#if anyone can get merlin back to camelot lancelot can

[arthurslesbian]

arthur's face when he had to entrust merlin to the care of another man 😭😭😭

[larluce]

Arthur thinks Merlin was raped (but he wasn't)

This is kind of a prequel to this post, click here if you want more context -> LINK

Tagging @cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu , @odinjm , @hssmaureader , @daniella0 , @stressed-but-chill , @smileytrinity

When Arthur finds Merlin in the woods after being lost for 3 weeks, he feels so much joy. He doesn't remember feeling so much joy in his life. Merlin is dirty, his clothes riped and with dry blood, but alive. And that’s all he cares right now.

Arthur: (more than happy and relieved) Merlin! I thought we lost you (goes to him to give him a hug, thinking) That I lost you.

Merlin: (Backs away quickly before Arthur can hug him, wide eye and terrified)

Arthur: (confused) Merlin?

Gwain: Merls, it's us, relax (extends a hand)

Merlin: (shakes his head, frantic, and goes limping to hide behind a tree)

Lancelot: (worried) Merlin... (aproaches carefully) Merlin, it's okay. You're safe now (extends his hand, gently, with a reassuring smile).

Merlin: (shakes his head again and tries to say something but he can't, so he whimpers quietly)

Lancelot: No touching, alright. (Lifts his hands in surrender) No one is going to touch you.

Arthur: (approaches as carefully as Lancelot did) Do you recognise us? (Thinking, begging) Please, say you do.

Merlin: (Nods and tries to speak again, but closes his mouth, frustrated)

Arthur: (realises, heartbroken) You can't speak.

Arthur and the knights can only imagine the horrors Merlin endured. It's obvious he was tortured but they didn't know how much of his new behaviour is result of physical damage or trauma. For example, is Merlin too traumatized to speak or is he physically unable? Did his tortures cut his tonge? Damaged his vocal chords? And what the hell have they done to Merlin to make him so afraid of human touch?

With a lot of reassuring and patience, they manage to bring Merlin back to Camelot. It was difficult not to touch him when he kept limping and falling. And Merlin refused to use a horse for some reason, no matter how much they insisted, so they had to get a cart to transport him. When they finally arrive, they bring him to Gaius immediately so the physician can check him, but Merlin doesn't let him touch him either and he locks himself in his room. It takes days for Gaius to have a formal diagnosis for the king.

Gaius: (reports painfully) He was starved, beaten, cut, whiped and burned several times for what I could see.

Arthur: For what you could see?

Gaius: He wouldn't let me see all the wounds (sighs). He was also immobilized with chains by the wrists, ankles and neck. He must have struggled a lot because the marks of the chains are actually worse than the torture itself.

Arthur: (his heart aching for Merlin and burning in fury for the bastards who did this, composes himself just enough to ask again) His voice... did they...did they cut his-

Gaius: No, sire. He's physically able to talk He's just too traumatized to do it. It might take a while for him to talk again.

Arthur: (sighs releaved, but still fill with sorrow) Why? Why would they do this to him? Merlin never hurt anyone, who would want to- (stops when he sees Gaius apprehensive expression) You know something.

Gaius: (hesitantly) Merlin can't speak but he can still write, sire. He... he managed to write me some things.

Arthur: (raises his voice, angry) And you tell me this now?! What did he write?

Gaius: ...

Arthur: (demands) Gaius, I order you to tell me.

Gaius: (sighs) Apparently the bandits that captured him wanted... information sire. To know all the weak spots of the castle... and everything related to you.

Arthur: (open his eyes wide, horrified and devastated, and sinks in a nearby chair) No...

Gaius: He didn't say a thing, sire. You don't have anything to wo-

Arthur: (explodes) I know he didn't! That idiot! He should have told them everything! I wouldn't have blamed him, but of course he didn't. I whish he had (breaks down and cries) This is all my fault.

Gaius: (comforting him, a hand on Arthur's shoulder) This is no one's fault but theirs. You can't prevent every conspiration, attack or attemp murder directed at you. You're the king. It's expected.

Arthur: I should have protected him better, found him sooner. I should-

Gaius: Dwelling on what if scenarios won't help you. And it definitely won't help Merlin. What he needs now is for you to be there for him, be strong for him

So Arthur does just that. When Merlin keeps locking himself in his room and refuses to leave, Arthur visits him at the door and slide pieces of paper through the door crack so Merlin can write the words he can't speak and they can have a small talk at least once a day. Arthur can hear things being thrown and broken constantly and, the first days, Merlin doesn't even pick up the paper. When Merlin finally does, the paper is returned with a short messages along the lines of "Go away", "Leave me alone" to which Arthur reponds firmly he won't, he never will, every single time. Then Merlin's messages turn longer little by little and Arthur's one sided conversations with the door are over.

The day Merlin finally leaves his room and resumes his duties is a blessing as much as it is a curse. Arthur is glad and greatful at Merlin's progress, but seeing him doing his chores silently, just noding or shaking his head when asked something, and without sharing a single smile is painful. Merlin still doesn't let anyone touch him, which everyone respects, but is specially difficult for Arthur since, he realises, he used to manhandle his manservant a lot. They still comunicate through papers when necessary, but is just not the same.

A particular day Merlin almost falls down the stairs and Arthur, forgetting his manservant boundaries for a second, catches him in reflex.

Merlin: (separates from Arthur in full panic mode, screaming) NO!

Arthur: I'm so sorry, Merlin! I didn't mean-wait (open his eyes wide in surprise) You talked?

Merlin: (unsure, repeats) No? (brings a hand to his mouth in surprise and repeats, fearful) No? (his hand goes to his neck, nervous, as if expecting something bad to happen, but then he smiles brightly and shouts, very excited) No!😃 NO!😄

Arthur: (laughs in excitment, so happy he might cry) Your voice is back! You can talk again! (about to go for a hug)

Merlin: (lifts his hands, warnly) No!😠

Arthur: (lifts his hands too, quickly) Right, sorry. (They both lower their hands at the same time) Ahm... Is 'no' the only word you can say?

Merlin: (shrugs)

Arthur: Come one, try something else.

Merlin: (hesitanly) Ar...thur?

Arthur: See? You can talk.

Merlin: (smiles softly, and says fondly) Arthur. (tries to say something more elaborated, but in the end only manages to say again) Arthur. (Purses his lips, frustrated)

Arthur: (smiles at him fondly) One word at a time, don't force yourself. I can't believe I'm saying this, but it's good to hear your annoying voice again. (thinking) And hearing you saying my name and smiling. How much I missed that smile.

After that, Merlin is able to give short answers. First from 1 to 3 words and later one sentence or two. He's also more expressive now with his features, not as much as he was before, but he makes small frowns and gives small smiles from time to time. Arthur craves those moments. Even if Merlin's face contorts in fury because Arthur tried to exclude him from going on trips with him to protect him, or because Arthur doesn't do things like throwing things at him anymore because he believes Merlin's made of cristal. Arthur can’t help feeling happy because Merlin's face is finally wearing some emotion.

Then comes the day Arthur sees Merlin having a nightmare.

Arthur finds Merlin fallen asleep in his bed. Before Arthur would have get mad, but he knows through Gaius that Merlin hasn’t been sleeping well so he lets him. He starts checking his informs when suddenly he hears Merlin crying for help. Arthur runs to him inmediatly.

Merlin: (begs in his sleep, moving and crying desperatly) No! Anything but that, please.

Arthur: (tries to wake him up without touching him) Merlin, it's just a nightmare. Wake up.

Merlin: (doesn’t wake up and cries more painfully) Please! Hurts too much! Please! Stop!

Arthur: Merlin-

Merlin: Arthur! Arthur, I'm here! Please! Arthur!

Arthur: (shouts) Merlin!

Merlin: (wakes up abruptly and checks desperatly his wrists and neck)

Arthur: (comforting him) You are safe. You are in Camelot. You are safe.

Merlin: (wipes his tears and looks around) I fell asleep in your bed. I'm sorry.

Arthur: (smiles) It’s okay. (Wants to put a comforting hand on his shoulder but restrains himself) You were having a nightmare.

Merlin: I... I don't want to talk about it.

Arthur: Alright. But if you ever want to. Just know that I'm here to listen.

Merlin: (Nods in understanding and sighs) I'll get back to work. (Stands up)

Arthur: (complains, but not really) As you should. Those chores aren’t going to make theirselfs, you know?

Merlin: (smiles a little, cause he knows what Arthur is doing) Right away, sire. (Leaves)

After that, Arthur asks Gaius if he knows what Merlin's dream are about exactly, because it seemed there was a especific type of torture Merlin dreaded the most, but while Gaius seems to know, he refuses to tell him, even when he commands him. "It's not my place to tell" It's all physician says. It bugs Arthur the rest of the day. It's not until Arthur leads a trial of a rape victim that devasting realisation hits him.

That girl, that poor girl acts just like Merlin. Not letting anyone touch her, barely speaking. There are marks on her wrists of ropes the inmobilized her while she was... Just like Merlin's chains. "He must have struggled a lot because the marks of the chains are actually worse than the torture itself" Gaius had said. Merlin's nightmares. Merlin limping when they found him in the wood. Merlin not wanting to ride on a horse.

Arthur's world crushes all over again. His Merlin, his best friend was raped. Arthur can see his knights came to the same conclusion, because of the devasted expression they have when he meets them in private.

Elyan: (still in denial) It can't be... not Merlin.

Leon: It does make sense though. If none other torture seemed to work...

Percival: And Merlin has always had... very delicate features for a man.

Gwaine: Those sick bastards!

Lancelot: (no quiet believing this theory yet because he knows Merlin has magic to defend himself, but he can't share that so he just stays silent) ...

Arthur: (with deadly and serious expression) As soon as we find them, we'll make them pay. For now I want you to keep taking turns in watching over Merlin.

All knights: Yes, sire!

By month 3, Merlin talks almost as frequently as he did before, maybe with less jokes and smiles, but he's getting there. Arthur is glad some of their usual banter is back.

Merlin: (asks, shyly) Arthur? Could you... it's just I want to try something, but... you don't have to if-

Arthur: (throwing whatever he's doing inmediatly) Of course, anything. Just ask.

Merlin: (blushes a little) Could you... give me your hand?

Arthur: (his heart stops with emotion for a moment, but composes himself) Sure (he extends his hand)

Merlin: (slowly but surely joins their palms and smiles. After a moment, he says relieved to himself) Nothing happened.

Arthur: (joyful at feeling Merlin's touch again, but his heart breaking at Merlin's words) Of course nothing happened. I would never hurt you, Merlin.

Merlin: (smiles a little) I know. (Lets go of Arthur’s hand)

Arthur: (missing his touch already) If you need to... you can ask me to help you again, you know? With the whole touching thing.

Merlin: (surprised) Really?

Arthur: (nods) Whenever you want.

Merlin: (smiles a little) Thank you.

And Arthur finds himself craving those moments too. He always waits for Merlin to initiate the touch. Arthur doesn't risk doing it, fearing he could scare Merlin. So he waits. First Merlin just asks to join their hands from time to time. Then, one blessful day, Merlin tell him is okay to touch his arm or his shoulder like Arthur used to do. Arthur does it gently though, enjoying and appreciating it as he never did before. Arthur feels sense of achievement when Merlin stops tensing at his touch completly, at easy with him again.

Gwaine: (while training, sighs) I miss Merlin's hugs.

Lancelot: (sad) Me too. He's making a great progress with touch though. And he smiles more.

Percival: Remember when he asked me if I could carry him in my back?

Elyan: And you said "I could carry you with a single finger!" And then you picked him up (All the knights except for Arthur, laugh)

Arthur: (suddenly very sternly) stop chatting and get back to training.

Gwaine: Relax, princess. We were just talking about all the times Merlin-

Arthur: (raises his voice, mad) I said get back to training!

Leon: (worried) Are you alright, sire?

Arthur: (harshly) I'm fine.

Gwaine: (realising) Wait... you've never hugged Merlin before?

Arthur: ...

Gwaine: (laughing) Oh, gods! That's what it is. You're jealous!

Lancelot: (warns) Gwaine.

Gwaine: What? Is not my fault mister I'm-too-great-to-show-affection didn't get to hug Merlin before.

Leon: (seeing Arthur's increasinly furious face, warns too) Gwaine, stop.

Gwaine: And he doesn't get to be mad at us just because he'll never get to hug him now.

Arthur: (shouts and launches himself at Gwaine and they start fighting)

The rest of the knights: (try to stop them but is useless).

Arthur: (about to throw the finale punch)

Merlin: (enters the training ground and aproaches, confused) Arthur? Gwaine? What's happening?

Arthur: (gets distracted at Merlin's appearance)

Gwaine: (takes advantage and makes Arthur trip)

Arthur: (Ends with his face in a puddle of mud)

Gwaine:... 😨

Elyan:... 😧

Lancelot:...😓

Percival: ...😰

Leon: ...🤦‍♂️

Merlin: (burst out laughing) OMG! Your face! I can't! 🤣😂

All the knights, specially Arthur: (stunned but mostly mesmerised cause Merlin hasn’t laugh, properly laugh since they found him in the woods and they have missed his beautiful laugh so damn much)

Merlin: (wipes his tears of hapiness) Sorry. I'm done now.

Arthur: (Thinking, almost in panic) No, you aren't! (Turns to Gwaine and orders) Gwaine, give me your face.

Gwaine: What-

Arthur: (smashes mud in his face)

Merlin: (starts laughing again, but not as hard as before)

Lancelot: (understanding what Arthur is doing, thinks) Is not enough. (Makes a ball of mud and throws it at Elyan's face)

Elyan: Hey! 😠

Lancelot: (pointing at Merlin) Look!

Merlin: (is laughing harder)

Percival: (shouts) Mud fight! (And everyone starts throwing mud at each other)

Merlin: (still laughing) What are you doing, you idiots! Now I'll have to wash all your armors!

Arthur: Don't be dull, Merlin! Join us!

Merlin: (giggles) You're worst than children, I swear. (shakes his head but joins the fight)

Arthur's finally got his Merlin back and he'll never lose him again.

[what-is-denial-if-not-fanfiction]

Queen of Hearts

Friends don’t look at friends that way. Guinevere knew this when she married Arthur. Friends don’t look at one another as if the other’s eyes held all the world’s answers in them – thirsty. As if in a second more of unrelenting gazes, they could drink up all of the other to leave nothing but their own flesh behind.

But Guinevere took all of it in stride. She knew from the start. How could she not? How could anyone not? She ought to be angry. She ought to feel humiliated by such open affection hidden behind sharp barbs and retorts – she was Queen. And it was awfully unfair how noblewomen could hold such honor while sitting idly and not be tested to prove their worth.

Every day, part of her feels as if she has failed Camelot, the council, Arthur. Sure, her King assures her the opposite but in such matters, she believes she holds the authority. In her time as Arthur’s chosen, she has been enchanted not once but twice. She has endangered her people. Endangered Merlin, for heaven’s sake! Councilors tolerate her. But she knows the moment her back is turned they all but call her worthless for her blood.

It has been three years since they’ve wed. In those years, she has barely gotten Arthur to look at her with that primal sort of hunger, of longing outside their first months. Yet Merlin does it so effortlessly, that she questions how is she never able to get Arthur to look at her like that? What would it take for Arthur to bare his soul to her the way he does with Merlin? When will Arthur stop with his façade of strength when with her?

How long will she have to prove herself as Queen?

She ought to be angry. To yell at Arthur for once to look at her. To see her. And yet, how could she begrudge Arthur? When Arthur himself knows not who he truly loves? Nor who he sees when he whispers ‘I love you’ in her ears? How could she begrudge Merlin? When she knew exactly what it is like to love Arthur?

