Arthur had been relieved each time, even when Uther had screamed for the guards the moment he opened his eyes.

Gaius also visited, grief and sorrow making the old physician look frail. Arthur accepted his gruff words about not knowing his ward had been practicing magic under his nose, even though he knew from the way his eyes teared up and his hands shook that he was lying. He was already losing his best friend, he wasn’t risking losing Gaius as well.

Now here he stood on the balcony overlooking the courtyard next to his father, he wished he had tried harder to get to Merlin. He was the only member of the Round Table here, the only one to see the hollow look on Merlin’s face. He was moving stiffly as if a puppet being pulled along against its will. Even from where he stood Arthur could see the dried tear tracks on his face and the red around his eyes.

He felt like he couldn’t breathe as his father’s speech bounced around the silent crowd, not hearing a word of it as the fire was lit. He wanted to yell at Merlin to fight, to use his magic to break free and run, but his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth. His father had warned him harshly as he pulled him to the balcony that if he tried calling out to Merlin, to encourage him to escape, that Uther would have the man tortured before being burned. Arthur refused to cause his friend any more pain.

Merlin didn’t move as the fire licked higher, didn’t even cough as the smoke overtook his form. Arthur could tell that he was burning, his best friend was burning, but he was as lifeless as a doll, but Arthur knew he wasn’t dead yet. It took at least an hour before the fire would die down and Uther would allow for the guards to put out the fire, certain the sorcerer was dead. At thirty minutes the cries were usually the loudest, but still nothing from Merlin.

There was sudden movement as they neared the hour mark, and through the haze, Arthur had let himself fall into he saw his father’s eyes narrow.

A crack sounded from the pyre and the crowd gasped as lightning struck the center of the fire. The intensity of the blast jarred Arthur to the very bone as the castle shook around him, knocking him to his knees. By the time he scrambled to his feet the fire had been extinguished, faster than should be possible by ordinary means.

In the center of the smoldering remains was Merlin, clothes singed badly and ash covering his skin but he was there and seemed unharmed, and he didn't quite fight back relieved laughter. Suddenly Merlin’s face snaps up to him and his father, revealing the blazing golden eyes that were burned into his memory. The sorcerer's face was unnaturally blank as Uther barked to the guards to seize him.

They didn’t get the option as Merlin lifted into the air without a word, floating elegantly to land on the railing of the balcony, looming over the Pendragons with an unrivaled authority Arthur never would have paired with Merlin but seemed so natural.

“What sort of trick is this, Sorcerer?” Uther barked, fury rolling off of him in waves.

“Oh Uther,” Merlin sighed, words echoing unnaturally through the courtyard, “You truly don’t see how ignorant you’ve become of Magic, and how hypocritical.”

“Merlin was no Sorcerer,” Merlin told them, “He was a Warlock. you know the difference, Uther, but for your son’s benefit, I will explain. Warlocks are blessed with their gifts from birth and they develop somewhere between their early teens and twenty years old as Morgana did, but Merlin was special, he’s been using magic since the moment he drew his first breath. No, that it mattered, you had him burned for something he couldn’t control any more then you could decide what color your hair is. ”

Arthur felt his heart squeeze, “Why are you referring to yourself like that Merlin?”

The golden gaze turned to him, and almost seemed to soften as it spoke the words that sent ice through his veins, “I’m sorry Arthur, but Merlin is dead.”

Uther raised a brow, “Who are you then?”

“I am a being of legend,” Mer-The thing wearing Merlin’s skin explained, “Magic coursed through Merlin since the moment he was conceived, been at his disposal since he drew his first breath, using magic for him was instinctual as breathing and blinking is for you. His destiny laid out a path that magic had carved for him, he was to be the most powerful magic user that ever was. I was his magic, the connection he shared with the Old Religion that would allow him to protect the Once and Future King. I was meant to just be an aspect of him, but now that he’s gone Magic refuses to let the Once and Future King remain unprotected before his destiny can be fulfilled. So I have been awoken, and will remain at Arthur’s side until the day comes that he no longer needs a protector, or until Magic can convince Merlin to return from Avalon.”

“I’ll have you put to death if you get near my son,”

The being let out an ungodly laugh that sent fear down the spines of those gathered.

“Poor Poor Uther,” It cried, edging on pity, “You never learned your lesson. You can kill as many magic users as you wish, you can hunt them for sport, but you can’t rid the world of Magic, and you can’t avenge your wife because it’s not Magic’s fault that you did not heed the warnings.”

Arthur sucked in a startled breath, eyes flying to his father, “Morgause spoke the truth. You used magic so that I could be born, even though you were warned that someone must die.”

“Yes,” The being confirmed, “Your father ignored the warnings about how balance must be kept, he believed that the one that died would be a peasant or knight, someone with whose life he saw as forfeit compared to a prince’s. Only when it was Ygraine did he realize the true nature of what he asked, and chose to blame Magic and Nimih instead of his own choices. The only thing the vision lied to you about is that your Mother would never have blamed Uther for her death, nor would she have wanted for you to slay him in vengeance.”

“Why lie?” Arthur whispered, fists clenching, “Why not tell me the truth?”

“Because Merlin did not want to see you hurt in such a way,” The being explained, “He cared for you enough that he would allow your hatred of magic to remain so that you would not slay your own father in cold blood. It’s why Merlin broke the enchantment between your father and the troll, why he had Excalibur made, why he took the form of Dragoon and healed your father. It is also the reason I will not lay him to rest myself, even should you request it. Even so, he can not harm nor kill me.”

“Don’t be so cocky,” Uther seethed.

“Against you, Uther?” The being said, face blank as a slate, but full of promises, “It’s not being cocky, it’s stating fact.”

The being stepped down to the balcony and walked through the door behind them, not even flinching as Uther pulled his sword and tried to stab it through the being. The sword didn’t even make it close to it as a golden shield appeared and shattered the steel blade like it was an icicle.

Arthur took off after ignoring the calls from his father. He caught up to it after it had run into Percival outside Arthur’s chambers. The bear of a man was trembling, white as a sheet, staring at the golden-eyed being with fear that seemed more befitting a young maiden. Arthur would have found it comical if it had been any other circumstance, but right now he just felt empathy.

“Merlin…” The man spoke, “You’ve…”

“Merlin is dead,” Arthur spoke up before the being could, “This isn’t Merlin.”

The knight stared at him as if he had grown three heads, “But sire, it’s clearly-”

“Gather the Table, Sir Percival,” Arthur ordered, voice low and harsh, “I- We’ll explain once we have everyone. Break Lancelot and Gwaine out of jail if you have to, just get everyone here as soon as you can.”

The knight sprinted off with speed uncharacteristic of the large knight.

“What should I call you?” Arthur asked once the door shut behind him, “If you’re not Merlin if you’re simply his magic or whatever else you are…”

The being gazed at him in confusion, his eternal golden eyes, “I suppose Emrys is the best name for me. It was the name the druids created for the protector of the Once and Future King.”

“Alright, Emrys then. You’ll need to explain more about that Once and Future King business once the others arrive.”

“Of course, Sire.”

Arthur felt odd stripping from his court clothing with the be- Emrys simply stood like a statue by the bed, seeming to not even breathe, but he had a feeling that this was going to be a long talk.

The door crashed open unexpectedly before Arthur could finish changing, a sober and pissed off looking Gwaine, followed closely by the other knights, Percival hanging back, eyes vacant with fear. Gwen and Gaius were hanging near the back, tear streaks still evident on their faces.

Gwaine let out a sob as he saw Emrys standing there, crossing the room instantly to pull the being into a tight hug, “Thank the gods! How did you manage to escape?”

“I am not Merlin,”

Gwaine pulled back and stared at the being in confusion, “What do you-”

“Gwaine,” Arthur said as he pulled on his shirt, “We all need to sit down while Emrys and I explain… explain what happened at Merlin’s execution.”

Leon let out a slight gasp looking to the being for the first time since he entered the room, and Gauis looked like he might be sick, but no one could muster up a word as they tensely circled the room.

Arthur turned to the still statue-like Emrys, “Tell them everything you told my father and I at the execution site.”

The being didn’t move even as Gwaine pulled back uncertainty, didn’t even seem to acknowledge the others in the room as they slowly formed a circle around the room, but after being prompted he quickly started to recount the events of the morning. Arthur wasn’t sure listening to the emotionless factual retelling was better or worse than the real events. Everything was so... detached from Emrys as if the being could care less about Merlin's death outside of what it meant for it existing. A completely blank expression and a dull monotone didn't fit Merlin's face and voice, least of all when telling them about how the licking flames and suffocating smoke had driven the very essence of the man they all called a friend from his body, leaving a corpse behind before magic decided to create its own consciousness to stand-in.

“So Emrys,” Gwaine pushed, anger boiling just below the surface, “Why don’t you tell us everything Merlin did for Camelot? All the things that he did for Arthur that the princess couldn’t even be bothered to save him for?”

“Oh really?” Arthur snapped, “You want to say I did nothing? I argued and fought with my father but he was convinced the only reason I would still care for a magic user is that he enchanted me and reassured me that once Arthur was dead I would see reason. Then I couldn’t even speak up at the execution because my father warned me that if I even spoke a single word before the hour was up that he would burn all of Merlin’s friends. After all, clearly, one of them was also a magic-user and keeping the enchantment up! I was already losing my best friend, I didn’t want to lose any of you as well!”

“Stop this now,” Gauis cried, looking worn and tired, “None of this fighting is going to bring back Merlin, we’ve all failed him!”

The knights fell silent, frustration and sorrow oozing from all as they gazed around the room at each other, daring someone to speak.

“Odd,” Emrys said after a long moment, head cocking slightly to the side, the first real movement he made since entering the room.

“What?” Arthur snapped, glaring at the golden eyes that should be blue. Emrys simply looked between the knights before gazing back at Arthur.

“You really do care for him," Emrys stated with the barest hint of wonderment in his voice that caused Arthur's heart to wither, "even though Merlin left this plane believing that you despised him. Even Magic didn’t account for all of the knights siding with Merlin when Uther was still alive. Gaius, Lancelot, and Gwen were always going to stand by him but the rest of you...You all are very odd.”

#merlin (tv)#arthur pendragon #prince arthur #uther pendragon #gaius #lancelot #character death tw #burned at the stake #gwaine #sir percival #sir eylan #emrys

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sunflowers-and-snowdrops · 4 years

Note

ramble about your favourite fic?

oh! that’s a wild ride i have so many. im reading like 2 long form fics atm, 1 is currently being updates and one is already finished. they are so well written and just wow!! but if i have to say my ultimate favourite fic at the moment then it would be The Serving Of Servants by CaffeinatedFlumadiddle on AO3 and its sequel which is just INCREDIBLY GOOD. like??? ahhhh!!! the writing is great, the description is amazing, the characterization is done so well and the OCs are awesome characters, and ITS A SLOW BURN. The plot is super interesting and its brilliant. so if i had to choose then that would be my current absolute favourite fic. (Okay so this is a really long post so... well this a warning i guess)

There’s a bunch of other ones that are great so i’ll talk about those as well. did i mention CaffeinatedFlumadiddle??? their fics are just SO GOOD. like??? Salt of the Forsaken?? that was hilarious!! Exceptionally Exceptional??? that was a brilliant fic and i love that they focused on hunith because we didnt really see her that much on the show and this fic just makes up for that perfectly. Hunting For Dignity?? Cheers and Spirits??? YES. OH i cant forget Fool Me Once which is actually a really cool concept to explore imo. basically Uther isn’t a huge asshole in this one?? i mean he still kinda is but like its just chaotic and the relationship between uther and merlin is kinda odd because he keeps trying to find out ways to kill him and merlin is just done because he cant die and is immortal. i guess they sort of bond over that and wanting to keep arthur safe and like its a strange relationship but im living for it.

Usually uther is awful in practically all the fics ive read but there are some which sort of like make him kinda good?? like?? i mean hes still an asshole just less of it. like in About Merlin... (by LadyAuroraPendragon on AO3) Uther is still an asshole and hes against magic but like??? he ships them??? ahahhaha and everyone does too. its such a great fic. we got a wingman uther in there. A WINGMAN UTHER. uthers all like “why are so bad at flirting/courting? just tell him that you love him already JEEZ” and the funniest thing is that he thinks they’re together because of that scene in the black knight episode where merlin says that they have a bond and then he assumes that they are together and LITERALLY nothing can convince him that they are not together and its great lmao.

Okay so ive been rambling for a veryyyy long time so I’ll just say two last things and finish off ahahha. On AO3 there’s another fic writer that I absolutely ADORE. their name is AeonTheDimensionalGirl and my goddd their fics are BEAUTFUL. LIKE??? THE WAY THEY USE THE WORD CARIAD?? OH MY GOD ITS JUST PERFECT. Their whumptober series is excellent and they use the word “cariad” which means love in welsh and its just SO amazing and heartfelt and ahhhhh. Some of my favourites include Watch you breathe in, watch you breathe out which is a fic based on the ep “servant of two masters” and how it would have switched, like instead of merlin being possessed or bewitched by the nathair, it was arthur who was trying to kill him and its just so good. super angsty but it has a happy ending that makes my heart melt.

The fic?? Off the record??? is just??? PERFECT? i absolutely love that it was from Leon’s pov that was a really interesting way of viewing it and i LOVED the hc that arthur sorta has some kind of magic (bc he was born out of magic) but it ONLY appears when merlin is fatally injured/dying and hsajdbjsbhudhbedb i thought it was great omg. Another fic written by them called Looking After You had such a good enemies to friends to lovers arc like *chefs kiss*. I also really enjoyed To Worship the Powerful (and destroy the weak), Uther’s Bane, and Et Tu, Merlin? because they were such good whumptober fics.

did i say two last things??? okay i lied, it was three. anyways, last but not least (because i gotta stop rambling or this post will extremely long) the fics Chains Of Secrets and I suppose that I look different (without the robes or crown) are some of favourites because in chains of secrets its what would have happened if uther said that merlin had magic (if he wasnt cut off or IF ARTHUR ACTUALLY HEARD WHAT HE SAID AND DEDUCED IT FROM THAT) anyways i think its a great magic reveal fic, set in one of my favourite episodes “the death song of uther pendragon” so i think its just neat.

hilariously, the fic I suppose that I look different (without the robes or crown) is also based on that episode. i have a fondness for it okay? Its basically where Arthur blows the horn of cathbdhah again but gets transported to another world where Ygraine never died and ITS JUST SO BEAUTIFUL. LIKE THE DESCRIPTIONS??? THE CHARACTERS?? its amazing and i reread it alot. anyways arthur goes into that world and he has to find a way back to his own. in the fic balinor lives, lancelot and gwen had a KID. oh and merlin was a ROYAL which was just awesome. all in all its a great fic :D

So that is the end, or i will literally go on forever. sorry this is such a long answer ahaha, i really tried to make it shorter but just gave up in the end. I hope you enjoyed that?? i did and i thank you anon, for letting me ramble! If anyone wants to read the fics ive mentioned, then you can find the links below! enjoy :D

The Serving Of Servants by CaffeinatedFlumadiddle

Salt Of The Forsaken by CaffeinatedFlumadiddle

Exceptionally Exceptional by CaffeinatedFlumadiddle

Hunting For Dignity by CaffeinatedFlumadiddle

Cheers and Spirits by CaffeinatedFlumadiddle

Fool Me Once by CaffeinatedFlumadiddle

About Merlin... by LadyAuroraPendragon

Watch You Breathe In, Watch You Breathe Out by AeonTheDimensionalGirl

Off the Record by AeonTheDimensionalGirl

Looking After You by AeonTheDimensionalGirl

To Worship the Powerful (And Destroy the Weak) by AeonTheDimensionalGirl

Uther’s Bane by AeonTheDimensionalGirl

Et Tu, Merlin? by AeonTheDimensionalGirl

Merlin’s Knight by AeonTheDimensionalGirl

Chains Of Secrets by magicdoses

I suppose that I look different (without the robes or crown) by WingedWolf121

For Want Of A Nail by ohHeyThereBigBadWolf

(I didn’t manage to talk about For Want Of A Nail or Merlin’s Knight but i think that they are both amazingly well written fics so im recommending it anyways.)

