#the look merlin gave him was a request for lancelot to prevent merlin from doing anything stupid

[justaz]

arthur has always been suspicious of the tavern excuse for merlin’s absences, but he has no proof on the contrary and when confronted merlin either tells him outlandish tales of near death experiences that have no chance of being remotely truthful or he admits to and apologizes for slacking on his duties to get drunk. one day, he decides enough is enough and he and all the knights go to the tavern with merlin and arthur casually brings up merlin’s history in the tavern and says he could probably beat gwaine in a drinking contest. merlin tries to divert the discussion away from the idea but arthur is determined. they receive a round of drinks and arthur pushes a pint of ale into merlin’s hands with a look of challenge. merlin’s options are to either commit to the lie to hide his secret or admit to the lie and risk exposing his magic. he takes the former. merlin gives lancelot a Look and then slams back the pint of ale with a minor bit of gagging and pauses to breath. gwaine already finished his pint thirty seconds ago but its entertaining to watch merlin so he doesn’t say anything.

merlin (built like a twig, rarely drinks, lightweight) is proper sloshed. arthur is almost vindicated but he needs merlin to admit it. he orders two more pints and gives one to gwaine and the second to merlin, instigating the competition further despite the fact that gwaine won already. merlin grimaces and tries to do the same thing again but only gets a few gulps in before he folds. he slams the mug down and gives arthur a kicked puppy look before admitting and apologizing for lying. arthur is Vindicated. merlin is still wasted.

the nights wears on and merlin feels the effect of the ale more and more every minute that passes. he sits between arthur and lancelot and feels almost unbearably warm but that could be bc of the alcohol in his system, or the crowded tavern. merlin looks around and watches the people that pass their table by while the knights talk and joke and laugh amongst themselves. merlin feels relaxed and excitable now, his worries seem to have melted away and he cant seem to remember why he was always so stressed and worn down before. he sees a game of [insert game here] (i was gonna say darts but google says that game hasn’t been invented in canon time so ill leave it up to interpretation) going on and climbs over lancelot to join in.

the knights watch with amusement and anticipate merlin’s clumsy attempts at [whatever]. oddly enough tho, merlin is a fucking god at [game]. a small crowd gathers and betting pools form and then challengers approach and put money on the line to go against merlin and merlin absolutely demolishes them all. honestly if arthur didn’t know any better, he’d think merlin was using magic to win bc there was no way his bumbling fool of a servant was that good at…anything.

the challengers take their defeat with honor and grace. the audience is a huge fan of merlin and they keep buying him drinks but he just sends them to the table for the other’s to drink. many people come up to him and flirt, maybe motivated by all the money he won that night or maybe just bc he’s merlin, and when merlin responds to them he’s………..he’s a real good fucking flirt? like could put gwaine to shame and he’s rejecting them???? how can someone come across so flirtatiously while turning down offers to take various beautiful people to bed??

arthur was already itching to intervene when people were flirting with merlin but he seemed to have a handle on it so he let it slide, but then people started touching merlin and arthur’s hand had drifted to his hip where his sword was usually sheathed. however, again, merlin was very skilled at escaping the situations with little to no conflict and he came back to the table with his winnings. the knights cheer for him and order more drinks with his money which merlin is too inebriated to notice and truthfully doesn’t really care about. his eyes are on arthur and if arthur thought watching merlin flirt from afar was bad then having him up close in his personal space, hands brushing against his arms and dark eyelashes fluttering softly against his pale skin, breathing his name into the space between them and licking his full pink lips was absolute torture and the worst and best agony he couldn’t even dream up.

[easily-obsessed-1985]

Viking warrior made

Merlin is kidnapped to be sold/forced to be a gladiator

Magic suppressing chains

Nordic/viking captors

Use black paint across their eyes to disguise their features

They teach Merlin how to fight so he can out on a good show

In season 4 season 5 gap

Lancelot is alive, because we love Lancelot

Lancelot was visiting Nemeth to see Princess Mithian, for trade talks and because they're courting, when Merlin is taken

Word gets sent to the kingdoms that a powerful sorcerer has been caught and any interested in purchasing him is invited to attend a tournament where he will showcase his skill

Knights are invited to participate as opponents

Merlin has been missing for a year by the time the tournament is held

A few Knights of the Round Table are interested in competing

Merlin suffered a lot during his captivity, not being able to be free from his chains more than an hour every day

The kingdoms all arrive, pavilions are set up for each for their knights, servants, and royals

Arthur is determined to question everyone present if they have seen Merlin

The servants and knights do the same

When the kingdoms all gather in a makeshift hall, the leader brings Merlin out, still in chains, so they can get a glimpse of the product

Merlin's hair has grown out and curls over his ears, his face has some stubble, and the dark eye paint keep him fairly unrecognizable

He keeps his head down and only growls once when one king touches him; he is rewarded with a swift lash, and he manages to only wince slightly

His breath rushes out when he hears some familiar voices: Arthur and Gwen

When they approach he tries to stay still but his body starts to tremble just barely

He'd been marked with large tattoos crawling around his arms

Arthur asks him what his name is and he can't breathe for a second

Another lash for stalling

He growls out the name Myrrdin half hoping he's recognized, half hoping he's not

When the royals all retire for the night, Merlin is locked back up in his cage

A couple Camelot Knights come to check out the competition

Merlin keeps his head down, until he hears Lancelot's voice

His head snaps up and their eyes lock, and Lancelot's breath rushes out as he grips the cage bars

Merlin shakes his head just enough to keep him from revealing who he is

When everyone is asleep, Lancelot comes back desperate to get Merlin out

They talk for a short time before Merlin hears his captors approaching and begs the knight not to tell anyone who he is

Merlin is brought to the arena just before dawn and is stripped to a pair of tight fitting trousers

No shirt no shoes

The woman in charge recites while painting his face with another stripe down his cheek and presses a needle through his ear and securing a metal loop leaving faint traces of blood on his lobe and down his neck

A symbol is painted on the back of his neck and he feels hands grazing over his shoulder blades

They pull his hair into a few braids, leaving his bangs to cover his forehead lest he be too noticeable

His scars are on full display, but his time in captivity has made him less self conscious

Merlin is glad he hadn't seen Gaius as he would have recognized Merlin from them

He kneels and awaits his orders

The kingdoms are all situated in the various seats surrounding the arena

Two or three knights stand in front of each kingdom as competitors

Merlin was still looking to the ground, so he didn't know which of his friends he'd be fighting

The kingdoms were allowed to go one-on-one or to go all at once, they chose the former

With a harsh command, Merlin rose to his feet, gracefully, standing to his full height, chest out, shoulders back

He fought two from Gawant, and two from Nemeth, all falling quickly

He tried to cause as little damage as he could, but his training had been harsh so he didn't hold back

Amatis and Mercia put up good fights, able to draw blood, though Merlin didn't feel it

Essetir was taken down easily, and there may have been some broken bones because he may have known one of the knights from when he was young, and he had been bullied

Camelot was last, and Merlin was tense as Gwaine and Percival circled him

Merlin made their defeat quick so as to avoid being recognized

Lancelot stepped forward when the others stepped back

Merlin had blood on his face, and blood dripping from his bicep and a small slash on his stomach

Lancelot decided to talk, but Merlin was strung tightly having fought for a few hours now

He told Merlin that he didn't need to fight, that he could stop

The Woman shouted a command at Merlin who attacked

Lancelot defended himself, barely

Merlin had him on the ground in no time, blade pressed to his friends throat

Lancelot looked up at him with sad eyes

He reached a hand up and touched Merlin's face, who leaned into the touch

"I'm so sorry, Merlin. You didn't deserve this." Lancelot told him

Merlin is dragged back then, and forced to his knees while the woman approaches, whip in hand

She speaks to him in her language, and he responds in kind

She walks behind him telling him, in her tongue, this was his own fault

The lashes start and Merling tries to hold in his cries, knowing that will only earn him more

Lancelot tries to stop it, but is forced back by the vikings

The Camelotians don't understand why Lancelot is so agitated

After 10 lashes, the woman relents and tells Merlin, in her tongue, to use his magic to prevent an infection and to heal the wounds to scars

One cuff is removed and his magic flows over him, easing his pain

Once the wounds are just scars, Merlin feels the manacle being put back on

Lancelot yells for him to fight back

Merlin locks eyes with his friend, seeing the pain there, he nods almost imperceptibly

His magic forces his captors back, and he runs to Lancelot, who crushes him in an embrace

Lancelot is whispering to him and then forces him back behind him, away from these savage people

The woman tuts at Merlin and raises her voice

Merlin tenses, but stays behind Lancelot, hand grasping the knights arm tightly

Arthur tries getting Lancelot's attention, but the knight won't move his gaze from the vikings in front of him

Lancelot tells the vikings they can't sell someone who doesn't belong to them

The woman laughs

Merlin growls

The woman then suggests a battle, one final duel and then the little birdie can fly free

This phrase catches the Camelotians attention

A whispered Merlin comes from Gwaine’s lips

Merlin turns sharply, meeting the long haired knights eyes

Gwaine rushes forward, but Merlin has been captive for too long and he quickly retreats letting go of Lancelot, trying to avoid whatever punishment he thought was coming