It is hard to have a servant fill in the shoes of a queen. But she knows she can fit them well. They were meant for her. And even if the councilors tolerate her, her people love her. And she loves them.

So, even if her husband knows not who he truly loves; Even if her husband’s servant looks at him like that, she takes it in stride. She looks in the mirror and practices the impassive looks she has long gotten used to seeing in noble women. She practices their walk, their talk. Their grace. And slowly, unknowingly… the servant girl is forgotten. The smiles once sweet and carefree, now jaded and controlled. And a mind that once dreamt of princes and knights, now dreams of treaties, magic, and war.

Friends don’t look at friends that way. She loved Lancelot once, daresay more than Arthur. She knows intimately the high that love brings. If she cannot be truly content in her marriage, she can take comfort in the love of the people. She is the Queen. And that is enough.

[rotationalsymmetry]

Gonna write a bit of ATLA meta about Uncle Iroh.

Since I saw a post that rubbed me the wrong way, but in the opposite of the way posts about Iroh usually rub me the wrong way, so I'll need a bit of a lead up to explain why both approaches are wrong. Spoilers ahead.

When people look back on a story, they tend to compress it in their minds, as though everything happened all at once. People have a static image of Camelot that includes both Merlin and Lancelot, even though they were never both at Camelot at the same time.

And I think when people look back at Avatar: The Last Airbender, they look at it knowing that Zuko joins the Gaang in the end, and knowing that, they forget how Zuko looks and what Zuko does at the start of the story. Because Zuko is a pretty unambiguous classic cartoon villain at the start of the story.

He's substantially more powerful than the protagonists (look at how easily he bats Sokka out of the way.) His goals are in direct opposition to the protagonists' goals, and if he is successful it will be disastrous to both them and the world. And like most cartoon villains, he's personally a dick: he's constantly angry/impatient, he lashes out, his introduction isn't quite like Azula's where she tells the ship's captain that she expects him to be more afraid of her than the tides, but he does treat the lives of his crew as disposable in an early episode, when there's a storm. (He gets better at the end of the episode, call that foreshadowing.) He's even got a scar on his face, in the long tradition of physically disfigured villains.

And once you've watched the whole show once, sure, it's hard to see him that way. And you can point to some signs that he was going to come around -- he didn't kill anyone (that we know of), when Aang let himself be captured in exchange for Zuko leaving the village alone, he did leave it alone, rather than backing out on his promise once he could. But so what? Plenty of unrepentant villains have a sense of honor and will keep their word, makes for interesting stories.

The point I'm trying to make is: there is only so much one show can do, only so much story they can get in to one story. And in that finite amount of story, they spent a TON of time showing the audience that no matter how much of a villain someone looks to be at first, that villain is still a person.

And they also spend a lot of time showing other people are people. Random Earth Kingdom civilians like Haru. Random Earth Kingdom guerilla fighters like Jet. When we get to the Northern Water Tribe, we find a bunch of people who are just people: old men who are set in their misogynistic ways but maybe can be coaxed into changing, young men who are kind of jerks (but who still don't deserve to die at the hands of an invasive force), young women torn between their own desires and their sense of duty, people people people. And when we get flashbacks to the Air Nomads, they're people: some more serious, some more fun and flighty, just people. And when we get to the Fire Nation, they're just people.

So let's look at the rest of the Fire Nation royal family. Azula's a sympathetic villain: she's scary, she's dangerous, she does appalling things, we see her suffering and the show gives us enough information about her and her family's dynamics, the way their father played them off against each other, to see why she did what she did. Azula ends the story in a situation similar to the one where Zuko is at the start: Zuko starts having lost everything and nearly everyone who ever mattered to him; Azula ends having lost everything and everyone. And we don't see that with Ozai, all we get of a potentially softer side of Ozai is a picture of him as a small child, but it's a short story and there's only so much time and it's not really about Ozai, and surely we can infer that there is something like Azula's story in his, something going on where to him his actions made sense.

Something going on where if you had Ozai's life, his background, his circumstances, his worldview, maybe you would act the same.

What I mean is, Zuko did not become a person because he stopped being a villain. His personhood was there when he was a villain, and was still there when he joined the heroes. And Azula's personhood and her villainhood can coexist. And Ozai's villainhood and personhood, with a little extrapolation, can coexist.

And Iroh. The Dragon of the West, the general of the great siege of Ba Sing Se. He's one person. He doesn't need to be split, either you ignore the harm he did or you decide that the harm he did means he must suffer for it, must be punished for it. He can be a person, and a person who did harm, and a person who did harm for reasons that made sense to him at the time, this is all one thing, it is all there in the story, not all of it is there for Iroh because it is not Iroh's story, but if you look at Zuko's story and Azula's and Chit Sang (guy at the boiling rock they tried to escape with) and Jet and Jeong Jeong and Hama and Yon Rha and Hei Bai, and how things went down with Aang in the Avatar Day episode (ie the town that wanted to punish him for a very old murder that the Avatar did, and they were in the wrong for that even though the Avatar did kill the person they said the Avatar killed) and what happened in The Great Divide (ie that ultimately it didn't matter who was at fault) it's all there in other parts of the story, you can extrapolate.

Iroh doesn't need to be punished, not by anyone else and not by himself in the form of feeling agonized over the harm he caused (much as I love angst in fiction.) Nobody needs to be punished; suffering is bad, causing more suffering does not make other people's suffering less. And he doesn't need to be innocent and pure to not deserve punishment. He's not innocent. He did a lot of harm. We can infer that he caused that harm for reasons that made sense to him at the time, whether they make sense to him in retrospect or not and whether he actually did have better options under the circumstances, which he may well not have. We're all people. We're all people. We're all people.

Like it or not, agree with it or not, ATLA is about forgiveness, about not seeking revenge, about not increasing the amount of suffering in the world by taking an eye for an eye. The story did not punish Zuko for having started on the wrong side, even though he started out as a stereotypical cartoon villain and he would have caused unspeakable devastation to the world if he'd succeeded at his initial goal. And it would not punish Iroh for what he did. And anyone looking for either a way to completely exonerate Iroh -- pretend he has never done anything harmful in his life -- or to criticize the show for not having him punished for his wrongdoing, has completely missed the central theme of the show.

Which is not separate from any imperialism/colonialism is bad messaging you want to draw from it. The show is not claiming colonialism is bad because it sides specifically with the Water Tribe or with everyone-but-the-Fire-Nation. It's against colonialism because...colonialism is bad...for people. Who have inherent value, whose lives have inherent value, whose lives do not stop having inherent value when they harm other people. It's one message.

[angelsarrm]

Sorry but I’ve been having soooooo many thoughts about Merlin au I’m just going to throw them all in here. Details like Patrick’s magic being tied to music. There are so many mediums for magic (spells, potions, runes, etc) and Patrick’s is singing. He starts drumming when he’s younger, just generally with his hands and later with actual sticks, because it’s a version of music that doesn’t do magic outside of his control, so drumming is freeing bc he can just make music without risking getting caught. And everything has a different sound when you drum it, so it’s like hearing the heartbeat of the world and echoing it back like that’s how Patrick comes to learn magic at first. He goes to Camelot to learn to control the rest bc there has to be a use for it and he wants to be able to make music but it’s dangerous. Pete at some point hears him singing and later when they’re in the prince/manservant roles he’s constantly trying to get Patrick to sing for him, teasing him about being a bard, about how he won’t let anyone else sing about his heroic deeds it has to be Patrick so Patrick’s trying to avoid doing that or at least channel it into magic that won’t be noticed. And I keep thinking about the poisoned chalice story. Pete being in a rough place mentally, but having to act fine for a delegation coming from another kingdom for a peace treaty. But then there’s this chaos about poison and Patrick’s in the middle of it and they’re about to try and make him drink it so Pete grabs it and drinks it before they can. Patrick and Andy trying to find the antidote. Andy as a knight who likes being able to help people but hates the rules around knighthood and being at the mercy of orders from the king, and uses his position to try and help undermine things that are unfair, help people with magic escape etc. Joe as Lancelot, Andy helps him fake his seal of nobility so he can join. Pete finding out about Patrick’s magic way earlier in the story than in the actual show, but being against the kings stance on magic and so then the four of them are working to change things together. Sorry, I’ve lost my entire mind. Love your art!

OH NY GODDDD I LOVE THIS DUMP SO MUCH THANK YOU????? and yes i see them all going pn adventures together and at first andy finds out about his magic, but is in support of patrick and promises not to tell, joe being the next to find out because patrick saved him in a fight (cough Gryffindor).

for the big merthur reveal i imagine it goes the same, pete is wounded but not fatally and is mad about patrick keeping secrets from him. patrick DOES get him to the lake in time and . conclusion except theyre all happy yayyy

alternatively canon merlin ending of arthur dying: pete isnt scared of patrick's magic and wants to see it willingly before kicking the bucket and so patrick sings to him as a last moment of their prince/manservant. patrick must live for ages until the moment the king returns (IMMORTALITY)🤕🤕🤕🤕

the guys are all reincarnated in pop punk's greatest time of need... thus the creation of fall out boy . patrick hides his true age. they don't need to know the full story of him not being reincarnated and is actually the original patrick. GOD

[fluffypotatey]

You know what I wish we'd seen?

More positive actively involved magic users.

Like, we know the Druids support Emrys, though they seem more like a pacifist, non-combatant party (aside from some outliers like Kara, Mordred, Alvarr), and other magic users/beings like Anhora, Grettir, Mab, they all seem to be neutral. They acknowledge Emrys as a superior power, but they don't seem to actively participate for better or worse. And all other sorcerers are usually antagonistic. But why can't we have the other side? I'm sure there has to be some who decide to take Merlin's side. Maybe they don't entirely trust Arthur, maybe they aren't too certain of a Pendragon, but dude, it's fucking Emrys. If Emrys is supporting him, there's gotta be something to him, right?

Let Merlin have people helping him, other sorcerers who slip him spells that are too powerful for them, maybe he can do something with it, passing him information about plots they've heard through the sorcerers' grapevine, even helping him thwart some of the ambushes and traps. Maybe they aren't brave enough to live in Camelot 24/7 like Merlin, but they take turns bringing him messages and supplies, and to get their "marching orders," such as they are.

Also, imagine the look on Arthur's face when he finds out he has a magic Praetorian Guard that answers to his manservant.

yeah see, that's one of the big issues that's always bothered me. like we (the audience) are told that magic is not evil but rather is something as integral as nature. but more often than not, a lot of the antagonist we meet are magic users and most of the time they are power hungry people. i mean, i totally understand the sorcerers who seek out revenge for Uther and by proxy Camelot, but we only either get these types of sorcerers or the sorcerers whom the show portrays as only evil.

it is, frankly, impossible for the magic community to be full of only evil and vengeful sorcerers. there's got to be more diversity than that, bbc 🙄 you're telling me that there are no somewhat powerful magic users living in Albion helping others anyway they can and don't seek to help aid Merlin in anyway. and i mean aid him since s1. by s5 it looked like he was actually getting some help, but they were still sorcerers who fell a little bit in the gray area or just never interacted with anyone other than Merlin.

maybe have Lancelot befriend another sorcerer while he was away from Camelot and sort of sneak him in to help save the kingdom from Morgana and Morgause in s3. maybe Elyan, who had left Camelot pre-s1, have some magic friends that we meet in s4.

tbh, my big issue is that with how much the show tells us, the audience, that magic does have positive impacts and isn't evil, none of the characters besides Gaius, Merlin, and Lancelot actually know that (as far as i'm aware). literally any time Arthur considers that maybe magic isn't what his father claimed it to be, he ends up going back to those prejudices and ideas Uther propagated because "magic killed my father," "magic killed my mother" (still super salty), "magic corrupted morgana," "magic wants me dead." when in reality, that's far from the truth, and Merlin then has to continue to hide a part of himself from people he cares for and loves dearly because all they've ever known and seen is "evil magic people."

just....bbc, explain to me how Arthur was supposed to bring the so-called "Golden Age" to Albion where there's peace between magic users and non-magic users alike if he, himself, believed magic was inherently evil???? how is Arthur the Once and Future King if he never repealed the ban on magic or began working with sorcerers? and i'm saying this as someone who loves the character, but why did we, the audience, not get a chance to really see Arthur break away from his father's prejudices on magic until the series finale?

it just bugs me. there are so many moments where it looks like maybe Merlin has an ally that's pro-magic and pro-unity and wants to help fulfill the prophecy, but then they either become one-time side characters or fucking die. never seen or heard from again. maybe i just want a character or two to stick and maybe give Merlin the support group he needs?

por favor, bbc

[dialux]

I’ve spent the past couple weeks enmeshed in Merlin ALLLLLLLL over again, but rather than simply reading fic/looking at art, I went back to source material and watched half the tv show which was a) an excellent decision, everyone’s fucking gorg, b) an excellent decision, the show’s actually so good, c) a HORRIBLE decision, because now I have opinions on what the show should have been.

So! Without further ado: Enjoy Dia’s Merlin Plotline (For Five Seasons).

Season One: Pretty much the same as canon. Merlin learns about Nimueh, who is the primary antagonist, and we get to know all the characters we know and love. The season ends with Merlin returning from defeating Nimueh, entirely certain that he cannot/must not ever reveal his magic to anyone in Camelot.

Season Two: ALSO pretty much the same. But this time, when Merlin and Arthur go to the crystal cave, Arthur learns about Merlin’s magic- and Morgana’s. Shaken and distrusting, Arthur returns to Camelot to confront his father, but before he can, Morgause attacks. Arthur goes with Merlin to Kilgarrah’s cave and offers to ease his sentence if he tells them how to defeat the undead. Kilgarrah refuses, furious that Merlin dared to bring a Pendragon to him, but tells them that the only way for Arthur to survive is to kill his own kin. Arthur goes to Gaius to ask for help, where Gaius tells him that Morgana is his sister. Arthur refuses to kill her and Merlin defends him, but Gaius drugs them both and then poisons Morgana. In the aftermath, Morgause and her army disappear with Morgana, Uther is severely weakened by Morgana’s departure and starts passing many of his duties onto Arthur’s shoulders, and Arthur tells Gaius that his position is forfeit in the royal household. Because Merlin supported Arthur’s decision not to kill Morgana- and was drugged himself by Gaius- they build a tentative accord between each other, and he remains as Arthur’s manservant.

Season Three: Arthur and Merlin have reached a shaky balance with respect to Merlin’s magic, though there are still hiccups. They keep searching for Morgana, though without much hope; Gaius is training a few apprentices to be his successors. Arthur is, functionally, regent, and courting Gwen. The first half of the season is Arthur and Merlin settling into their new roles, with Arthur learning more about magic and Merlin supporting Arthur in his expanded duties. About halfway through the season, Morgana returns to Camelot, and her miraculous survival seems to rejuvenate Uther, who takes back many of his responsibilities. Arthur and Merlin still believe Morgana can be redeemed, but their methods of doing so are not immediately effective. Arthur clashes repeatedly with his father, unwilling to be as passive as in the past. This culminates in Arthur deciding his father’s imprisonment of Kilgarrah is unjust, and trying to identify the last surviving dragonlord to keep Camelot safe even after Kilgarrah is freed; Merlin later tells him that it’s his father, and they set out to find him. When they return from their quest, they learn that Morgause has attacked again, aided surreptitiously by Morgana, and the only way to beat back this army of the dead is through dragonfire. Merlin releases Kilgarrah and Morgause is defeated. But Kilgarrah then turns on Camelot and brings down half the castle, trying to reach Uther; Merlin, in full view of the court, commands him to stop. Uther demands Merlin be burned alive for sorcery. Arthur refuses, citing Merlin’s choice to protect Camelot rather than let the dragon destroy it, but Uther refuses to heed him. Arthur, Merlin, and Gwen flee from Camelot that very night.