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emrysarthurpendragon · 4 years

Text

They look so pretty when they bleed

Years had passed since Gaius and Merlin’s trip to the Isle of the Blessed. While Merlin forgot everything with the spell he cast once more, Gaius remembered everything about his previous life and started writing everything down with the help of his dear Alice. For a few years at least … before Hunith 15th birthday, Alice shown worrying symptoms and they found she had a stage 4 cancer, with no cure at the moment. Magic could have healed her, but the gift was still banned and Merlin’s memories locked. She died less than six months later and left her broken family behind. Just like when she died in Camelot times, except they were able to say goodbye this time. The next year, Hunith met her first boyfriend – and last – Balinor Dragon. He was a lord from an ancient family, someone important, with money and titles while they were ordinary people. When she invited him for the first time, Merlin loved the boy immediately. Just like when he held his granddaughter after she was born, something connected and he decided he loved the young man. Gaius felt the same way, he found out as they talked together later. They were proven right when, during their second year in College, both Balinor and Hunith came during a week-end and asked for their blessing. They wanted to get married and if the Lord’s family seemed fine with the idea, they still insisted on a certain code: including asking the maid’s parents. When they said ‘yes’, Merlin felt his heart beat faster. He knew something was coming. He felt like his memories wanted – more than ever – to come back and claim him. Unknowingly to the now 78-year-old, Excalibur started calling for him.

You are running out of time, Emrys…

Merlin shook his head. He needed to focus. Hunith was waiting for him, in her beautiful white dress. Today was the big day and he, Merlin, had been chosen to take her arm. The beautiful woman, proud owner of a linguistic degree, inhaled deeply.

“I’m so nervous, grandpa… I know I’m doing the right thing but … but I feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life and even more. Am I crazy?” she worried. “Am I a Bridezilla?”

Merlin laughed, taking her white hands in his wrinkled ones.

“When I married Freya, I felt the same way. I almost collapsed before she walked down the aisle. Still, I knew I belonged to her,” he explained. “Find your courage in his eyes. You’re sharing the same heart, the same love. He’s probably panicking too and having the same discussion with his parents. Breathe in and out, ok? In and out.”

Freya mimicked him and finally calmed.

“Ready?”

“Yes. Yes, I am.”

Merlin smiled and led her outside her room. They went down the staircase, where the car waited for them. As cliché as it was, the Lords had their own church where they both knew people were sitting patiently inside the old religious place. It looked different though, as if it belonged to another cult than the monotheist ones all over the world. Everything felt familiar and stunning.

A simple wave from Merlin and they heard the music. Hunith tightened her grip on her grandfather, their steps matching and she noticed, once she felt brave enough to look up, the way Balinor looked at her. Adoration. Love. Promises. In her bedridden eyes she felt like an angel. Together, they can fight the world and even more.

The ceremony went smoothly and another couple of years passed. Three to be precise. Merlin felt tired and headed to bed early. Him and Gaius were the only ones left in the big house, but tonight, his son was away. He received a call for an emergency. A woman, Miss Pendragon, had been in labour for twelve long hours now and her child started showing signs endangering its life. Pendragon … the same seemed familiar. Was she related to Uther Pendragon? He remembered seeing that name in the news, after his divorce. The man cheated on his wife, Ygraine, and when she found out, she asked for both their house in the countryside and enough money to raise their … child. Oh! She definitely was the one in labour now!

“I guess I’ll have to wait for the gossips, then…” Merlin sighed, his eyes falling shut and he landed in the dreamland. Most of the time, his nightly adventures were simple. About things he did or said during the day … but not now. No. He stood in a clearing and, facing him, where a man covered in blood and a sword in the stone. Excalibur, he knew it.

“Merlin, please, help me…” the man whispered. Arthur. His name was Arthur and … and he loved him. So much that it almost killed him the first time. He wanted to hold him, crush him in a hug … but he died. Because of him. Because he failed. “Stop it now. You did your best and now, you can save me.”

“How?” Merlin whispered. He couldn’t question his king, even if everything was just a dream, he felt like that man belong to him. They were…

The two faces of a same coin … whispered the same voice he heard before.

“Free my sword. Unlock magic, so I shall be born again,” he begged. “Look at you. You’re fading too!”

Merlin lowered his gaze and realised he had been bleeding too. There were no wounds. The blood just sweated from his skin in huge quantity. He vaguely remembered the same thing happening a long time ago, before he loses – or erased – his memories. He almost died because a dangerous item prevented him from doing something as natural as breathing to him. The knowledge was there, waiting, but he couldn’t find the key.

“Excalibur is the key, Merlin. Come. Claim it.”

In the clearing, Merlin started moving. Something was pulling him, a siren’s lament. In the house, the elderly figure left his bed and found his way down the stair. The same trail of blood followed him into the darkest part of the manor. The wound he created when he banned magic for the second time was now pouring outside his body. Once, manacles with magic repealing runes almost killed him … he was now enduring the same thing, but because of his own doing. The Child of Magic banned what he was made of, it was time to pay. To keep the Goddess on their side, she demanded a sacrifice but now, Merlin felt like paying it. The closer he got to the sword – dreamlike or not – the more he regained his memories in a chronological order. His hand closed around the cold hilt. This is it. He was about to free magic. He was about to allow Arthur back to these lands, because the world now needed him the most. Or will do, in the near future. Only one thought kept circling his mind. Arthur won’t be dead anymore.

“I hope we will live in a time where I can claim loving you, in the open. To the world.” He had said before he left. If things were far from perfect, mentality were changing for the best. Just like they wished. Another good reason to open that box. What if they were allowed to enjoy a new life while bringing back what was lost because of his fears?

The sword opposed no resistance, magic started pushing violently on the burning metal. Golden light started filling the clearing and the forgotten room. The weapon left his hand, levitating in the room for a moment, pointed to his heart. The sacrifice needed to bring back Arthur.

“Of course…” he whispered. The sword pierced through him but went right to his magic. Like a bomb, the source of his power exploded. His old body felt to the ground. Excalibur vanished for now, to where it will wait for its time.

Simultaneously, while Magic left Merlin’s mortal body, two babies inhaled air. They screamed in two different chambers in the same hospital. Arthur Pendragon and Merlin Dragon were reborn together with no knowledge of their future. For now.

#whumptober2020 #no.10 #blood trail #internal bleeding #blood loss #merlinbbc #fic #blood tw #death tw

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camelotsheart · 3 years

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Ok not to be emo but sometimes I think about the relationships in Merlin and wanna cry like there’s so much love but also pain? Gwen had a crush on Merlin that didn’t go anywhere and Arwen is Cute with a capital T but Gwen’s first choice is Lancelot and that was so so cute and then so so tragic, Merlin and Freya’s thing was tragic, Merlin and Arthur Tragic with a capital T, all of Arthur’s closet people betraying him and him probably not even letting himself be conscious about how much he loves Merlin until the very end, Lancelot dying, SO MANY PEOPLE DYING and all these relationships like ships passing in the night because the timing is WRONG or someone DIES or it’s too late to realize it and yet throughout all this they all have loved each other so much? Like Gwen loves and loves and LOVES and it all goes so wrong and Gwaine and Lancelot love Merlin and he loves them and the knights want to protect Arthur and Arthur loves his men and in the end everything just goes so horribly wrong!!!! ITS ALL DONE WITH DEEP FEELING AND LOVE IN THEIR HEARTS AND YET IT ALL GOES WRONG!!

Hello Anon, you made me cry at 1 am. I hope you’re happy.

The thing that breaks me is that all of the tragedy that happens in the show happens primarily because of love, especially considering the fact that the genocide is initiated because of Uther’s grief for Ygraine’s death. It’s as if destiny was trying to fix a problem caused by love by bringing people who would love each other together. Lancelot died and saved the world because he loved Merlin, Gwen and Arthur. Will died protecting the once and future king because he loved his best friend. Freya’s love for Merlin made her the Lady of the Lake. Arthur dies right after his greatest victory in Camlann -- where he fights for the love of Camelot, Albion, and the future he believed where kingdoms could be united -- so his story could reach the four corners of Albion and unite a divided land under admiration of his rule. Gwen and Arthur’s love gave Albion a Queen that could lead it into the golden age that Arthur started. Love (for his king and his people) was the reason the greatest sorcerer to ever walk the earth kept on fighting for a destiny that both gave and took everything from him (and made him stay and protect the world in the absence of his king while waiting for his return). I’m not going to go into Elyan and Gwaine’s death because I stand by my view that they were absolutely unnecessary.

Destiny could only be fulfilled because of the love that the characters had for each other. Whether that love ended up as a tragedy was of no consequence, because there is no right or wrong in destiny. Only what is, and what isn’t.

#merlin meta #bbc merlin #i am crying #i am not okay #asks #Anonymous

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jenniferrpovey · 5 years

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More The Lay of Lady Percival stuff

As “Look inside” doesn’t work on pre orders, I figured I’d tempt you guys with an excerpt!

The ancient hill fort loomed, torn by the wind that came off the sea. From its ramparts one could almost see Gaul, the narrowest part of the sea splashing, beneath it, against cliffs as white as snow. Tucked below, not far from the port, the villa seemed cozy in comparison, hints of flickering light coming from the windows.

The young woman had walked some distance from the villa. The ships she watched were all leaving the harbor. Galleys, and even from where she was, she heard the drums. Beat, stroke. Beat, stroke. She imagined the slaves, large men, bare torsos sweating in the summer heat as they bent to the oars.

On the decks, the soldiers milled a little, finding places offering a modicum of comfort. Was her soldier amongst them, the last of the Legionnaires to depart Britain's shores? Rome could simply no longer afford to garrison these far reaches.

The Empire had not fallen with a resounding thud, but slowly, withering away like an unpicked grape. Persy watched. Was he with them?

He had been an officer, a leader of men, but would he stay for her? She felt her heart lift towards her throat. If he stayed, they would wed. Even in these uncertain times, with the Saxons on every shore and the Norsemen a-viking in the north, marriage meant something.

The fact that her soldier was of those northern bloodlines meant nothing. If he stayed, then she would know he had chosen...

"Are you Briton, Norseman, or Roman?" Her own words from the last time they had spoken echoed in her head.

"Did I not agree to a handfasting in the old style?" Even the recollection of his voice was enough to cause a stirring within her.

It had been properly done, quietly, by a woman who still remembered such things, who had not fallen entirely into the Roman style of worship. Dangerous, these days, with the Christ-cult now the only religion it was legal to practice.

Persephone lowered her hands to her belly. It was still flat. She had not told him, wanting him to stay for her, not out of obligation to a child. True, by the old ways, he should wed her, fertility having been proven.

She simply did not want to hold him, to trap him.

So young, he was, for the position he had held. Too young to retire, but under normal circumstances, he would have wed her and stayed. Many did, legionnaires and auxiliaries sent to serve in other parts of the Empire, where it was felt they would be less likely to desert.

Persephone had a childhood friend who's skin was as dark as wood, her father having come from some place far to the south. From Nubia, south of Egypt.

With what seemed like the strokes of a thousand oars, the ships streamed south. A tear rolled down her cheek. He must have gone with them. He knew where she waited. He would have come by now.

Slowly, she turned, and walked away, but not to the villa. There had been a grove, once, past the fort. That was where her steps led her. The Christers had not yet claimed the site, as they had so many others, for their temples.

They were almost like a plague, she thought. Some were good men and women, but some...

Some did nothing but try to convert everyone in sight. They had, no doubt, rejoiced in Constantine's conversion. And it seemed that they were always miserable.

Persy would not follow their path, which would condemn her child as a bastard.

"Gwydion, Gwydion, slow down!"

The toddler stopped, but punctuated it with, "No."

She had chosen a British name for her son. Perhaps it was because they had to be British now, not Roman. Perhaps because she did not want to remember the other half of his heritage.

There was much of Arthur about his features, although he had his mother's dark hair, sure to be black before he matured. She quickened her pace, caught him up in her arms. "Do you want to see the warlord or not?"

He squirmed, but briefly. The warlord. The man the tribes had chosen to lead their united warband. Dux Bellum, the Romans would have said.

His name flowed through her mind and almost reached her lips. Arthur. It could not be her Arthur, yet...the name was the same. How rare a name was it? Rare in Britain, yes, but not in the lands of the Norse and the Dane and the Saxon. Thor was one of their gods.

He had been named after a god, just as she was. Yet, had he stayed, he would have come to her on that clifftop. Had he stayed, she would be at his side now, and Gwydion riding on his shoulders.

For a moment that vision was clearer than the reality. The one servant she had brought helped her clear a way through the crowds.

He would be acknowledged outside the Cathedral, a nod to the Christians. That was not how it should be. They should be in the great royal circle of Avesbury, not that teeming city, diminished yet still vibrant.

Gods. Persy hated Londinium.

Yes, there they were on the steps, the most important of the royals of Britain, gathered. She should be with them, her blood was as good. Something about her urgency was picked up by the crowd, who parted, leaving a clear route to the center of it all.

Gorlois of Lyonesse, his wife Ygraine and daughter Morgan. Lot of Orkney, with his wife, Gorlois' sister Morgawse...once considered the most beautiful woman in the land. Their two sons...Gawain and Galahad, the latter barely fourteen. And Leodegranz of Wales with his daughter, the fair Guinevere.

She knew she should not, but nonetheless she let her track drift to the edge of the group.

A white horse came through the crowds. It bore a figure in armor akin to that a Roman general might have worn, but a longsword rested at his side.

The warlord dismounted and removed his helm, and her heart skipped a beat. "Arthur."

His eyes turned to her, lingered, and then glided away. It was almost as if he did not recognize her.

No, his eye had gone elsewhere once it had rested not on Persephone, but on Gwydion. It was the child he denied, and the mother with him.

Then he turned to face the Kings. The Bishop of London stepped out onto the steps, where the highest of the druids, Merlin, should have stood.

"Arthur," he greeted. "Do you truly take the charge of leading our defense?"

"I do." His eyes were entirely on the bishop now.

Persy's were entirely on him. As were Gwydion's, the boy too young to understand but fascinated by the ceremony.

"Then..."

It was Morgawse who interrupted. "The Christian kings will accept him. But for those of us who follow the old ways, we want more."

Arthur turned towards her.

"If this man is to lead above even the Kings, he must be bound to the land."

"Meaning?" That word came from the bishop, and in it sounded a volume of disaste, every aspect of his tone and the shift in his stance revealing that he wished nothing of such pagan rites.

"He must wed a woman of our royal line." Morgawse's eyes fell first on Morgan, then on Guinevere, then, after a long moment, on Persephone.

She bit back 'He already has'. Why was he betraying her? For his eyes did not move towards her.

Instead, he regarded the two other women, one dark, one fair who faced him. And she knew the truth of his choice. Morgan was as pagan as they came, rumored to be both a powerful witch and priestess of the terrible Morrigan. Leodegranz was Christian, as, one could presume, was his daughter.

"Then, I will wed Guinevere of Wales."

Hatred and confusion boiled up within Persephone's heart. She would see him brought down. She would...

...she could not. Without one unified leader, they would fall. So, instead, she stood there, watching.

Watching as he vanished into the church. Then, she understood. Arthur had converted to Christianity. A wife named after a Greek god could be nothing but an embarrassment to him and a bastard child could only be worse.

Yet, he owed her. Could he not see that?

She vowed to speak with him, before he could wed fair Guinevere. She had one thing that delicate, blonde woman with the slender hips did not.

She had his son.