As soon as he's away from Lancelot the captors have him again, cuff slammed shut on his wrist, held in place by his throat

Merlin growls out in the woman's tongue that he'll accept her final duel if she ensures the Camelotians will be unharmed

She acquiesce's and the vikings begin forming a circle around Merlin and one other man

The one who trained him

The fight is brutal, but Merlin has much to fight for now

He knows that the others have figured out who he is now when he hears shouting

Merlin is quick, but has also already fought many other battles beforehand

He feels his magic straining to get free as he loses ground

As the man is standing over him, crushing his windpipe, his magic breaks free and the manacles shatter

The vikings never stood a chance against the onslaught of magic

The visiting kingdoms are all unharmed

But Merlin lay unmoving on the ground

Lancelot is by his side in a heartbeat, with Gwaine right behind him

Merlin mumbled something that only the vikings would understand

His eyes shot open, blazing gold, as he moved to stand

He collected the vikings with his magic, bringing them in the center of the arena

He spoke viking words, funerary rites, and set them ablaze as he knelt before them

He stayed there for some time before he heard the arguing

When he went to its source, he found the visiting kings ready to face off and declare war, until they noticed his presence

The Mercian King was trying to argue that he agreed to the fee requested by the woman and he intended to take his new property back with him

Merlin stopped the man talking with a flash of his eyes

He started to talk but stopped when he felt Lancelot's hand on him whispering in his ear that he needed to speak common for them to all understand

Merlin nodded, not realizing he'd spoken the other tongue, and informed those gathered he was not for sale

He'd been held prisoner for too long and he would not do so again

If they valued their lives or kingdoms they would leave and not retaliate

When the kings tried to argue more, Merlin told them they're free to challenge him to a duel if it would make them feel better, but since he'd already defeated their champions, the odds weren't in their favor

When the only kingdom remaining was Camelot, Arthur reached over as if to grab Merlin’s shoulder, but Merlin flinched and scrambled out of reach, dropping into a crouch as if prepared to fight, eyes wild

When he looked up and saw the concerned sad look in the King's eyes, he straightened up and came back to stand in front of him, slowly

His King apologized for everything that happened to him, but Merlin stopped him

It wasn't his fault, it was just bad luck he'd been captured and they had figured out some of his power

Merlin held his arm out to his King, who grasped it firmly

Merlin gave him a small smile

He hadn't smiled in a long time

When they returned to the Camelot delegation, Gwaine walked up to him slowly as if he'd spook him again

Merlin ran to him and wrapped his arms around the knight

Everyone cleared away to let hem have a moment, though they didn't go far

The trip back to Camelot was easier than the trip out

Though Merlin didn't help with camp set up, he did cook

He shared a horse with Gwaine, and barely spoke the whole way

When they rode through the lower town heading for the castle, several stared at Merlin, thinking their King brought back a powerful weapon, not recognizing him as Merlin

He was still shirtless as he'd refused to wear a spare

Most of the time he was captive he'd not had a shirt

When they arrived at the castle, Gaius was there waiting as were the courtiers

Gaius recognized the scars almost immediately and rushed to Merlin

Merlin let him inspect him, knowing he was fine aside from new scars

Arthur came over and instructed Gaius to make him take a bath and give him a thorough check up before looking in Merlin’s eyes once more, nodding, and returning to his counselors

Lancelot told Gaius he'd have a bath sent to his chambers so he could be inspected better

When Merlin was stripped down and sitting in the water, his gaze was distant

Gwaine came in and began to carefully wash him, making sure to get all the war paint off

The water was nearly black by the time he was done

Gaius was tense while checking over each new injury and mark, before he finally relaxed, only slightly, and sent Merlin to bed with a sleeping draught

The next day was full of council meetings and Arthur and Gwen were both getting frustrated

When Merlin walked in, clean of the war paint, but not really Merlin anymore, braids still in his hair, tattoos on his arms in view in a short sleeved tunic with his old brown trousers and boots, the council stopped and stared

Merlin addressed them, said he would never cause harm to Camelot, his home, nor his King or Queen. And he was prepared to swear oaths of fealty if necessary to prove such

The council jumped at the idea and within days, Merlin knelt before the King and Queen of Camelot swearing his life in service of their kingdom

He tried to adjust back to being a manservant, but was ill suited for it after his captivity

Instead he became a blade master and taught the knights new techniques

He would often get a far off look in his eyes like he was back in the arena, and would sometimes jump to defend himself when startled, but he was getting better

When he spoke, sometimes it was in the viking tongue, not realizing he'd done it

Gwaine would wake in the night to Merlin shouting and would force him awake and reassure him he was safe

They became inseparable

When they finally married almost a year after he'd been back, Arthur gave Merlin a hard time for waiting so long

Merlin rolled his eyes and reminded the King how long it took him to ask Gwen to marry him

He still didn't smile as much, but that could be because he'd discovered after several years, his friends were aging and graying, and he wasn't

He knew what that must mean and knew he'd have to live on long after they were gone

Everyone was confronted with this fact during a council meeting

Some blustery old noble pointed out that he wasn't aging and that he must be there to take Camelot when the royals passed on

That was when everyone really looked at Merlin and saw he hadn't aged a day in nearly 15 years

His eyes were full of pain and regret, but he told them that he would never take over Camelot, it wasn't his place to be ruler, not when he would live for eternity

The room fell deathly silent

Eternity? Gwaine asked heartbreaking soft

Merlin only gave them a short nod

[28onlythebrave]

'The Wicked Powers' theory regarding the plot based on Arthurian legend

I was looking for some infos about twp and i found this:

I had completely forgotten about this info CC gave us and because I have recently studied the Arthurian legend, I decided to look more into it. I think one of the most interesting things about the Arthurian legend is the Sword In The Stone/Excalibur.

Excalibur is the legendary sword of King Arthur, sometimes also attributed with magical powers or associated with the rightful sovereignty of Britain. It was associated with the Arthurian legend very early on. Excalibur and the Sword in the Stone (the proof of Arthur's lineage) are in some versions said to be different, though in most incarnations they are the same. In Welsh, it is called Caledfwlch. It was forged at the Isle of Avalon.

In Arthurian romance, a number of explanations are given for Arthur's possession of Excalibur. In Robert de Boron's Merlin, the first tale to mention the "sword in the stone", Arthur obtained the British throne by pulling a sword from an anvil sitting atop a stone that appeared in a churchyard on Christmas Eve. In this account, as foretold by Merlin, the act could not be performed except by "the true king," meaning the divinely appointed king or true heir of Uther Pendragon. As Malory related in his most famous English-language version of the Arthurian tales, the 15th-century Le Morte d'Arthur: "Whoso pulleth out this sword of this stone and anvil, is rightwise king born." After many of the gathered nobles try and fail to complete Merlin's challenge, the teenage Arthur (who up to this point had believed himself to be son of Sir Ector, not Uther's son, and went there as Sir Kay's squire) does this feat effortlessly by accident and then repeats it publicly.

The identity of this sword as Excalibur is made explicit in the Prose Merlin, part of the Lancelot-Grail cycle of French romances (the Vulgate Cycle). In the Vulgate Mort Artu, when Arthur is at the brink of death he orders Griflet to throw the sword into the enchanted lake; after two failed attempts (as he felt such a great sword should not be thrown away), Griflet finally complies with the wounded king's request and a hand emerges from the lake to catch it. This tale becomes attached to Bedivere instead of Griflet in Malory and the English tradition. However, in the Post-Vulgate Cycle and consequently Malory, early in his reign Arthur breaks the Sword from the Stone while in combat against King Pellinore, and then is given Excalibur by a Lady of the Lake in exchange for a later boon for her (some time later, she arrives at Arthur's court to demand the head of Balin). Malory records both versions of the legend in his Le Morte d'Arthur, naming both swords as Excalibur. In some tellings, Excalibur's scabbard was also said to have powers of its own, as any wounds received while wearing the scabbard would not bleed at all, thus preventing the death of the wearer. For this reason, Merlin chides Arthur for preferring the sword over the scabbard, saying that the latter was the greater treasure. In the later romance tradition, including Le Morte d'Arthur, the scabbard is stolen from Arthur by his half-sister Morgan le Fay in revenge for the death of her beloved Accolon during the Fake Excalibur plot and thrown into a lake, never to be found again. This act later enables the death of Arthur, deprived of magical protection, many years later in his final battle.

Now, do you see the connections there?

The sword

There are many important swords in tsc such as, Cortana, Heosphoros, Pheosphoros and The Mortal Sword.

Cortana is based on the legendary sword Curtana, attributed to Ogier the Dane and the legendary knight Tristan. The real sword, Curtana, also known as the "Sword of Mercy", is a ceremonial sword used at the coronation of British kings and queens and is one of the Crown Jewels of the United Kingdom. Cortana is owned by Emma Carstairs.