Season Four: On their way out of Camelot, Arthur, Merlin, and Gwen are chased down by a furious Morgana, who insists on joining them. The four of them spend the season living, alternately, as vagabonds, mercenaries, and hedge knights; they meet up with Lancelot, Gwaine, Elyan, Percival, etc. The season is full of Merlin learning magic (hatching dragons!) through a variety of sources, wandering Albion, and understanding all that has been lost since Uther’s Purge. Arthur and Morgana learn the difficulties of being a commoner and Arthur gains a new understanding of Gwen; Gwen, however, starts to have second thoughts about her relationship with Arthur now that Lancelot is back in the picture. Arthur’s uncle Agravaine comes to join their party, but Merlin and Morgana immediately suspect him as working on Uther’s behalf. This culminates in Agravaine finally revealing that Morgause is not dead but has partnered with King Odin and promised him Camelot; they have been slowly poisoning Uther since Arthur left to weaken Camelot’s defenses. Arthur and his band of knights- and the army Merlin, Morgana, and Gwen have spent the season gathering- return to Camelot to save Uther. But they are too late. Arthur returns to Uther freshly buried, a kingdom in disarray, and his own people distrusting the army he brings home. To bring them all together, Merlin tells the people to go to Lake Avalon, where he asks Freya to part the waters; a sword is revealed to be embedded within the stone. Arthur pulls Excalibur out of the stone, gains his confidence and inspires his people, and kills Morgause.

Season Five [First Half]: Having defeated Odin, Arthur has established Camelot as a place for magic to thrive and shine. Merlin hears of magic-users in Essetir being taken as slaves by the king, and insists that they must try to stop it. Merlin and Gwaine go to Lot’s kingdom in disguise and accidentally perform a coup; Merlin rules in Arthur’s name before Arthur comes to claim the lands as his own. In Essetir, he meets Mordred, who was captured by slavers after fleeing Camelot. Though uneasy, Merlin takes him under his wing and trains him, both in magic and, through Gwaine, in combat. Meanwhile, Caerleon, fearing Camelot’s growing military might, attempts to attack Arthur, but is repelled; Morgana then names him as High King on the battlefield, and all four kingdoms kneel to him. The tensions between Lancelot, Gwen’s, and Arthur grow daily, but the growing needs of Camelot mean they can none of them address them properly until Lancelot decides to go and help rule Essetir instead of standing in Gwen’s and Arthur’s way. Arthur and Gwen decide they should get married, and she is crowned as High Queen over Albion. Morgana is officially named Arthur’s heir.

Season Five [Second Half]: In the second half of the season, there’s a time jump. Mordred is a knight and a sorcerer, and all of Albion is at peace. Merlin is now the established court sorcerer and physician; Arthur’s knights are all acting as regents in various fiefdoms across Albion. Magic is a force for good and evil; Merlin has built schools for learning and pockets of entirely magical villages have cropped up. But Morgana’s dreams are uneasy, and when she tells Merlin, the two of them go to the crystal cave to get some more clarity. On the way back, they stop in Essetir, just in time to save Lancelot from an assassination attempt, though Merlin has to put him in a coma. Against Arthur’s advice, Gwen goes to Gaius and learns of a magical object called the Holy Grail, which could relieve all wounds and turn a life immortal. As High Queen, Gwen then issues a challenge to all of Albion for the Holy Grail, promising riches beyond all imagining. Arthur and his knights, called to by honor, go on the quest. Merlin returns from Essetir with Lancelot’s body and tells Gwen the Holy Grail is nothing other than the Old Religion’s Cup of Life, but it has been destroyed by the Druids when they learned of Morgause’s intent to steal it. Mordred then tells them that the Druids didn’t destroy it, but hid it instead, in a place with many magical trials; Merlin, and Mordred head out to overcome them. On the way there, they meet Arthur and his knights, and they join forces. Mordred is compelled by a vision on the way there and stabs Arthur with Excalibur; Merlin manages to grab the cup and come back, but Arthur refuses to take the water, instead insisting Merlin give the water to Lancelot. Merlin takes Arthur’s body to Avalon, where Freya, Morgause, and Ygraine are there to receive him. They bury him with honor and send Merlin off with the knowledge that Arthur will rise again. Merlin returns to Camelot with the Cup of Life and revives Lancelot. Gwen has exiled herself to a monastery to repent for her mistakes, but Lancelot tells Merlin that he will go after her, though the choice will be hers in the end. Morgana is crowned queen. Merlin serves as her advisor, but at the end of her reign, he retires to Avalon, where Arthur lies still, and places the entire lake under an enchantment, set to be broken only in the time of Albion’s greatest need.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Grief in all its Strangeness

Heyyyy so today has not been a great day. I was wondering if you could write something for Merlin or maybe the Avengers about that feeling when someone has died (by suicide, but you can ignore that if you'd like (you can ignore this whole ask if you'd like)) and you didn't actually know them, or even interact with them ever but you crossed paths occasionally and now they're gone and it just feels wrong. And somehow you also feel guilty? Idk. Your stories are always a comfort for me :) – anon

Read on Ao3

Warnings: suicide, one of the knights (not a main character) commits suicide offscreen, it is not shown/recounted but the fic revolves around the grief after the incident

Pairings: gen

Word Count: 2146

One of the knights is dead.

Merlin didn't know it at first; that would explain why he'd barged into Arthur's chambers and been surprised that the Prince was already out of bed—granted, not dressed and out of bed, but out of bed nonetheless—and why Arthur had been even snappier with him than normal. And it wasn't one of those 'fun' snappy moods either, the ones where Arthur's getting a bit overwhelmed with the pressures of being a prince and all that came with it, and he needed to mess around or he'd go insane—Morgana's words, not Merlin's. No, this was one of the moods where Merlin figured out he needed to put his head down and get out before it escalated to one of them saying something they really didn't mean.

He finds out from Lancelot what's happened.

"One of the newest knights was found yesterday," Lancelot says, taking Merlin off to a side corridor where no one ventures often, his hands hidden beneath the swaths of red fabric and his voice too low to tremble, "I imagine the Prince is taking it harder than most."

"Why would Arthur be taking it harder?"

"This knight was one of the youngest Camelot ever trained. And he was found with…" Lancelot's breath stutters and he quickly coughs. "It's quite obvious what he died from. Why he died."

Oh.

Oh.

"Oh, no," Merlin mumbles as Lancelot nods solemnly, "I'm—I'm so sorry."

"Thank you," for how could Lancelot not be grieving too? "I—hh. It was a surprise, to be sure. It seemed like he was…well, like he was fine. I suppose we never really know for sure, do we?"

Merlin nods. His head spins with the idea of one of Camelot's knights, his body found by his brothers-in-arms, and then not even able to find the thing that killed him because, well…

"I don't mean to muddy your day with—"

"You're not muddying anything," Merlin interrupts quickly, "I asked, you told me. Thank you. And, um, I'm sorry for your loss too."

Lancelot smiles ruefully, nodding once more and clapping his hand against Merlin's shoulder. As he turns to walk away, Merlin's hand shoots out and grabs his wrist. He stops, turning back, and Merlin swallows.

"You've got me," he says in a rush, "you—you know you've always got me, right?"

Lancelot's brow furrows for a moment, before realization dawns and his mouth opens a few times, trying to form words. Merlin just stares at him, waiting, until another smile forms on his face, sweeter than the last.

"I do," he says, stepping back into Merlin's space and taking Merlin's arm too, "of course, I do."

"Right."

"Right."

"Is this—do knights hug, or—?"

And he actually gets Lancelot to chuckle as he opens his arms, letting Merlin give him a hug and whispering another thank you into the space between them before he pulls away. He watches Lancelot walk away, red cloak billowing out behind him, and looks down at his own ruddy hands to see the calluses and blisters that have started to show a similar color.

That does explain why Arthur was in a mood, and despite himself, Merlin feels a pang of sympathy for him. It was one thing to be a knight right now, he supposes, to have lost one of your brothers, but quite another to be the Prince: responsible for his training, for him, and still for the rest, and not able to talk to anyone. For who could Arthur talk to who would listen? The other knights—well, if they could get over the power imbalance between knight and prince, that would be miracle enough. Then there might be those who blame Arthur for the knight's death, or who could be placed in an equally volatile situation. And none of the other nobles would have the same emotional weight that Arthur would, he was the only one who was a knight, who trained and lived and breathed with them.

And the King…

The day Uther Pendragon cares about something, not as an extension of himself, but for it and it alone, Merlin will walk into the lake and never emerge again.

So: who does Arthur have? Well, he has Merlin.

Not that Arthur would ever really admit it, not in front of anyone in any way that matters, but he does have Merlin. And so, Merlin will be there for him, in any way he can.

He orders Arthur's favorite foods from the kitchens for dinner. It's a massive platter—but then again all of Arthur's meals tend to be—and he staggers into the wall a fair few times going up the stairs, but he gets it on the table before Arthur can look up from his desk. He turns his back and picks up another chore before Arthur can see what he's done, scrubbing at a determined spot on Arthur's gauntlet.

He keeps his ears pricked for the pause in the scritch-scratch of Arthur's quill, waiting until he can peek over his shoulder at the scrape of Arthur's chair.

"Merlin."

"Mm?"

"These are…" Arthur clears his throat. "Thank you."

Merlin hides a smile. "You're welcome. Figured you'd be hungry."

"You saying I'm fat?"

"I'm saying that it must take a lot of energy to do all that work without taking a break."

A soft huff but it's a laugh—he made Arthur laugh, just a little. He looks over his shoulder again and sees the remnants of a smile on Arthur's face as he tucks into his dinner, and he allows his own to bloom again as he goes back to scrubbing at the metal. Arthur's chambers fade back into the quiet sounds of their coexisting as Merlin's hands go bright with exertion, until everything gets suspiciously quiet and he turns just in time to catch a roll of bread flying at his face.

"Oi!"

"Thought you looked a bit peckish," Arthur grins, getting up and going back to his desk, and Merlin gnaws off a bite and sweeps the crumbs onto an empty plate.

This…this he can do.

He doesn't order Arthur's favorite every time, but he makes sure he orders the things that he likes. He does his worst chores when Arthur isn't in the room, or at least keeps the obnoxious ones to a minimum and makes deals with the other servants to have them taken care of while they're out during the day. He plays the fool, the jester, the easy target when he needs to, and if he can send Arthur off to bed with a smile more nights than not, he counts that as a win.

It's not…easy to check in on the knights as well, but it's easier than it should be. Arthur trains the knights, after all, and Merlin would be lying if he said he hadn't noticed the way he's being a little softer, a little kinder with them in the wake of the death that's occurred. A few of the senior knights lend themselves to their brothers as well—he sees Lancelot comforting two squires who have tears in their eyes, he sees one of the sword-master's regular demonstration partners speaking softly to a young knight whose hands won't stop trembling, he sees Leon holding who he later learns was the knight's beloved, letting him cry into his shoulder without saying a word.

He happens upon the three of them in the armory later that evening and wordlessly returns with a tankard of the finest wine he can lay his hands on, three goblets, and a small plate of pastries. He doesn't speak to the third knight, but both Leon and Lancelot find him the next day and pass on their thanks. After that, well, it becomes a habit to walk past the armory to see if there's anyone else waiting there.

He's thinking about how many plates of cinnamon pastries he'll have to ask the baker for when Gaius yells in shock and he looks down to see he's burned his hand.

Gaius frets and scolds him for not paying more attention as he carefully wraps up his hand, but Merlin can't stop looking at the red, red, red skin beneath the sickly pale bandages. He doesn't pick at it, but he tugs them down just enough so he can see the bright color again. Arthur gives him a curious look when he sees the wrappings and he mumbles some excuse about being clumsy that Arthur laughs at. He finds himself looking at it throughout the day, the bright red skin.

It is a strange thing to be surrounded by grief.

Merlin didn't know this knight. He didn't know their name—well, he knew their name now, his name was Larkin—he didn't know what he liked to do in his spare time, he didn't know his favorite food, he didn't know what Larkin wanted out of life. And yet as he watches the knights grieve, watches Arthur grieve, his chest fills with a selfish desire to know, so that he might grieve too.

The first time that thought crosses his mind, he balks at it. Who is he to wish for grief? Who is he to want to steal the pain of others and hoist it onto his own shoulders? Is it not enough that he is here for the ones he does know, the ones he does care about, while they grieve in their own ways?

The burn blisters.

He thinks of Larkin, cold in the middle of the night. He thinks of his body on a smoldering pyre. He thinks of the acrid smoke in his throat and eyes. He thinks of Freya at the bottom of an endless ocean.

He thinks of his own shaking hands, red and blistered, and spends a thoughtless night awake and alone in the dark, staring unseeing at his own grief.

Distantly, he realizes that this is selfish too, in its own way. If he should mourn, should he not mourn this loss? Why is he mourning a loss that could only be his own, when he could make his suffering communal? But he could no more wish his own grief away than he could unburn his hand, which aches and itches under the bandages as it glows red and warm. He thinks of the strange numbness in his gut when he sees the knights grieve, and of the burning guilt in his chest that no one else shares his.

He lets Gaius change his bandages and goes up to Arthur's chambers.

When he opens the door, Leon and Lancelot up from their seats at the table and he instantly turns, going to fetch the mead, the ale, the wine, but Arthur's voice stops him.

"Merlin, come sit."

Merlin sits. Leon looks at him for a moment, then down to his hand, and holds out his own. After a moment, Merlin lets him have it, the other clenching in his lap at the twinges as Leon examines the burn.

"Nasty thing," he says quietly, "how did it happen?"

"Wasn't paying attention. Got distracted."

Leon hums, looking back up, but he doesn't let go of his hand. Merlin's brow furrows, mouth opening to ask what's happening, when there comes a knock at the door. On instinct, he rises to answer, but Leon's hold keeps him seated as Lancelot goes instead. He returns with a platter of baked apples, still slightly bubbling, and Merlin's eyes widen. Over the last of the steam, he sees Arthur smile just a little, coming to sit across from him. He feels Lancelot's hand settle in the crook of his shoulder, still slightly warm from handling the platter.

"We're here for you too," he says softly, and Merlin's eyes fill with unshed tears.

Arthur's chair scrapes across the floor. His boots thud as he rounds the table and strong hands pull Merlin up from the chair and into a solid chest. The wind leaves him at the sudden rush of solidwarmArthur around him and the gasp jars the tears from his eyes. The last thing he smells before his nose closes is the slightly toasted spice of the apples and the faint trace of polish from Arthur's armor. Arthur's chin hooks over his shoulder.

"Go on," he murmurs, "it's okay."

Grief is still strange to Merlin. Comfort doesn't have to be.

[shootwithintenttokill]

One thing BBC's Merlin should have done (and not the one you're thinking of)

Because somehow I am making a Merlin post in 2023

I love magic reveal fics and Lancelot lives fics and so on as much as the next person, but there is one idea that the more I think about it, the more sense it makes to do to the extent when I first watched Merlin, I genuinely was surprised when this didn’t happen:

Gaius dies.

(Explanation after the break)

Not exactly sounding like a fix-it, I know. And, though it might sound like it, this is not post about hating Gaius, and I will explain my reasons. But I’ll start with a little explanation on how it might go down.

I think the main reason this never happened in the show was because Gaius was someone Merlin could talk to regularly and easily about his magic within Camelot. It allowed the audience to understand what he was doing, and why, for the more magical aspects of the show, without having to run out to the forest every five minutes for chats with the dragon. So it would probably have to be combined with either Lancelot lives or Gwaine finds out or something, so that Merlin still has someone to discuss magic with and cover for him. I would imagine it would happen in The Secret Sharer episode (season 4), probably Agravaine kills Gaius before Gwaine can stop him. This gives time for Merlin to process both his mentor’s death and what it means for his role in Camelot, before the season finale.