Pre-order links:

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07XKC7DWG

Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-lay-of-lady-percival-jennifer-r-povey/1133400491?ean=2940163330577

#arthurian #arthuriana #book #book release

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thegeminisage · 5 years

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i’m gonna liveblog my rewatch of 2.08 because i can

it’s stupid long so here’s the cut

just to give you an idea of how fast this switch flipped for me at the start of this episode when uther is like “u will find no one who embodies nobleness better than my son arthur” i went “PFFFFFT” & had a good chortle

i have a lot to say about this duel challenge sequence. 1. why are strangers always coming in and tossing their glove on the floor. everyone in that room is armed. just take them out! 2. arthur picks up the glove first this time, unlike 1.03. guess he can learn after all 3. he does it BEFORE SEEING HER FACE god classic he’s so fucking stupid

everyone getting their panties in a twist over having to fight a WOMAN when in reality she goes on to kick his ass is like...both tiresome & hilarious

i used to really be on the fence about the Vibe between merlin & arthur because while they seemed quite happy to die for one another from the get-go most of the time arthur is just being MEAN and merlin isn’t as mean back and it’s like :/ ok i don’t get what everyone else is so heart-eyes over. but in 2.08 they do a lot of confiding in one another and just general talking about plot-stuff where arthur’s insults are...not absent, but kept to a minimum, and idk it’s nice! it’s nice. less like arthur is a massive bully and more like they’re Companions. i’m not hopeful about it lasting bc this show doesn’t know the meaning of the words “consist continuity” but it was reeeeeaally good here

arthur’s face when he lost to a G I R L and uther just walked out with no comment. even back when i still hated him i was like “ouch”

that being said it was a welcome change of pace to see merlin giving ARTHUR shit for once. finally

upon morgause and morgana’s first meeting when morgause says “i hope you will remember me fondly” i went “WOW THAT’S GAY” because i didn’t KNOW and cathy told me later she had to put her head in her hands for five whole minutes. don’t shoot me i’m just the messenger they’re the ones who wrote it that way

my favorite thing about morgause is that i couldn’t immediately figure her out. i’m in the habit of throwing out guesses about future plot points for fun, because i’m a writer and that’s how i deconstruct things, and since this show was kind of meant to be kid-friendly i’m usually right. but as far as morgause went...i didn’t have a clue. i had NO IDEA this whole ep would be like this

i’ve said this before (not on this blog tho) but arthur is like...really eager to die. i keep joking that he has a death wish but upon further reflection i don’t think he’s actively seeking to end his life as much as he would be relieved to die for something noble like honor or whatever because then he would have...done it right, if that makes any sense, and wouldn’t have to worry about screwing it up anymore. he doesn’t want to die but he craves a good death. to prove to his dad and himself that he’s made of the right stuff?? i’m not being very clear. this concept requires more thought

it’s REALLY a lot for me that uther would rather throw arthur in his own chambers than have him find out about ygraine. yyyyikes

merlin sneaking in that rope was so cute. he finally got the group’s communal braincell for a few minutes

on the other hand after the troll episodes i am SO tired of dung being played for laughs. i really suffered

also man i’m so glad morgana finally got some sleep it’s what she deserves

this Dead Parent talk really mcmurdered me. both merlin and arthur lost a parent when they were very young & they now cannot remember said parent and we HAVE THAT IN COMMON so every single word they said was like an arrow straight to my heart!!!!!!! like as good as the ending to this episode was (and OH it was good OHHHHH it was GOOD) i think this right here is what truly softened me up towards arthur. this is relatability, this is emotional vulnerability, this is a genuine human connection made between EQUALS and frankly it’s exactly what i’ve been wanting from these guys for a season and a half. their willingness to die for each other is good stuff to be sure but it’s EMPTY without some meat to back it up & we’re finally getting what we deserve

“i’d do anything for even the vaguest memory” like they didn’t have to go that hard & read me for filth like that but they did. they did. arthur. babe. my guy.

almost every time someone comes in to speak with uther he’s eating and he has like an entire mini-banquet in front of him even though he’s all by himself. like, an entire plate of grapes, a whole-ass chicken, an intact loaf of bread, a bowl FILLED with whole uncut apples...wtf??

“what would YOU know about magic, merlin?” “nothing ;)” i did have a good chortle truly

i’ve already made my points about arthur and a good death but MAN he was hasty to put his head on that chopping block for no good fucking reason at all. holy shit. him casually doing that swing-thing he does with his sword to the axe ahead of time really adds a lot to this entire thing and also aged me ten years

when arthur was like “what if my father’s attitude towards magic is wrong” and “surely not everyone who practices magic can be evil” i gasped so fucking loud. so fucking loud

and the worst part is you can practically feel merlin’s heartbeat pick up. just LOOK at his “wtf am i hearing is this for real could my dreams actually come true” face. but at the same time, he’s got to be the one with a healthy suspicion here because arthur is in over his head. so he STILL can’t trust it. and then naturally it goes to hell so quickly that the chance for merlin to confide in arthur is lost. i can’t believe this took 4 irl years and five seasons. watching this live must have been like TORTURE. i’m practically bingeing it and i’m still suffering deeply

it’s very odd to me that arthur specifically said his mother died before he opened his eyes but the first thing ygraine says to him is that she remembers him staring up at her. to me that’s an obvious clue that she’s a fake, and the cutaway during that line to merlin’s face tells me he had the same suspicion (and that he’s kind of horrified by it)

ARTHUR FEELS SO GUILTY FOR HER DYING AND I’M ALSO DYING AND SLDFKMGHLSKDFJH

i know for a fact that ygraine’s telling of these events is slightly altered from the truth too...there’s no way that uther would have been so overcome with grief that he went on to commit genocide if he knew beforehand that his wife would die and was willing to sacrifice her

on the other hand, there’s also a cutaway to morgause’s face during this speech in which she looks surprised or confused at what ygraine says, which doesn’t add up if she was pulling these strings, so...What Is The Truth

not to be like this but merlin bearing witness to this whole series of events is like...there’s some things that once you go through them with somebody things between you change and there’s a new intimacy there...i don’t expect much from a show that likes to return to the status quo but in my heart it’s how i feel

OH BOY HERE WE GO. arthur arrives in camelot and pulls his sword out as soon as he leaves his horse leaving a visibly spooked merlin behind him this is the STUFF

“arthur was born of magic” is really a hell of a line because even though i already knew this backstory i hadn’t stopped to consider it like that...no, magic is not a crucial part of arthur’s identity and how he views himself the way it is for merlin and morgana, but it’s still a part of his history and what made him who he is, that made him alive and different from other people. his hatred and fear of it becomes so much more tragic in that light. i think also there was such a clear line drown before between people who are magic and people who are not and for me, mentally, arthur kind of...swapped sides, or is at least straddling the border

merlin’s absolute FURY at uther’s hypocrisy is like...........fucking. another thing i wanted to see for a season and a half. imo there’s not nearly enough meat to the fact that merlin is magic and ultimately serves uther who is trying to decimate him and his kind - has actually SAVED UTHER'S LIFE on MULTIPLE occasions. this is the first time this show actually went “hey uther is responsible for the deaths of hundreds of people and that’s really not at all ok” and i am SO into it. like, no, he’s not misguided. he’s not “just grieving.” he’s a murderer. he’s responsible for genocide.

the final 9 minutes of this episode feature arthur pendragon being absolutely FURIOUS. he’s LIVID. he’s PISSED. and i love it more than anything else this show has done so far

i genuinely, truly believed he didn’t have this in him. never in my WILDEST DREAMS could i have imagined arthur doing this. i had written it off as the stuff of fanfics. but holy shit my man snapped

HE👏DID👏THAT👏

reasons i did not see this coming at all even a little: 1. i figured there was no way arthur would get over his anti-magic thing until near the end (i know it must come back later, but STILL) 2. i did not believe for one second he could ever seriously stand up to his father for more than a few minutes at a time 3. most of what’s making arthur so goddamn pissed is that he thinks his dad killed his mom on purpose but he’s also showing a fair amount of horror at the fact that uther hunted down and killed everyone even remotely associated with sorcery like animals. do you know what that is? does anybody else understand the enormity of this? HE IS SHOWING EMPATHY. i DID NOT believe he was capable of it.

i do feel a way about how uther started this scene from a place of cool confidence - he was handing out orders, “leave us and no one comes in,” manipulating the situation, “she was lying to you, magic users are trying to destroy us,” and finally trying to close the door on the topic and reassert control, “i am your kind and your father and you will SHOW ME SOME RESPECT” - and arthur was not only having none of it (the way his eyes narrowed as uther’s casual “she was lying”...oh boy) he TURNED THE TABLES and had uther ON THE DEFENSIVE. the number of times we’ve seen uther shut other people down and get his way because he’s king and everyone is afraid of him and this time uther was the one who afraid LITERALLY for his life. HOW’S THAT TASTE BITCH god it was SO satisfying. like, there’s one shot where arthur is walking slowly towards him after all his verbal tactics have failed to de-escalate the situation and he’s in the backround with his eyes so fucking wide and he looks TERRIFIED. i LOVE IT

“you are my son. you would not strike an unarmed man.” “i no longer consider myself your son” AND HE STRIKES HIM

HE👏

DID👏

THAT👏

when i say that i LITERALLY screamed i am not at all exaggerating or using hyperbole. cathy asked twice if i needed to pause & collect myself. i could not have paused if my life depended on it

i’m really on the fence about merlin stopping arthur. on the one hand, arthur has suffered enough and doesn’t need to suffer more by having to carry the guilt or dadmurder. under the other, uther is a monster and needs to die, and the entire world would be better off without him

like...arthur’s face when he says “you have caused so much suffering and pain”...he really finally got it. for one beautiful brilliant moment he understood

i am NOT on the fence about merlin lying to arthur. that was the wrong way to do it. arthur 6000% deserves to know the truth and that’s only gonna come back and bite them later i’m sure (unless it never comes back at all in which case i’ll be pissed)

i’m not sure that arthur would have backed off if they had told the truth and said “uther didn’t realize your mom was gonna die so really that part wasn’t his fault”...he was really mad! but he might’ve. lying was not the way to go. i’m so angry at literally everyone in that scene for allowing arthur to walk away believing he was wrong. he was so full of conviction and he was about to do a really good thing - not good for him personally, but good for the world - and everyone he trusts lied to his face in order to maintain the status quo and not have to deal with anything ugly. i HATE it. i’m team arthur now. i’m in the arthur defense squad. all those dumb liars aren’t good enough to be his friends!!!!!!

like, even his dad’s words were sooo carefully chosen to avoid lying but also avoid telling the whole truth. even in that moment when arthur was laying it all bare and they could have made some sort of progress as character and as people. we had to go BACK TO THE STATUS QUO

Once Again Arthurs Heart Is Hardened To Magic i hate it thanks

honestly look uther telling arthur that he’s a trusted ally in the fight against magic should make him feel a lot more distressed than what we got. i mean i’m sure he’s glad his cover is safe but he should realize that if uther approves he’s doing something wrong

furthermore, uther hasn’t changed a bit. he says he came to thank merlin and that merlin is a loyal servant and trusted ally, but then threatens his life before he leaves. honestly we should have just let arthur stab him

i do appreciate them making a point of mentioning that merlin was tempted to let uther die and that it would have been better for him if uther HAD died and he only did what he did to protect arthur but like...there were ways to do that that didn’t involve lying i think. this is an optimistic show most of the time. it wouldn’t have messed with my suspension of disbelief if arthur had dropped the sword knowing the real whole truth! but no, The Status Quo

i don’t know if i will still love arthur so much in the coming episodes.................we’ll see. i’m kind of nervous because i don’t know how they’re ever going to top this. i think we peaked right here and it’ll never be this good for me again

#personal #merlin blogging #this is.............literally so long sorry #no one is obligated to read it.#i doubt anyone would get to the end anyway #but i just needed to talk about all 1000000 of my feelings #tldr is im v proud of arthur and very mad at everyone else #which makes ME an annoying arthur stan now. oops!#liz's meta #liz's merlin stuff #not really but this post deserves a spot in the hall of fame #liz makes stuff

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seawolvesanddragons · 5 years

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Merlin Descendants AU

ok so Arthur is obviously the prince of Albion - his father was in charge of the army that sent all the fairy tale villains and after they won as tribute he had all the other kingdoms got to keep their sovereignty, but recognize Camelot as the high kingdom of the council of kingdoms, now called Albion. (Uther had a grudge against magic for years, as he had been cursed by a witch to slow die via petrifiacation until Ygraine’s true love saved him.) It was after Ygraine gave birth to Arthur though that it all escalated. Morgause cursed Ygraine, causing her to die and Uther to lead an army against ALL the magic users, the most difficult to defeat were Morgause, Catarina (The Evil Queen of Bayard’s kingdom/his evil stepmother) and Sigan. (Song about the irony of happy endings here?) Fast forward 16 years. Merlin, Morgana, Gwen, Elyan, Will and Mordred all grew up in "The Perilous Lands" with their villainous parents. Morgana is the daughter of Morgause, Will is the son of Valient, Gwen and Elyan are the children of Catrina, Mordred is the son of Alvar, and Merlin is the son of the witch who cursed Uther in the first place. On the island, the kids pretty much have to fend for themselves, with parents who are neglectful at best. While Morgana is the daughter of the most powerful person on the island, its Merlin who everyone in their group will look to if pushed. (Rotten to the Core)

Arthur, who was just named Crown Prince of Camelot, and Albion, is allowed by custom and law to make one royal decree. And Arthur, having grown up by the knights code and with his mother's heart (and Gaius' influence, not to mention Leon and Lancelot) decides to do the right thing: he wants to give a chance to all the kids in Avalon who don't deserve to be judge by their parents crimes. Uther is furious. Most of the kings and queens are furious. Most of Arthur's peers at schools are doubtful. Finally, they are able to hammer out some kind of compromise: they start small, with only four of the children, who will attend the school in Albion’s School of Nobility or whatever, along with most of the nobility, knights, etc. When Uther goes to announce the names, Arthur stepsides him and gives the four name's he's decided - Morgana, Gwen, Elyan, and Merlin. Uther is furious, but can't take back the names now that they have been publicly decreed. (Arthur totally gets grounded for that, but doesn't care. Really, its amazing how well Arthur has turned out considering Morgana and Merlin aren't around. Let's credit Leon and Lancelot with that.)

((Now, it must be mentioned that while Arthur is doing a good thing here, he still is prattish. He's just closer to season two or end of season one Arthur than early season one Arthur. Good heart buried under a lot of attitude. Blame Uther. ))

Arthur defends his choices saying if they succeed with the worst of their enemies children, then the plan would work with anyone, and to make up for it, the fourth one, Merlin is reported to not have any powers and Gwen and Elyan are both rather weak as well. Uther replies angrily that he is the son of the woman who cursed Uther to turn into a beast, but Arthur retorts that as the high king and prince of a lead kingdom on the council, they must set the example - that means inviting both the witch and Morgause’s daughter to the school.

Over in The Perilous Lands, Morgana, Gwen, Elyan and Merlin are NOT thrilled about going to live in Albion, where they will be essentially hostages. They are particularly worried about leaving Will and Mordred behind. Before they leave, Morgause and Catrina tell them they must steal Excalibur, the legendary sword bathed in dragons breath, and kill Uther and Arthur, shattering the curse that keeps all the villians in The Perilous Lands and letting them break out to take over the kingdoms. While they are worried about being in Albion, its clear they are not sorry to be getting away from their parents. It is shown that Morgause has high expectations from Morgana, expecting her to be the one to kill Uther and Arthur, though she won't say why, and has an extreme dislike of Merlin. Despite that, Morgana and Merlin are shown to be good friends.

The four arrive at the school, where a group of armored guards is to escort them to their rooms (under heavy lock and key) where Aredian, the headmaster meets them. He warns them all that one misstep and they will be banished back to the perilous lands or worse, and forces magic surpressing amulets on them. Morgana is the only one visibly affected. He reminds them that magic is banished in Albion except those with express permission by the king, and leaves.

Meanwhile Arthur was at knights practice, and it is only when Lancelot finds him to let him know he saw Aredian with four newcomers that Arthur realizes they arrived a day early and no one let him know of the change (damn Uther.) he rushes to their chambers, unlocking the door to find them. He's flustered that he messed up so early on, and they are so not impressed with Crown Prince Arthur Pendragon, and their first impressions go rather poorly. At one point, Merlin has to calm Morgana down, as she and Arthur are facing off.

The turn around comes slowly. First, despite trying not be impressed, the quality of food they get at dinner is quite frankly amazing, and these kids have never eaten properly. Then, Lancelot, because he is always going to be kind and chivalrous, befriends the group and offers to show them around the school. He tells them to not judge Arthur too harshly - he's a nice guy, really , but there's a lot of pressure on him and he needs this project especially to go well. Through Lancelot they meet Gwaine who immediately decides that these people are totally great to get in trouble with (Merlin is the only one who takes him up on it.)

Later, Arthur realizes that they all have magic supressors on after he sees it hanging around Merlin's neck and Morgana nearly faints. He immeidately helps them take it off, commenting that they deserve the same first chance as everyone. He also remarks he's surprised that Morgana is the only one with magic - therefore, the only one affected. The group exchanges looks but says nothing. When Arthur leaves, Merlin follows, and thanks him.

The group sneaks out to check out where Excalibur is being held, but Merlin persuades them to wait before just stealing it- they need a PLAN duh. (Evil Like Me)

So they have to try and integrate themselves into the school. Gwen and Elyan honestly do spectacular - kids of Catarina or not, they are the sweetest people alive, Gwen especially. She helps the other girls with their clothes thanks to her mad sewing skills, and offers to sew the knights in training new capes. She and Lancelot are also getting close. ; ) Elyan shows great promise as a knight, so Leon, Gwaine, Percival, Lancelot and Arthur take him under their wing in Arthur’s training classes. They offer to do the same for Merlin, but he is hopeless as a swordsman, which Arthur teases him about.

Arthur still does some prattish stuff, but its mostly things like foot in mouth syndrome, like when he mocks Merlin for eating so much and Merlin replies he's never had strawberries before. Or Merlin decides to skip classes for the day (whats the big deal Arthur?) and stroll about the town. Arthur follows him (its on his head if this blows up) and sees what poor people live like for the first time.