Heosphoros is a family sword of the Morgensterns, Clary was in possession of it until she used it to kill Sebastian and the Heavenly Fire destroyed it. However, both Heosphoros and Pheosphoros (which was owned by Valentine and then Sebastian) still exist in Thule and Janus is in possession of both of them, in fact, Heosphoros was likely never even owned by the Clary Fairchild of that world, nor was it used on Sebastian. Janus took possession of the sword at one point and began to wield it, and then he took the sword and Sebastian's Phaesphoros with him to Ash’s world (aka the “real” world).

The Mortal Sword also known as the Soul-Sword, Maellartach, and Angel Blade, is the second of the Mortal Instruments given by Angel Raziel to Jonathan Shadowhunter. The Soul-Sword is primarily used to compel Nephilim to tell the truth, mostly during trials. Shadowhunters who wish to have their claims tested and proved may submit themselves to "trial by the Sword," during which a suitable judge, often a Silent Brother, sometimes the Consul or Inquisitor, wields the sword and places it in the hands of the deponent, where it adheres and cannot be removed until the judge wills it. Downworlders and mundanes cannot be compelled by the Soul-Sword, thus preventing the Sword from becoming used by the Shadowhunters as a general tool for interrogation.

The Sword can also have a dark purpose, if intended. Originally, the alliance of the Soul-Sword is seraphic, its power drawn from Angel Raziel himself. However, Valentine Morgenstern discovered an ancient spell to reverse the alliance from angelic to demonic, through a process called the Ritual of Infernal Conversion, where the Sword is seethed until red-hot and cooled four times in the blood of Downworld children: a child of Lilith, a child of the moon, a child of the night, and a child of the fey. With its demonic alliance, the Sword can be used to summon demons and allows its bearer to have control over them.

In September 2012, the Sword was used to question Annabel Blackthorn, who subsequently used it to kill Robert Lightwood and Livvy Blackthorn. It was shattered when Emma struck it with Cortana. Emma and Julian later acquired a version of the sword from Thule, claiming that the Iron Sisters had repaired it and used it to force Horace Dearborn to tell the truth about his involvement with the Unseelie Court and his schemes to gain the position of Consul.

I believe that in twp we will see more of Heosphoros and Pheosphoros in use, but I also think we’ll have a new enchanted weapon, one that will rapresent Excalibur. But if the sword is a parallel with Excalibur, then who is Arthur? In my opinion, the owner of this enchanted weapon will be Kit Herondale and let me tell you why. Arthur was a normal teenage boy who wasn’t aware of his lineage until he pulled the sword out of an anvil. We have three main characters in twp, Kit, Ty and Dru. Guess who is the only one who didn’t know he was a shadowhunter and wasn’t aware of his lineage? Kit. Also, the Arthurian legend is Welsh folklore. Which shadowhunter family is of Welsh orings? Yeah, the Herondales.

I assume The Mortal Sword will once again come in hand, except that this time it's a thule version of it. Also, the only other person who has an analogue arc to Kit's is Clary, and that's why I think the both of them will play a big role in the killing of Janus. Especially if you think about when Jace was once killed with the mortal sword by Valentine.

The lake

In a version of the legend where the sword of the stone and Excalibur are two different blades, Arthur breaks the sword of the stone and is given Excalibur by the Lady of the Lake at the enchanted lake.

The correlation here is obvious, the enchanted lake in tsc is Lake Lyn, also known as the mortal mirror of mortal glass. Ingesting the lake's waters can be poisonous to Nephilim, but it has no effect on Downworlders. Faeries have been known to drink from the lake, saying that it gives them true vision; for the Nephilim, the water causes hallucinations and may even drive them to madness. Among the Fair Folk, the lake is known as the Lake of Dreams or Mirror of Dreams.

The Lady of the Lake is a name used by several fairy-like enchantresses in the Matter of Britain, the body of medieval literature and mythology associated with the legend of King Arthur. They play pivotal roles in many stories, including providing Arthur with the sword Excalibur, eliminating Merlin, raising Lancelot after the death of his father, and helping to take the dying Arthur to Avalon. Different sorceresses known as the Lady of the Lake appear concurrently as separate characters in some versions of the legend since at least the Post-Vulgate Cycle and consequently the seminal Le Morte d'Arthur, with the latter describing them as a hierarchical group, while some texts also give this title to either Morgan or her sister.

The Lady resides in an enchanted realm, an otherworld the entry to which is disguised as an illusion of a lake. I think she may be in fact the Seelie Queen. It would make total sense for it to be her because of her correlation with Kit (the only known living descendant of the First Heir of the Seelie and Unseelie Courts), Ash Morgenstern (the son she had with Sebastian, who is half shadowhunter and half faerie) and Janus (whom she has an alliance with).

According to her backstory in the Vulgate Merlin, the Lady of the Lake was a daughter of the knight Dionas (Dyonas) and a niece of the Duke of Burgundy. She was born in Dionas' domain of Briosque in the forest Brocéliande. Which takes us to the next point.

The forest

Brocéliande, earlier known as Brécheliant and Brécilien, is a legendary enchanted forest that had a reputation in the medieval European imagination as a place of magic and mystery. Brocéliande is featured in several medieval texts, mostly related to the Arthurian legend and the characters of Merlin, Morgan le Fay, the Lady of the Lake, and some of the Knights of the Round Table.

Here too the correlation is obvious, the forest in Idris is called Brocelind. In September 2012, a portion, specifically the center, of the Brocelind Forest was blighted with dark magic by the forces of the Unseelie King, making the area a space where Nephilim runes and adamas-weapons would be ineffective. Making it, in fact, an echanted forest, like in the legend.

Soooo these were some of my thoughts, if you found something more please let me know cause I really like all of this lol.

[noforkingclue]

A Chance Meeting (Merlin x reader)

I’ve started re-watching Merlin again so feel free to send in any requests! :D

Everything tag list: @greenrevolutionary

“He won’t survive if your keep dragging him like that.”

The young man in front of you looked up sharply at the sound of your voice. You couldn’t help but smile at the startled expression on his face. You stepped out from behind the tree you had been observing him from and gave him what you thought was a reassuring smile.

“Over here,” you said, “There’s a stream were you can clean his wound.”

“Who are you?”

“I’m y/n. You can trust me Emrys.”

“How… You’re a druid.”

You nodded and walked over and held out your hand. Merlin hesitated for a moment before nodding and you grabbed Arthur’s other arm. You and Merlin managed to get him to the river and you set him down gently. You felt Merlin’s gaze on you as you worked.

“What’s the matter?” you said eventually, “Why do you keep looking at me?”

“It’s just-“

“Just what?”

“Why are you helping us?”

You paused you work and looked over your shoulder at Merlin.

“I thought that should be clear to you Emrys.”

“Stop calling me that. Just call me Merlin.”

“Fine. I thought that should be clear to you Merlin.”

When Merlin didn’t reply you sighed and moved to sit down next to him. You started to clean Arthur’s wound acutely aware of Merlin’s gaze on you.

“I want magic to be returned to the land,” you said, “And for that to happen Arthur must survive. We are aware that Arthur isn’t his father.”

The bleeding from Arthur’s wound had stopped and you started preparing the herbal remedy to help the healing process. Merlin watched you intently.

“Druids don’t usually come this close to Camelot,” he said, “Are you sure this is safe?”

“Safe?” you glanced up at him, “Is anywhere safe for someone like me? It doesn’t matter where we hide, Uther would hunt us down until we are no more. I have lived here all my life and I am not about to let someone as small minded as Uther Pendragon force me out of my home.”

“But-“

“I can take care of myself,” you said, “I have live here for years and I will continue to do so. Here,” you handed over the herbal remedy, “This is ready. You should spread it on the wound to prevent it from becoming infected.”

“Thank you,” said Merlin, “I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t arrived.”

“You would’ve done something,” you said resting against a tree, “You’ve saved Arthur’s life countless times and from wounds worse than that. You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

“How do-“

“Magic,” you said with a playful smile, “It’s a wonderful thing when used properly. This is what Arthur will understand when he’s King.”

“You seem to have a lot of faith in him.”

“You don’t.”

“Arthur? He’s an idiot.”

“Is he now?”

“You should see the way he leaves his room,” said Merlin, “And the way he eats. He’s hardly the regal Prince you think he is.”

“I never called him regal.”

“Yeah well,” Merlin looked away, “You implied it.”

“Did not!”

“You did.”

“I did no-“ you cut yourself off and sighed, “This is childish.”

“You started it.”

“No I- You’re doing this deliberately?”

“Maybe.”

You gave Merlin a playful glare and moved to look closer at Arthur’s wound.

“You’ve done well.”

“Thank you.”

“For your first attempt.”

“Hey!”

“Just joking. I know that Gaius has been teaching you.”

“You know Gaius?”

“Of yes,” you commented as you started wrapping Arthur’s wound, “Quite well in fact.”

“He never-“

“Arthur! Merlin! Where are you?”

“Knights,” Merlin gave you a worried look, “You should leave.”

“But-“

“They won’t be as friendly to you as I have been.”

You hesitated before nodding.

“Fine,” you said, “Arthur’s wound should be healing. You have a natural ability for healing magic.”

You stood up and brushed the dirt off of your clothing.

“If you want to learn more you know where to find me.”