So, why?

It makes Merlin the authority, rather than the student. Merlin has been studying magic for 6 or 7 years, by season 4. By anyone’s standard, he would probably know what he is talking about by that point. And it’s been shown in several episodes that he doesn’t need Gaius - such as the Goblin in S3, or figuring out how to trick the troll in S2. It wouldn’t be uncharacteristic for him to be able to explain something magical to a knight, or even Arthur. And in a show called Merlin, where Merlin is coming into his power and knowledge, it almost seems illogical to have him going to Gaius for absolutely everything, but he does, when he has Gaius to rely on.

It gives Merlin a reason to be openly respected. Despite the ‘I’m happy to be your servant until the day I die’ thing, Merlin should have got more esteem in the last seasons. Gaius gets a seat on the (big) round table in S5, for his knowledge on magical creatures and threats. If he’s dead, is Arthur just going to give up that seat and not have any questions about magic? No, he’s going to give it to Gaius’ apprentice and the person who has been helping him with research for years. This gives a reason for Merlin to become a more official advisor, have his thoughts listened to without being in the privacy of Arthur’s chambers. Basically, Merlin could have become the advisor to Arthur that Gaius was to Uther if Gaius was dead, but while Gaius is alive neither Arthur nor Merlin would have a reason to make that happen.

Gaius holds Arthur and Merlin back. Gaius is the sorcerer who turned his back on sorcerers, who protected a murderous king while watching thousands of innocents be murdered in the hopes of saving a few. He is a product of Uther’s rule, and is scared enough by what he’s seen that he continually advises against telling Arthur not just about Merlin’s magic, but a huge number of other magical events, and quite simply doesn’t give Arthur a chance to choose to be better. And as for Merlin, he continually advises him caution and restraint, even when it goes wrong (like with Morgana). If you take a comparison between Lancelot and Gaius, where Lancelot continually encourages him, going so far as to suggest he tells Arthur, Gaius continually cautions him not to. Neither of them care any less about Merlin, or want to see magic free less, it’s simply their character. Gaius is scared, looking back at Uther and the deaths that were, and too afraid Arthur is like his father to tell him that magic can be good. But Lancelot is hopeful, and sees Arthur as the man who gave him a knighthood when his father wouldn’t and looks forward to the future that could be. With Gaius gone, and someone like Lancelot or Gwaine advising Merlin as a friend, rather than a father-figure, there is so much more potential for the ‘golden age’ to actually happen in the show.

It fits with the themes of S4. One of the big themes to me in S4 is that Camelot truly becomes a kingdom of the younger generation. Compare Uther’s council in S1-3, to the Round Table in S5. The average age is significantly younger - Arthur goes from being the outlier as the young Prince in a room of old lords, to Gaius looking out of place as an old man in a room of young knights and Gwen. And it’s not just Camelot’s council. The primary villains progressively get younger too - from Nimueh and Morgause, who remember and object to the purge, to Morgana, whose hatred is more focused on her growing up in fear. Gaius is the only person with any significant role in season 5 who is of the older generation, and he does just genuinely seem out of place - someone who is very much Uther’s advisor in a kingdom otherwise completely run by Arthur.

To me, this just makes so much sense. The simple reason is that Merlin genuinely couldn’t have grown to be the advisor he should have been in season 5, or created the golden age the show promised us, because he couldn’t stop relying on Gaius while he was alive, and Gaius couldn’t step away and let Merlin take charge, but was also too scared by the deaths he’d seen to give Arthur the chance, choice, and information he needed to build the world he should have.

In summary, Gaius should have died and it could have dramatically improved the final season of the show.

Also, if you know any good fics for this I’d love to know. Scorch marks and embers by southfarthing on AO3 works on this premise, except Morgana finds out who Emrys is and basically taunts him for 90,000 words, and I really recommend checking it out because it’s amazing.

[icy-writes]

Safe and Soundly

Chapter One - Un  | Chapter Two - Dau

Tri

“Uh, Master?” came the stuttering voice of Hisirdoux from the other end of the fire.

“Not now Hisirdoux!”

She gave a small smile to the boy as he looked back and forth between her visage in the flames and to where she presumed Merlin was. Personally, she hated trying to contact anyone this way, as it tended to frighten the recipients, but it was only fair to Merlin.

Hisirdoux, on the other hand… Well, she could do without frightening him.

“But it’s —”

“Hirsirdoux, I believe that the slorr is looking to be milked.”

“Oh not the slorr…”

“Best be going,” she said to him. “I’ll worry about Merlin.”

The boy sighed and stalked off down and out of the tower. As far as she could tell, Merlin was alone.

“That was a little bit cruel,” she said, smiling when she heard the clatter of something Merlin had no doubt been handling. “Then again, you always did like to torture your favorite students by having them milk the slorr.”

“Is there a reason that you are contacting me?” he said as he came into view. 

“I require your assistance.”

“The only time you have ever required my assistance was when you wanted to learn about something you could use as a prank on Arthur.”

“And you never discouraged me.”

He snorted, pulling up a stool and sitting down in front of her.

“What is it that you need? Some missing ingredients or something? I’ll send Hisirdoux and his new friend right away.”

“No, it’s actually — Hisirdoux has a new friend? When did he have any time to make a new friend with you lording over him?”

“The son of some healer,” Merlin said, waving his hand dismissively. “Hardly anyone of great importance. As you were saying?”

“Right,” she said, “I actually need you here to help with something. It’s a matter of great delicacy, I am afraid. So I can’t explain much this way.”

“I’ll have to leave the comfort of Camelot? Morgana, you know I just came back. I missed sleeping in my bed.”

“Please, Merlin. You can bring Hisirdoux with. I’m sure he would like a little bit of an adventure.”

“You know the world beyond Camelot’s walls aren’t exactly safe for a wizard’s apprentice.”

“Which makes a peace treaty signing something absolutely safe for said apprentice to attend.” When his frown deepened, she sighed and added, “You know I wouldn’t ask for your help if I didn’t require it.”

“It’s something serious then.”

“Yes.”

“Alright, we’ll leave here shortly. After he’s finished milking the slorr.”

“You’re terrible, you know that?”

He gave a little shrug, but she didn’t miss the little smile he gave her as she faded from the flames. Well, that was one thing down.

. . .

“What did Merlin say?” Gawain said quietly, joining her as she ate her dinner in the great hall with everyone else. He sat down on the bench on her left as Lancelot took her right. The room was rather large with multiple tables lined up and down it, benched running along either side. Plates of food were stacked high, and pitchers of wine were passed around.

“He’ll come,” she said, popping a roasted tomato into her mouth. It burst into an amalgamation of char and slightly sour juices. She grimaced at the bitterness.

“Do we know when?” Lancelot said.

“Hisirdoux had some chores to complete first before they’ll head out.”

“He’s bringing him with? We’d do much better with Merlin if he wasn’t here.”

“Having him here would be like having another Gawain,” she said, gesturing to their other companion.

“Yes, another me,” Gawain said, puffing out his chest. After a beat he blinked and deflated. “Hey. Wait a minute!”

They shushed him, turning to see others watching the three of them.

“Perhaps you’re right,” Lancelot said slowly. “Having another Gawain might make us seem less conspicuous.”

“I feel like I’ve been insulted,” Gawain said, setting down the speared cut of chicken he’d been eating.

“I plan on asking Claire to go for a ride with me tomorrow morning,” Morgana said. “It’ll get us both out of the castle and away from most of the curious eyes and ears.”

“Yes, thank you for drawing their attention, Gawain,” Lancelot said.

“Don’t insult me in front of my face!” Gawain hissed shrilly.

“Do you think Edmund will let her go for a ride with you?”

“If we have guards, I have no doubt about it.”

“I thought that we were going to wait until after the treaty’s been signed?” Gawain said.

“It’s just to talk. I would like to get to know her a little better, that’s all.”

“You never did tell us how you planned to keep him from reclaiming her,” Lancelot said.

“I… have my ways,” she said.

Gawain opened his mouth to say something when they were interrupted.

“Sorry to intrude,” said a voice from the opposite side of the long table. Claire smiled at them, tucking a dark strand of hair behind her ear. “May I, um, join you?”

Morgana smiled widely at her.

“Of course!” she said. “I was actually just mentioning my plans to go riding tomorrow morning. Tell me, Lady Claire, do you ride at all?”

“Not well, I’m afraid,” Claire said, taking a spot on the bench and starting to load up her plate with honey and rosemary glazed chicken, roasted vegetables, pickled turnips, and two crusty rolls that she quickly buttered. “Riding has always been a weakness of mine.”

She felt, rather than saw, Lancelot and Gawain share a look over her head.

“That’s alright. I’m not much for riding either. It’s more of something I do out of necessity. Besides, it can’t be good for a girl your age to be stuck inside all day.”

“I get out in the gardens.”

“I’m afraid Morgana’s correct,” Lancelot said, wagging a hunk of his own crusty roll at her. “It’s not healthy to be stuck in the castle too long. It can make one go mad. Like Gawain here.”

“Why do you keep hurting me with your words?” Gawain said.

“They don’t call him Lancelot for nothing,” Morgana said, popping another tomato in her mouth. Great, her food was cold. “He tends to lance you with his words.”

That earned a smile from Claire.

Morgana reached across the table and clasped Claire’s hand.

“Come riding with me,” she said, squeezing Claire’s hand. “Get some fresh air.”

“Al… alright.”

Can also be read on AO3.

[koalas-koalas-everywhere]

Show vs. Tell in The Darkest Hour

The thing about Lancelot's sacrifice in The Darkest Hour is that his motivations are all over the place. I welcome a debate over this, but I find it very difficult to see it as a sacrifice for Gwen, or even Arthur, even though that's clearly what the show was going for.

On the one hand, you have the influence of Arthurian legend, which ties Lancelot's story firmly to Arthur's and Guinevere's. We see this reflected in their close bonds in the show; more with Gwen, but Arthur also was shown to think highly of him in previous episodes (they didn't have many interactions in this two-parter, and none that weren't about Merlin).

We also have his spoken motives: he and other characters bring up his duty as a knight (his conversation with Merlin in Part One where Lancelot tries to convince him to go back to Camelot). Additionally, there's the promise he made to Gwen. So you've got both his affection for her and his sense of duty pushing him to protect Arthur (he says this himself during his conversation with Merlin in that cabin TDH2, that he'll go on with the quest that it's because of the vow he made). At the end of the episode, Gwen also says this (to Arthur, during the pyre scene.

In terms of composition and design, everything points to these being Lancelot's motivations.

And yet. None of this fits with his actual actions during the episodes.

We can overlook him talking almost exclusively with and/or about Merlin, because creating a relationship with the main character is a fast and easy way to endearing him to the audience, in addition to giving him more screen time, which would serve the same purpose.

But, if looking after Arthur's his first priority, how come he immediately tries to get his sworn protector to leave? Sure, Merlin's not a warrior, but it's not like combat skills are of any use against the Dorocha. Also, of the three episodes they'd met before this one, twice Merlin's proven to have privileged information about the threat they were facing. Even just as an extra hand to do chores, look for firewood so no one's ever alone could be useful. Lancelot ought to have known that having Merlin around could only make Arthur safer, yet he insisted that he should leave.

But, okay, let's say that, as a knight, he doesn't feel comfortable with anyone who doesn't know how to fight or who didn't swear an oath endangering themselves; especially if they're his friend, like Merlin is.

How does he justify leaving the quest to take Merlin to Camelot? Any other knight might have volunteered if he'd kept quiet for a bit longer and he could've advised them to go through the Valley. By being the one to take him, he's pretty much abandoning Arthur to his luck and breaking his promise to Gwen. Sure, all the knights are sworn to protect Arthur, but he and Merlin are the ones most devoted to him, for their own reasons. Or they should be. Instead of protecting him with his life, as he promised, Lancelot chooses to take Merlin back to Camelot, despite Merlin's own protests! You know, the guy who always seems to know more than anyone else what's going on and who wants above all else to protect Arthur? (Then again, Lancelot may not have heard said protests, being in such a hurry to ride off that he interrupted his goodbye to Arthur lmao. Sorry, that scene's kinda funny to me, like, Merlin begging Arthur to let him stay and Lancelot in the background, tapping his watch.)

So he rides off with Merlin, leaving Arthur to finish the quest alone, except that they run into the Vilia and they heal Merlin. What does he say to their statement that Arthur needs them both? No can do, I need to get Merlin to Camelot. It's okay, they'll heal him! As he sees for himself the next morning! This should make him change his mind about going to Camelot, right? Except no, it does not. Even after seeing him running around, spearfishing, after trying to smack him with a stick, when Merlin wants to get back to Arthur, Lancelot immediately shuts him down. Even once he agrees, it's only after Merlin makes it clear that he'll go with or without him.

(Then you have that convo in the cabin where he's like "I have to go because I promised Gwen that I'd protect Arthur" like babe you left him. 0/0 would not ask for a promise again.

The funniest thing is that having them go on their own also serves a literary purpose. It gives him and Merlin the opportunity to talk in privacy, giving the audience their due exposition, when around others they'd have to censor themselves to keep their secrets, Merlin's magic and Lancelot's love for Gwen.)

Then skip to the confrontation with the Cailleach. He already knew that Merlin was planning to sacrifice himself instead of Arthur. Arthur himself was unconscious. The only thing he had to do to protect him is stand there and look pretty. For all his penchant for self-sacrifice, we already knew he feared death, because he said himself that it was difficult to imagine knowingly giving his own life. But he still walked through the Veil.

Let's be clear. The person he saved by doing that was Merlin.

Not to say that there was no way of seeing that as protecting Arthur. He'd just been told by two magical sources (the Vilia and Kilgharrah) that Merlin had a huge destiny. It's likely that Merlin had told him the same thing before, as he was pretty loose with his declarations of how he was meant to protect Arthur. So, it's not impossible that he thought that the best way to protect Arthur, not just that once but in the future, was to save Merlin. You can definitely say that. Just like you can definitely get from Spain to India by sailing west without ever stopping on land. You will have to doge a whole ass continent that spans two hemispheres, though. And have fun in the Pole!

Anyway, this isn't meant to be a shipping manifesto. And while I love those two, and enjoy screaming about them to the void, it isn't even about them either. I most definitely don't mean to undermine Lancelot’s love for Gwen. I just wanted to point out this discrepancy between what the show says (Lancelot sacrificed himself for Gwen, Arthur and Camelot, in that order) and what it does (Lancelot sacrificed himself for Merlin).

[the-nerdiest-insanity]

I'll Weather Any Blow

When soulmates can feel each other's pain, it takes Arthur a shockingly long to figure out Merlin is the one sharing with him. Yet as Arthur keeps getting increasingly worse injuries, he's left to wonder what the hell Merlin is actually doing!

on AO3

[canon typical violence, graphic descriptions of injuries, canonical character death, spoilers for season one]

Ships: Merlin/Arthur (could be romantic or platonic) and mentioned Gwen/Lancelot

Ever since Arthur learned about soulmates, he was fairly certain he didn’t have one.

See, most kids his age would always talk about feeling bumps on their knees when they were sitting still or hitting their elbows when not moving, but Arthur, he never got that. He just got his own constant aches and pains from being practically born in armour.

As soon as he was able to walk around on his own, he had a sword in his hand. The prince couldn’t remember a time before training was in his schedule.

As the young boy got older, he realised that perhaps, he just couldn’t feel a soulmate through his own permanent discomfort and that even if he does feel anything, he’d probably thought it was his own from training earlier.

Yet as he grew into an adult, any thoughts of soulmates were pushed far from his mind. Arthur had far more important matters to take care of.

Like currently, this idiot who thought it was smart to question what he did with his servants.