The four are still trying to plan how to steal Excalibur, but its obvious most of them don't have their hearts in it. Morgana, though, terrified of her mother, keeps pushing for it. (Evil Like Me Reprise) Things grow tense between her and Merlin as Morgana tries to be more "in charge" of their group, to please her mother, while Merlin tries to caution her from doing anything rash. They fight.

Morgana and Gwen also befriend Mithian and Elena, and Isolode swordfights with them. (you can't grow up on the island and not know how to fight, except Merlin.) Gwen and Lance share a moment, making her feel doubly worse about their secret plan. (If Only)

Morgana is still getting visions, all pointing back to he mother, making her fear grow. After seeing how close Gwen is to Lancelot and Merlin is to Arthur, she lashes out at both. After they make up, she begins to also befriend Arthur as they work on a school project with him.

Of course, not eveyone in school is kind - Cenred bullies all of them, as does Sophia, Cedric, and Aredian. Luckily, Gaius and Hunith are around to help our not quite heroes out.

There are totally some kind of games or competitions where they have to get split up in teams during different rounds. The first time they play they group the villain kids together cause no one wants to play on a team with them. Shockingly, the Villain kids fucking destroy the others. Later, at another version of the games during parents weekend, the four get split up into different groups with their new friends, and each help their group do well. Merlin and Arthur are totally paired up, and they win. And Morgana can be paired with them as well. (Song here in here about them learning to work together during the competition)

During parents weekend a lot of tension rises. First several of the original King Bayard’s older knights go off on Gwen because she reminds them of the Evil Queen, and Elyan makes the matters worse when he rushes to defend Gwen. Uther pales when he sees Morgana, and pointedly avoids her. She has her own run in with Vivian's grandparents, whose daughter Morgause had cursed/killed, who scream at her about being the same as her mother. When Merlin tries to step in to smooth things over, Uther snaps at him, saying his mother was the cause of it all, and they are exactly the same. He then yells at Arthur for befriending him, and storms off. When Arthur, Mithian, Elena and the knights fail to stand up for them immediately, the four rush off, seemingly disappearing into thin air as soon as they turn the corner. Morgana uses this event to convince the others that they will always be seen as their parents, and they should at least please their parents and steal the sword. They are all visibly torn about this, but decide to do it. They decide they will do this during the knighting ceremony, where Excalibur will be on display.

At the knighting ceremony Uther is knighting the newest knights, and the four vilain kids are kept in the front, still around armored guards. Lancelot, Arthur and friends give them sympathetic looks, and Arthur tries to order the guards to leave but Uther outranks him. The ceremony is stopped when Agravaine, the kings brother in law, tries to steal the sword to kill Uther. The sword isn't moved, but the moment Agravaine's hand breaks the barrier, Maorgause is strong enough to break free, and transports herself to the ceremony, freezing everyone but Uther, Arthur, and Gaius, and the villian kids. Morgause applauds her daughter on a job well done, managing to trick someone else into doing her dirty work, and Arthur gives the group a betrayed look as Morgana protests. Merlin tries to speak up but Morgause snaps at him to be quiet, and sends him to the ground. When Morgana begs her mother to stop, Morgause laughs, and says she must have inherited her father's penchant for betrayal. Morgana, who has never heard about her father, stops. The air stills. Morgause is well aware of the tension she has created, and smiles. She tells everyone of how Morgana's father had approached her 17 years ago to try and convince her to use her magic to make him king of the whole of Albion, and in return he would make her queen. They lay together, but once her father learned she didn't have the power he was looking for, he left her, returning to his bride, who gave birth to a son a few months later. A blonde, healthy, prince of a boy, she adds, looking significantly at Arthur. After that insult, how could she let the mother live? Uther's face drains of all color as they all realize what she is saying. Morgause laughs, summoning Excalibur into Morgana's hands, and tells her to kill her father and brother, and take her rightful place alongside Morgause. Merlin tries to intervene and Maleficient blasts him back against the wall. (Evil Like Me and If Only or some hybrid play instrumentally in the background)

Arthur calls Morgana his sister, and Morgana refuses to kill him, throwing the sword down. Enraged, Morgause tries to grab the sword herself, but finds herself unable to move. Merlin, rising slowly, transfixes her with an intense gaze, and tells her enough is enough. Morgause begins to resist. Giving Morgana a panicked look, he tells her he needs her help staring down her mother. The VKs all grab hands, and begin chanting the spell Morgana taught them. Arthur joins in, and as Morgause magic breaks their friends begin to come out of the spell. Gaius joins in, and the knights grab hands. Morgause turns into a lizard. The rest of the room becomes unfrozen. Before the kids can say anything, Uther declares that Agravaine was working with Morgause, and it was only the brave actions of Arthur (and, he mumbles relunctantly) the villain kids who brought them down, and reiterates how dangerous magic is. Arthur is clearly disgusted and Merlin enraged, and they both startle forward to call him out on his lies when Gaius stops them. Telling the truth would weaken Uther, yes, but also everyone's trust in the kingdom. Was it really best to do that right now?

Morgana supports Gaius' idea, and Arthur pointedly calls her family. Later on, as they are all at the feast enjoying themselves (Gwen is dancing with Lancelot, Arthur asked Morgana to dance, etc) Gaius turns and asks Merlin how he was able to hold his own with Morgause, stating that Merlin could have beaten her without Morgana if he needed to, Gaius could tell, even if no one else could. Merlin's mother wasn't that powerful of a witch herself, and she appeared to pass none of her gifts onto Merlin. Merlin smiles, and says that the funny thing about him, Gwen, Morgana and Elyan coming to Albion is that everyone is so concerned about their mothers, no one things to ask about their fathers. He winks at Gaius. Gaius is clearly about to ask more, when Merlin is pulled into the dancing circle by Arthur (Morgana is now dancing with Elyan). They dance together. (Better Together)

In the second movie they totally go back to the island and Will is all like "wtf Merlin you became besties with the crown prince?" "does he even know about your father" "how can you turn you back on your past?" while Mordred is just totally enamoured with everything about the knights, who take one look at the adorable boy and are just like "we're adopting you."

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capmerthur · 5 years

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THE BODY SWAP (final chapter)

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. Mentions of Will and George.

Excerpt PART XV:

" Do you feel any different, Merlin? Please tell me it's gone."

The words stab through Merlin like a knife.

"I do feel like myself", Merlin asserts in the most joyful tone he can master while his heart splits in two, answering only the first question because at least then it's *not* a lie - even knowing the words mean the contrary of the truth in Arthur's opinion.

(PREVIOUS CHAPTERS UNDERS CHAPTER XV)

XV. TELL ME IT’S GONE (MERLIN POV)

"Do you feel any different, Merlin?"

Merlin had pondered the night before about how things could turn out, after having lifted the spell - if it worked, of course. And he cannot deny that he had thought, if only briefly, about how Arthur might simply come to accept his magic afterwards, as a new part of him; at least, Merlin wouldn't have to hide such an intrinsic part of himself from Arthur anymore, huh. It would have been a lie, too, though - even a greater one than simply keeping the original truth secret; and Merlin had felt guilty for having even ever entertained the wish for the easy way.

But now, Merlin understands that it isn't even an option anyway to start with. Arthur looks definitely worried. And there is no doubt in Merlin's mind about the answer Arthur wishes to hear, even before Arthur actually pleads for it:

"Please tell me it's gone."

The words stab through Merlin like a knife.

Admitting he has (no matter always or still) magic would only create distance between them now. Not even distance because Arthur might grow to mistrust him (you bet Merlin would never give him reasons to to start with); but simply, literally, a physical distance. Arthur would send him away. Arthur would not allow him to stay - not at his service, not in the castle, and not even within the borders of Camelot. Not because he might be a threat; simply because he wouldn't accept Merlin endangering himself - especially as he would feel responsible in the first place for having brought the trouble upon Merlin. In Arthur's eyes, Merlin going along on risky patrols is acceptable because it is, in fact, Merlin's own decision; but Merlin daily having to risk death in his own home for having magic meant to be Arthur's doom wouldn't be something Arthur would simply let be. That much is crystal clear.

And Merlin just doesn't want to, cannot, won't be sent away.

Which means he will have to lie then, anyway. And even worse: Merlin will now NEVER be able to tell the truth; Arthur will never get to know him - at least not fully. There would be no going back. Confessing the truth later on would only put a spotlight on the fact that he lied now...

Merlin though doesn't even hesitate. It's not only that he doesn't want to leave Arthur's side. It's also, simply, that he can't and won't have Arthur worry on his behalf.

For about three weeks, Arthur tests him - tests *it*. Making Merlin fall, throwing things his way - anything to trigger a defensive mechanism reaction. It's lucky Merlin has years of practice about refraining his magical surges, or he probably wouldn't have lasted an hour.

It settles though finally, once Arthur allows himself to believe Merlin is 'his usual self indeed'. The smile on Arthur's face as he speaks those words is both the most heartwarming and the most heartbreaking thing Merlin has ever seen.

THE END

THANKS AGAIN FOR YOUR AMAZING SUPPORT EVERYONE :) I HAVE SO MUCH FEEEEEEEEELS FOR/ABOUT THOSE TWO IDIOTS AND I HOPE I MADE THEM JUSTICE...

BACKSTORY : WHO THE HELL DID IT ? (I'M SURE YOU ALL WONDER...)

1) I could have gone fluffy (Merlin thought about having Arthur truly knowing him, or understanding what it is to be him, or something, before falling asleep, and his magic interprets it poorly and messes up. BUT Merlin is too attuned to his magic, he deals with it since his birth, that sort of magic blunders clearly belongs in the past...

2) I could have gone naughty (Merlin dreams about Arthur being inside him and him being inside Arthur in a physical way, and his magic interprets it poorly and messes up. But 1) see 1, and 2) Merlin imo just DOESN'T permit himself that sort of thoughts about Arthur. No way. He is so DEVOTED to Arthur, it would feel like disrespect, especially as soon as in S1. (He will long as time goes by for more contact and closeness though - but I think Merlin never permits himself to think further than the fact that he longs; instead of the specifics of what exactly he might long for). Also, to begin with anyway, imo Merlin doesn't permit himself that sort of thoughts about anyone in general too. I think he's honestly cautious about sex, because it includes losing control, which means his magic getting revealed somehow (how do you think Will ever found out, huh? Headcanon time: Will is older and tells him once about masturbating feeling like magic and Merlin tries and makes a butterfly and the next time he sees Will he's like 'wow, you were right, i made a butterfly' and Will is like ?); so it's just a BIG NO, with everyone and all the time. (It also explains in part too imo why he falls for Freya - she knows magic too, therefore not only does she understand him without need for justification and explanation, but also she is a potential mate, physically too - with her, it's safe. And as the prophecy says Arthur *will* be king, as long as Uther lives he should be alright, technically, so Merlin thinks maybe he CAN have it all after all, somehow - go with Freya until the time comes for him to return at Arthur's side...)

SO: IT'S NIMUEH.

The boys got it all wrong. No one is after Arthur, neither his body, neither his mind... It's just Nimueh coming for *Merlin*.

She understood Merlin has magic in 1.03, and decided he must be gone, in order for her to have her revenge on Uther = 1.04

But Merlin survived (as she realizes by 1.09)!

So to be rid of Merlin she switches Merlin and Arthur (=this fic) - that way, Merlin can't use his magic (and Arthur neither, because you don't learn how to deal with magical abilities overnight... normally at least, she has no idea about how powerful Merlin's magic is) - and she sends the Questing Beast (begin of 1.13) after ARTHUR'S BODY (because it is in fact Merlin) (and it's not kiling Arthur, as he can live on in Merlin's body...)

But, when later in 1.13 Merlin comes to her to beg for Arthur's life, she realizes that Merlin is still in fact in his body, which either means that he is too powerful for her to put a spell on him, or powerful enough to have find a way to reverse the spell even without his magic, which can only means that Merlin is Emrys, and she wants to bring him on her side more than kill him, now that she knows of his importance. And as she wasn't as she says supposed to be the one killing Arthur, she agrees to help (but cannot take Merlin's life, knowing he's the almighty Emrys, so takes his mother then Gaius instead as she doesn't really mind who goes anyway...)

SEE? IT MAKES (SOME) SENSE (And gave me the perfect opportunity to use Bradley's idea, because honestly - WHY DIDN'T THEY USE IT IN THE SHOW! I'm not that much into body swap in general, but in this MAGICAL universe to start with, and with those two idiots? It just works. SO, for the last time, everyone, say: THANK YOU BRADLEY :))

(By the way, as we're at it, another headcanon: it is more guilt than love that drives Uther / Ygraine. The questing beast was supposed to come for him - a price he had been ready to pay to have a legitimate masculine heir. But Ygraine sprung in between or something, saving him and dying. I cannot buy the love of my life thing knowing he cheated on her behind her back; and guilt is enough of a vicious motivator on his own too...)

(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…

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?!

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

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.

“Sire?” 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.

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) - no matter whenever it comes out at Arthur’s expanse too, food getting shoved into his mouth and getting unceremoniously pulled out of bed included in their everyday banter, as Merlin can give just as much as he gets indeed. But that’s maybe what Arthur values the most: how Merlin’s respect feels earned and honest; neither forced by birthright or fear for repercussions, nor cajoling nor 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 whirlwind. Always animated, always busy; never still, even when he’s doing nothing. But always so expressive - so easy to read - a fact Arthur has come not only to appreciate after decades around perpetually guarded scheming faces, but even to *trust*.

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!’ ?

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.” Merlin sobers up. “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 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 concocting 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* - 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, Sire, 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…)

VII. DOOMED (ARTHUR POV)

With a last commanding yet encouraging nod, Arthur leaves Merlin by the Great Hall’s entrance and starts to make his way towards the Library.

He is stopped by Merlin’s name being called out twice - because he has failed to react right away; Arthur chastises himself. It is the headmaster recruiting hands: his Father wants his bath ready when the pleas end.

Arthur doesn’t want to bring Merlin in trouble, of course; so he takes on the ordered job - after all, how complicated can it be?

He is paired with a newcomer answering the name of George who looks up to him as if he holds the sun: the Prince’s manservant! Which isn’t that bad. Until he starts, seemingly embarrassed but curious all the same, to ask questions like “Is the Prince as terrible as they say?” or “Is it true he throws knives?” and such? Arthur tries to explain that the training field is, well, to train? He isn’t sure the message gets across though, as George only holds his eyes with a perplexed gaze…

Arthur can’t help but hope that Merlin at least understands that he’s not only training himself but also trying to get Merlin to know how to defend himself if not to attack whenever he comes at him with a mace or anything… He should maybe make his intentions clearer, apparently…

Anyway. After yet another round of carrying buckets full of cold or warmed-up water up and down and left and right, Arthur realises there is more to it than it looks; and the bath is only half full still…

And when they’re nearly done? His three coworkers and the headmasteer seem satisfied, but Arthur can’t help but think while bringing up the last two buckets that they achieved nothing more than a luke warm bath with a clean but no particular scent. Merlin’s baths are definitely of a superior category on both accounts, and Arthur doesn’t know if he should feel guilty and spoiled for regularly enjoying better baths than the king himself, or more amazed or worried about Merlin’s bath-preparing skills (is he even thinking about his safety? he wouldn’t actually carry boiling water up the stairs, would he?)

Arthur decides he should address the issue. And maybe take baths downstairs from now on just in case - a little backroom near the kitchen would be more practical than his chambers, wouldn’t it? When the space isn’t needed for banquets preparations and such of course…

Arthur misses the first step towards the second floor (it’s actually the eleventh time today that he misses a step - he still isn’t used to Merlin’s feet). This time though, his balance is too lost for him to compensate and he falls backwards, landing on his butt and ready to get soaked and hit by the water and buckets he has released when instinctively freeing his hands (one to help catch his fall; one to protect himself from the falling projectiles). Except nothing comes: no water, no hit - and no falling sound either. And when Arthur takes a look? The buckets and water are… floating above his head?

Arthur gasps in surprise, his mind going both blank and reeling…

Then only does Arthur finally get drenched and hit on the shoulder.

Arthur blinks. Twice.

What has just happened isn’t normal, at all. Only - only magic could make such a thing possible!

Arthur looks around, instinctively - scanning for a threat.

He is alone; the corridors are empty as far as he can see, and he hears no voices, nor steps.

Which is good, because no one is attacking him then.

Which is the worst though - because if there is no one around… then the only person responsible for what he has just witnessed must be - is - HIMSELF?!

Arthur gasps again; this time in panick.

