Merlin Takes No Shits AU (crack)
Enemy of the Week: Hah! What can a filthy, pathetic, lowly servant like you possibly do without the protection of your prince?
Merlin:
Merlin:
Merlin: Hasta fucking la vista, bitch (shitty fireball cgi)
---
Gaius: What were you thinking?! The king could have sentenced you to death! Have you any sense of self-preservation, boy?
Merlin: No
Gaius: ...And?
Merlin: ???
Gaius: Do you have anything to say for yourself?
Merlin: Nah lol
---
Arthur: Tell me, Merlin, do you know how to walk on your knees?
Merlin: ...Are you propositioning me?
Arthur: (wide eyes) (blush)
Arthur: You—Of course not! What is wrong with you?
Merlin: Cause if you were, I wouldn't turn your offer down. (easy smirk)
Arthur: (jaw drop)
Merlin: See you around, stranger.
[Silence as Merlin strides away]
Arthur: (shouts) I am the prince. You can't just walk away from me!
[Merlin waves without looking back]
---
[Merlin enters the Dragon's cave for the first time.]
Khilgharrah: How small you are for such—
Merlin: Can you, for the love of the Gods, shut up with the mindspeak? I'm trying to sleep.
Khilgharrah: (shocked)
Merlin: thx (leaves)
---
Merlin: (mutters) dayum shawty thy bumcheeks should be illegal
Arthur: (who's not deaf) WHAT?
Merlin: what
---
Uther: [hate speech about sorcerers]
Merlin in the background, seething: 🤌🤌🤌
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Arthur is found by a little old witch in the woods, and is cared for.
But the witch realizes that her magic is no good on him.
She hovered her hands over Arthur’s body, with her eyes closed. Arthur could see the light cascading out her fingertips but he could not feel anything.
“Ah.” She said, smiling at him sweetly. “You are protected by one very great indeed, young warrior. My magic cannot even help you, let alone could it hurt you.” She giggled, as if this was something funny.
Arthur, high on pain and unable to move at all without searing hot flashes of it, was a tad put out.
“Is there something wrong with me?”
She shook her head.
“The opposite. The magic that protects you is more powerful than any I’ve felt, in all my years. And there were a lot of years, believe me. The person watching out for you, Arthur Pendragon, must care for you a great deal. Especially in knowing how you feel about the subject of sorcery.” She rattled these things off as if it were idle chitchat, as she went about the room collecting herbs and creams and throwing them into the pot in her hands.
Arthur was extremely confused. About everything that was said, but definitely one thing.
“You know who I am?”
“Of course. I wouldn’t invite anyone into my home without knowing who they were.”
“You helped me anyway? Knowing my father executes magic users?”
Arthur could not find it in himself to be afraid, he knew he was in no danger, and she’d just said she couldn’t hurt him or heal him with magic. So that’s good at least. She could’ve left him for dead, another reason to be thankful.
He had no intention of mentioning any of this healing excursion to his father.
“You would not turn me in. I know you have a true and noble heart. You are the Once and Future King.” She smiled over her shoulder at him and continued on her way.
Arthur played back the entirety of what she’d mentioned previously and his brows furrowed even more, if possible, giving him a slight headache.
He didn’t mean to appear rude but the question just came tumbling out of him.
“Someone powerful is stopping you from using magic on me? With magic?”
She turned back to her work station, which faced Arthur’s bed, and nodded again.
“Your guardian angel.” She smiled again, very sweet but also secretive. A smile of knowing things that Arthur had yet to even begin to comprehend.
Arthur was struck back to his fathers voice saying that same phrase. And all the numerous times he’d come away from a battle he thought lost, with nothing but a few scratches.
Someone was saving him.
Time and time again. Someone was always there.
But who?
The woman’s head snapped up from her working hands as if reading his thoughts. But still no malice was found in her eyes, only concern.
“Heed my words.” She began. Nothing good ever started with that. “They are not your foe. They have been there time and time again, you know it. In your heart of hearts. A moment will come when you must make a choice. If you turn this into a war, as your father did, everything you hold dear will be lost. Your kingdom, your happiness, the color of the world through your eyes. You will see nothing but grey ash.” A tear slid down her cheek and Arthur could feel them welling in his eyes, though he didn’t know why.
“But,” she smiled wetly. “If you choose to trust your heart, and open it to them willingly, you will prosper. Even in death, you will not truly die, as so many men do. You will be the Once and Future King, and your soul will live forever.” Arthur blinked, and he felt the wetness because he knew he was crying. But he didn’t feel sad, he felt ecstatic. Like it was bursting out of him, but he couldn’t move. Because everything was still broken and sliced open, making him vulnerable to everything. Even the feelings in the air, which Arthur usually held a dutiful immunity to.
“Who?” He managed to croak out, when he regained his princely manner.
“I will not tell you, Arthur. And you would be wise not to go looking. The answer to your question will come in its own time. For now, keep learning.” And then she winked, like Arthur was supposed to know what that meant. And how was he supposed to just keep going with the knowledge that someone close to him, or someone who thinks highly of him, has protected him even in knowing they could be caught at any second, knowing they would die. All to save Arthur.
At the thought, he wondered why his life was worth so much. Yes, knights uphold their honor and would fight and die for Arthur or Uther. But Arthur didn’t meet many sorcerers with loyalty of that kind.
Or maybe he didn’t really meet any sorcerers. Unless they were heading to the pyre and looking down their last minutes.
Of course, the sorcerers he’d come in contact with didn’t fancy a chat, because Uther never offered it. There was never a question. Magic equals death. It didn’t matter if it was healing, or helping a dying crop, or growing a shade tree for the children.
In the low light of the old woman’s tent, everything made perfect sense.
But it didn’t.