The boy, Merlin, appeared about his age, but stick thin. Arthur was confident he could take him. So, when the other did take a swing, the years of training kicked in as he pinned the right hook back behind Merlin’s back.

He leaned down to gloat when his own shoulder twinged. He’d have to check in with Gaius later. He must have overdone it on the training fields today.

“What, who do you think you are? The king?” Merlin jeered as he squirmed in Arthur’s hold, aggravating his shoulder more, and bringing him back to this current predicament.

Arthur leaned over slightly and countered, “No, I’m his son, Arthur.” He brought the poor idiot to his knees as guards came to collect him.

…

Arthur didn’t spare the peasant another thought, well he tried not to. He definitely didn’t lie awake that night thinking about how no one’s ever really stood up to him like that before other than maybe Morgana. He didn’t think about how he tried to help someone he never met before in a new town–because anyone who’s been in Camelot for even a few days would know who the prince was. And he absolutely wasn’t thinking about if he’d ever see the boy again.

Anyway, Arthur ran across Merlin the next day and decided to do the first thing he could to grab his attention. Call him out. “How's your knee-walking coming along?”

Of course, when the other didn’t rise to the bait, he had to push a little further. “Aw, don't run away!”

”From you?” Merlin asked, still not facing him.

And damn it, Arthur needed to see his face. He needed to figure out why this particular peasant won’t leave his thoughts alone. “Thank God. I thought you were deaf as well as dumb,” he tried prodding once more.

“Look, I've told you you're an ass,” Merlin finally turned to face the prince, “I just didn't realise you were a royal one.” That was the bite that’s been circling his head the last day! “Oh, what are you going to do? Get your daddy's men to protect you?”

Arthur laughed at the other’s fire. “I could take you apart with one blow.”

“I could take you apart with less than that.”

“Are you sure?” Arthur honestly wanted to see him try. He grabbed a pair of maces from a knight next to him. “Here you go.” He tossed Merlin one of them, to which the peasant dodged it, just barely missing him. That wasn’t necessarily his intention, but Merlin didn’t seem too shaken by it.

“Come on, then.” Arthur started swinging his mace, attempting to mildly intimidate the other. “I warn you, I've been trained to kill since birth.”

“Wow,” Merlin dragged out, clearly unimpressed. “And how long have you been training to be a prat?”

The prince lowered his weapon, extremely caught off guard. “You can't address me like that,” he huffed.

“I'm sorry.” A part of Arthur was happy to hear that until Merlin continued. “H-How long have you been training to be a prat, My Lord?” Merlin smiled coyly up at him from the mocking bow.

Now, Arthur has to knock that smug look off his face.

Their fight lasted longer than both parties expected it to go. Arthur came out victorious, as intended. As Merlin was being hauled away by guards, again, Arthur stopped them. “Wait. Let him go.” The prince looked the other over. “He may be an idiot, but he's a brave one. There's something about you, Merlin. I can't quite put my finger on it.”

He left quickly after that, adrenaline leaving him, and soon it caused his injuries to stand out in his mind. For how the fight went, everything seemed accounted for, though he couldn’t remember ever hitting his head.

…

Again, Merlin never crossed Arthur’s mind again for a long time.

That was until he saved Arthur’s life and his father made him the prince’s manservant. Now, Merlin’s everywhere. So much so that Arthur has trouble keeping track of him in the beginning. It doesn’t help that Merlin barely listened to or followed orders.

Honestly, sometimes Merlin felt like a bad luck charm. Whenever Arthur talked him into helping with training, he would always walk away more sore than any other practice.

Of course, then the idiot had to go and sacrifice himself by drinking poison for him.

As soon as he saw his servant falling, he could feel his own breath pick up as he raced to Merlin’s side.

He barely heard Gaius telling him to bring Merlin to the physician’s chambers over the roaring in his ears and the stifling heat of the banquet hall.

Arthur practically ran Merlin to the room, setting him down as carefully as he could. 

“Is he going to be alright?” the prince asked as he shrugged off his own overcoat.

“He's burning up,” Gaius commented while checking Merlin. 

Of course he is, Arthur thought, this castle is sweltering right now.

Guinevere returned with water and a towel for Merlin. “You can cure him, can't you Gaius?” she asked.

Gaius kept a close eye on the boy. “I won't know until I can identify the poison. Pass me the goblet.” Gwen did so. Arthur rolled his sleeves up on his tunic. “Ah. There's something stuck on the inside.”

“What is it?” Arthur asked, trying to keep the mild annoyance out of his voice. Now was the time to focus on Merlin, not his own petty discomfort.

“It looks like a flower petal of some kind,” Gaius said, examining the item he’d pulled from the chalice.

“His brow's on fire,” Gwen reported from where she was trying to help Merlin.

“Keep him cool; it'll help control his fever,” Gaius said as he pulled a book out and started to search.

Arthur wanted to help his servant but didn’t know how. It didn’t help that he was feeling unwell himself. Did he accidentally drink a bit of it? No, he’d be unconscious next to Merlin if that were true. 

Gaius broke him from his spiralling thoughts. “Ah. The petal comes from the Mortaeus flower.” He pointed to a picture in a book that Arthur came over his shoulder to look at. “It says here that someone poisoned by the Mortaeus can only be saved by a potion made from the leaf of the very same flower. It can only be found in the caves deep beneath the Forest of Balor. The flower grows on the roots of the Mortaeus tree.”

The prince made a face at a picture next to the flower. “That's not particularly friendly.”

“A Cockatrice.” Gaius explained. “It guards the forest. Its venom is potent. A single drop would mean certain death. Few who have crossed the Mountains of Isgaard in search of the Mortaeus flower have made it back alive.”

Arthur started to head to the door, his mindset. “Sounds like fun.”

“Arthur, it's too dangerous,” Gaius called, stopping him momentarily.

“If I don't get the antidote, what happens to Merlin?” the prince asked, voice ice cold.

Gaius looked like he didn’t want to explain it, though he knew he must. “The Mortaeus induces a slow and painful death. He may hold out for four, maybe five days, but not for much longer. Eventually, he will die.”

Arthur nodded and left the room, resolute in his quest.

…

“What's the point of having people to taste for you if you're going to get yourself killed anyway?”

Arthur did his best to keep his strides even with his father and not let any of his discomfort show. Asking for this was already a long shot. If he showed any signs of being ill, he would be immediately shut down. “I won't fail, no matter what you think.”

“Arthur, you are my only son and heir.” Uther seemed finished with this conversation already. “I can't risk losing you for the sake of some serving boy.”

“Oh, because his life's worthless?” Arthur retorted, currently getting angrier than he should be if he wanted any hope of going.

“No,” Uther cut him off, turning around to fully face the prince, “because it's worth less than yours.”

“I can save him.” Arthur wanted to bargain, but knew it would be wasted breath. Breath that was coming harder for him each hour. “Let me take some men.”

“No,” Uther responded with an air of finality, except Arthur was slowly realising that he would push or even break many boundaries for Merlin.

“We'll find the antidote and bring it back.”

“No.”

“Why not?” Arthur nearly yelled. He tried to keep his breathing steady and not let the exhaustion from fighting this verbal battle show any more than it is. His temper is nearly out of his control.

Uther looked his son over before replying in a low, level voice, “Because one day I will be dead and Camelot will need a king. A king who won’t get so worked up over a lowly peasant. And I'm not going to let you jeopardise the future of this kingdom over some fool's errand.”

Arthur adjusted his sword belt, willing himself to get a grip on his emotions for Merlin’s sake. “It's not a fool's errand,” he said calmly. “Gaius says that if we can get the antidote…”

“Oh, Gaius says?” the king interrupted, seeming to finally hit the edge of his own temper, “That's exactly what makes it so.”

“Please, Father.” Arthur can practically feel his friend’s life slipping through his fingers. “He saved my life. I can't stand by and watch him die.”

Uther met his child’s gaze once more. “Then don't look.” 

…

In the end, after his own conscious eating at him, the stifling feelings of being in the castle, and a rousing pep talk from Morgana, Arthur was able to set off in the middle of the night on a solo quest to save Merlin. 

As he reached the forest just outside of the citadel, Arthur was already regretting not bringing at least one other person. His breathing was far too ragged and fast, especially for the slightly relaxed pace he was going. He wanted to push himself further, afraid that any time dawdling could mean Merlin’s death. But if Arthur ended up passed out in the forest for several days from exhaustion from overexerting his ailing body, he wouldn’t be of much use to anyone.

After a needed break, he started his long journey again at dawn. As he shook the remnants of sleep off of him, he noticed a stinging, burning itch inside his left arm. Confused, the prince moved his clothing around before getting a good look at the strange, discoloured patch of skin with a raw red ring around it. 

His first thought was that something must have gotten under his gambeson when he was asleep. Thankfully, he had chosen to rest near a riverbed. He remembered a little of what Gaius had told him to do in this situation, so he tried to rinse off anything that might still be on top of the skin. The cool water should help soothe it a bit, yet when he ran the arm under water, nothing happened. The prince obviously could feel the water running as smooth as silk over his skin, but it somehow never touched the rash, for better or worse. 

When nothing seemed to happen, Arthur removed his arm and dried it off as best he could, surprisingly, the cloth didn’t bother it much either. He knew that he should figure out what exactly was going wrong with him, but Arthur knew he wouldn’t find answers in the forest. Since it wasn’t causing any current trouble, he decided it was best to push it aside for now and focus on the task at hand. With that thought, the prince finished gathering what little belongings he had on him, got on his horse, and continued onward.

However, as he made his way through the land, his mind kept drifting to his arm. What exactly could have caused it? It was likely magic from the unordinary behaviour. It didn’t appear to be killing him, at the very least not quickly. As he began walking, trying to remember the way he was shown, a stray thought crossed his mind: What if it’s your soulmate? Arthur stopped momentarily, caught completely off guard. He hasn’t given any real, deep thought to soulmates in likely a decade. He shook his head, clearing it. He had long since accepted that he didn’t have a soulmate, not even a platonic one. The thought that one would show itself now, so late in Arthur’s life was almost laughably ridiculous.

Quiet sobbing broke the prince from his musings.

…

The task of picking a flower from a cave turned into a challenge harder than just finding the damn place. The random vengeful witch and quickly worsening health was not helping. 

But, after heaving and pulling himself through the spider-filled cave, Arthur completed his task. Barely staying awake atop his horse, he rode as quickly for Camelot as he could, only to get immediately hauled off to the dungeons by reluctant knights.

“You disobeyed me,” his father bellowed.

“Of course I did,” Arthur responded, leaning against the wall of his cell. He couldn’t hide the fatigue anymore. “A man's life was at stake. Do not let Merlin die because of something I did.” Despite barely staying on his feet, he kept his voice fairly level.

Uther eyed his son up and down, carefully examining him, what for, Arthur couldn’t figure out. “Why do you care so much? The boy is just a servant, and you’re clearly much worse off for it.” He motioned towards a patch of Athur’s exposed chest where the rash had climbed to. Suddenly self-conscious, he adjusted his shirt slightly and pushed more of the sweat out of his eyes.

The prince pushed himself from the wall, staggering slightly, though doing his best to put himself at his father’s eye level. “He knew the danger he was putting himself in, and he knew what would happen if he drank from that goblet, but he did it anyway. He saved my life.” Arthur drew a shaky breath. His breathing seemed to have been progressively getting slower since around the time he’d been placed in his cell. “There's more. There was a woman at the mountain. She knew I was there for the flower. I don't think it was Bayard who tried to poison me.”

A strange look crossed Uther’s face, but Arthur was too far gone to try and decipher it. “Of course it was.”

A chill ran down Arthur’s spine and his knees tried to shake. He knew this conversation needed to end soon for his own sake. Slowly pulling out the Morteus, he said, “Gaius knows what to do with it.” Uther moved across the room and grabbed the flower. Arthur could have wept with relief. Merlin would be safe. Another chill tried to chase away his fever causing him to shudder as he continued, “Put me in the stocks for a week, a month even, I don't care. Just make sure it gets to him. I'm begging you.” He stared his father down, hoping the sincerity and attempt at platitude would work.

Uther began to walk away and Arthur truly thought it had worked before his father crushed the flower in his hand.

“No!” Arthur yelled, reaching for the flower, only managing to tangle his weakened legs together and crumple to the ground.

The king looked down at his son as he said, “You have to learn there's a right and a wrong way of doing things. I'll see you're let out in a week. Then you can find yourself another servant.”

Arthur tried to pull himself up and towards his retreating hope as Uther left the cell and dropped the flower remains just outside of it. The guards shut and lock the door behind the king. Arthur crawled his way over to the bars, reaching for the flower with the little energy he had left. With the tips of his fingers, he grabbed it and brought the treasure inside with him. Unsure how to proceed, he cradled Merlin’s hope close to his chest as he passed out against the bars of his cell.

…

Arthur woke to the metal he was leaning on getting pulled out from under him. He didn’t even have the strength to catch himself. He just let himself fall to the cold, hard ground. Someone hovered over him expectantly, so Arthur reluctantly opened his eyes to find Guinevere staring nervously down at him. He tried to think of something, but his brain was not firing very fast.

Quickly enough though, he motioned near him with a languid wave of his hand saying, “Set it down over there.”

Gwen rushed to comply as Arthur slowly crawled to follow. As the plate was set down, Gwen looked over at Arthur expectantly.

“Thank you,” the prince said, pointedly before looking down at the plate. His stomach rolled at the mere thought of food. He carefully picked at a few of the pieces, sliding the Morteus within.

“Wait a minute,” he called to a retreating Guinevere. He shifted to the side giving her easy access to the plate and antidote while still trying to appear nonplussed.

“I couldn't possibly eat this, it's disgusting,” he attempted to scoff, but it ended up turning into a coughing fit at the end. Guinevere moved to help him, yet he waved her own. After a minute, he continued, “The state it's in, I'm not sure it's fit for anyone.”

A sparkle lit up in Gwen’s eyes right before she bowed her head, grabbing the plate once more. She quickly made her way out of the cell. Arthur ran one hand over his face, pushing the sweat-soaked hair out of the way while keeping his other hand close to his chest, keeping up appearances and all, then let his head fall back against the wall. Merlin would be safe. With one last shuddering breath, he happily slipped unconscious.

…

Arthur awoke the next day, still in his cold, dank cell, though, somehow, miraculously better. All of his ailments just vanished from the fever to rash to fatigue. The only thing left was hunger from refusing his food yesterday. Of course, his father still sent Gaius to check him over, not knowing about Arthur’s improved condition and likely wouldn’t believe it. Arthur was remorseful to take the physician away from Merlin so soon; however, he was grateful for anyone able to give him any insight into how his manservant might be doing. 

Gaius began his examination, seemingly unsure of what he was looking for.

“How’s he doing?” Arthur started

A small smile tugged at Gaius’s lips as he continued working on the prince. “He’s much better thanks to you, sire. Take a deep breath for me, now.”

Arthur complied, happy that he actually could now. “And everything seems alright? Nothing lingering?”

The physician stepped away from him. “I believe I should be asking you that, sire. You appear to be in perfect health while the king talked as though you were on death’s door.”

Arthur shrugged. “I can’t explain it, Gaius. I was feverish, had chills, rashes everywhere, and horrible fatigue. Then I woke this morning, and it was gone. First the light and now this,” he muttered the last bit to himself.

“What was that, your highness?” 

Arthur looked over at Gaius. “Just, when I was struggling in the cave, someone knew I was in trouble and sent a light to guide the way. Now, I’m in perfect health after nearly dying. It seems like someone is watching over me, keeping me from harm.”

Gaius turned away from the prince, a troubled expression crossing over his face.

Arthur hastily jumped to add, “Not that I would condone any magic in Camelot, especially against the prince.”