His first instinct is denial. But he knows what he saw. And somehow, it just makes sense, doesn’t it?

It’s not the body of the Prince that whoever switched him and Merlin is after. It’s his mind…

Put him in the body of a servant, give him magic, and sooner or later (and most probably sooner) he is bound to die by his Father’s law. What is he supposed to say in his defense? That he IS the Prince, in another body which had been given an ounce of magic on the sole purpose of getting him executed? Who would ever believe him…

In the meantime, the schieming sorcerer must have judged that a servant in his body may be too delighted by the upgrade in status to be a threat to his plans and would gladly unknowingly collaborate, on top of being totally untrained and incompetent at any of his duties.

Then? One only has to kill the King, either by making him ‘ill’ or using the same trick again and - for sure - Camelot is doomed to get wiped out from the map by the first band of Saxons passing by (and most probably enticed to pass by very soon after its King’s death): its only true heir gone, and the supposed one obviously improper to defend it. All of it without casualties on the attacking side, and without anyone knowing how it all came to be, which means no one, even loyal to Camelot, would have a reason to stand against the new regime put in place.

Arthur is more afraid than he has ever been - and he has been in combat enough for that fact to mean something. He feels crushed; defeated, even before the battle - and honestly? He has never despised himself that much. No matter that he has never felt both so unprepared and so intrinsically useless - and not even able to trust himself: surrender is simply inexcusable. Camelot depends on it.

Besides, Arthur owes it to Merlin to fight, right. It’s after all Merlin’s body that’s to die along his spirit. Oh! The villainy, the cowardice in this attack! Use an innocent victim as a vessel to be sacrificed. Sorcerers definitely have no sense of honor indeed.

So. Arthur is angry now. A much more suited mindset, he decides - as long as he doesn’t allow it to blind him. And he won’t. Merlin’s body depends on it too.

Arthur takes a deep breath. He has been taught strategy even before he could talk, right? Time to make a plan of action.

First. He is not as alone as Camelot’s enemy has calculated him to be. He is, in fact, not alone at all. He has Merlin.

Loyal Merlin; not only willing but even devoted to getting back into his own servant body rather than happily playing the prince. Magic familiar and open-minded Merlin - which means Arthur has not only someone who won’t judge him nor fear him to confide in about his new endangering (and in so many ways) abilities, but also someone who might have some basic understanding of it; since he was Will’s friend? Heart-in-the-right-place Merlin: too kind, maybe (but he can at least get aware of it enough in order not to be lead only by it); but naturally just and fair Merlin. Brave, fierce, tenacious Merlin; too reckless though (but again: he can at least get aware of it enough in order not to be lead only by it). Ressourceful Merlin, fast-learning Merlin: he would master his body’s strength, eventually; and Leon would be here to lead the Knights in the meantime… Arthur takes an oath. Even if they fail to find a solution to their problem, Camelot won’t be left unprotected. Come what may; even the worst? Merlin *will* be ready to take his place. Having Merlin’s unique edges smoothed out feels wrong; but it just has to be for show, right?

Second. Well, there is no really second yet; at least not more than what they have already planned. They need to find some books - and pray that they will be useful. And Arthur will just have to be particularly attentive about not repeating the kind of blunder he just did with witnesses present.

Yes. Merlin. Books. Start at the beginning; and with luck, it might just work out in the end.

Arthur cleans up as best as he can, using and wringing his soaked tunic in the buckets, then runs to Merlin’s room for a set of dried clothes. Turning up to retake his place at 'Arthur’’s side while drenched would only draw unwanted attention…

So. Basically? Yep. This is a magic-reveal unreveal fic. But. I mean… It’s Arthur? Also: this fic (to me) is canon (fitting) - so it just can’t be a reveal fic. Bonus: it explains too why Arthur doesn’t get the courage-magic-strength trio hint later on. He thinks Merlin is magic; but only because there is some residual trace to sense from when his body had magic (aka this fic), not that he actually has magic still at the time… Arthur can be at the same time very aware yet very unaware, and he can be so very biased and decided to see things his way, no matter how circumvoluted, right? (Also, of course Arthur thinks in fact then that HE is magic in the trio: he was after all the one inside Merlin when his body had magic; and Merlin IS courage - Arthur has such a low self-esteem to start with…)

On a side note: Arthur would actually trust Merlin with Camelot (even despite his limits). If that doesn’t tell you all there is to tell then I don’t know how to express it. *SIGH* *GROSS SOBBING* (Gwen though is innately made to be Queen - but Arthur doesn’t know that yet. He isn’t wrong about Merlin though - for Arthur’s memory? Merlin would do his best to be a great King too, you bet…) *GROSS SOBBING AGAIN*

VIII. MERLIN’S CHAINMAIL (ARTHUR POV)

“Merlin! My boy! You’re soaked! Did you provoke Arthur again and end up under the well for it this time?”

Great. Gaius sounds half amused half concerned. Does actually *everyone* think him to be a brute?

Well; nevermind. Merlin knows better, right - and that’s what matters. Merlin is never backing away, Merlin is never really complaining; Merlin just watches him with mirth in his challenging eyes: I dare you. Of course Arthur HAS TO then… It’s like… kind of a private wordless conversation only the two of them understand. But honestly? Arthur wouldn’t trespass Merlin’s limits - if anything, Arthur would probably even feel guilty, if Merlin actually ever made one known…

But then, Gaius is patting his shoulder, pushing him towards 'his’ room; and Arthur is stunned silent, as he can’t help but relish on the (for him unusual) affectionate paternalistic small gesture.

“Get changed. Get warmed up. You’ll tell me later. I haven’t heard the bell signaling the end of the pleas, it is already so late? I’ve just finished Sir Kay’s potion, and it should be drinken warm, as you know; so I’d better be on my way. We’ll prepare Uther’s draught and the balm for Little Kathleen’s knee when I’m back. Also, I’m afraid I’ve ruined my coat; if you could work your magic on it next time you’re mending Arthur’s clothes, I’d be very much obliged?”

And then Gaius is gone, and Arthur is still stunned, but now for another reason - it was but a polite turn of phrase, of course, and Arthur knows Merlin just isn’t capable of miracles, as proven by the state of some of his shirts - beyond mending; but Gaius would better not use some idioms that carelessly around the palace - who knows who might hear and takes things the wrong way… Arthur shakes his head as he hurries to change, feeling sorry for letting Gaius down, but not planning to stay around until Gaius comes back - he wouldn’t know anyway how to prepare his Father’s nor Kathleen’s medicine, right…

Arthur opens Merlin’s cupboard.

There are only two folded set of clothes (neckerchief included indeed), and Arthur just takes the one on top.

He’s about to close the door when his eyes fall on Merlin’s chainmail.

The first time Arthur had told Merlin that he had been assigned to lead some patrol, Merlin had right away asked:

“When do we leave?”

Arthur had been surprised, then had tilted his head, apprehending Merlin while explaining that coming along was to be Merlin’s choice; and not per se his duty as palace manservant. They usually asked for volunteers; there was extra coin to be earned and such.

Merlin had only repeated:

“Sire; when do we leave?”

Arthur had been surprised again, but definitely pleased:

“Tomorrow at first light.”

“I’d better start packing right away then. What do you need?”

After having listed their necessities, Arthur had mentioned that he would have a chainmail sent to Gaius’s for Merlin to wear. Merlin had countered that he had no wish for carrying extra weight around as it would only slow him down in his chores; and that he would rather wear his everyday clothes. Arthur had said it was folly to go unprotected - they would patrol the borders, and thiefs and saxons could fall on them - and Merlin had finally relented some and agreed to wear a chainmail he would self adapt as he wished above some clothing but under his tunic. Arthur had been suspicious when Merlin had turned up the next morning without even a cap showing out, and had actually moved his neckerchief aside to make sure Merlin was wearing metal under his tunic…

Without hesitation, Arthur takes the chainmail out too, deciding he should wear it under his clothes. After all, the longer Arthur might succeed in hiding his new abilities, the more chances there are that the one responsible for their troubles might choose to turn to more expeditive measures of his own. Killing a servant might go unnoticed for awhile, and would work just as well in case whoever had planned this got tired of waiting for Arthur to betray himself and get executed. Which means that Merlin’s body is just walking around as a mark waiting to get hit… and Arthur should do his best to protect it. Merlin’s chainmail is barely worth its name; but it does cover his chest, belly and back, at least.

Arthur makes it back to the Great Hall right on time for the end of the pleas. It was the moment they had planned to stage for Arthur’s injury; but Arthur discretly but authoritatively signals 'no’ with his head. It would be too risky; what if while falling he instinctively uses magic again - in front of the whole court? Merlin gives him a curious look but follows his cue anyway, thanksfully. There is still enough time to create an excuse before training; and they can still tell he fell even without witnesses anyway. It would have been a nice added touch at make-believe, but Gaius vouching for them should be enough on its own, right?

As they walk in silence back to Gaius’s quarters, Arthur feels Merlin’s eyes upon him, boring and questioning. So when they pass by his chambers, Arthur takes the opportunity for privacy. Once behind closed doors, Arthur leads them to the most private corner, as far from the door as possible. Then he takes a deep breath, and turns towards Merlin to explain… everything.

He hasn’t got the time to start though before Merlin hushes out, worry evident in his voice, pointing to Arthur’s side where a hint of metal is visible if you pay attention - and Merlin always pays attention, doesn’t he:

“Sire? Why are you wearing my chainmail?”

AN: It’s canon after all that Arthur doesn’t force Merlin to come along - he lets him leave before Camlann, right? But yes, this is just me giving some sense to the 'just let’s Merlin accompany us everywhere without any kind of protection’ unacceptable general policy. So. Merlin *has* some protection. We just don’t see it. Okay? And the few times he’s actually in armor on patrol, it’s because they need a decoy or something… Also, just so you know: Merlin of course thought that Arthur would probably think that he didn’t want to be seen in a chainmail because he didn’t want to look like a soldier in order not to seem a danger nor a target, but Merlin just couldn’t care: he HAD to be an unconspicuous nobody - it made it easier to protect Arthur with his magic if no one really paid attention to him. And to end with a cute note: whenever they ride out ? Arthur always checks that Merlin wears his chainmail - a fact Merlin can’t help but always secretly revel in…

IX. REVELATIONS (MERLIN POV)

Arthur looks anxious - which only makes Merlin worry more.

“I found out… why I was put into your body. I’m sorry, Merlin. I wear your chainmail because your body is in great danger; and it’s all because of me… again. ”

“Wha-”

Arthur cuts him with an imperative gesture from his hand, voice hushed - even though it echoes in Merlin’s ears like a shout:

“I have- I mean you have… Magic!”

Merlin’s breath catches; panick rising. Arthur knows! Arthur knows?

Arthur seems to read his struck expression though as simple denial.

“Yes, Merlin; you heard right! Magic! I saw water and wood floating above my head - floating, Merlin! - That’s the only way to explain it! But I have no idea how it gets triggered, I have no idea how to control any of it - I fell and it happened, I guess, instinctively? Now you understand why I couldn’t have us stage a fall… If people find out? *When* people find out? My Father will have me - YOU - beheaded!”

Merlin’s eyebrow furrow. He doesn’t understand. If Arthur knows he has magic? How come Arthur looks *contrite* instead of angry; afraid *for him* instead of afraid of him? Not that Merlin is complaining about the fact that Arthur obviously doesn’t wish to see him beheaded, of course; his evident worry is even heartwarming, in a way… but heartbreaking, too, as Merlin can’t help but feel that Arthur’s reaction must be induced by some reason that he doesn’t comprehend yet but that has little to do about him having magic at all…

Arthur then fully explains his theory about their attacker using his body to get to Camelot by erasing Arthur, then Uther, and marching against a Camelot lead by an unprepared servant playing Prince. Merlin is shocked, and shaken. Because indeed Arthur’s reaction isn’t about him having magic at all, but about Arthur feeling responsible for his body’s impending doom. But what hurts the most yet is the heavy guilt that settles upon Merlin’s chest - crushing, constricting, inescapable - as he realizes that in fact everything is his fault! Arthur’s thinking may be flawed on one account; but the rest of it makes sense, indeed. And so Merlin cannot deny that Arthur has been targeted and put into his own body because whoever did this actually knows that he has magic.

And so Merlin feels panick rising again, and even worse than before. It is already complicated enough for Merlin to hide his powers - and he has had practice at it since his birth. How could Arthur ever successfully hide them for long… And to think that *HE* might be the cause of Arthur’s death? It’s worse than anything; worse than everything. And it’s devastating. Merlin can’t hold Arthur’s gaze anymore.

Arthur probably thinks he is overwhelmed by the surprise of his body being a target though.

“And I’m sorry - again, Merlin - but I can’t go and hide at some random remote place until I’ve worked out how to subdue it at least, if not suppress it. There is no time. I can’t leave Camelot; not when it’s so endangered.”

Merlin feels like screaming: Arthur shouldn’t apologize; Arthur shouldn’t feel guilty - It’s all on him!

“It’s all right, Sire. I know you’re right: we have to stay here. After all, our best shot to end this mess is to find guidance in some books; and our best shot to find said books is staying here.” (Also, you bet Merlin isn’t willing to leave Camelot either because he is going to consult with Kilgarrah… Merlin had planned to go to the Great Dragon at the first occasion right when he had realized they had switched bodies; but he now can’t help but wish for the night to come even sooner.)

Arthur looks surprised by Merlin’s easy acceptance as he lets out: “I was going to point that out too?”

Arthur seems to hesitate an instant, taking a deep breath; but then, probably finally enticed by the fact that they still are on the same page apparently, he hushes out words that Merlin had never imagined he would ever hear, even in his wildest dreams.

“Now that’s settled… Do you have any idea that might help me keep it in check? I mean… Back in Ealdor? Did your friend Will maybe ever share something with you that we could use? Anything?”

Merlin’s mouth falls open; but nothing comes out of it. He realizes just how surreal it must have been for Arthur to utter those words. But Arthur looks decided, as always. He means it. And that’s when Merlin realizes Arthur is in fact ready to *learn*. Arthur still doesn’t trust magic, and definitely doesn’t trust his magic now that he has some; he only sees it as a treacherous condition. But he is willing to face it outright, instead of wishing or pretending it isn’t even there to start with. And Merlin realizes that this isn’t only proof of Arthur’s mighty heart; but that it also might actually be their saving too, with some luck?

And so Merlin just HAS to take a chance. Anyway, Arthur *needs* him; and how could Merlin ever let him down to start with… Besides, what if it made Arthur realize that magic isn’t only to be feared; that magic can be good, too, actually?

“Maybe you shouldn’t learn how to keep it check, but how to have it *work*?”

Arthur opens his mouth now, either in shock or to retort - or both; so Merlin hurries to push his point.

“Hear me out, please. Even when we do find an helpful book? The spell we’re under must be very powerful - I mean, have you ever heard or thought this could even be possible? - so we might still require magic too in order to perform whatever will be mentioned in the book? So yes, your new abilities are supposed to be our doom; but maybe we can turn them to our advantage? You have MAGIC, Arthur. If you can control it and use it - on your terms? Maybe that’s just what we need to solve our problem?”

Merlin waits. And Arthur isn’t taking the opportunity to repel his idea. Silence goes on; and still, Arthur isn’t refusing. If anything, he looks… thoughtful, even if doubtful. But there’s resolve, too; and maybe, even, a spark of hope? So Merlin just takes the final plunge.

“As you said… I might have… some basic notions about it? It’s worth a try, Arthur. What do you say?”

Merlin’s heart is pounding so hard it’s going to break his chest for sure, as they hold gazes for a long time - Merlin silently pleading for Arthur to just trust him. Then Arthur gives him a firm nod.

“I say this is probably folly but we have to try, indeed. So. You train me? And I train you.”

Merlin tilts his head, unsure about the second part.

“There are things I want to teach you, Merlin”, Arthur explains; pleads even. “In case we stay stuck in each others body no matter what we try; in case your body should- I know it’s a lot to ask, especially as I apparently keep making your life a hell just by existing? But will you please let me prepare you to take my place, if necessary?”

Merlin’s breath is knocked out of him. Arthur would trust *him* with *Camelot*? But Merlin cannot even contemplate it. Arthur cannot be gone; musn’t be gone; will not be gone. Merlin’s voice is fierce as it simply refutes the prospect.

“Sire, it won’t come to-”

Arthur lays a hand on his shoulder.

“It would mean a lot to me.”

And what can Merlin do then, but promise - and mean it:

“Anything, Arthur.”

The hand leaves his shoulder, but Arthur’s eyes stay fixed on him.

“Thank you, Merlin.”