You gave him one last smile as you disappeared back into the forest. Merlin remained where he was, staring at the spot you had just been in. He didn’t register Lancelot running up to him until he grabbed his shoulder. As Merlin was pulled to his feet he had made up his mind.

He was certainly going to come back.

[stellarcat52]

Timeless Blue Chapter Two

Okay so apparently I’m just gonna add this little bit to every chapter as a little authors note. So chapter two is here, and as I stop caring about what canonically is happening in whatever scene in writing, the more the style will reflect my normal writing style. On that note, does anyone care how much I deviate from the canon? Like change potentially important plot details aside? Cause uh... yeah I don’t have the greatest impulse control and might mix this with another Au I had in mind. Either way, I hope you enjoy.

Krel, Douxie, Claire, and a crystallized Jim free fall through the rift. Thanks to Douxie’s anti-gravity spells, no lasting damage aside from a crack in Jim’s crystalline savior was dealt.

Krel landed behind Douxie and beside Palchuck, barely being missed by Jim falling from the trees above a moment later.

“What happened?” Steve groaned from under Jim.

“Well,” Douxie started, “I just conjured and anti-gravity spell to slow our fall and keep us from dying. You’re welcome.”

“Douxie? Where is the flying castle?”

“Oh fuzz buckets.”

Knights in metal armor surround them, shouting and communicated within their own ranks.

“This means, we’re lost in time.”

“Time?! I know the geezer said the answers were in the past but time travel shouldn’t be technologically possible for any species yet!”

“What manor of sorcery is this?” A mounted knight demands.

Douxie reaches back and grabs Krel’s hand, “Don’t use your serrator, just follow my lead.” He whispers to the Akiridion, the message being conveyed to the other two as well. However, Steve freaking out did not help their case.

Douxie and Krel look up to see the Knight had taken off his helmet. “Sir Lancelot, um...”

“He’s so handsome..” Steve said, earning a questioning look from Krel and Claire before a sword was pointed at them.

“Wait! Aren’t you Merlin’s errand boy?” Lancelot’s sword crept closer to Douxie’s neck. “I hope you can explain why you are associating with a troll.” Lancelot points to Krel with his blade.

“Hey!”

“Apprentice, first of all, and Krel is not a troll.”

“He’s like an angel man.” Steve daydreams, leaning a little too much on Jim’s encasement. The green material shatters, waking him from his life-preserving sleep. “Woah!”

Douxie jumps up and away from Jim, Krel instinctively reaching for his serrator before remembering Douxie’s words.

“The devil-?”

As Lancelot leans back towards Jim, a red and black armored troll arm breaches the air.

“What? How did I-?”

“Jim! Are you okay?”

“Troll! Troll! To arms!”

Jim is met with two very different reactions, a hug from his girlfriend, and multiple swords being pointed at him.

Douxie starts to jump to protect Jim, a blue hand grabs the edge of his shirt too late to stop him. Douxie proceeds to try and convince Lancelot that Jim is a good troll, which is much harder to convince him of than Krel not being a troll at all.

“You will hang before the king for your insolence.”

====

Jim communes with Claire, Douxie, and his very reluctant cage-mate Krel to try and learn what’s going on before the group is brought before the king. Ending with a promise from Douxie that he’d explain everything once everyone was safe.

After a quick reminder to let Douxie handle this, introductions and explanations are due. Thankfully, Steve was more than happy to shut up once Krel reminded him there was no service in the dark ages and that if he said something wrong he wouldn’t be able to say bye to Aja.

“This is Claire of house Nuñez, and Steve of Palchuckia, a village idiot and uh knight in training.” Douxie starts, pointing to each person as he spoke, “and believe it or not, this is Prince Krel from house Tarron of Cantalupia.” Douxie cautiously opened the cage, bringing Krel out and implying Jim should stay there.

“I have not heard of Cantalupia.” Arthur watched every movement Krel made, from every step he took before standing behind Douxie to every subtle nerve driven shift in his weight.

“That’s to be expected. Before now-“ Douxie quickly gets cut off.

“I’ll have this supposed prince explain it to me.” Arthur snapped. “Explain why you are here, Prince Krel of Cantalupia.”

“Alright, well as the errand boy here explained, I am not a troll. I was cursed to appear like this and have been looking for a wizard to remove it. I would like to formerly request permission to stay here alongside my companions.” Krel gestured to Claire, and Steve, who were giving the Akiridion strange wide-eyed glances.

Arthur pointed Excalibur at the sunny patch in the middle of the floor. “Prove you are not a troll first. Step into the sunlight.”

Krel steps forwards, being followed by a pair of not-so-subtle knights every step until he stands in full daylight in front of the king. “I am no troll, or is this not enough to prove to you my story?”

Arthur’s tensions fade, his grip no longer iron on the hilt of Excalibur. “Alright.”

“Now that that is out of the way, I believe this beast deserves an explanation too, errand boy.” Lancelot pulled Jim out of the cage, forcing him to kneel in the shadows where everyone could see him. “He is most definitely not a cursed prince as your friend here seems to be.”

Douxie lets out a hissing breath, clearly not able to explain the troll. Thankfully, Arthur’s immediate rage was not aimed at anyone proven to not be a troll.

“A troll! I thought I made it very clear your kind is not welcome here when I banished you.”

“Don’t you mean betrayed?” Morgana steps out of the shadows, pushing her way into Arthur’s focus. “You gave the woods to enchanted creatures like these, would you break that vow?”

“These beasts care not of my vow. Especially not spies of Gunmar.”

“Stop calling me a beast!” Jim lunged forwards, held back by Lancelot and another knight. “Wait, Gunmar?”

“Uh, your highness,” Douxie coughs, “it’s good to see you again.”

“And who are you?”

“Hisirdoux, Merlin’s apprentice. I assure to you, he,” he gestures to Jim, “is no threat.”

“That is my judgement to make boy.” Arthur thunders.

Morgana lights up her hand, a ball of golden magic wandering as she speaks. “Trolls are born of magic, and you are of blood. How is their nature a crime?”

Krel had seen something like this before, the students standing up for him and Aja when Colonel Kubritz was looking for them in school.

“When they ravage our lands and take our loved ones from us? I made these laws to keep this fragile land together, and they will be abided.” Arthur shouted. “Leave the wood, the penalty is death. Bring this monster to the light.”

As Jim was carried to the light, protesting and claiming he wasn’t a troll, the entire group went to save him. Douxie attempting to reason with Arthur, Krel using his four arms to try and avoid being grabbed as well and prevent Jim from joining him under the sun, Steve starting to rush forwards but being cut off, and Claire protesting as she was grabbed just as quickly.

Everything happened too fast to understand. The shadows crept out of the corners and flooded where the light should be. In the corner of Krel’s eyes, Claire seemed to have blackened sclera until the light was gone, and the future Trollhunter was safe. Arthur, of course, blamed Morgana, who seemed to be the only person who wasn’t from the 21st century to realize it wasn’t her who had done this. Claire defended her boyfriend, claiming his innocence even if he was a troll.

“Evil is not inherited, it does not corrupt one species more than another. Claire is right to believe a troll, despite how evil you believe them, can be good.” The Extraterrestrial spoke.

“That means nothing Prince. This is my kingdom and I shall not fail it. These beasts are still dangerous, we are still at war."

“If you give into your fear, that is failing.”

“The girl and the prince speak truth. Please listen to them brother.”

Krel gives Douxie a questioning look, not seeing the family resemblance. Douxie shrugs, nodding but understanding where Krel was coming from.

“Fine.” Arthur decided. “I will show the troll mercy. He will live... in the dungeon.”

“Jim!” Claire attempts to follow as he is taken to the dungeon, being stopped and comforted by Douxie.

“As for you, Hisirdoux, shouldn’t you be with Merlin?”

“Well, yes, but you see...” Douxie raked his mind for something to say “I was-“

“I apologize, your highness, but Hisirdoux was busy attempting to help me. I have communicated with him and he intends to help me get back into my original body. If it is impossible, I’ll understand, however. While we are here, if I appear human or not, I do believe my friends and I can help with this war that Hisirdoux has mentioned before.” Krel flares at Douxie as this war had not been mentioned before, who in response glares back as the Akiridion had just interrupted him. “In my country, I am known for my intellect, and I do not wish to take from someone without returning something.”

“So in exchange for me helping him and his curse, he, Claire, and Steve, will help us in the war.” Douxie summarized, not entirely sure if Krel is capable of getting his point through with his sudden usage of fancier tongue.

“Alright. Sir Steve will work with the knights, Prince Krel I believe should work with you, Hisirdoux, and as for mistress Claire?”

“I will take her. I’ve been in need of a new handmaiden.” Krel sees the pleas of help and burning anger in Claire’s eyes as Morgana steps up for her.

“Alright. Now go, I have a kingdom to protect.” Arthur ushered them away.

“Okay Krel what was that?” Steve hissed before the separated, the threat of not seeing Aja again still holding its effect. “Last I checked, you didn’t act like a prince much.”

“Theater practice at school.” Claire starts. “Krel has gotten very good at improv.”

“You are in the play?” Steve was astonished.