Because, not very many people knew that Arthur didn’t always agree with his father on these matters, Uther would never allow that to be made too public.
Maybe guards had heard something and whispered their secrets to handsy maids, or stable boys. Whatever the preference.
It would be entirely possible for the staff of the castle to know things that they shouldn’t.
So that narrows it down to about…three hundred people give or take.
Lovely.
Arthur took a deep breath and heard the old woman’s words in his head.
So he stopped thinking of it, stopped trying to find an answer and just waited for it to come to him. Or for death. Whichever came first.
The next day, as he woke, he almost startled realizing he wasn’t in his bed, and wouldn’t see Merlin first thing, but then didn’t because it hurt too much.
“Do not fret. It is almost time for you to go, Arthur Pendragon.”
“What do you mean?”
Then he heard it. A faint voice. Like music to his ears.
Yelling his name.
Oh thank heavens.
Merlin found him.
He always found him.
A pang of…something hit his heart before he could stop it and it upset him deeply.
But then the smile returned, because he was about to go home.
The woman came and helped him up, dressed his various wounds with her mysterious poultice once more, and then turned to look him straight in his ocean blue orbs. Right into the very depths of him. Hers were almost clear, like the sky.
“I know you have love for your father, but he lives in fear every day of his life. All of his decisions are made out of that fear. You cannot be the King your people need you to be if you follow in his footsteps. Choose love instead. Always. Even when it’s most difficult.”
She walked him out of the canvas tent and into the cool winds of spring morning.
“I wish you the best of luck, my King.” She bowed her head. The first sign of respect for any title, she had ever shown him. He almost blushed because of it. And he felt proud. To have someone like her rooting for him.
He would think about that old woman and what she told him, for years to come.
“Arthur?” The voice was getting closer. Then a lanky body burst through the line of trees and found him standing there, strapped together with bandages.
Arthur turned back to introduce the woman to Merlin, but she was gone.
And so was her tent.
It had all vanished.
For a moment he thought he was insane. But looked down at the helpful linens that were holding ointments on his carved skin, and knew that he hadn’t made it up.
“Arthur!” Merlin ran straight for him, but stopped a few feet off, clearly seeing he was hurt.
“Thank God you’re alive. I mean I knew you were, I knew you wouldn’t leave without sending me to the stocks one last time for good measure.” Arthur was smiling, he could feel it. He’d missed his friend. More than he should’ve.
He wished he could hug him, but as previously stated, he could barely move.
“I could go for a hug,” he admitted. “But I can’t really move anything without…ya know, pain.” He was still a little woozy and wanted to just get on with the journey.
“Guess I’ll have to help you on your way then.” Merlin sighed, but smiled anyway and looped Arthur’s good arm around his shoulders.
Then they walked.
And walked and walked and walked.
And neither of them said anything.
Arthur was lost in his own thoughts about destiny and the people that would one day rely on him for protection and peace.
Merlin had issues of his own he was meddling through, Arthur assumed.
And when the limping boy realized they’d been walking all day in complete silence, and hadn’t stopped once.
He finally voiced a question.
“Were you wounded?”
“What?” Merlin asked quietly.
“In the battle. Trying to get away, were you wounded?” Arthur’s eyes scanned his body and did not see any marks on his pale skin.
“No, I got away unscathed. Can’t say the same for you though.” He looked down, assessing Arthur’s own wounds.
“Did someone help you?”
“Yes.” He answered shortly. “An old woman. She was very kind.”
“She looks like she knew what she was doing. So I’m glad.” Merlin didn’t ask any more questions, Arthur was grateful.
“How did you find me?”
Merlin looked sheepish for a moment, but schooled it, and managed to get the redness out of his neck before it spread to his face.
He shrugged.
“I’m not really sure. I just had a feeling. Like I said, I knew you weren’t dead. So I just, kind of, followed my gut. And it led me to you standing in a field all by yourself.” He chuckled, as if the scene were funny.
“Hmm.” He said. Then looked around, and noticed there was water running somewhere.
“There’s a stream nearby, and it’s getting dark. We’ll stop and finish the journey tomorrow.”
“Alright. I’ll gather wood for a fire.” Merlin led him to a log and leaned him up against it for support.
Arthur could only watch as Merlin went about gathering dry wood where he could find it.
In the process of that, Arthur fell fast asleep.
In the darkness, Merlin crawled to Arthur and began to heal all his many wounds. Black smoke rising from them as they closed and left nothing but a scar.
Arthur would think the old woman’s poultice worked well. And they would be able to get home that much quicker.
Before Arthur opened his eyes the next morning, he knew something was different.
He tested his leg and it moved without delay or surging pain. His arms in the same strong condition.
His eyes flung open, and he ripped the bandages off to reveal closed skin.
Arthur might be a bit dull sometimes but he knows fairly well that nothing of any mortal nature could heal him so quickly.
But the old woman. She’d said no one could touch him with magic. Helpful or otherwise.
So what had done this?
His eyes glanced his surrounding and found only one clue.
A body curled in on itself with dark curls springing out.
Merlin.
But it couldn’t be. Merlin might not be as much an idiot as Arthur usually claimed. But he was no sorcerer.
Was he?
The pieces started clicking together. Merlin was always the one to conveniently drag him to safety.
He’s always the one there when unexpected victories are won.
Merlin.
Of course.
Something in Arthur must’ve known. Because he was not surprised even for a second. It almost seemed right in his mind. Merlin. Magic. Of course.
But that means Merlin’s been the one risking his life every single day, just to do what? Muddle about and polish armor? Muck out the horses?
If Merlin was as powerful as the old woman said, why did he stay? And why didn’t he trust Arthur with his secret?
Merlin started to rouse.
Arthur had to make a decision.
Confront him or act oblivious?
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