And Merlin takes another oath - this one to himself. They’ll work it out. They’ll make it work. They will.

They both feel guilty for endangering the other more than they are worried about themselves *heavy sigh*

X. TRAINING (MERLIN POV)

Gaius is working on finishing Uther’s draught when ‘Arthur’ surprisingly comes in without knocking.

“Sire? Do you need-”

Merlin hasn’t prepared a speech on their way (how do you announce this anyway?) So he just blurts it out, as Arthur comes in after him and takes place at his side.

“We need your help, Gaius. Our bodies have been switched. (pointing to himself) Merlin. (pointing to his body) Arthur. We awoke like this this morning.”

Gaius looks stunned - of course. Then, for the shortest of times, he looks unconvinced; but this is after all Camelot, where strange things always happen, indeed - and not only Arthur would most probably have better things to do than playing along with Merlin’s pranks; but also Merlin wouldn’t have the heart to make *such* a prank to start with - not to him. So Gaius looks concerned now, gaze jumping with worry between Merlin and Arthur, holding Merlin’s eyes with a question in his eyes - and Merlin knows what’s worrying him.

Merlin can only give Gaius though a fragile smile to assure him that he is all right along with an apologetic look in return. He isn’t sure Arthur would want anyone else knowing about the magic too, so he will have to wait for a private occasion to explain everything to Gaius. For now, he just sticks to the plan.

“Arthur is expected to train soon, and we thought you could give us a way out of it. No one should be aware that Arthur isn’t Arthur until we’ve fixed this.”

Gaius doesn’t even hesitate.

“Of course (nodding to Merlin). I’ll go and tell you injured your sword arm (nodding to Arthur).”

Gaius goes out, mentioning coming back later to make Little Kathleen’s balm. Once the door closes, Arthur says he wonders what Merlin has in mind for 'training’. So Merlin decides he should help them both at once.

Merlin looks around for something basic, and his eyes light up when they fall on two bowls - not only basic but also potentially useful, if it works? He sets them on the table in front of Arthur: one stays empty, the other one get filled with water.

“Here. Try to make the water move into the other bowl.”

Arthur looks at the bowls, then at Merlin; incredulous.

“I’m not sure- I mean, even if I make this work, how am I supposed to put ourselves back into our bodies that way? How can I perform whatever must be performed if I am out of the performing body?”

“This is just a beginning, Sire. This is just a way to have you… feel your magic? Find it, and use it as you wish, when you wish. But if you need a valid reason, I promise this will be useful too, when you’ve mastered it.”

Arthur seems perplexed. Merlin confides, voice low as if sharing a secret: “We won’t have to disturb the fish anymore?”

Arthur is apparently too stressed out to even smile, sadly. But he gives Merlin a satisfied nod. “I’d better start trying then, huh.” A helpless sigh follows though. “Any hint about how to feel it to start with? Where to find it?”

Merlin hesitates. Not only because he wonders how much he can tell without Arthur realizing he knows too much, but also because he struggles about how to put into words what he has always simply felt. He has never had to search for it; it had always just been there. But maybe he can describe it by telling what he doesn’t feel, since he’s in Arthur’s body?

“Don’t search for 'where’. It’s not in one place; it’s everywhere. Not only in your body; literally everywhere - earth, air, water, fire. Like a… warm… tingling… flow? When you’ve found it, try to concentrate on it, focus on it, in order to direct it towards what you want - with your hands, your eyes, your voice; whatever works?”

Arthur’s brow has only deepened from the explanation, and Merlin can’t help but sigh:

“I’m sorry. It’s gibberish. I don’t know how to explain-”

“What you can’t know”, Arthur cuts him with a wave of his hand. “Of course. I have to find it on my own. Thank you for trying, at least?”

And so Arthur goes to sit at the table, facing the two bowls, while Merlin starts on the balm for Little Kathleen’s knee (hopefully for the last time, as her recovery seems to be going well, thanksfully) - both to feel useful and to give Arthur some kind of privacy. His moving around though must be disturbing, because Arthur switches place, turning his back to him. But it gives Merlin the freedom to check over his shoulders from time to time without risking to meet Arthur’s eyes.

This isn’t working though, Merlin can tell, by the time he’s done preparing Little Kathleen’s balm (he waits for Gaius to check if he got all doses and ingredients right though before finishing; he has only done it once) and a sleeping draught (for the guards guarding Kilgharra’s tunnel) (Gaius has had him prepare Morgana’s draught several times already, and has explained how to up the doses while keeping it safe): Arthur looks nothing but tensed, when he would need to be relaxed in order to feel… Trying too hard is nothing but counterproductive.

That’s when Merlin realizes he’s been going at it the wrong way. Arthur is not him. Arthur is *Arthur*. And when Arthur is at an impasse and needs a clear head? He trains. Activity helps him focus. Exhaustion helps him forget. To find his inner ground, Arthur must be physically busy; not sitting hunched over a table looking at two bowls.

Merlin eyes again his surroundings: spoons should work. Gaius has them in lots of size, both wood and metal. Merlin bundles them all in his tunic, and calls for Arthur as he passes in front of him.

“Let’s try something else. You can work on the water later on.”

Arthur’s eyes follow him questioningly up the stairs. Merlin sets his collection down, then holds a spoon up.

“Try to stop it from falling to the ground.”

Merlin let the spoon fall. It hits the ground, of course; but Arthur surely looks now interested by the new challenge. Merlin smiles, and lets another spoon fall.

After five rounds, Arthur gets up and gathers the spoons before handing them over to a crouching Merlin, instead of having Merlin going down, and up, and down, and up… A few rounds later still, Arthur picks up a spoon he has missed on his way and calls out for Merlin to catch it instead of walking back. Merlin misses it though, and it lands on his arm. And that’s when Merlin thinks his new idea can even be perfectioned.

He takes the offending spoon off the ground and holds it at the ready, eyeing Arthur, waiting for him to understand. And Arthur does, of course.

“Merlin? Are you threatening me with a spoon?”

Merlin grins wolfishly. He throws, and Arthur easily dodges, laughing.

“How long have you been waiting for such an opportunity?”

“Forever?” Merlin lies, before throwing another spoon, which Arthur blocks with an upraised arm.

Merlin can’t help but scowl: “You’re supposed to make the spoon divert its course; not block it or move out of its way.”

Arthur has actually the decency to look apologetic: “I know. Sorry. Reflexes.” Then he smirks. “But please, indulge yourself and do go on.”

And Merlin does. And it’s glorious somehow, how they are suddenly both intent and carefree, spoons clattering everywhere on both sides as Arthur now throws the spoons back to Merlin too. Hits land on both sides too, as they both throw quicker and harder.

At some point, the door opens and a spoon hits… Gaius.

“Sorry”, Merlin lets out, hurrying down to check he hasn’t hurt Gaius.

Gaius looks at the both of them with incomprehension, but Arthur explains even before Merlin has even opened his mouth.

“We’re actually working on something, Gaius; not destroying your chambers. (the slightest hesitation - but if Gaius is to be their ally then Arthur has decided he should know, well, everything, it seems) I have been jinxed too, on top of the body swap. It appears I have been given… magic; to be my doom - and well… Merlin’s body end.”

Gaius looks sort of disapprovingly to Merlin at the M word, but his gaze softens somehow, even though it turns outright anxious, as Arthur further explains his theory about their attacker’s plan.

“So, now you know it all, Gaius. And we also need your help for something more than giving me an excuse not to train… We need… information. I thought… You and Geoffrey go way back, right? Maybe you could persuade him to lend you a few special books?”

Gaius nods, eyeing Merlin.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Arthur nods back.

“In the meanwhile, I have to understand how it works, in order to prevent anyone finding it out until we’ve found a way to lift the spells?”

“Of course. Just let me take what’s necessary and I’ll leave you to it.”

Merlin then shows Gaius his previous work (safely tucked away in his room after the first round of spoons throwing - and yes, it also gives Merlin the opportunity to silently let Gaius know where his book is hidden, so that he will be able to retrieve it later on and present it to them as coming from Geoffrey or something). Gaius proudly tells he got everything right and gathers it all into a bowl.

“I can finish the balm in the kitchens. I’ll be back to bandage your arm though later on, Merlin; our Prince is supposed to be injured, and our King will want to check on his son right when he comes back from today’s hunt and hears about it.”

They start again where they had left, but nothing magical ever happens still, and after some time, Arthur exclaims in annoyance: “Maybe you should use knifes?”

And Merlin understands the logic; but Merlin just… can’t. He counters with an idea of his own.

“Maybe I should tie you up on a chair so that you can’t dodge them anymore?”

And Arthur gives a shrug… then goes to sit.

Merlin finds some rope and tie Arthur’s legs and chest to the chair. He hesitates, then tie only Arthur’s left hand behind the chair.

“In case it helps if you aim”, he explains.

Then Merlin is facing Arthur again. The spoons hit; one at a time. But Arthur glares at them - never at Merlin; and so Merlin goes on.

And then… (they’ve been going at it for so long that Merlin has stopped counting rounds) a spoon finally *stops*, mid-air, before simply falling vertically to the ground instead of keeping its course.

Merlin’s mouth falls open as Arthur keeps looking at his hand in wonder.

“Did you see-”

“Yes!” Merlin can’t help but shout happily.

Arthur meets his eyes, looking even more resolute than before.

“Again.”

Arthur doesn’t stop lots of spoons (yet, hopefully); but he regularly stops or redirects one.

And then, Arthur looks at his hand, and then at him, both in wonder.

“It *is* warm!”

And that’s definitely progress in the right direction, if Arthur has *felt* it.

The look they share is actually hopeful, for the first time since this began.

After some time, Merlin decides they should take a pause. Arthur still has to prepare him for tomorrow concil too, right?

So Merlin starts asking about what he should know for the coming concil right while untying Arthur’s legs.

“Will was definitely lucky to count you as a friend.”

Merlin’s eyes jump to Arthur’s in surprise; not only from the compliment, but also from the repeat mention of Will. Before today, Arthur had never mentioned Will, since they had left Ealdor.

Arthur doesn’t notice. Or - more probably - Arthur notices but goes on anyway; he is nothing but brave after all.

“I never had a friend, but I believe friends are supposed to help each other out, right? And well, you’re good at helping out, is all. And I know I have little to no right to talk about him; but I think you should know that I’m grateful, and that he has my respect, Merlin.”

Merlin is utterly speechless. Arthur has finally found, it seems, a way to shut him up. And to get him teary-eyed to boot. Merlin lowers his eyes to the ground.

“I believe he was a kind man. I mean- He must have been, of course - I don’t see you befriending someone cruel or-… But even taking only my own judgment into account? I suppose he could have probably done more harm than a whirlwind. But he didn’t. He wanted to defend, more than to attack; there is nothing malicious in that. It’s unfair his kindness caused his end though. Sometimes, maybe, it’s necessary to be the first to strike; even if you can never know how actually well-founded that decision then is; and you have to live with it.”

Merlin feels guilty, again. And angry. Does Arthur have to remind him that Will’s death is his fault? For all his magic? Merlin is indeed nothing but *useless*, indeed. He works on finishing to untie Arthur as quickly as he can.

Arthur must have read the inwards directed angry shake of his head for something else though, as he lets out a somewhat apologizing sigh.

“I realize I’m very biased, Merlin; because if he had used his powers in a harmful way? I would probably have been the first to accuse him of being a monster. (pause) But he hasn’t. And I haven’t searched for any magical powers - yet here I am.”

Another sigh; nothing but helpless this time. So Merlin *has* to look up. He has failed Will. He won’t fail again. He won’t fail Arthur. Arthur’s gaze is lost inward though.

“Sire”, Merlin pleads, hunting Arthur’s eyes then locking onto them.

Arthur fidgets; Merlin can’t help but note the oddity and rarity.

“I just- I realize this is the strangest thought to have while we are yet again under a sorcerer’s threat, but… Maybe not everything is always as black or white as I’ve been told all my life? Maybe not everyone with magic is actually evil? … Will? Me? … Again, maybe I’m only very biased. Because who knows then how many might have been wrongly punished- (a heavy sigh; wondering and remorseful this time, as Arthur shakes his head, apparently thinking about his Father’s deeds as his own - as he has allowed them to come to pass without opposition for so long…) But I *have* to believe that it’s possible to have magic without being corrupted by it. I mean… What if it sticks? Even after…”

“Arthur”, Merlin starts again as Arthur’s voice falters - even though Merlin still has no exact idea about what he wants to say; at least not in what order. Arthur’s genuine regrets and palpable fear are boring a hole right through his heart; just as Arthur’s words about Will and about magic (it is a step in the right direction; no matter how small) spread warmth through it too. Merlin’s possible soothing or grateful words in return all feel just tangled and messy and worthless and not enough and-

Arthur clears his throat, then softly exhales as he finally looks away: “I don’t really know what I’m trying to say, Merlin. Except… I’m glad you’re here?”

Maybe Merlin has conveyed what he couldn’t put into words through his eyes after all…

And then Arthur stands up, and his voice is back to his usual, assured tone.

“Now. One problem at a time, right? About the concil tomorrow…”

And Merlin listens, you bet.

So yep, yet another 'I’m glad you’re here’ (MY HEART). And spoons just had to be involved, indeed (I’m weak, blame 5.03)

XI. DESTINIES ARE TROUBLESOME THINGS (MERLIN POV)

Merlin can’t help but be on his guard. He has no idea, he realizes as he enters Kilgarrah’s cave after having successfully put to sleep the guards in front of it (after a shortened dinner with Uther and Morgana), about how the Great Dragon will react to a stranger’s presence in his lair.

But Merlin needs some guidance; and so, he calls out to him…

“Young warlock, what has happened to you?”

“You know it’s me?”

“Of course. Even though I am surprised indeed by your current appearance.”

“Arthur and I- Our bodies have been switched.”

The Great Dragon straightens up.

“So this is Uther’s heir’s body?”

“Yes. And I need - we need - help. Do you have any idea about how to reverse such a spell?”

“I do not have such knowledge. I can only tell you what you already know; that there is some very powerful magic at work here. (pause, tilting his head) But maybe you are not supposed to reverse it to start with.”

“Excuse me?”

“You are now *literally* two sides of a coin - both at once in the same body. Maybe this was the intent of the prophecy all along.”

(helpless, shocked sigh) “No.”

Merlin cannot believe his ears. But the idea is not only incongruous; it’s also outright enraging, and simply *impossible*.

“No”, Merlin repeats, firmly this time; a denial.

“You would throw away the opportunity to fulfill your destiny? You would carelessly discard the chance to bring forth the greatest time for Albion?”

Merlin doesn’t even flinch under the Dragon’s ire. *Arthur* is his destiny; and only Arthur. Albion’s welfare is in Arthur’s hands. And Arthur *will* be its greatest King; not Merlin. The notion only makes him sick. It’s not even about a possible guilt at cheating Arthur’s crown (which he doesn’t want to start with). It’s simply that Merlin wants - needs, and will not (and never) accept anything less - Arthur to be Arthur, intrinsically. Besides, Merlin knows the burden of pretending already; and he wouldn’t wish for anyone, and certainly not for Arthur, to have to shoulder it too. How can Kilgarrah not realise any of it?

“This just cannot be the way. It only feels wrong.”

“You should at least think about it, Merlin.”

“It is all decided. I cannot and will not abide to the belief that this masquerade could ever be our true fate. And if you don’t - can’t or won’t - help, we’ll look for a solution on our own - no matter how long it might take.”

They hold each other’s gaze; and Merlin won’t relent.

“I can only hope you will not come to regret your choice, young warlock”, Kilgarrah finally says as he flies away.

Merlin is still fuming as he enters Arthur’s chambers.

His fingers itch, longing to search through his spells book. He hasn’t had yet the opportunity - between being a Prince taking most of his day, and Arthur being at his side when he had been off duty. Unfortunately, it will have to wait until tomorrow - it would look suspicious if he went out in the night.

So. He should rest. After all, a clear mind will be necessary in the morning, both for council and for finding a way to break the spell they’re under, right?

Only looking at the bed though makes Merlin’s entrails twitch in disgust. This is wrong indeed; and will never feel otherwise. And no matter how comfortable that bed is, Merlin now knows (he might grow understanding of Arthur’s lack of will to leave it on some mornings from now on, huh), you bet he will never even contemplate sleeping in it.

Merlin makes his bed for the night on the floor, wondering if Arthur has been able to fall asleep yet.