“Yes, while you have been too busy complaining about Eli and Aja going to Akiridion-5, I was increasing my knowledge on human culture, of the present and the past, or would it be the future and the present.”

“It doesn’t matter. Krel, you did amazing. I was here during this time and I still wasn’t as fast as you to know what to say!”

“Did you just say you were-are here?” Krel asked.

“Oh fuzz buckets.”

The group separates, although partially unwillingly. Steve goes with Sir Lancelot, Claire with Lady Morgana, and Krel with a very nervous Douxie.

Part one Part three

[we-stan-nikolai]

Cost of the Crown

The stars are very beautiful, above the palace walls,

They shine with equal splendour, still above far humbler halls.

I watch them from my window, but their bright entrancing glow,

Reminds me of the freedom I gave up so long ago.

Arthur stood at the window of his chambers, staring up to the night sky, illuminated only by the bright glow of the stars.

He used to love the stars. When he was still the prince rather than king. But now... Now they made him feel melancholic. They reminded him of nights spend outside, watching the stars, not worrying about anything more than how to improve his fighting skills. They reminded him of moonlight kisses, of happy smiles, being happy in general. They reminded him of how it felt, not having to worry about everything, not having to mourn death and misery.

He still loved the stars, they were beautiful after all. If only they wouldn't bring memories crashing down, memories to compare with how he felt now. Memories who made him crave to turn back time, longing for that much easier life he had.

The Royal circlet of bright gold rests lightly on my brow,

I once thought only of the rights this circlet would endow.

But once I took the crown, to which I had been schooled and bred,

I found it heavy on the heart, though light upon the head.

There was a glimmer visible from his bedside table. Arthur practically felt the light pressure his crown usually put on his head. It wasn't heavy. Not this one at least, it was his daily one, not the big ceremonial crown. And even that one was manageable. Especially if one was used to it. And that he was.

That crown also reminded him of his earlier days. But, opposing to the familiar glow of the stars, his crown brought back memories of how foolish he had been. How arrogant. What a prat he had been, entitled by his, well, title as prince of Camelot. He was lucky, having found someone to show him his bratty behaviour. But still - he had looked forward to being crowned. Once again he wished for the ability to turn back time. To prepare his younger self for the pain that would shadow his coronation, the pain and loss that was about to come.

Although I am the head of state, in truth I am the least,

The true Queen knows her people fed, before she sits to feast.

The good Queen knows her people safe, before she takes her rest,

Thinks twice and thrice and yet again, before she makes request.

For they are all my children,all, that I swore to defend,

It is my duty to become both Queen and trusted friend.

And of my children high and low, from beggar to above,

The dearest are my Heralds, who return my care with love.

He always thought as king everything would go like he wanted it to. He thought he could do as he pleased. But he quickly had to learn that everything he did as king was for his people. He realized that his personal interests always came at last - hence why he waited so long to finally accept that his personal interests were the only thing that mattered in terms of his love life.

In hindsight he knew that he should have made the step earlier, for a happy king leads to a happy kingdom.

He glanced down at his left hand, catching sight of the shimmering silver decorating his finger. The slightest hint of a smile stole itself on his face, only to vanish a second later.

He got his happiness. Others didn't. He, as king, was supposed to ensure the safety of his people. He was supposed to make sure they were alright. It was more or less his job to enable all of them, no matter which social rank they hold, to live their life safely.

But most important to him were his knights. The people who stood with him. Who were his friends, his advisors. Who loved him.

The dearest are my Heralds, swift to spring to my command.

Who give me aid and fellowship, who always understand

That land and people first have needs that I may not deny.

So I must send my dearest friends to danger—and to die.

A friend, a love, a child—it matters not, I know indeed,

That I must sacrifice them all if there should be the need.

They know, and they forgive me—doing more than I require,

With willing minds and loving hearts go straight to grasp the fire.

His knights. His warriors, his insurance. The people who fought beside him, who died next to him. They understood the risks of being a knight. They understood that they might not return from one of the trips, but still came with him, still fought, still died. They understood that the well-being of Camelot was more important than a single life - or hundreds for that matter. His friends still stood beside him, and he might once have to send them to death. The dearest of his knights were the knights of the Round Table. The knights who went through so many dangers with him. And, oh lord, how many did he sent to ruin?

Lancelot. Sacrificed and later used to destroy Arthurs trust in Gwen, who he had been wanting to marry because she knew about him and his secrets. Arthur never wanted to cast her away. She was truly in love with Lance, but had been ready to cover as Arthurs wife. And because of that, her love was ripped away in the most cruel manner he could have imagined. He did not only lose Lancelot, the most loyal out of all of them, he also destroyed one of his dearest friends in the process because he wasn't brave enough to face his council about his love life.

Elyan. Another person dear to Gwen. Died trying to save his sister, who had been captured and tortured to hurt Arthur.

And at last - Gwaine and Percival. Gwaine - Merlins best friend, died because Morgana had tortured him to get go know their location. Died while trying to help Merlin save Arthur. Died believing he failed at it. And died, leaving Percival behind. They hadn't been official, though on the best way to it. Percival wasn't the same, still shocked, for it hadn't been a day since Gwaine passed away directly in front of him.

The worst part of it all, it had been Arthur who sent them, no, led them  in the missions that cost them their lives or loved ones. It had been Arthur who had doomed them.

These tears that burn my eyes are all the tears the Queen can't shed,

The tears I weep in silence as I mourn my Heralds dead.

Oh gods that dwell beyond the stars, if you can hear my cry—

And if you have compassion—let me send no more to die!

As Arthur stood there, gazing at the stars, re-living all the terrible things that happend to those close to him, tears welled up in his eyes. He spiralled into questions of what if? and tried to cope with everything, especially with the things happening the last days. A lot had happened - he almost died, hadn't it been for Merlin, he lost Gwaine and so many more in Camlann, and Arthur found himself doubting every single one of his decisions as king.

Could he have prevented Morgana from ripping the veil between the worlds to save Lance? Could he have protected Gwen from being kidnapped and tortured at the Black Tower? Could he have prevented Mordred from turning on him? Could he...

A quiet rustle shook him from his thoughts, followed by light tapping of bare feet on the cold stone floor. Arthur didn't turn around. "What are you doing out of bed? You need rest, you just survived being stabbed!" Arthur still didn't react. Arms went around his waist from behind, a chin came resting on his right shoulder. The king glanced down at the hands on his stomach, catching the sight of a thin silver band matching his. He still didn't say anything, but he put his hands on his spouse's, thankful of the constance he provided. His consort gave him a reassuring squeeze, and Arthur led out a sigh.

"It's just... It is my fault. Gwaine. Lance. Elyan. All the others." He finally failed to restrain the tears that threatened to spill out of his eyes, and his love was there to steady him. "Shh... It's alright. It's not your fault, Arthur." The king turned around. "It is, Merlin, and you know it! They're dead because of me. It's my fault, my guilt to carry. I send so many good people to die. It's... it's the Cost of the Crown, I think." The sorcerer, his husband, raised his hands to wipe away the tears. "You don't have to carry that weight alone, Arthur. You can share it with me. Just like we do with everything else." Arthur nodded slightly, though still doubting himself. "And please, Arthur, it's not your fault they died. They died for what they believed would grow to be the greatest kingdom to ever exist. They died to make sure you could fulfill your destiny. You can mourn them, you can weep over them, it's alright and simply human, but Arthur, I'm begging you, don't let what happened destroy you." Arthur rested his forehead against his husband's. "You're right. I'll try."

"Good. And now you're coming back to bed and won't move out there until I say so, because I don't want you catching an illness and dying of it, I didn't drag you through the forest for nothing, dear." Arthur let out a small chuckle and let himself be pulled back to the bed and tucked into the sheets, Merlin climbing in and drawing him close.

"Thank you, Merlin. I love you. I always will." Merlin snuggled up further into his chest. "I love you too. And Arthur?" "Hmm?" "It's alright to mourn and grief. You don't need to hide it. We all miss them. But doubting everything you did won't bring them back. It'll only hurt you, and that's the exact opposite of what they would want. Take all the time you need to cope. You can share the weight with my, Arthur. After all, I didn't become Crown Consort for nothing, now, did I?" Arthur draw Merlin even closer after that, pressing a kiss into his husband's hair. "No, you didn't. And I am beyond thankful for that."

[agentdagonet]

Echoes, Ch. 14

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Fic Summary: Feet dangling off the edge of the bed, hands still resting on the earpieces of his glasses, Eggsy opened his eyes.

  And promptly shut them again, screwing them shut like a child who had the distinct misfortune of biting into a raw lemon. Breathing harshly in his nose and out his mouth, trying to stave off whatever delusional panic had befallen him, Eggsy reopened his eyes.

‘Harry?’

Or: The Hologram Story Nobody Asked For

          There was a moment Merlin had near instantly regretted: turning off the screens after Valentine had killed Harry in Kentucky.