“Of course not, sire. I would never suggest such a thing.” Gaius responded while rummaging in his medicine bag. After a moment, he pulled out a blue vial that looked just like one of Morgana’s sleeping draughts. “Now, take this right before bed just to make sure everything is out of your system.”

Arthur took the bottle and nodded in thanks as the physician left.

He took the drink as instructed and swiftly fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

As Uther praised Gaius for his miracle cure while backhandedly telling Arthur off for doing something so stupid and reckless, the prince felt a phantom pain hit his shin and run down his leg.

…

Arthur was pointedly not thinking about soulmates. The problem was, they just kept coming up –like some other smart-mouthed nuisance in his life. This one, however, he couldn’t just send to muck out his stables when he’s annoyed with it, no matter how much he wished to.

About a week or so after he was released for saving Merlin, Guinevere found her soulmate. Arthur would admit that he felt a bit bad for the trouble he must have put the poor girl through when Lancelot first came to Camelot. He wished there was a way that he could have kept the pair together. He accidentally overheard Morgana telling Gwen that she could leave and be with the almost-knight if that’s what she wanted, but Guinevere put her foot down, saying that Camelot was her home and she wouldn’t leave it. That didn’t stop her from crying as she watched Lancelot leave, staring out over the horizon long after he was gone.

Arthur found himself rubbing his wrist as he watched her before shaking his head and walking away.

The prince has noticed some… things of his own.

Randomly he’ll wake up with bruises forming rings around his wrists and a light red circle around his neck. Usually, a backache accompanies it as well. He can never figure out the source. He just wears higher collars and longer sleeves, while working through the pain.

That quiet voice in the back of his mind always has an answer though Arthur refused to entertain it.

There are also the burn marks. They weren’t on his fingertips or even his hands, but lightly across his forearms and scattered around his lower legs. He would know if he himself had gotten them, and they started to tell a worrying story.

He didn’t have much time to dwell on that because soon after he met Sophia.

Sophia drowned out that quiet voice.

She drowned out a lot of voices.

She drowned Ar… 

…

“Arthur?”

The prince groaned from where he was lying in bed. He was in extraordinary pain. He had a headache cleaving his head in half, making the room feel like it was swirling, as well as horrid, shooting pains down his spine. “What happened?” he moaned. He half opened his eyes before closing them with another groan as he was greeted by blinding light. “Where am I?”

“Can you remember anything?” A voice that sounds like Merlin murmurs next to him.

Arthur slowly tried to sit up, grumbling and grabbing his face, “Oh! Oh, my head! There was a girl. Sophia, she...I asked my father something about her, I asked him…” He bolted up in bed, immediately rejecting the action, sighing and dropping his aching head in his palms. “What was I thinking?” He would yell if it wouldn’t send his head ringing.

“Well, we did wonder,” Merlin continued. “Especially when you eloped with her last night.”

Arthur peered at the offending manservant between his fingers. “I did what?” he growled.

“Merlin had to bring you back to Camelot,” Gaius stated.

“I don't recall any of this.” Arthur massaged his head, afraid this was going to somehow make the migraine worse.

“Must've been some blow,” Gaius continued.

“What blow?” Other than to my ego, he chose to leave unsaid. Arthur finally lifted his head fully from his hands, looking at the pair.

“Well…er…when I caught up with you, I couldn't persuade you to return, you were beyond reason. So I had to make you.” Merlin stated, completely serious.

The prince groaned once again, flopping back on his bed. A mistake since it sent his head swimming again. He ground the heels of his palms into his eyes, hoping it would help. It did not. “What did you use, my chainmail?”

“What?” Merlin questioned, sounding innocent, except Arthur didn’t believe it.

“My head is tearing itself in two, I can barely think with how the room is swaying, and my back is shooting fire through my spine. I have no idea someone like Merlin could hit me hard enough to do this much damage.”

“Uh… I only used a lump of wood, I swear.”

Arthur moved his hands away from his eyes to see Gaius staring Merlin down. Maybe Arthur wasn’t too far from the truth after all. He pointed to Merlin. “No one…can know about this–” the prince switched to Gaius “–any of it. Is that understood?” He tried to appear intimidating, but from the smirk trying to worm its way onto Merlin’s face, he wasn’t succeeding. He sighed into his bedding.

…

Soulmates actually left Arthur’s mind for a while between helping druid boys escape execution and unkillable coming to try and challenge him. 

Strangely enough, they came back while he was far away from the throne, in Ealdor. 

He noticed as he trained the men that afterward, they each had someone to go to, someone who knew exactly what to do, where exactly it hurt before it was ever spoken aloud.

Arthur rubbed his sore shoulder from showing sword-swinging techniques all day and wondered if he would ever find anything like that.

The next day, he guided the men in sword basics once more when he felt a scrap against his cheek. Arthur immediately looked up and around, for what, he wasn’t sure. No one was around to have hit him. Was he looking for the threat?

He brushed it off for the rest of the day until that night.

The group from Camelot was gathered around Hunith’s table, eating what she could provide for dinner, when something caught Arthur’s eye. Merlin turned his head to talk to one of the ladies and the candlelight shined against a new cut.

“Merlin, when’d you get that on your jaw?” the prince asked.

Merlin covered it with his hand and chuckled. “Oh, that? I got nicked by one of the men during training today. Nothing I won’t live through.” He smiled brightly at Arthur before getting back into his food. Something tightened in Arthur’s chest that he couldn’t explain.

That quiet voice in the back of Arthur’s head had a lot to say about that.

Unconsciously, Arthur started to pay more attention to Merlin in the days leading up to the battle. He tried to tell himself that it was because they were forced into temporary close quarters, but there is only so far you can fool yourself.

Merlin was very good at changing out of sight. By the time Arthur was awake, Merlin was dressed and the servant was always the first into sleep clothes.

Arthur caught flashes of skin here and there. He catalogued them as quickly as he could, memorising them and only trying to see if they were replicated on his own body late into the night.

When the actual battle came around, the prince was acutely aware of every pain he was feeling, his own and his other half’s.

Arthur figured by the time they had successfully driven out Kanen and his men, he would have a better understanding of everything and maybe even try to talk to Merlin.

Then, Will got hurt.

…

Arthur knew that Merlin would need some space and time. Arthur figured he could use that as well to gather more data.

He tried to take Merlin hunting to clear their heads.

That didn’t end well.

Except, the more time it took surprisingly the more Arthur got excited. 

As he got more and more information of little things connecting him and Merlin, the giddier he was. There really was someone out there for Arthur. And it was his best friend–even if he would never tell the other that to his face.

Arthur started thinking of ways to tell Merlin. Maybe just slip it into a random conversation one day. Maybe bring the other into his room for a private meal and talk about the great work Merlin’s done for him the past year. Maybe just drop his own hints until Merlin figured it out, though that may take a while.

He had accepted it enough now, that it wouldn’t distract him too much from his daily work. Well, ordinary things wouldn’t, at least. Currently, Arthur was training with the knights while his father and Morgana were off on a visit to the lady’s father’s grave.

He was in the middle of a sparring match with Leon when it hit him. What hit him, he wasn’t sure, just one moment, he was holding his own just fine against his friend. The next, he was flat on his back, groaning, his ears were ringing, his muscles were pulled taut, and a buzzing sensation was running through his body. 

When he could finally loosen his muscles enough to open his eyes and look around, he realised he was in the physician’s quarters. He must have been out for at least a little while to get here.

Arthur heard the door bang open. He attempted to get a glimpse of the person but still couldn’t move very well.

Thankfully, Gaius saw the attempt and called, “Sire? Are you awake?”

Garbled sounds and moans came from the patient cot. The prince’s mouth hadn’t fully regained feeling or function.

The physician came over and helped him sit up slightly. Arthur attempted to lightly move the muscles he could feel. When he could finally speak mostly clearly again, Arthur asked, “Where’s Merlin?”

Gaius looked up, confused and concerned from where he was examining the other. “He had to run an errand for me, sire. He should be back shortly. Can I pass along a message?”

“No,” Arthur groaned out as he continued to stretch out around Gaius’s probing. 

Now, the prince knew that he wasn’t always the sharpest sword in the rack; however, he could see the picture these pieces were making. And for once, he wasn’t sure he liked it.

Of course, Arthur still held that excitement of possibly having Merlin as his other half very near and dear to his heart. The issue was then, why the hell is this happening to Merlin?

As Gaius worked on Arthur’s body, he let his mind drift. He thought about the burn marks marring his body, about how badly he hurt after–what he was told–was a simple blow to the head after Sophia, and now about this lightning strike in the middle of a clear day. Who would be doing this to Merlin? Why Merlin of all people? Why has it only gotten this bad after Merlin came to Camelot?

Arthur doesn’t know how to even get close to any of these answers. Merlin wouldn’t give him a straight answer if the prince asked. Clearly, Gaius won’t say anything since he’s hiding whatever Merlin’s doing right now.

Eventually, Gaius deemed Arthur well enough to go about his day, but it was useless. He was completely unfocused for the rest of the day, barely acknowledging anyone who tried to interact with him. He didn’t even see Merlin that night. As he went to sleep, he wondered if that might be a good thing. 

At this point, Arthur almost wished he was wrong just so he could stop hearing Merlin’s screams every time he traced over one of his scars.

…

Arthur still hadn’t found it within himself to tell Merlin anything before they were sent to kill the Questing Beast.

As the beast swept its claw against Arthur, he heard Merlin scream in pain right before he hit the wall and lost consciousness. 

I would do anything to keep Merlin from feeling this pain, was his last thought before darkness took him.

The prince woke to a dull ache covering his body–focused around his left pectoral, utter exhaustion, and his father hovering over him.

He made a promise to himself right then that he’d have a real conversation with Merlin about everything the moment he had the chance.

Merlin never stopped by to see him for two days.

That night, Arthur was pouring himself a drink when his servant finally arrived. “Ah, Merlin,” the prince greeted the other. He was trying for calm and collected while his head was firing about twelve different alarms.

“How are you?” Merlin asked, fidgeting a bit.

Arthur looked him over. Something was up, he would just have to slowly figure it out. It wouldn’t do to have this conversation while Merlin was so tightly wound up. “Good.”

“I'm pleased.”

Arthur took his cup and sat down. “Yes. I owe it all to Gaius.” And you, he wanted to add. He knew there was no way Merlin just sat by while Gaius did everything.

A pause hung in the air and Arthur wondered if now was the chance to get anything out of Merlin when the servant beat him to it. “I need to talk to you.”

Hesitant about where this conversation was going to go, Arthur deflected with his usual tendencies. “You still haven't got it yet, have you? I decide when we need to talk.”

“Not today,” Merlin replied with a dark air of finality.

The prince looked the other over once more. Just a little more goading and something good would snap. “I sometimes wonder if you know who I am,” he teased.

“Oh, I know who you are,” Merlin chimed back, just as quickly.

“Good.”

Merlin finally left the door he’d been sulking in front of while taking the bait. “You're a prat. And a royal one.” A smile tugged at his lips, and oh how Arthur had missed that.

He chuckled lightly, trying to hide his own growing grin. “Are you ever going to change, Merlin?”

“No, you'd get bored.” Arthur winced, his shoulder flaring up and noticed his servant twitch at his side. He rubbed it, trying to soothe it for both of them. “But promise me this, if you get another servant, don't get a bootlicker.”

Arthur looked up, surprised at Merlin. “If this is you trying to leave your job…”

“No,” Merlin cut him off. “I'm happy to be your servant. Till the day I die.”

Then why does this feel like a goodbye, he wanted to say, instead, “Sometimes I think I know you, Merlin. Other times…” Arthur shook his head, fondly.

“Well, I know you,” Merlin jumped to say. Arthur turned his head up, eagerly awaiting the manservant’s next words. “And you're a great warrior. One day, you'll be a great king.”

Arthur felt something sharp burrow between his ribs, like a small dagger. “That's very kind of you,” he replied, hoping now would be his opening to change the subject. His gut was telling him it was now or never.

“But you must learn to listen as well as you fight,” Merlin continued.

The dagger twisted inside. “Any other pointers?” he asked.

“No. That's it.” Both men seemed to take a breath. Arthur was about to start the conversation back up again when Merlin finished, “Just...don't be a prat.” With that, Merlin turned on his heels and left. Arthur tried to call after him, but it was no use. Arthur felt the dagger get pulled out, leaving him feeling empty.

It was getting late, the next day. Arthur had asked just about everyone he’d seen to send Merlin his way, yet no one had appeared to have seen him. The prince was still not allowed to move around much, so he was stuck in his room with nothing except his thoughts and horrible paperwork.

He was sitting at his desk, trying to read the words for the eighth time when he felt the first set of flames. It was hard to tell what exactly it was. There was just a light burn, like standing too close to an open fire with bare skin. It set Arthur’s teeth on edge and made his whole body tense. What the hell is he doing now? he thought.

It couldn’t have been more than a few seconds, a whole minute at most, before the fireball hit. This pain was unimaginable heat and sent all of his nerves into overdrive for a second before it was too much and they all switched off. That was about when he passed out.

A servant found him sometime later, passed out at his desk. Arthur woke with a start, looking around, the only thing on his mind was find Merlin. “Where’s Merlin?” he immediately asked the other. 

The servant jumped slightly and Arthur realised that in his haste, he growled at the poor person. “Uh… I don’t know, sire. As far as I’m aware, no one has seen him at all today.”

Arthur nodded, bringing awareness to his chest. There was a numb sort of pain settling there, which he knew from Gaius’s lectures couldn’t mean anything good. “Just, make sure everyone knows that he is to come straight here once you find him.”

The servant bowed. “Yes, your highness.” And scurried out of the room.

Arthur watched them go and noticed a tray on his table that wasn’t there before. Ah. The servant must have been bringing him dinner and thought he had fallen asleep at his desk. Well, he thought, better that than the truth. He sighed and ran his hands over his face. He and Merlin were going to have words and the slippery servant wasn’t getting out of it this time.

…

Arthur was nodding off in his chair when he heard his chamber door open.

Merlin’s head poked in, looking wide-eyed and worried like something was going to attack him. Arthur cleared his throat causing the other to jump.

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Nice of you to finally show up.”

Merlin had the decency to look a bit sheepish. “Sorry, didn’t mean to keep you waiting. What did you need me for, Sire?” 

Arthur stood and walked around the servant, examining him up and down. The prince had seen a limp when Merlin walked in and could easily see the exhaustion in his servant’s posture. Though the second Arthur started staring, Merlin shrunk away and adjusted himself to try and hide the injuries better. When Arthur was done was his observations, he stared Merlin in the eye and ordered, “Take off your shirt.”

Merlin reeled back, clearly surprised and tried to hide by responding with a smirk, “Wow, so forward my lord.”

The insinuation sent a flush to Arthur’s cheeks, yet he wouldn’t be deterred. “Take it off, or I’ll take it off for you.”

That really confused the manservant. He took a few steps away from the prince. “Alright, I was joking before, but I’m not taking it off.”

Now, was Arthur’s next move childish, absolutely, but he was tired of dancing around the issue, tired of constantly fearing for Merlin while unable to know what was causing harm. 

So, Arthur tackled Merlin. Yet, Merlin wouldn’t go down without a fight. The pair ended up rolling on the floor, fighting each other like children, until Arthur finally got a good enough fist full of the bottom of Merlin’s shirt and pulled it up as far as he could, and pinned the servant down by straddling his hips. “Arthur!” Merlin yelled, muffled by the fabric shoved over his face.

Except, Arthur wasn’t listening. He was staring down at the worst burn mark he’s ever seen. Merlin’s chest was completely charred in the centre with red, blistered skin surrounding it. Arthur’s hand hovered over the blackened skin, unable to look away as tears filled his eyes. His worst fears and greatest fantasies were right in front of him, covered in dirt, scars, and burns, trying to hide his face in his shirt. 