Bear with me. The Dragonlord bond is an intrinsic link between souls, which is why it isn’t affected by the body swap. Whereas magic inhabits everything it’s in, and is therefore by nature anchored in physicallity. It explains too somehow why magic in general can be learned/found, but that the Dragonlord bond can only be inherited. Oh well, it makes sense in my head, at least…

Also :( I’ve really hurt myself with Kilgarrah’s last line :( Because of course Merlin *will* wonder about this, *for centuries*, later on (my heart:(). Anyone willing to hold me while I cry, pretty please?

XII. SOMETIMES, YOU PUZZLE ME (ARTHUR POV)

“Sire, you should rest.”

“Just a little bit longer, Gaius. Until the candles are out.”

“As you wish.”

A respectful bow; then Gaius is on his way to Merlin’s room, giving Arthur space and quiet - and only when the door closes does Arthur realize that he just kicked an old man out of his own bed?

Well, let it be worth it then, right! Arthur closes his eyes, breathing deeply, trying to connect with the magic inside. He actually feels it, now that he knows what to search for. He has no idea still though about how to have it work, apparently…

He can’t help but wonder briefly if Merlin has been able to fall asleep yet, before concentrating again on that damn water…

Arthur awakes, wincing, still at the table. Gaius has left bread and jam out for him, and he hastily eats before running out to help Merlin prepare (both physically and mentally) for concil. It is still earlier than he thought it was it seems, luckily. The kitcheners have just begun their work; Gaius does prefer to pick herbs in the early morning indeed. Arthur takes some bread and jam for Merlin, as little else is ready yet, and makes for his chambers.

When he gets in, Merlin is putting his clothes on. He is nearly finished; only the tunic and the coat are still laid out on the already made bed. Arthur approaches to help him with fastening the ties, and so notices the spread-out covers and pillows on the floor behind the bed.

“Merlin? Did you actually sleep on the floor?”

“Well, that bed of yours is way too soft”, Merlin retorts (even though Arthur DID see him getting out of said bed just the morning before: it hadn’t been too soft apparently, when Merlin hadn’t known it was Arthur’s, huh…), trying to cover his embarassment before walking out, heading for the stream. And Arthur has no choice but to follow, shaking his head while wondering if there would ever come a day when Merlin would stop astonish him…

After having left Merlin at the concil’s door, Arthur gets back to his bowls and water.

He has no progress to show though still when Merlin comes in and gives him a very detailed summary of what has been discussed. Arthur is thankful - even though he hasn’t doubted Merlin’s capacities (Merlin acting like an idiot or being clueless about etiquette doesn’t mean Merlin isn’t clever, indeed).

Then Merlin takes up the spoons, and helps Arthur train more actively about his magic again. They are both pleased to discover that Arthur is now able to divert about a third of the projectiles.

“Why am I getting better with the spoons and not making any progress with the water?”, Arthur wonders aloud.

“I am certain you will figure it out, Sire”, Merlin only has time to pledge as Gaius walks in, holding out a book and placing it on the table - which definitely ends the spoons training as Arthur and Merlin come to gather around it.

Gaius and Merlin seem to be waiting for his cue, so Arthur is the one to open the book, feeling both hopeful (this book might contains the answer to their predicament!) and worried (what if this book is simply full of evil?).

Arthur starts to read silently, both cautious about eventual passers-by overhearing and unwilling to invoke any probable further disaster on themselves by reading what could be spells aloud, a finger tracing along the opening line.

“Magic is potential, and possibilities. Its use is a choice, and a responsability”, Merlin whispers, echoing what Arthur is reading.

Arthur is stunned, and can’t help but blurt out in disbelief, turning his attention on Merlin:

“You know how to read?”

Merlin only shrugs.

“Sure I do. My mother taught me, along with the other kids from Ealdor. You know, the fact that it surprises you that a peasant can read probably says more about Camelot’s rampant illiteracy than about me?”

And Arthur can only admit it’s true:

“You’re right. We should probably ask Geoffrey to organize something about it.”

Then Arthur points at the book:

“But of course you may read along; it concerns you too. It might be safer though not to read aloud, you know…” (gesturing around, waving a hand)

“I can do that too”, Merlin assures.

So Arthur sits down on the bench, motioning for Merlin to do the same next to him. Gaius sits on the opposite bench - ready to give advice or help if needed; or ensuring they do not damage the book before it gets returned to the vaults?

They read further in silence, two pairs of eyes following the path of Arthur’s finger.

Arthur quickly realizes though that the first part of the book focuses on magical creatures, and skips through it - it might be handy, but it’s not what they need at the moment (he can’t refrain from briefly pausing though passing by the unicorns page)…

Then they reach the spells section, and Arthur turns tense.

And rightly.

When he understands what the first spell is about, he can’t help but shout out, pushing the book away:

“This is what Valiant did! How can we trust this book of tricks?” - this is nothing but evil indeed.

Of course Merlin just HAD to read that opening line aloud while in Arthur’s presence, huh…

XIII. PROGRESS (ALTERNATE MERLIN/ARTHUR POV)

“This is what Valiant did! How can we trust this book of tricks?”

There is fire in Arthur’s eyes - an anger at Valiant’s deeds that Merlin doesn’t wish to see grow blinding. Gaius gives Merlin a look, and Merlin understands that Gaius wants to be the one explaining - to protect him, surely. Merlin signals ‘no’; but Gaius is speaking anyway before Merlin has even opened his mouth.

“Sire, Valiant’s actions were definitely condemnable indeed; but the book is not to blame. It simply explains how to animate figures - it doesn’t tell *why* the spell should be used; that intent is entirely the responsability of the one using the spell. So yes, Valiant used such a spell to kill; but such a spell can be used to save or help too; can be useful and good.”

Arthur doesn’t seem convinced at all, judging by the growling tone in his voice:

“How could such a spell ever be used for good?”

Let’s say you need to animate snakes out of a shield at your will to confound an evil man and save a noble one; Merlin thinks but does not say, pleading Gaius to let him deal further with Arthur’s ire. Merlin has often pondered of course, even if with little success, about the best way to explain it all to Arthur. But he realizes, suddenly, that using Arthur’s own words and opinions might be the most helpful in that regard.

“Remember what you told me, Sire; about Will? So. Having magic is *not* having a weapon. It’s simply having *a tool*. You can use an axe to build a shelter or to break down a door - and even then, you might only be breaking that door to save blocked-in people from fire. You can use a shovel to plant an apple tree or to dig a grave - and even then, it might be out of respect and love, in another culture. The axe or the shovel have nothing to say about why they are used for. In the end, maybe, the only thing magic actually reveals is what’s truly in one’s heart.”

This approach works better, apparently. Palpable facts he experienced himself weigh more than rethorical theories in Arthur’s thoughts process. Arthur tilts his head, actually considering now, instead of refusing it all at once.

“So. This spell? Let’s say you badly injure yourself while alone and away, and you conjure a horse to carry you back home quickly enough to be saved? Let’s say a child is crying and you create a butterfly or something, to bring up a smile?”

“A butterfly, Merlin?”

Arthur looks incredulous but sounds, if anything, teasing - which Merlin interprets as a sign of progress, a smile growing on his face. He only shrugs though, playing along.

“What’s wrong with a butterfly?”

“Nothing, I guess, indeed. Let’s go on then.”

They read further for about an hour, Gaius preparing potions behind them. Arthur never shouts out again, but expectantly looks at Merlin on the few occasions he apparently feels like he might maybe be missing the whole picture. And Merlin just goes with it; the surprised yet somehow satisfied glow in Arthur’s eyes each time in some way worth the risk of possibly divulging too much…

Until dinner time comes, and Merlin has to go. He takes his leave, telling Arthur he should read on. Arthur’s answer leaves him breathless.

“I’d probably see things only one way on my own; who knows what I’ll miss… I’d rather bring the book to my chambers while you eat, and you can read further later. Besides, I should work on my water, you know… Be ready for it, in case you find something.”

Merlin can only nod, speechless from Arthur’s obvious trust.

As he opens the door, Arthur surprises him yet again, talking to his back: “And just so you know, I wouldn’t put you in the stocks for sleeping in my bed while you’re, well, me. What would the guards think if they saw me sleeping on the ground? ”

The tone is more gentle than gloating, and Merlin feels warmed up as he realizes Arthur is being simply honest. It doesn’t change his view on the matter though.

“I told you, Sire; I do not find your bed comfortable to start with.”

He doesn’t dare to look at Arthur as he walks out.

Gaius has proposed to bring the book to his chambers. He said he had to bring Morgana her sleeping draught anyway; but Arthur couldn’t help but sense that there was more to it - maybe he’d rather not have 'Merlin’ seen with such a book, maybe Geoffrey has made him sworn an oath to never let it out of his sight… Anyway, Arthur doesn’t have it in his heart to deny Gaius the demand.

Once alone, Arthur sits again in front of his two bowls. He closes his eyes, reaching *inside*.

It’s a tool. He tells himself when he senses the flow. Not a weapon.

There had been something in the way Merlin had talked. It had sometimes felt more like mentioning actual events than thinking aloud (Had Will ever performed any of the spells they read about?); especially - even though surprisingly - about…

It’s harmless. Merlin says it can be used to make butterflies.

Arthur takes a deep breath; focuses - visualizing in his head what he wishes to achieve.

When Arthur opens his eyes, the water has switched bowl.

Arthur blinks.

Then a loud “Yes” echoes in the room.

Arthur makes several times the water switch from bowl; then the books on the shelves from order (size, alphabetical, themes (as it was originally)) - he doesn’t dare mess with Gaius’s ingredients though, of course. At some point, he eyes the chamberpot and tests it too, like Merlin had mentioned they could once Arthur would have gotten how to. And indeed, it works too! Arthur can’t help but feel proud, trying to imagine the look on Merlin’s face come morning…

Then Arthur realizes maybe they do not have to be under the spell to start with any longer! What if he can just wish it away? Sadly, though, it doesn’t work; no matter how much nor how hard Arthur tries. Feeling a bit defeated now, even though he knows he definitely booked progress, Arthur decides he should go to sleep. With any luck, he might need all his energy tomorrow, if tonight turns out to be as fortunate for Merlin as it has been to him…

Gaius hasn’t come back yet - he probably stayed with Merlin to study the book; after all, as Court Physician, no one would question how long he stayed by his injured Prince… Arthur opens the door to Merlin’s bedroom - he doesn’t intend to keep Gaius out of his own bed tonight too…

As soon as possible, Merlin excuses himself from Uther’s and Morgana’s company to get to his book.

Since Gaius has given it to him, he hasn’t really had time to study it - mostly, he’s called forth through his magic the necessary spell or information when he needed any. He hopes though that the book will help them again, as it has in the past, and that he will find something useful in the over two thirds of the spells section he hasn’t read yet…

It’s late into the night when Merlin’s heart skip a beat. A spell-breaking spell? This might work, right! After all, one doesn’t have to reverse a spell to have it undone! Merlin rereads the pages again, and wishes the morning to hurry in order to show his finding to Arthur and Gaius.

Arthur saw magic as a weapon, of course. Which was sort of getting in the way of having his magic work for more than blocking the spoons attacks, because he felt still somehow that he *shouldn’t* use it, no matter the need to use it to fix their problem. But now that Merlin has had him understand, at least for a while, that it isn’t by definition a weapon, Arthur somehow feels like it is all right to use it. Which is why it works this time? It makes sense in my head, at least?

And imo Merlin wound’t link magic to a weapon both because he wants to unmake that precise link existing already in Arthur’s mind; but mostly because, well, he doesn’t see it that way - HE USES IT TO MAKE BUTTERFLIES, RIGHT (and I love him for it, HUGE sigh…)

XIV. THE SPELL (ARTHUR POV)

Arthur reads the pages Merlin just put under his nose with the utmost attention. A spell to break any spell? That sounds promising indeed!

Arthur can’t help but worry though, as he realizes that the primary condition for the spell to work is that the enchanted person(s) has to be truly, entirely, honestly willing to see the spell lifted for it to work (AN: which explains why Merlin cannot use that spell later on whenever Arthur is bewitched by the way…). And it is not about Merlin (positively-glowing-from-hope-right-now Merlin, sleeping-on-the-floor Merlin) Arthur has doubts about; it is about himself.

The truth, Arthur realizes with a shock, is that he likes it now, somehow - having magic!? Since Merlin told he saw it as a tool - not a weapon; and since Arthur has been proven that he could master his new abilities? Arthur has started considering apparently, at the back of his head, how it could turn out handy, how it could turn out good, for his people? What if he could multiply crops on bad years, ensuring no one would starve that winter? What if he could protect the borders, ensuring no one with ill intent could pass? *What if he could*- And that? That is the most dangerous, treacherous thought Arthur could ever have. Not only because it would be ill advised to rely on something that might disappear just as quickly as it has appeared to start with, but because the fact that he feels *tempted* to use it at all might be a signal of its luring, corrupting qualities. Who knows what he might get tempted to use it for, in time? Will there even come a limit? And that is what frightens Arthur the most - to succumb to its call. It would start with a genuine heart, but who could know how so much power might ever alter his first intentions?

So. No; indeed. He mustn’t entertain those thoughts. He should use magic to fix their current situation, and he will, simply because it is the only way to fix it to start it; but it would be for the best if it just disappeared along with it the moment their problem is solved. Besides, he owes it to Merlin, right. Because what if the magic stayed in Merlin’s body, instead of staying with his mind after they get back into their own bodies anyway? He would never wish to see such a risk, and a burden, on Merlin’s shoulders - particularly as he would know he would be responsible for it…

Arthur takes a deep breath, letting go of what could be, to focus on wishing for what must be.

The preparations are quite quick - Gaius already has everything they need in stock. It’s merely a mix of relaxing herbs, Merlin says as he aligns several pots of herbs in front of Arthur, that Arthur will have to crush into his hands. If anything, it smells nice, Arthur can’t help but notice with satisfaction. Somehow, the fact that it isn’t nauseous makes it feel not-evil.

The incantation is more tricky. It’s about six lines of text Arthur has to memorize and chant; and most of the words Arthur has never heard, so… Again, why can’t he simply wish for the spell to disappear - like with the water? Merlin explains that Arthur has to make the words his own while focusing on what he wishes - because it’s not only about working his own magic but also about lifting their attacker’s magic control on their bodies (even though it’s all a bit unclear whether the words of the spell are actually what makes it happens, or if they only help him achieve a certain level of inner focus that makes it happens - but Merlin might not know everything anyway, and whatever the reason, Arthur just HAS to master the incantation then anyway.)

It doesn’t seem to work, though. Hours later, and still nothing has changed; no matter how often Arthur has recited the spell nor the amount of herbs he has crushed into his hands. It’s not only frustrating and disheartening - it’s simply infuriating: Merlin and him were both so hopeful this might be it!

“It will work. *You* will make it work, Sire,” Merlin swears, voice steady, clear eyes unwavering, each time Arthur starts again.

Arthur closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and tries again. He owes it to Merlin’s faith in him to keep trying.

And then, suddenly, it’s done. Arthur has no idea what finally did it but he knows it’s done: he hears HIS voice chanting as Merlin gasps. And when Arthur opens his eyes, he sees Merlin, and not his own body. And the crazy thing? For a split second, it feels weird.

“This is real, right?” Arthur can’t help but ask, still in disbelief.

“I told you you’ll do it,” Merlin answers, beaming at him - proud of him, even.

They exchange a winning grin. Then Arthur howls.

The surge of victory and relief ends quickly though, replaced by crushing worry.

“Do you feel any different, Merlin?”, Arthur has to ask, as he doesn’t feel any warm tingling when searching inward. He is relieved to feel free from it; but not if the cost is that Merlin is tied to it now.

Merlin blanches, most probably from realizing the danger he could be in, and doesn’t answer right away - which is good, because it means that Merlin is actually doing an internal thorough check; but the silence is simply excruciating.

“Please tell me it’s gone,” Arthur can’t help but whisper, as if speaking the words could make it truth, even knowing he’s lost any ability to make it so.

#merlin #merthur #bbcmerlin #bbc merlin #merthur fic #merlin fic #my own two spells #the body swap #the once and future fic #text #fic #fanfic #complete

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magicalmischel · 7 years

Text

Magic Flames

CHAPTER 7 - All Problems Solved But One

The throne room was cold and empty. Only the king, Uther Pendragon, was sitting on his throne, his fist supporting his chin, with a tired and sad expression on his face. He almost killed his best friend and then he lost his only two children. Even though Arthur was the cause of Ygraine's death, he still loved his son dearly and with all his heart, as every father should. He never talked about Arthur's mother, though. It hurt too much.

And he never told Morgana that Gorlois wasn't her real father. He, the king Uther Pendragon, was. Morgana was his daughter. She was the rightful heir to the throne if Arthur died. Blood of Pendragons was flowing through her veins and she didn't even know.