          By doing so he’d not only turned off the audio transmission that would have likely given him more notice of Valentine’s plan (instead of waiting for Eggsy and a fucking corpse to come through the train) but had shut off the homing beacon. Of course he knew where the church was, but by the time everything had settled enough to try and locate Harry’s body cleanups had long since begun. There were too many injured for hospitals to contain, and the dead were collected and families contacted before being cremated- those without easily contacted families were tagged anonymously with their place of death and their general physical appearances. The assumption was that anyone who knew those people would search through the databanks until everyone was claimed.

          Unfortunately, a man in his fifties with spectacles and chestnut-salted hair and a square jaw was a rather common description. And, to prevent people from claiming ashes of people they did not know (for whatever reason they would do so, though Merlin couldn’t think of one), the companies who ran the databases required a photograph of the deceased to compare against the one in their physical files. They did not put the gruesome photographs of those in question publicly on the sites for rather obvious reasons, but that made it difficult to wade through the vague descriptions at anything near a fast-pace. You had to send a message to every file that may apply individually, and then wait for responses to each of those individually, and only THEN would they request the photograph to compare against their own.

          It was tedious. Maddening. And something he’d quickly delegated to a program while trying to dual-wield the most important positions in Kingsman.

          Eggsy had been very gung-ho about finding Harry, and Merlin had used cold facts to dissuade him from going off on his own to find him. There likely isn’t even a body anymore, he’d said, don’t dishonour his memory by flitting off on some useless quest. Let the computer do that, and do something to actually help the world move on from this. Be a proper Kingsman. Eggsy’d done so, begrudgingly, and had never really stopped mourning- stopped trying to hide it sometimes, even.

          Now Merlin felt like a right tit, staring blankly at a message that not only debunked his assumptions of there being no body to go back for, but made incredibly clear that he’d actually abandoned his closest friend in his greatest time of need. It was a difficult pill to swallow.

          Eggsy’d just started looking proper human again, after the whole hologram fiasco. And he’d have to shatter the man anew, and deal with the blows as they fell. Likely literally, considering his temper.

          Merlin gave himself a moment longer to come to terms with his likely-imminent future before springing into action, setting himself to track the message back to its destination. There were footsteps incoming, but he ignored them; stopping what he was doing to look up wouldn’t stop the inevitable.

          But, instead of the shove or angry slap he’d expected from Eggsy, there was a delicate hand on his shoulder. Lancelot leant her body weight against him to get a better look at his screen, and her hand tightened near-painfully moments later.

‘You’ve found the body?’

          ‘There is no body.’

‘Then what’s the frantic typing for?’

          ‘He’s not dead.’

‘... Pardon?’

          ‘The bloody peacock just sent a message- to the Merlin and Arthur lines.’

-

          The day’d started out like most of the ones that had passed since Eggsy’d come to terms with sharing a house with a holographic ghost: slowly. He got up, made himself a quick brekkie and idly pulled up a file at random from the laptop in the Office. As personable as Haz was, it was still not Harry- it had been, but it wasn’t if that made any sense outside of his head.

          1 new message a small pop-up at the base of the screen read, and Eggsy was far too impulsive a person no to immediately click on the thing.

Galahad,

Eggsy, if you’re reading this then, as I’d hoped most dearly, you’ve become a Kingsman. More than that, you’ve gotten into my system and likely gone through the files in here- good show.

I want you to know how incredibly proud of you, that despite every sign otherwise I could not be more proud of the man you are. Soft-hearted or sentimental, we are all human at the end of all things- and you happen to be one with an incredible strength I couldn’t understand. Your caring so deeply is not a weakness- it is your greatest strength; your sense of justice is far more important than any order. You do the right thing even when it is the most difficult, you put yourself at risk to protect those weaker than yourself- and that’s the mark of a true Gentleman. A proper Kingsman.

I told you that Kingsman only condones the risking of one life to save another- but in my foolishness I assumed that it only applied to people. Life doesn’t stop at humanity, and I thank you deeply for reminding me of that.

With that out of the way, I’d like to ask a rather personal favour:

Get me out of Kentucky

Sincerely,

H. Hart

Eggsy couldn’t stop himself from gasping, one hand clutched at nonexistent pearls as the other pulled at his hair. A bit painful but, much like pinching oneself to be sure they weren’t dreaming, it grounded Eggsy and reminded him that this was reality. This was real, had really just happened- he wasn’t imagining it in some desperate bid to get Merlin to let him go across an ocean for what was left of a man he’d known a scant few months.

Harry was alive.

Eggsy wandered from the room in a daze, pulling on his trackies and a tee before slipping on his trainers and running out the door- straight through the Haz by the downstairs loo. He couldn’t remember if he’d locked the door or not- but no matter, Merlin wouldn’t let anyone take anything from Harry’s house.

Merlin. He had to tell Merlin. Eggsy changed his mental route a little, deciding against simply stealing a plane from the hangar and instead going straight to Merlin to break the news as gently as he could before commandeering a way to Kentucky with or without his permission. The taxi stopped at the Shop, and Eggsy tried to be inconspicuous as he walked at at an idle pace to the proper Dressing Room and slipped inside. Difficult in street clothes, what with it being so high class and all, but he managed. Eventually the train let him out at HQ, and he was greeted by silence.

That in and of itself was odd, considering how much was going wrong in the world at any one time, but what was stranger was the open door at the end of the hall. Merlin didn’t leave his door open, didn’t like the unspoken invitation into his space and relished in the moments between knock and someone encroaching on his territory. Eggsy relished in ignoring those unspoken rules and breaking in anyway, which wasn’t happening today, apparently.

Eggsy had intended to walk into Merlin’s office, intended to be breathing evenly and speak calmly when upturning Merlin’s worldview. Unfortunately, Eggsy’s body made a few rather different decisions without the input of his brain.

‘HARRY’SALIVEINKENTUCKY!’ It wasn’t yelled, but only by a fraction- and only Roxy looked up at him at the exclamation.

‘Oh?’ She raised an eyebrow at him, and Merlin didn’t pause in his typing- though his lips twitched. Eggsy took a fortifying breath before trying again.

‘Harry. He’s alive. In Kentucky. Sent a message. I need a plane.’ He panted it out between breaths, leant heavily on the desk, and eventually looked up to try and meet Merlin’s eyes.

‘I’m trying to pinpoint his location now, actually- he sent a message to Arthur. And Merlin.’ Somehow Eggsy was disappointed with the revelation that he was not only not the only person to receive a message from their thought-fallen Knight, but he had also lost the opportunity to share this moment with Merlin, the only other man who had mourned Harry past the Kingsman Toast.

‘Why don’ you just ping the specs, then?’

‘He was shot in the face Eggsy, I highly doubt that any of the homing beacons are functional between that and whatever aftermath led him to wherever he is now.’

‘Then what’s the harm in tryin’? Worst tha’ could go wrong is you get no response, but best? At best you get his location right now and we’re en route to the bastard before noon. C’mon- let’s bring him home, yeah?’ Eggsy whispered, looked at the surface of the desk instead of Merlin’s face until after he was done. The typing slowly stopped, and instead Merlin leant over and pressed a button.

The screens flashed a few times, black then white and black again before clearing up. What remained was a world map, with little “You Are Here” arrows scattered about seemingly at random. Gawain was in Madrid, Percival Honduras, Dagonet at the Shop, and a small cluster labelled Lancelot, Merlin, and Galahad in the middle of England.

Another arrow labelled Galahad in Kentucky, which seemed to blink out of existence every few moments- but it was there.

‘Well? What’re we waitin’ for?’ Eggsy idly memorised the coordinates, and began making his way to the hangar. Merlin and Roxy took a moment more to catch up to him, but he barely noticed when he was no longer alone. He was a man on a mission.

Bring him home.

[winglesscrows]

I’m Yours Ch. 5

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Merlin (BBC) I T I Merlin & Arthur I 37k WIP

Merlin had secrets, and Arthur knew nothing of them, until, slowly, he did.

In which Arthur slowly unravels the mystery that is Merlin, and begins to realize just how much he doesn’t know.

Read on AO3 I Patreon I FF.net or under cut

“Sire,” Lancelot called to Arthur as they passed each other in the hallway. It was quite late into the afternoon, and Arthur was already thinking about dinner and rest. He had spent most of the day discussing politics with the council and his father, and his brain was slowly turning to mush. Politics weren’t usually something Arthur hated, but calculating how much grain should be given to each village based on the number of children, elderly, pregnant women and working adults, while factoring in the varying geographical circumstances of all of the villages, well, that wasn’t really one of Arthur’s favorite topics. However, Arthur was particularly fond of discussing infrastructure and was pushing the council to pass a suggestion to start work on a new road which would make travel easier for many from the outlying villages, who wished to come to the city for trading or other purposes. So far, they had more or less ignored him and his wishes for a new road.

Regardless, the point was that Arthur was tired, but Lancelot was always good company, “Yes?” Arthur answered, stopping to converse with his knight. There weren’t many people around them, only the passing servants who were getting ready to serve dinner for the inhabitants of the castle.

“I heard that you plan to have some knights escort Lord Agravaine on his travels,” the knight began and Arthur nodded.

“That is true, although I don’t believe that to be public information yet,” Arthur smiled, teasing Lancelot was always a little fun, only because he usually got the joke about three seconds later, and always looked slightly baffled when he thought he had done something wrong.