“Merlin, I–” Arthur had a list of things he wanted to say–had planned to say–in this moment, yet he couldn’t say a word.

Merlin was the one to speak first. He moved the shirt down enough to whisper, unable to look the royal in the eye, “Arthur, how did you know about this?”

Arthur huffed a small laugh. “I would think after all this time in Camelot, you would’ve figured out the prince is your soulmate.”

Merlin jumped slightly underneath him, the floor apparently becoming very interesting. “So, you know?”

“Merlin,” Arthur stared at the other, trying to will their eyes to meet. Slowly, Merlin did. “I’ve known for a while now. I just want to know why?”

Merlin looked away once more and Arthur wanted to just force the servant to face him. “There are problems,” Merlins started slowly, “sometimes, that aren’t able to be solved with a sword and shield.”

Arthur didn’t know where Merlin was going with this, patiently waiting for him to continue. 

“Sometimes,”–it almost felt like pulling teeth at this point– “special forces need to be involved.”

The prince gazed down, expectantly, as Merlin squirmed under the scrutiny. “So, you’re saying that you are these… special forces?”

Merlin sighed and muttered something under his breath before all the candles in the room momentarily jumped higher. Arthur jumped as well, whipping around to find the danger when Merlin gently grabbed his face and forced their eyes to meet. 

Oh. Arthur saw the gold trickle out of those big, blue, tearful eyes. “I–I have magic, Arthur.” Merlin fought to keep his voice steady as more tears rushed to those beautiful eyes. “I only use it for you, I swear. I–I never hurt people, unless they try to hurt you first, a–and I’m really careful about it, I promise. Just, please, don’t kill me, not for my sake, but yours. Just–Just say the word and I’ll leave. Well, I won’t leave, but you won’t see me again, I truly sw–” Merlin’s ramblings were cut off as Arthur threw himself down onto the smaller man. 

Merlin broke off into hiccupping sobs as he clung to Arthur’s back for dear life. 

Arthur held the other close, tight, and protectively. He only heard about half of what Merlin said and it would take a while for him to fully process everything, but he knew what he felt like doing and what Merlin needed. He carefully threaded his fingers through the other’s dark hair, massaging softly as Merlin seemed to be relaxing slightly. 

“It’s okay Merlin,” Arthur murmured into the sorcerer’s shoulder. “We both know I wouldn’t last a day without you, soulmate or not.” That startled a laugh out of Merlin and Arthur smiled softly.

“Thank you, Arthur,” Merlin whispered.

“Of course,” Arthur responded, knowing he would do anything to protect the shaking man in his arms.

[clotpolemerlin]

Merwaine fanfic

Here is a merwaine fanfic that I have no explanation for. You can blame @sneakyboymerlin. They told me to unabandon my fic and then this happened. I'll probably post it on ao3 too but here it is in full for yall Hope yall like it?

It was eerily quiet in the physician’s chambers. There was no rustling of jars as Gaius or Merlin prepared potions. There was no prat yelling orders around, acting as if he was late even though Merlin always tells him when he is helping Gaius. There were no hushed talks of magic. No laughter. Not a single sound.

It was quiet. 

Merlin just sat, staring at the man in the patient's cot as if the mere force of his gaze could change something. It wasn’t right for things to be quiet when Gwaine was in the room. Gwaine is always so loud and full of life. He shouldn’t be lying there quiet and motionless except for the barely visible rise and fall of his chest. Gwaine was hardly ever motionless either. His movements were always as loud as the rest of him. 

Merlin missed the sound of Gwaine so much that it was a physical ache. It wasn’t fair. Why did it have to be Gwaine?

There had been a patrol. This was Camelot so, of course, the patrol went badly. Merlin had been an idiot. He was stupid enough to think that somehow he managed to protect them all this time. Of course, that was when Leon yelled for him. No one ever yelled for him like that unless someone was seriously hurt. Whatever Merlin imagined hadn’t been enough to prepare him for the sight of Gwaine. Some bandit had managed to swipe Gwaine across the stomach. There had been so much blood. Gwaine was so lucky nothing internal had been knicked otherwise… Merlin felt sick just thinking about it. 

It had been so close. Gwaine almost didn’t make it back to Camelot. By some miracle, Merlin’s healing spells actually worked. It was probably the hardest thing he had ever done. It was another miracle no one saw. Luckily or unluckily, Merlin had plenty of things to send the knights away to go get for him. Merlin had been desperate enough to heal the man entirely, but he had only managed to keep him from bleeding out. Perhaps that was for the best. If anyone knew magic was involved, it could get Gwaine in trouble. It certainly would’ve ended with Merlin’s head on a stick, but that would’ve been worth it if it meant Gwaine was never this quiet again. 

Merlin looked away from Gwaine’s pale face in shame. His fingernails dug into his legs painfully, but he didn’t stop. Because that was just the problem wasn’t it? He loved Gwaine. He hadn’t ever built up the courage to say those three little words yet, but it was true. He loved Gwaine so much. Too much. Destiny had never been kind to him. It had taken Will, Balinor, Freya, Lancelot… he could go on. There was no way destiny would let him have someone as good as Gwaine. Loving Gwaine was basically no better than killing him himself.

The trembling got worse the more he spiraled. He wasn’t sure when he started crying, but now sobs racked his whole frame. 

“Please,” Merlin begged, leaning over Gwaine’s body, getting closer but not daring to touch, “I promise I won’t get distracted. I will do whatever needs to be done and pay any price. I know Arthur has to be the priority. I know that. I promise I will always protect Arthur. Just please don’t take him from me. I need him. I love him. Please.”

A slight touch against his arm caused Merlin to flinch back, looking up in shock. 

“Should I be offended you’re promising your life to another man at my bedside?” Gwaine asked teasingly. 

It was probably the best sound Merlin had ever heard. His voice sounded rough and pained underneath his humor, and the man was pale and obviously exhausted. But he was alive and talking to him for the first time in days. 

Merlin let out another sob, a happy one this time as he rushed forward. He barely restrained himself from throwing himself on the injured man. Instead, he leaned his head against Gwaine’s shoulder, pressing his face into the crick in his neck while putting his arm lightly around him. 

Gwaine chuckled weakly. Merlin clung slightly tighter, trying to memorize how Gwaine’s laughter felt when he was wrapped around him like this. As if understanding what the other man needed, Gwaine put an arm around Merlin, pulling him even closer. Merlin was worried it would aggravate his injuries but couldn’t bring himself to pull away just yet.

“You know it will take more than destiny to keep me away from you,” Gwaine said. 

His tone was still slightly teasing, but Merlin could tell he meant it. Merlin shook his head against Gwaine’s shoulder. The knight didn’t understand. Destiny would take everything from him if it got in the way of protecting Arthur. He shouldn’t love Gwaine. It was only putting the man in harm’s way. 

“Hey talk to me,” Gwaine said lowly, “Let’s talk about it. I know you are worried, but I promise I can take care of myself.”

Merlin pulled away just to give Gwaine a look. They were currently lying in a patient's cot with a huge cut through his stomach that said otherwise. 

Gwaine smiled smugly at him in return. “There you are,” He said softly. 

Merlin couldn’t meet his gaze for long. How could Gwaine still look at him with so much affection? Merlin almost got him killed. 

“Hey,” Gwaine said again, his hand coaxing Merlin to look up at him again, “It’ll be okay Merlin. I’m alive.”

Merlin finally looked to meet his gaze, tears of frustration welling up again, “This time but Gwaine what if next time I can’t save you in time? I can’t lose you Gwaine. Maybe we shouldn’t be doing this.”

Gwaine’s eyes filled with hurt. It hurt Merlin just as much to see, but the hurt was soon replaced with the stubborn determination that Merlin loved about Gwaine. 

“It won’t. Even if it does, it isn’t your fault, and I won’t regret loving you. Not even for a second. You made life worth living. It would be just as easy to die for you,” Gwaine said as if it was a vow as if it was that easy.

Merlin shook his head, “I don’t want you to die for me. I want you to live even if that means not being with me.”

Gwaine looked conflicted, “Do you honestly not want to be with me?”

“Of course, I want to be with you! Just not if that means you’ll die because of me!” Merlin replied frustrated. 

He shouldn’t be doing this now. He knew better. He had been training with Gaius for years. Merlin should be getting Gwaine water and a pain draft and letting him get some rest. He shouldn’t be having this conversation while Gwaine was sitting there exhausted and in pain. 

Gwaine wrapped his hand around Merlin’s wrist. He used just enough pressure to ground Merlin for a moment, to take him out of his head. Merlin looked at him desperately. God, he really did look so exhausted. 

“What can I do so I don’t lose you,” Gwaine asked, soft and earnest. 

“You aren’t going to lose me,” Merlin replied just as softly, slightly confused.

“Really?” Gwaine asked, looking so so pained, “Because it sounds like you are about to leave me.”

Merlin gave a defeated sigh, “You scared me Gwaine.”

Gwaine gave him a sad smile and tugged on his wrist slightly, “Come back here.”

Merlin let himself be dragged back down easily. He didn’t want to fight anymore. They could fight more later. Right now, he just wanted to enjoy Gwaine being alive. For a moment, everything felt right again. Like Gwaine hadn’t been injured, like Merlin didn’t have a huge destiny. It was just the two of them. 

Sadly reality was quick to return. Gwaine coughed quietly, meaning he was trying not to cough at all. Merlin sat back up carefully, so as not to disturb Gwaine’s injury. Gwaine tried to grab him to drag him back down again. 

Merlin tried to ignore how terrified Gwaine looked and instead put on a smile, “Don’t worry I’m not running away. Let me just get you some water and a pain potion and then we can waste the whole day lying together.”

Gwaine looked slightly surprised but relieved, “Well… hard to say no to that.”

The knight resettled without a fight, but Merlin didn’t miss the fact that Gwaine watched him like a hawk while he gathered the water and potions. He didn’t acknowledge it. Instead, he let Gwaine watch, never moving out of sight. Perhaps he wasn’t the only one scared.

It only took a few minutes before Merlin was back at Gwaine’s side. It showed how much pain Gwaine was in when he didn’t argue against the potion. He downed it in one quick motion. Merlin bit his lips, trying to stop himself from spiraling again into his darker thoughts. Gwaine pulled him back into his side as soon as he was done.

“Can I tell you something?” Gwaine asked quietly.

Merlin nodded into Gwaine’s side.

“You got to promise not to interrupt me till I’m done,” Gwaine said in an oddly serious tone.

Merlin looked up at Gwaine curiously. He seemed serious, so Merlin nodded again, “Promise.”

Gwaine quirked a small smile, “Good. Cause it seems like I need to make some things clear to you.”

Merlin raised an eyebrow.

“No interrupting! You promised,” Gwaine reminded, “Now I need to believe this, or at least that I believe this okay?”

Merlin nodded again, not sure where this was going. 

“Okay good. You are not responsible for my life, at least not any more than any other fellow knight is. You may have magic but that doesn’t mean you are capable of protecting and saving everyone. I know you will always protect me when you can, just like I will always protect you when I can. We will always try, but if you can’t that isn’t your fault. I will never blame you, and I promise I will always try to come back to you no matter what. I know the world hasn’t been kind to you and I know you’ve lost a lot. So I promise I will try to live for you.”

Merlin stared at Gwaine, tears welling in his eyes. He just loved this man so much. After so many people had died for him, Merlin was terrified of losing anyone else. Yet here was this ridiculous man promising to live for him. Despite his dangerous job, despite Merlin’s magic, just despite everything. 

Gwaine smiled a bit hopefully, “So don’t leave me either okay? I’m done now so you can talk now. Please don’t cry anymore.”

Merlin simply wrapped himself around Gwaine, carefully but purposefully, “How can you promise all that?”

He could feel Gwaine’s sigh, “Because I love you. I know it’s not safe for either of us, but I want to try.”

Merlin pulled away just enough to look Gwaine in the eyes. He just looked for a moment. He knew Gwaine was serious, “Okay. I promise too then. No running away.”

Gwaine broke out into a huge grin, “I will hold you to that.”

Merlin rolled his eyes fondly, “That’s sort of the point.”

Gwaine just shrugged, immediately wincing regretfully, “Ah I think I pulled something there”.

Merlin’s eyes widened as he checked the bandages around Gwaine’s stomach in a panic. He breathed a sigh of relief when there was no blood, meaning the idiot likely didn’t tear any stitches. 

“Not dying then?” Gwaine asked jokingly.

Merlin glared up at him with no real heat behind it, “If you tear any stitches I swear I am not redoing them.”

Gwaine’s reply was cut off by a yawn. Likely the pain tonic was kicking in now. Merlin let out an exaggerated sigh and laid back down against Gwaine, “Guess it’s time for bed then.”

“Much better with you here,” Gwaine admitted sleepily.

Merlin merely smiled as he heard Gwaine fall asleep. His breathing was still too forced, and he was still in a lot of pain, and they still would have to deal with weeks of Gwaine’s complaining as he dealt with bed rest, but he was alive. Merlin closed his eyes and just let him bask in it. He decided to hell with destiny. He would protect Arthur, and he would do it with Gwaine at his side because Gwaine was who he needed next to him. Destiny could just try and take him. Merlin was never letting this man go as long as he lived.

[angelynmoon]

Arthur shouldn't be surprised at the new Dragon on the training field, he really shouldn't, but he is, a little, mostly because no one can find Merlin or the Hatchlings. Even Lancelot and Gwaine have vanished and there is a dark scaled Dragon staring at him.

It's eyes had snapped wide open as soon as Arthur had arrive that morning and everytime he tried to get closer it growled, deep in it's throat, but the way it held it's wing, mostly stretched open made Arthur think it may be injured, and Arthur was no Merlin but he wanted to help.

It took hours before the Dragon finally shook it's head and stood, lifting it's large wings and shaking them out.

Arthur let out a sigh of relief when he saw Merlin in his Dragonskin follow the dark Dragon, a slightly smaller green one letting out a yawn accompanied by a jet of fire.

The green Dragon jerked up in what could only be surprise and flailed while Merlin corraled Ellie and Effie towards the largest Dragon.

"Merlin!" Arthur shouted, stopping his approach when the dark Dragon looked at him.

Merlin huffed and nuzzled at the big Dragon and Arthur's eyes narrowed, Merlin was only so affectionate with Lancelot, and Merlin wasn't one for cheating.

"Did you turn Lancelot into a Dragon?!" Arthur screamed.

"No, Gwaine made a foolish comment and Ellie and Effie made them Dragons." Merlin explained, "They won't be able to speak the Human tongue yet, but it should wear off in a week or so."

The green Dragon let out a shriek that Merlin ignored but Lancelot didn't, turning to the smaller Dragon and growling something out that had Gwaine looking chastised.

"Why won't he let me closer?" Arthur asked, Lancelot must know that Arthur wouldn't hurt them.

"Lancelot is more Dragon than human right now, he doesn't have the benefit of Magic to protect his mind, not to mention his family is more Dragon than not, even me, even when I'm human, Gwaine at least has the benefit of Leon and Percival still being human to retain his human mind." Merlin explained, "Lancelot was feeling more Dragonlike even before this happened."

"Yes, that does explain some of his behavior, but what do we do? He's too big for your tower." Arthur pointed out.

"I was thinking that we could go searching for more eggs, Lancelot and I are DragonMated now and we'll be called to them." Merlin told him.

"Weren't you before?" Arthur asked as his eyes fell on Lancelot as he began playfighting with Gwaine and the twins.

Merlin shook his head, "No, a Dragon is only called to an egg once Mated, the only reason Kilgharrah can find them is that he once had a Mate and lost her. I think, I think he might be trying to find her last clutch, she laid them right before the Purge but was one of the first Dragons lost to it and she never told anyone where she hid them."