The king sighed and closed his eyes, the crown too heavy on his head all of a sudden. All he had to do was wait for someone to return with a message or at least an inkling to where Arthur and Morgana could have gone. And the waiting was killing him.

Suddenly the huge doors opened and the king raised his head. It was his most loyal knight, Sir Leon, with his searching party. He bowed his head and clasped his hands together behind his back.

"My lord," he started and looked up. "I'm afraid we didn't find your son, sire. Nor lady Morgana." The knight said and took a tiny step back. Everybody feared the wrath of Uther Pendragon.

"Are you telling me that even the best knights of Camelot couldn't find one man and woman?" Uther said and stood up.

Leon looked down again. "I'm sorry, my lord, we've been tryin-"

"I don't care that you've been useless so far!" Uther yelled. "Bring me my son and my ward back! Don't return until you find them!" He said and waved his hand. "You're dismissed."

Leon bowed his head again and turned around with all the knights to leave. But then the doors opened once again, and this time it wasn't a searching party who came it.

It was Arthur.

And Merlin with Gwen, right behind him.

"Arthur?" Uther said and took a step forward.

"It's me, father." Arthur smiled and the king immediately went to his son to give him a short hug. He smiled as Arthur hugged him back and then he pulled away, keeping his hand on his son's shoulder.

"What happened? Where have you been?" Uther asked. "I sent searching parties after you and Morgana, but they didn't find anything." He said. Then he looked around and saw Merlin and Gwen, standing there and smiling. The king's smile faded. "Guards," he said and pointed at the servant and maid. "Seize them." He ordered.

Arthur turned around quickly. "No, no, father, it's alright!" He said hurriedly. "It's not their fault, they're innocent!" He tried to explain, but the guards were already holding Merlin and Gwen.

"They kidnapped you and freed a sorcerer!" Uther said, looking at Merlin and Gwen with hatred in his eyes. "Aredian was right, the boy is a sorcerer." He said.

"No, father!" Arthur yelled. "It's all just a misunderstanding, I was not kidnapped!" He said and for the first time it seemed the king was listening as he looked straight at Arthur.

"Then what happened?" He asked him.

"Um, I... I went for a hunt!" Arthur lied. He forgot to prepare for this. "And after Gaius disappeared, I just had to go clear my head, so I went for a hunt and took Merlin and Gwen with me, and I'm sorry I didn't say anything, but I needed to... to be alone. Just for one night." He said. God, even Merlin could lie better, and Arthur actually believed him and thought he was just an idiot. But maybe his father will believe him.

Uther narrowed his eyes and looked at Arthur and then at Gwen with Merlin, who didn't even dare to move. "Is this true?" He asked, looking at Merlin.

Merlin started nodding immediately, maybe even too quickly. "Yes, my lord." He answered. "We went hunting and then we camped in the woods, and-"

"Arthur?" Uther rolled his eyes. He didn't have to listen to that Arthur's simpleton with a mental affliction.

"It's true," Arthur said, looking into his father's eyes. "I swear."

"Alright," Uther looked at Leon and two other knights, who were holding Merlin and Gwen. "Let them go." He ordered. The knights obeyed.

"You," Uther then pointed at Gwen.

"Yes, my lord?" She bowed, scared of what the king wanted to say or do.

"Is it true that you saw Morgana performing magic?" He asked. Gwen frowned and looked at her king.

"No, my lord." She said. "I haven't seen anything, lady Morgana doesn't have magic." She said. Why did he ask?

"So Aredian lied." Uther said.

"That's why we're here." Merlin said then and Uther looked at him. After he nodded, Merlin continued. "We have a proof that Gaius is innocent." He said.

"That's true, father." Arthur said. "We wish to have an audience with you." He continued then. "We have a witness."

"Very well." He nodded. "I'll make an audience, but where is Morgana?" He asked then, looking around the throne room.

"I don't know." Arthur answered, looking at his father. "I thought she was in the castle, with you." He added.

"She was, but then someone kidnapped her, yesterday before midnight." He told his son. "We have to find her."

"I'll go looking for her." Arthur said. "But first we need to have the audience. Aredian's behind all of this, he's been lying to us since the very beginning."

Uther wasn't sure what to believe anymore, so he just nodded. "Bring me your witness." He said. "And the Witchfinder!" Arthur went to Leon and told him their witness' name. Then Leon and all the other knights left the room, leaving Merlin with Gwen and Arthur with Uther alone in the big cold throne room.

xoXOXox

Not even twenty minutes later, the doors opened again and Aredian entered the room. He bowed and suspiciously looked at Arthur and the two servants, standing in the corner of the room. Then he went straight to the king, and stopped when he was next to him, waiting for whoever was supposed to enter the throne room next.

The knights went in with all of Aredian's witnesses. The three girls looked around the room, and bowed in front of their king. Then the seller bowed as well, and went closer to Uther. Arthur stood next to him and Merlin reached to his pocket, where he had the Belladonna flower petals. They needed proof and they had one. Merlin even prepared some extra help in Aredian's chambers.

Once everyone was in their right places and it was quiet, Uther looked at Merlin and nodded. "Speak." He said.

"Sire," Merlin started. "The witnesses saw nothing but hallucinations," he looked at Aredian, who dangerously looked back. Merlin swallowed and continued. "Induced by the Belladonna and these eye drops." He said and looked at the seller. He gave him the eye drops and Merlin handed them to Uther.

"And you bought this Belladonna from this man?" The king asked and looked at the three girls. They all nodded and Merlin smiled a bit. They were right! "Where did you get it from?" Uther asked then and looked at the seller.

The man looked around the room hesitantly and Uther said, "don't be afraid. No harm will come to you here."

"The witchfinder," the man finally admitted and Merlin looked at Uther and then at Aredian. "He gave them to me," the man continued.

"Did he tell you what it was for?" Uther asked.

"No." Was the answer. "Only that if I did not sell it, he'd have me burnt at the stake."

Uther turned to Aredian. "How do you answer to these accusations?"

"They are absurd." The witchfinder simply said, looked at Uther and then at Merlin again. "The boy has clearly concocted these lies in the hope of saving his master."

"Then you won't mind if we search your chambers." Merlin said.

"Silence!" Uther yelled at him as Arthur rolled his eyes at Merlin's stupidity. "You have no authority here!"

"Father," Arthur said and went to his servant. "Let's settle this once and for all. If what Merlin, Gwen and I say is wrong, then we must bear the consequences." He said and looked Merlin in the eye. Merlin looked back and then they both looked at their king. "But if there is some truth in what we say..."

"I have nothing to hide." Aredian said then.

Merlin and Arthur smiled and looked at each other. This plan was going to work and they were finally going to save Gaius. Merlin looked at Aredian then and noticed that he seemed a bit nervous, after they left the throne room.

The closer they were to his chambers, the more nervous he looked, but he evidently tried to look completely normal. He said he had nothing to hide after all. If only he knew what had Merlin prepared for him in his little cupboard.

Merlin chuckled slightly and Arthur looked at him, but he just shrugged and smiled at him. Arthur smiled back and then they finally reached the door to Aredian's chambers.

The knights went in, and immediately started searching through his things. Just like Merlin and Arthur did a few hours ago, only a little louder. They searched everywhere. Behind the curtain, under the bed, through his books...

"You're wasting your time," Aredian said, but it was pointless.

"the cupboard over there." Arthur told one of the knights and pointed to the cupboard where he and Merlin found the Belladonna earlier. Merlin smirked, knowing what would come next.

And then it happened. As soon as the knight opened the cupboard, he had to step aside because it was full of magical bracelets. There were dozens of them, all falling on the floor from the little cupboard.

Both Uther's and Aredian's eyes widened, but that wasn't everything yet. Under the bracelets was so many bottles of Belladonna eye drops, that it almost made you wonder how exactly did it all fit in there.

"These things don't belong to me!" Aredian hurriedly said and went to the cupboard. "This is a trick!" He said as he kicked the bracelets on the floor. Then he started coughing and Merlin reached his hand to tug at Arthur's sleeve. Arthur looked at him and Merlin nodded in Aredian's direction. Arthur frowned a little and looked at the Witchfinder, then he unsheathed his sword.

"The boy plots against me!" Aredian yelled, but the coughing worsened and stopped him. He gripped his chair tight and bowed, coughing violently. Everybody took a step back, and then Aredian's mouth opened.

Something green appeared there and it jumped out of his mouth. It was a toad and it croaked as soon as it touched the floor. Aredian covered his mouth with his hand, stepping back.

"Sorcerer!" Uther said and finally unsheathed his sword, pointing it at Aredian. But the witchfinder quickly took a dagger he had on his belt and pointed it at Arthur. He moved his hand behind his head, apparently wanting to throw it at the prince. Merlin quickly mumbled something under his breath, and a little vase shifted on the floor, right behind Aredian's feet.

He fell over before he managed to throw the dagger and fell out of the window. All they heard was the noise of his body as it hit the ground below.

As soon as it happened, Arthur threw his hands around Merlin and pulled him as close as possible. He completely forgot about his father and the knights around him and even that he wasn't supposed to show his feelings to anyone, even to Merlin. He himself wasn't sure what he was feeling yet, but he had an inkling. And when Merlin returned the hug, smiling from ear to ear, he was almost sure that this was supposed to be their moment because hell, they saved Gaius and he was happy!

"Arthur!" His father said and Arthur immediately snapped back to reality. What the hell just happened?

"Yes, father?" He asked. He shouldn't have hugged Merlin in front of so many people. Even Gwen. Yes, the whole Camelot knew they were close, but Merlin was still just a servant. He just hoped Uther would choose to ignore it, given the circumstances.

"Go, find Morgana and Gaius and bring them back to Camelot." Uther said, and Arthur nodded and sighed in relief. That was until his father looked at Merlin dangerously.

"I will," Arthur hurriedly said so his father looked at him instead of his friend. Then Arthur looked at Merlin and Gwen, and they all left Aredian's former chambers.

"Okay. Merlin?" Arthur turned to his servant, who was still smiling for some unknown reason. "Go prepare the horses, we'll set off immediately." Merlin nodded and ran away, down the stairs to the stables.

"I'll go to Morgana's chambers to prepare it for her return." Gwen smiled at Arthur and he smiled back and nodded. Then she left, and Arthur found himself alone in the hall. He looked after Gwen as she disappeared around the corner and bowed his head. He knew how did he feel about Gwen. He knew he loved her, but had he really a chance with her? He knew she was in love with Lancelot. And even though Lancelot left, it didn't mean he wouldn't come back.

And he knew he felt something for Merlin, too. But was it really... love? Was it stronger than what he felt for Gwen? He knew what he felt when he hugged Merlin a few minutes ago. He really didn't know why it happened, but it felt nice.

When he hugged Merlin... all the problems seemed to disappear. As if Merlin somehow made him feel whole, complete. And he didn't know if he would be able to live like this, without holding Merlin in his arms. One thing he knew for sure. He couldn't stay just friends with him.

What he felt... it was somehow stronger than everything in the world. And he couldn't ignore it anymore, he just couldn't. But should he tell Merlin about this? Should he tell him or wait until he was absolutely sure that what he felt was... romantic? He's never thought about this, but what if it was romantic? How did he feel about... kissing Merlin?

Did it feel alright, or disgusting, or like the best idea in the world? Arthur didn't know. But he knew one thing. He'll have the entire ride back to Morgana and Gaius to think about it, and Merlin will be right next to him. He wouldn't tell him anything about this of course, but he'll be able to think about it.

Arthur shook his head and finally started walking down the hall, to the stables. He knew Merlin would be already waiting for him there, and to be honest, he couldn't wait to see his face again. Even those few minutes without him felt like hours.

As soon as he went to the courtyard, he saw Merlin patting one of the horses. He was smiling, touching the horse's hair and the way the sun shone on Merlin's dark hair, making his eyes sparkle made Arthur shiver.

He cleared his throat and was rewarded with the world's most beautiful smile. He smiled back and went to his servant, unconsciously putting his hand on his shoulder. "Ready?" He asked and Merlin nodded.

"Ready," he answered.

"Then let's go." Arthur smiled and mounted his horse, waiting for Merlin to do the same before he turned towards the gates and urged his horse to move.

They galloped quickly until they were in the forest. Then they slowed down because they knew exactly where Morgana with Gaius were, and they couldn't just return so soon with them when the searching party looked for them since yesterday and found nothing.

The slow ride made Arthur realize how quiet it was out there. He looked at Merlin, the usual source of all pointless talking, and found out the boy was looking at the trees around them and at the sun's rays shining through the leaves, with a smile on his face. Did Merlin really enjoy nature so much?

"You look like an idiot." Arthur commented and looked away. Merlin didn't even look at Arthur as he answered.

"You look much worse, and do I complain? No." He smirked. Arthur laughed.

"Yes, you do, Merlin. You complain all the time, mostly about everything." He said, smiling.

"Okay, then why did you hug me?" He asked, finally looking at Arthur, smirking. Arthur glanced at him.

"So you complain about it?" Arthur asked.

"Um, n-no, I just, no," Merlin stuttered and blushed, making Arthur laughed. He knew this would happen. "Then w-why did you, huh?" Merlin asked again.

Arthur just shrugged. "I didn't." He answered and sped up.

"But- but Arthur!" Merlin sped up too, and rode after Arthur. The prince could be unbelievably annoying sometimes. But that didn't matter. Arthur hugged Merlin and Merlin was glad he did. He loved hugging Arthur, he felt safe in his arms. But he also knew that when Arthur hugged someone, it was very rare. Almost impossible.

And knowing that Merlin was one of those few lucky people (or maybe the only one) who got to know what was hugging Arthur like, made him feel very happy and special.

"Well, at least we saved Gaius." Merlin smiled as he finally rode next to Arthur again. The prince just nodded. "Can you hug me again?" Merlin teased.

"Merlin," Arthur warned, but there was something about the way he said it that made Merlin doubt Arthur was serious. Maybe he wanted another hug, too? "And what about the bracelets, hm?" Arthur asked then.

"Um, as I said. I just made sure our plan was worth it." Merlin answered.

"And the toad?" Arthur laughed. "Honestly that was a step too far, Merlin." He said, but Merlin just laughed.

"I know, I know, but at least it worked!"

"I don't know, Merlin." Arthur said. "If every time we're in danger you solve things like that, I can't believe I'm still alive." He laughed.

"Well, you should believe it." Merlin smiled. "Just... don't die any time soon, okay?" Merlin suddenly changed the expression and everything was more serious. Arthur noticed this just from the tone Merlin used. He looked at the young warlock and frowned slightly.

"Do you... do you really care so much?" Arthur asked. And this time he wanted Merlin to be honest. The warlock looked at Arthur and nodded.

"I do." He answered. And then he went silent.

That made Arthur think about a lot of things. If Merlin truly cared so much about him, was the romantic relationship between them possible? Did Merlin mean all of this just in a friendly way, or did he mean something more?

Arthur shook his head and looked over at Merlin again. He knew that even if Merlin didn't feel the same way, he would never be able to find anyone in this world who would make him feel the same way as Merlin did. Every time he looked at him, the world was brighter and life was happier. And there was no one, not even Gwen, who would be able to replace Merlin and make Arthur feel that way. No one on this whole Earth.

After two hours, they finally made it to the cave. They dismounted and went straight to Morgana and Gaius. They were still inside, both sitting by the fire, talking about something funny, judging by the fact they were both laughing.

"What's so funny?" Merlin asked as he approached them.

"Oh, nothing." Morgana laughed as she looked at Merlin. "Gaius was just telling me about your very tragic magic failures." Morgana said and Merlin turned red as everyone started laughing.

"Gaius!" Merlin hissed. "No one was supposed to know about that!" He complained as Morgana laughed again.

"You never told me it was a secret!" Gaius said. "Besides, Morgana already knows about your magic." He smiled and Merlin rubbed his eyes, looking down, embarrassed.

"Unbelievable." He mumbled.

Arthur smiled and looked at Gaius. "Gaius, good news!" He said. "You and Morgana can both return to Camelot, Aredian's dead." He said.

"That's amazing!" Morgana said and gave Gaius a hug. Then she went over to Merlin and Arthur and hugged them both at the same time, putting her arms around their necks. "Thank you!" She smiled as she purposely made them stand closer to each other.

Then she let them go, smiling at them and at Gaius. Merlin and Arthur stepped away from each other a bit, both clearing their throats at the same time. How many awkward moments will they have to suffer through until they both realize they're supposed to be together? It's two sides of the same coin for a reason, Jesus.

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

GO BACK / chapter 6 / chapter 8

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