“Merlin talks,” Lancelot explained, a smile growing on his face as he had realized Arthur was joking.

“He does,” Arthur agreed, “It’s a bad habit of his.”

They both smiled, but Lancelot continued, “Regardless, sire, I wanted to request that I became a part of this mission.”

“Really?” Arthur lifted an eyebrow, “I think you are a bit too talented to go on such an excursion.”

“Perhaps, sire, but I want grow in any way I can, so what I came here to ask was if I could lead the mission. If that isn’t too arrogant of me,” Lancelot bowed slightly to show his respect, but Arthur beamed. He had planned on sending out some of the more… inexperienced knights on this little mission, but if it could serve to let Lancelot grow more comfortable in a leader position, then it would be excellent.

“That is a great idea, Lancelot,” Arthur said, not even trying to hide his smile, “If you are ready to lead, I think you would be very fit to do so. I’ll have a list send to your quarters of the knights available for your mission, and you shall choose five. I would also like you to write a short essay explaining your choice of knights.”

“You shall have it within a day, sire.”

Lancelot disappeared down the corridor and Arthur felt more awake than before. Lancelot was his finest swordsman, and a couple of years younger than sir Leon. When Arthur became king, Leon would be first knight, but Arthur was looking to incorporate Leon into a council position at some point. Leon wasn’t only a fine knight, but a skilled tactician and a naturally observant person. With many years of military service, Leon could prove very useful in the council, and when that time came - whether naturally or forcefully - Arthur would love for Lancelot to be first knight. Not only was he incredibly skilled and perfect for the job, but he wasn’t of noble blood, and when Arthur was king, he would remove the laws that prevented others like him to become knights. Having Lancelot as first knight would be a great example of status not mattering, but only what was in your heart. But more than just that, Arthur was happy that Lancelot was taking agency as a knight with much potential.

Arthur came back to his chambers with food ready on the table and Merlin tidying his desk. He was still not allowed to do everything that he wanted to, but at least he wasn’t complaining a lot about it. Merlin was in a good mood today, Arthur noted, as the sound of Merlin’s humming reached his ears. Arthur could only wonder why, because his servant was often in a good mood for trivial reasons (last time Arthur had asked, Merlin had simply said that he was happy because the sun was shining). Merlin didn’t acknowledge that Arthur had entered the room, perhaps because he hadn’t noticed as he was standing with his back to Arthur. The prince watched the back of his servant for a moment. One would hardly think that he was recovering from two serious injuries with the way he was behaving.

Other than Merlin’s humming, the room was silent - so silent in fact that Arthur could hear when Merlin went through the papers on his desk, orienting himself on what everything was so he could organize it correctly. It was only then that it occurred to Arthur how much he let Merlin be privy to. Merlin was free to read everything Arthur left on his desk, Arthur confided in Merlin when it came to matters of state, and he let Merlin advise him on whatever the topic of the month was. And somehow the realization only put a smile on Arthur’s face.

Arthur was also in a good mood today, and when Arthur was in a good mood, he liked to mess with his servant. Arthur silently snuck up behind Merlin, until he was less than an arm length away from him. He then brought his hands together to make a loud clap, and watched with delight as Merlin jumped and threw all the papers up in the air.

“Arthur!” He exclaimed, and Arthur burst out laughing at the sight of his servant, “Not funny!”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Arthur said between laughs, and then he slowly composed himself again.

“You are horrible,” Merlin shook his head, “Now I have to start over,” Merlin gestured to the mess of papers that now covered Arthur’s floor.

“I’m sure you’ll manage,” Arthur said and clapped Merlin on the back, “Now come and eat with me.”

“What?” Merlin said in disbelief and Arthur almost burst out laughing again.

“You heard me. You keep bringing up way too much food so I have to assume you eat everything that I don’t anyway. Might as well keep me company.”

Merlin squinted his eyes, trying to see if Arthur was joking (to be fair he had done that before), but then eventually pulled out another plate, cutlery and cup, and sat down with Arthur.

“Lancelot came up to me today,” Arthur said, studying Merlin’s reaction.

“Did he?” Merlin said casually, “What did he want?”

“He wanted to lead the escort of knights that Agravaine is taking with him next week.”

“That seems like a great opportunity for him,” Merlin said, and Arthur knew that if he hadn't known what to look for, he would never have known that Merlin was lying to him, or rather, deflecting from the truth (at least this time it was more in jest than anything).

“Don’t pretend you don’t know,” Arthur said and gave Merlin a little shove. Merlin smiled knowingly.

“I really don’t know what you mean.”

“Only three people knew that Agravaine was taking knights with him on his journey. I didn’t tell Lancelot anything, and I’m sure my uncle didn’t either, so who do you think let him know?”

“Probably Gwaine,” Merlin said and gestured into nothing, “He couldn’t keep a secret even if his life depended on it.”

Arthur shook his head, and Merlin smiled at him. One day, Merlin wouldn’t lie to him anymore, but Arthur could live with this. This was fine. Truly.

“You are close,” Arthur said slowly, “You and Lancelot,” Arthur didn’t know where he was going with this topic, but he was interested in knowing more about what made them such good friends. He was also quite interested in knowing what Merlin and Gwaine had in common that made them good friends, but Arthur didn’t think his brain was ready to wrap itself around that just yet.

“He saved my life the moment we met,” Merlin said, “Don’t really get better first impressions than that.”

“It definitely beats being called an ass.”

“Hey!”

“You’re still very close though,” Arthur continued, “You could have told anyone about the mission, but you told Lancelot, why?”

“He deserves it,” Merlin shrugged, “Besides, you look at him differently than you do at the others. Like you expect more of him. Thought I’d give him a hand, since you have high expectations.”

“Are you saying I’m hard to please?”

“Very much so.”

Dinner with Merlin was easy. There was no awkward silence, although they always seemed to have something to talk about.

"I've been wondering," Merlin said slowly, and Arthur rolled his eyes in jest.

"That requires thinking, Merlin, you think you can do that?"

Merlin groaned lightly and shook his head, "Honestly, Arthur, you're such an ass."

"I think that's well established by now, but what were you wondering? I am curious."

Merlin took a breath, perhaps to steady himself and Arthur braced himself for their conversation taking a turn.

"When I told you about Nimueh, you didn't question that I sought to magic for help," Merlin seemed resolute in his statement, "I simply wanted to know your thoughts about... everything I told you."

Arthur sighed. Were they really doing this now?

"I have a lot of thoughts," Arthur said truthfully, "But I suppose we can start with the magic. Honestly, I didn't think much of it," Merlin seemed surprised by this fact, and rightfully so. Arthur had grown up with a father who had beaten it into his skull that magic was evil to its very core, "When you told your story, I think it finally occurred to me just what you are willing to do to keep me safe – which I am not happy about by the way – and if I had had the knowledge you did, that I could exchange my life for someone I cared about, I would probably have done it too."

"But," Merlin pushed, "It's magic."

And that was another thing. Magic wasn't just illegal in Camelot and punishable by death, but just hearing the word sent his father into a frenzy. For a long time, Arthur had believed his father's words regarding the forbidden art. After all, he had only ever seen magic being used for evil. But slowly, ever so slowly, it occurred to Arthur why that was. Who would dare use magic to grow a plant, when it could get them killed? And who would shy away from it if they intended to kill the king? The idea of his father being wrong had been slowly growing, and evidence had slowly piled up. The light guiding him to safety as he had retrieved the antidote for Merlin. The magic that had cured Gwen's father. The keeper of the unicorns, Anhora. The druids going about their life peacefully.

And Arthur thought that in some ways, Morgana was proof as well. Morgana hadn't turned on them because she had magic, Arthur refused to believe that. She had turned on them because of how Camelot treated those with magic. Magic could do frightening things, but Arthur had to believe that it could do good things as well. When Arthur had thought Merlin's story through, it had made sense to him that Merlin wouldn't shy away from using magic. He hadn't grown up in Uther's kingdom, but in Cenred's. He had grown up in a place where magic was legal. So Arthur had not thought much of it when Merlin had told the story and when he had finally thought it through, it just made sense to him, so he had let it go entirely. To Arthur, the core of the story was that Merlin had sacrificed himself for him, and he wanted to avoid that Merlin would have to do it again.

"It was magic and I'm alive because of it, so there isn't really much I can say to that," Arthur ended up saying, and Merlin nodded slowly, perhaps processing Arthur's reply, "But maybe we should talk less about how you did it and more about why."

Merlin looked startled for a moment, before regaining composure and looking intently at Arthur: “I believe I already explained why. You can't already have forgotten, can you, sire?”

Arthur huffed, it was just like Merlin to make light of the situation. “Of course not. Do you really think so lightly of me?”

Merlin rolled his eyes dramatically, “I don't think you want me to answer that question, my lord.”

“But seriously Merlin,” Arthur said, getting back on topic, “You can't just... use yourself as a shield every time I'm in danger. Didn't it ever occur to you that I don't want you to die?”

“I...” Merlin hesitated, seemingly at a loss for words, “It's not that simple.”