Arthur sighed, eyes closed, he couldn't imagine losing Gwen or not knowing if Morgana was safe now that she was his daughter, oh, he'd had a hard time when she was his sister but now, he could blame the deaths the Great Dragon had done, could be angry about the loss of life, but part of him understood, he did not want to discover what kind of monster he could become if he lost Gwen or Morgana. Arthur could understand the Great Dragon for what he'd done out of grief and anger, but he would not let him back into Camelot, he could not risk his people, and he could not forgive what that grief had cost them, what it had cost Merlin.

"Could we come along or is it a Dragons only trip?" Arthur asked, he could use some time away from the council, Gwen would understand and she could handle them better than he could now that they were engaged.

Merlin tilted his head and turned to Lancelot as he came closer, having left Gwaine to greet Percival and Leon, the twins playing with his swishing tail, play hunting.

Lancelot rumbled and looked down at Arthur, there was both a protective gleam and a threat in those golden eyes, a promise of death should Arthur hurt his Kin.

Arthur gazed back and gave a slight nod, threat understood and accepted.

Merlin rolled his eyes at the posturing but nodded, "Lancelot is okay with you coming and Gwaine will want to bring Leon along, he wants to take him flying but you know how Percival is about hights."

Arthur laughed, Percival hated hights, he could manage it and do what needed to be done but if he had a choice he'd take the low ground, poor Gwaine, he'd probably never get Percival to fly with him.

"If he complains, I'll go with Leon to fly, but you have to promise to catch me if we fall, I know Gwaine's first priority will be Leon." Arthur said as he watched Gwaine nuzzle Percival and Leon, who seemed delighted that his father was a Dragon now.

"I promise." Merlin told him with a brief nudge before tucking his head under Lancelot's.

Lancelot gave a fake roar as Effie 'caught' his tail, her tiny teeth not even piercing Lancelot's hard scales but she clung viciously as Lancelot twisted to look at her, rumbling approval at her.

Effie held for a moment longer then released and licked at the 'wound' before moving away, getting caught by Merlin while Ellie got her chance to catch Lancelot's tail.

Arthur watched as Merlin lifted Effie up and began to lick her clean, not that she was really dirty but Arthur supposed it was one of those Dragon things, to get her scented like them or whatever because Lancelot licked a stripe down Effie's spine before Merlin released her to play with Gwaine and Leon.

Come to think about it, Lancelot had licked Gwaine after their play before he'd come over to Merlin. Arthur narrowed his eyes at the two Dragons in front of him.

"Did you two adopt Gwaine?" Arthur asked.

Merlin smiled down at him, "How is it any different than me adopting him as a human?"

Arthur nodded, yeah, that made sense, Merlin had kind of adopted him back then too, even dragged him into their adventures, probably to make sure he was okay.

"He does give off a childish vibe, doesn't he?" Arthur asked as he looked over to where Gwaine was pretending to be defeated by Leon's wooden sword while Effie climbed on top of him.

Lancelot let out a laugh that shook the trees and let Ellie catch his tail so they could scent her and send her off to play with Gwaine and Effie. Then he drapped a wing over Merlin as they settled down to watch the kids play, Merlin eventually falling asleep, at which point Lancelot shifted him around so the drapped wing would hide him from view.

Lancelot stayed alert, head held high as he kept an eye on his Hatchlings and his Mate, eventually he'd take his turn at rest, but so newly Mated and with such young Hatchlings Lancelot was on high alert for another Dragon to try and take his family from him, it was instinct.

Eventually Ellie and Effie would tire and come to hide under Lancelot's wing, while Gwaine would settle himself close to curl around Leon for the boy's nap, Lancelot reaching to tuck him under his other wing, keeping both hidden from view as the knights began their training under the dark Dragon's watchful gaze.

If they were nervous only their scent showed it and Arthur was proud of them for standing their ground when Lancelot deemed it acceptable to participate by sending small jets of fire towards them, not big enough to harm but a test of how they could hold their ground against a Magical Creature.

Most of them did well, some would need practice to hold steady but eventually Arthur would have the only Knights that would be able to hold fast against a Magical threat.

--

A/n: Arthur needed to discover the Dragons on his training ground. Also Lancelot is more Dragon than Human at the moment because he's not a Dragonlord so doesn't have their natural protections and because his connections have more Dragon than most Humans do, that's why Gwaine still has a more human like demeaner because Percival and Leon remain Human.

I hope that makes sense.

[glass-frogs-and-dragons]

Fly, Little Bird

This is my submission for Gwaincelot week 2023! (A bit late, I know, but it's here now)

Day 1- Catch, "This is a terrible idea"

Summary: Lancelot can shapeshift and Gwaine has set out to catch a beautiful bird.

“This is a terrible idea,” Muttered Lancelot. “Why are you so eager to please Arthyr all of a sudden?”

The other man gave no signs of having heard Lancelot’s complaints and continued dodging stray branches and braving the dangers of the forest and his two left feet. It wasn’t that Gwaine was clumsy- you couldn’t be a knight with terrible balance- but he had a knack of both getting distracted too easily by the most mundane of things and at the same time focusing so much that he often forgot about things around him. Many people found this annoying, no matter how efficient he may end up being, but Lancelot found it endearing. 

“What did you say?”

“I said,” Lancelot rolled his eyes and grabbed Gwaine’s arm before he tripped again on a root. “That this is a terrible idea. How are you planning to catch a bird with… a net and seeds? Arthur won’t care whether it’s alive or dead,”

Gwaine steaddied himself with Lancelot’s arm and grinned in response, squeezing his bicep lightly.

“The bird seems to like me, and it’s not like I’m going to hurt it. I just want a feather, that’s all.”

“A… a feather?” L asked, unsure.

Gwaine’s eyes softened and he finally sat down beside a tree, running his fingers through his hair.

“I want to prve that this bird is real and not magical. Arthur hasn’t said it outright, but I know that as soon as I give the word and prove the bird’s existence, he’ll send every knight after it and then the bird will have no place to go. They all say that his wings are made of fire and brimstone and jewels and whatnot, right? If I prove that this bird has normal feathers, then it means it’s not magical, so they don’t need to go after it.”

Lancelot was once again taken aback by the other man’s unusual display of thoughtfulness. 

“So you’re trying to protect it?”

“I sometimes think the bird can understand me. I’d hate to see it hurt.”

Lancelot nodded and sat beside Gwaine, dropping his head on Gwaine’s shoulder, unsure of whether he should pull back when he felt the other man stiffen beside him. Gwaine didn’t give him a chance to do so, however, as he melted against the other man.

“I’m sure the bird appreciates the sentiment.”

Lancelot thought about the events that had brought them to that particular moment and almost chuckled hysterically. He composed himself. Gwaine didn’t need this right now. 

~ooo~

Arthur had received news of another magical sighting with impassiveness and no little boredom. He knew the laws against magic were becoming weaker by the day around Camelot’s borders, but people inside the city were unconvinced. 

There had been several sightings of a bird, each more fantastical than the last. Between wings of fire, human words falling from its beak, diamonds for claws and bright red eyes, Arthur had almost fully lost interest, believing that it was more a product of bored minds than anything else. He was unwilling to follow the rumours, if not because he himself was beginning to doubt his father’s laws against magic, due to his worry at Morgana’s state.

She had fallen ill short of a month ago, and no doctor had been able to find a cure. Arthur was not supposed to know, but both Gaius and Merlin believed her disease to be caused by magic and would try to find a magical cure. Arthur was worried, just as the rest of the kingdom was, but if her fate was in Merlin’s hands, then he was more relaxed. 

Then he heard it. 

~ooo~

Lancelot had been careless. 

Usually he walked far enough not to encounter anyone during his sifs and he definitely wouldn’t fly close enough to any town, nevermind a city. But lately, for some strange reason, he had been flying closer and turning into a bird more often.

He would say that he didn’t quite remember when the change first took place, but he would most certainly be lying. It was one of the last days of winter, and he had hit himself with a tree branch during his flight and his wing was hurt. It was just his luck that a group of knights was patrolling nearby and Gwaine (Gwaine of all people) had split from the group. It was Gwaine who found him and bandaged, albeit haphazardly, his wing. After that, getting closer to him in his bird form had been a temptation that he couldn’t help but falling prey to. 

Every day he flew closer, every day he spent more time with Gwaine, every day he took longer to shift back. Lancelot barely remembered a time in which he had felt more comfortable in both his skins. However, when the farmer that arrived to court claimed that:

“The bird’s blood can cure Lady Morgana.”

His fate was sealed.

And thus the quest to find and catch himself was born.

~ooo~

“Gwaine,” Lancelot called just as Gwaine was about to stand up again.

The man’s eyes glinted with childish excitement and Lancelot’s resolve melted.

“I’ll give you a feather if you keep a secret for me.”

“A feather? Wait how can you-”

“Please,”

Gwaine nodded and sat back down.

“Lancelot, whatever it is-”

His words died in his throat as Lancelot began to shift before his eyes. When the bird, the same creature that he had befriended, appeared before him hopping from one leg to the other awkwardly, Gwaine could not restrain the gasp that left his lips.

“Lancelot? Oh my God, Lancelot.”

The bird, Lancelot, carefully plucked a feather from its wings and laid it in front of Gwaine’s feet. The other man took it reverently and hurried to store it safely inside his bag while Lancelot changed back.

“This is it, I guess. My secret.” Lancelot croaked.

“Why?”

“What do you mean? I can’t exactly stay too long without shifting. Since birth I’ve found it hard to-”

“Why did you come back after I helped you? I just made it less safe for you.”

Lancelot stared at him for a while, then chuckles ebgan falling from his lips. He laughed and laughed until Gwaine was almost holding him in his arms.

“I don’t think I’ve felt safer with anyone else, Gwaine. Not in a long time, at least.”

Lancelot could feel Gwaine’s heart speeding up and his leg starting to bounce. He clung onto him just a bit tighter for just a bit longer.

“How about…” Gwaine cleared his throat. “How about we bring this back to Arthur and then you tell me about the sky?”

Lancelot smiled and, in lieu of any response, linked their fingers together.

(@gwaincelot-week)

[living-an-infinite-nightmare]

Master Of Grief, Lord Of Tears.

Merlin OneShot.

summary:

"You were my safest place, Camelot never was. But I understood that you are Camelot as much as Camelot is you. And you were the ones who shattered me into pieces and left me with nothing. I tried to save you, protect you and love you, Arthur. But at that exact time, I was slowly killing myself. I'm tired, My Lord, I wish to be truly happy, at least once. I deserve it."

Word count: 1,177

Please, do not copy on other websites, this story is mine.

please enjoy! tell me what you think! <3

——————————————————————————

Magic was never the problem, unlike some say and believe.

Magic just existed, always was and always will. It was neither good nor bad. It just adapted to the hearts and will of its bearers, a blank canvas ready to be painted. Whether it was with darkness and blood or light and love.

Magic was just there.

"There" as in everywhere. In life or death, good and bad. The elements, the people, to the core of the Earth.

All around you, you could feel it. Powerful, always moving, alive.

Even when Uther Pendragon, The Cruel King, tried to purge it, magic never left.

Pendragon was a simple man, he hated and was afraid of an entity he could not understand or control.

Yes, the hearts of the ignorants can lead to irreversible agony.

Now there he was, son of the Triple Goddess, the child made of Magic, living inside the corrupted heart of Camelot, serving and protecting the ones that only took from him, leaving the Blessed Child with agony and emptiness.

He thought that Arthur Pendragon would be different from his father, and maybe he was. Merlin tried, but in the end, he failed to see the difference. Promises were made, and loves were confessed but fears were not fought and overcame.

They were always there, at the back of his mind. Never letting him enjoy life, always staying alert for that day to come. For the pyre and the flames. For death.

“They are your friends, they would never hurt you..” he would tell himself, a lie he forced himself to believe.

“But are they really?” his mind would counter, “How can they be your friends when you can't be yourself around them? How can they be your friends when you live in fear for your life every day because of them?”

Arthur, Percival, Elyan, Gwen, Leon, and even Gwiane were all the same in front of his magic. Always warning him to never truly trust. Lancelot was different, Merlin felt safe, safer than he ever was when he was around. It was a different type of safe than the one with Arthur because Lancelot knew. And Magic knew that. Merlin likes to believe that the Triple Goddess sent the man his way. To protect him.

But then, his protector died, right in front of him. And Merlin wanted to follow him right after. He resented everyone. Why did they get to live, when the only person that truly made him feel at home was gone? Why happiness was so cruel to him? What has he ever done to deserve that?

That night he cried with Gwen and talked for hours. She grieved that man she truly loved, and Merlin grieved a friend, knowing that Lancelot was way more than that. He was his anchor, but he could not say that to anyone anymore. Because he was gone.

The Druids were calling for him. Telling him to leave that wretched place and come to them. His people, his kin. He always ignored them, too focused on the prophecy and his love for Arthur Pendragon. But maybe, if he had left sooner, his heart would still be in one piece, still beating with hope inside him.

Only once, he thought about leaving Camelot. With Freya, his first love. And Arthur took that way from him, broke him. That's all he ever did, bringing him only pain and misery. He really should have left sooner.

Now, there he was, wandering in the forest at night looking for a way home. He took nothing with him, just a little food and his handkerchief. Nature would give him the rest, he was Her child, after all. He didn’t say goodbye to anyone. They would not understand, especially Arthur. He only wished that he could’ve taken Morgana with him, she deserved happiness too. But it would have been too dangerous, Uther loved her too much, It was too risky. Maybe one day she would find her way to him, to her kin. He would give her clues to do so, and he left her a letter, hoping that she would not betray him.

It was a chill night, the moon was full, shining upon him. He sat under a tree, tired from walking all day. He needed food and rest, home was a few days away.

“You should light a fire, otherwise, you will freeze to death.” someone said, walking away from the shadows to be seen. There he was, Arthur Pendragon, looking down at him. Did he follow him all the way? But why? To imprison him for leaving Camelot without consent? To bring him back and slowly kill him again?

“What are you doing here?” the warlock asked, confused, and scared.

“I could ask you the same thing,” the prince replied. “Pretty sure Gaius did not ask you to look for herbs at this time of the night, so far away from the castle.”

Seven Hells, he never imagined to be followed, so he did not know what to say to the man now sitting in front of him.

“I’m going home,” he said, after a while, not looking at the man.

“Ealdor is the other way.”

“That’s not my home anymore.”

“Right, I thought that Camelot was.”

“It is not.”

They stayed silent after that, both of them thinking, too afraid to say what is inside their hearts.

“So you are leaving Camelot?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I wish to be free.”

The prince was confused, he could see it. ‘How can one not be free in Camelot’ That is what was on his mind. Little did he know, not everyone was Uther Pendragon’s heir.

“But I thought–”

"You thought wrong.” the warlock stated.” you were my safest place, Camelot never was. But I understood that you are Camelot as much as Camelot is you. And you were the ones who shattered me into pieces and left me with nothing. I tried to save you, protect you and love you, Arthur. But at that exact time, I was slowly killing myself. I'm tired, My Lord, I wish to be truly happy, at least once. I deserve it."

Silence was upon them once again. A heavy one, filled with pain and regrets.

“I love you,” the prince said, looking at the man in front of him, tears in his eyes.

“I deserve more than your love, Arthur. Your love is not safe, it’s not warm. It’s a prison.”

“I don’t wanna lose you.”

“You can’t lose me, because I was never yours. Let me go, let me be who I am.”

“I don't get it.”

“You could never:”

They were both crying. So in love with each other, but not destined to be together. At least in this life.

“Go back to Camelot, and forget about me. And if you truly love her, you would free Morgana too.”

That’s the last thing he said to the man, before getting up and disappearing into the shadows, never to be seen again.

Maybe in their next life, they could be together.