“And why not?”

“Arthur, don't you get it? You have to live. If there's the tiniest chance that my life can keep you alive just a day longer, then I have to take it. You have no idea how precious you are. How important you are to this kingdom and its people.”

“Merlin, I understand well enough what my role as the future king-”

“No.” Merlin interrupted harshly, “Arthur. You don't understand. The actions you take. The decisions you make. Everything you do shape this kingdom and make it a better place. Look at your knights. Look at Gwen. Look at me . You give us something to believe in. Give us hope for a brighter future, because we know that you act out of the good of your heart.”

Arthur looked at Merlin in disbelief, “How can you be so sure? I ruled this kingdom for three months and it was overwhelming. It was harder than I could have imagined, and you must have noticed. You were with me every day. How can you have that kind of faith in me?”

Merlin forced a laugh, and looked at Arthur hopelessly: “You are an arrogant, royal prat, Arthur Pendragon, but sometimes I wished you were more confident in yourself.”

Arthur had nothing to say after that, and they finished dinner in silence.

“You didn't touch any of the chicken,” Arthur remarked as Merlin cleaned the table, “You need meat to grow muscle.”

“Ah,” Merlin said slowly, “I try to avoid meat. Not a big fan.”

“I would ask how a person can't like meat, but for some reason I assume that it's because you feel sorry for the animals?”

“Something like that.”

Arthur shook his head and it felt like they had never had that heavy conversation. The rest of the night felt normal.

And then came morning, and Arthur had to confront all the things Merlin had said the night before. Arthur wasn't sure if he wanted to see Merlin at this particular time. He wanted time to think, and it was hard to think about Merlin, when Merlin was there.

And whether by luck or design, Guinevere entered his chambers with breakfast, and while he was always happy to see her, he honestly couldn't say that he always got this delighted when she walked up to him.

“Merlin said he was behind on some chores, and I offered to bring you breakfast,” Guinevere explained, less to say why she was here and probably more to let Arthur know that Merlin wasn't slacking off on his duties. She was quite protective of him.

“Mind staying?” Arthur offered and pulled out a chair for Guinevere at the table, which she gladly accepted.

Perceptive as she was, Arthur hadn't even taken his second bite of breakfast before Guinevere asked what was troubling him.

“It's Merlin,” he said honestly, “He keeps getting hurt.”

Guinevere but her lip at that, and something occurred to Arthur. He had never asked her about the relationship between the servants, and certain knights and nobles.

“Did you know?” Arthur said quietly, “About sir Richard?”

Guinevere lowered her head as she answered: “I did, Arthur, I'm sorry I didn't tell you, I-”

“It's okay,” Arthur assured her, “Merlin told me that he made everyone promise to keep it a secret.”

“He's usually okay,” She continued, “There was a boy, once, about three years ago, the man he was waiting on would beat him every night. He almost couldn't walk by the end of the week, so Merlin stepped in. It was the first time, at least that I know of. We were all so scared for him, but there was nothing we could do. And Merlin, he was fine. At first we thought he was just putting up a facade, but we checked him. Barely a bruise to be found. He's not always that lucky, of course, but it's never... He's never...”

“I know,” Arthur said, “It's not your fault.”

“For what it's worth, I think you were right to kill him.”

Arthur looked at her, slightly startled, “That wasn't my intention.”

“I know. I know, but anyone who treats someone like Merlin so poorly, I can't help but think the world is a better place without people like that in it.”

“Perhaps,” Arthur said slowly. He wasn't fond of killing. And especially killing his own knights, even if what he had done was unforgivable.

“Be more confident, Arthur Pendragon,” She sternly, “It would suit you.”

Arthur smiled sweetly at her: “Merlin said the same last night.”

“Of course he did. He always gives the best advice.”

Guinevere left soon after, having other duties to attend to. Arthur regretted not seeing her more, but there was nothing he could do. Not as long as they had his father's watchful gaze on them.

Arthur stayed in his chambers most of the day. He had paperwork to do, and it wouldn't do him any good to put it off. Besides, it looked like it would rain, so training could wait until tomorrow. Arthur made it way past lunchtime before he finally heard Merlin clumsily making his way down the hallway – hopefully with some food – but he still wasn't in the mood to see him, so, mature as he was, Arthur hid in his own chambers.

From Arthur's excellent hiding spot, he could see as Merlin put down the plate of food at the table, and set the table for Arthur to eat, even if he wasn't there. He half expected Merlin to leave after that, but was weirdly surprised to see Merlin do his job and do a quick sweep of the room. Merlin eventually made it to Arthur's desk where his papers were still scattered, and Merlin looked at them for a while, perhaps contemplating if he should put them away or if Arthur would come back to it.

Merlin never got around to make a decision as someone entered the chambers. Merlin turned his attention towards the door, clearly expecting Arthur to walk in as he smiled, but his expression faltered immediately as he laid eyes upon Agravaine. His uncle closed the door behind him and looked around the room before addressing Merlin.

“Where is Arthur?” His uncle asked politely, but Merlin just sighed.

“I'm afraid I don't know.” (At least that wasn't a lie.)

There were a couple of seconds of uncomfortable silence, and Arthur swore he could cut the tension between them with his sword.

“I know you think that Arthur is your friend,” Agravaine finally broke the silence, “But he is a prince, a future king, and he cannot be seen taking advice from servants. I would advise you to hold your tongue and stick to cleaning his chambers.”

“Of course,” Merlin said, the fake respect back in his voice, “But you should know that I am very bad at doing what I am told.”

Agravaine took a couple of steps closer to Merlin, and Arthur found his protective instincts kicking in as he almost leaped out of his hiding spot to interfere with whatever was going on.

“Come on Merlin,” Agravaine pushed, almost intimidating Merlin (or at least he tried to, Merlin didn't waver in the slightest), “You can't possibly believe that you can advise Arthur better than someone like me.”

“Oh, I think anyone could advice Arthur better than you, my lord,” Merlin added the last part mockingly, “Morgana must really have hit rock bottom to allow someone like you to work for her. She used to be smarter than this.”

“Be careful with your accusations, boy,” Agravaine hissed, “You don't know what you're talking about.”

“Of course not, my lord,” Merlin bowed slightly, “I shall inform Arthur that you dropped by.”

Agravaine turned on his heel and slammed the door shut behind him. Merlin watched the door for a second, before casually turning back to Arthur's papers, which he began sorting through. Arthur could only watch his servant secretly as he went about his business as if nothing had ever happened – no, that wasn't true. Merlin was frustrated. Merlin was usually careful when handling paperwork, but he slammed documents on the table harder than necessary and his movements were more rapid than usual.

It had been perhaps ten minutes, when a certain piece of paper caught Merlin's attention. Arthur recognized it from his hiding place. It was a speech he had written only an hour ago about the new road he wanted to build. It was meant to sway the council and his father, since nothing else had seemed to work. Merlin read it through, and then sat down in Arthur chair and began writing all over the speech. Great. Now he had to start over.

Arthur was stuck watching – spying on – Merlin for almost an hour before the servant took his sword (presumably to clean and sharpen it) and left his chambers. Arthur silently slipped out of hiding and immediately looked at the speech Merlin had tampered with, only to find himself surprised by Merlin's work. Merlin had carefully corrected a few grammatical errors (errors Arthur had made entirely because he had been hungry), and added suggestions where he thought they were needed. At the bottom of the parchment, Merlin had added the suggestion to ask the citizens about the need for a new road in order for Arthur to prove its potential usefulness. It was a great suggestion that Arthur couldn't believe he had thought of himself, and he made sure to save the draft of his speech so that he may remember.

Arthur should have continued the paperwork or maybe even eaten the lunch Merlin had brought up for him, but once again his mind drifted to his servant and his uncle. At least now he knew that Merlin suspected Agravaine of working for Morgana, and logically Arthur knew he should be wary of such suspicions. Merlin had been right in the past and it would be wise to trust him, but the way the conversation had gone down made it seem like Merlin didn't have any evidence. It was almost like he had attempted to bait Agravaine into a confession as he had accused him of working for Morgana. And his uncle hadn't taken the bait, although his reaction was not what Arthur would have expected from him. And of course the effort Agravaine went through to try to stop Merlin's advice from getting to Arthur was quite suspicious in and of itself.

Arthur knew that he was putting it off, but it he felt conflicted about the whole situation. He was secretly hoping that Merlin would come up to him someday and give him the evidence he needed, but if there was no evidence to give, then what could Arthur do? Agravaine seemed to have his father's trust and without evidence, Arthur couldn't arrest him or tell his father that he suspected his uncle of treason based on the suspicions of his servant. It hadn't worked out for him in the past, and he doubt it would now. Especially as a family member was involved.

Tomorrow he would talk to Merlin, but today his mind needed some time to rest. Too much was going on.

Arthur didn't see Merlin that evening, his dinner brought up by some nameless servant and he went to bed trying not to worry about the people who could so easily kill him in his sleep.

Unfortunately, Arthur should have worried because he woke up to a stranger hovering above him, his eyes growing wide as Arthur stared back at him. He took hold of his dagger just as Arthur reached for his sword.