#side: mergwaine | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

grandcollections · 4 years

Link

by myashke

Summary:

When Arthur pushes Merlin away to protect him, what lengths will Merlin go to to remain in his life?

Comments:

I read this seven years ago. And although I couldn’t remember much about the fic, seeing the name struck a chord in me— so cliche, but it felt like an electric shock. Instant recognition. I remembered it was one of my favorite fics ever. I remembered images of freezing cold and bonfires, and lots of delicious hurt/comfort, probably the best you’ve ever read, my mind told me. And I remembered the tale centering around Merlin, on how much everyone loves him— I saw more images, snippets of the knights and Arthur trying to protect him— one of my favorite parts of the show and something I love to see in fics.

Arthur laced his gloved fingers through Merlin’s bare ones and lifted them up to his lips. “They’re gone,” he said, lowering their hands to rest on his thigh again, hoping Merlin’s ice cold fingers would warm beneath his own.

Merlin took a deep, shuddering breath, his chest pressing tightly against Arthur’s back. “I don’t know if I can do this,” he whispered, squeezing Arthur’s hand.

“Yes.” Arthur looked down at their joined hands, wondering if it would always be like this, Merlin touching him, their attraction sparking and being smothered over and over under the weight of duty for as long as Merlin stood at his side.

I am so, so glad I decided to reread this now. I needed it. I took my time with it, watching the page count anxiously, not wanting it to ever end.

To be able to read something like this is a gift. Truly. This fic is not only one of the best merthur fics I’ve read, but one of the best pieces of writing.

TLDR: Merlin risks his neck to save Arthur without thinking, of course, nearly freezing to death afterwards. Along with the knights (who play a very active role), they revive him and nurse him back to health slowly. Merlin and Arthur’s feelings come to the surface, along with plenty of angst and big sacrificial energy from both boys. Featuring: hurt/comfort, magic reveal, angst (so much angst) the best characterization of every character, Ealdor shenanigans, wonderful smut and delicious sexual tension, the whole gang of knights and a smattering of mergwaine. And my goddamn favorite thing, the best way I’ve ever seen it: Arthur recognizing everything Merlin has done and truly, truly valuing him.

the rest of my long-ass review below the cut lol!

Everything I said in my first review holds true. It’s beautiful and heart-wrenching. It’s pure, sickening hurt/comfort— if that’s your jam (and it sure is mine), oh boy you’ll be in heaven. It’s full of tenderness— the way Arthur, Gwaine, and Lancelot care for Merlin, the depth of Merlin’s feelings for Arthur, the supremely physical nature of this fic— the first half is a mess of tender touches and skin-to-skin, bodies trying save Merlin’s, described in excruciating detail.

"It’s just me,” Arthur whispered, brushing his hair back from his forehead, his hand slowly rubbing down Merlin’s neck and back, fingers ghosting along his spine, settling finally on his hip.

Arthur held him tightly in place. He brushed slowly, gently back through Merlin’s hair, whispering in his ear, soothing him. “Shh, it’s alright, Merlin. I’m right here. You’re safe. Sleep now... you’ll feel better in the morning... I promise I’ll be right here...”

This is the stuff of hurt/comfort *dreams*. It’s achingly tender and beautiful and full of angst as Merlin stays near death, ice cold, goes through fever, and says and does things as his mind isn’t fully presence in his fever-addled state.

Arthur whispered prayers to God Almighty, to the Gods of the Old Religion, to Merlin himself. Be alive. Be alive.

He’d give up his right to the throne for a blood curdling cry from Merlin right now.

Arthur spends so much of this part of the fic panicking over Merlin, desperate for him to be alright. (One of my favorite merthur tropes)

“Trust me, he’ll thank you for it tomorrow.”

“Gods allow he has breath to thank me with tomorrow,” Arthur whispered, shaking his head as his own words stabbed into his chest. He lowered his cheek to Merlin’s again, whispering,” Gods allow he has breath to rant and rave, if he wants.”

I really love the characterization of everyone in this fic, but I want to focus on Arthur. The entire time I was reading I believed it was him, I believed I was reading about Uther’s-son-the-prince-of-Camelot, First Knight, all of it. I felt his burdens and his pain, the weight of the heavy choices (and one specific heavy choice, the main plot of this fic I suppose) he made.

Arthur pressed Merlin harder against the tree and he opened his eyes, gasping.

“I’m choosing Camelot over you, Merlin. An entire kingdom’s welfare. My bloodline’s future. My gods-damned destiny. And yours, if you stand by me.”

This sort of realism may not be every shipper’s cup of tea, but god is it mine. Because it doesn’t lessen Arthur’s love, need, longing for Merlin. It just incorporates the rest of Arthur into that, alongside it. And produces so much goddamn pain.

Arthur is not always gentle, he is possessive and jealous, but always quick to bury those feelings— unless he can lash out with his authority at his back. And if he does that, he apologizes.. sometimes. If he regains control quickly enough. If it’s one of the knights. (Not always if it’s Merlin). He misunderstands things often and is quick to believe the worst. But he never fails where it’s important— he tries, and that’s key. But he can be intuitive, too— I love how the magic reveal is handled, how it marinates in his mind for a while. How he knows before the reader even knows he knows, and long before anyone else does. It’s a credit done to Arthur we don’t see often— sometimes he reacts badly, or is shocked above all else.

“I thought you’d want rid of me,” Merlin said... “Someone who lied about who I really am.”

“Who? Oh, you mean the Merlin that is actually brave, intelligent, and loyal to the death?” he heard, low and close to his ear. “I’ve known him for a while, too.”

This is JUST.... everything I’ve ever wanted. The way Arthur values Merlin and sees everything he’s done post-magic reveal is one of the primary reasons I love this fic so much, as I’ve said, and I’ll talk about it more later. But another result of the magic reveal is Arthur becoming so protective of Merlin once he does realize. It’s the backbone of this fic.

Merlin grinned as everyone laughed, the light in his eyes a gift Arthur wouldn’t soon forget.

He would have to extinguish it, he knew, but he wouldn’t ever forget what Merlin had looked like in that moment, so entirely at peace with himself and everyone around him....

Pressing his leg harder against Merlin’s, Arthur clenched his jaw on the scream of frustration that welled in his chest.

^ this is Arthur’s reaction as he watches Merlin practice magic, glowing and happy and powerful and whole, because he is afraid that magic is the reason Merlin will die.

Had Merlin watched the executions and thought of himself tied to that post? Had he thought he would be able to escape before the fires were lit beneath him?

The very image of Merlin bound there made Arthur’s stomach curl into a tight knot.

The way Arthur would doom himself to be the villain, to deny himself happiness and even SAFETY— because now he knows he’s only lived this long because of Merlin— to protect Merlin, to prolong his life.

Merlin backed away as Arthur stepped forward again, reaching out to him. He didn’t know how to do this, to push Merlin away when his body felt half-empty with the desire to touch him.

The way he uses his authority as prince and what he is to Merlin to ensure it. (The way Merlin refuses to comply.) I love it so much.

Arthur closed his eyes and took a deep breath, reigning in his anger. “You’re right. I would defy my father and my king to protect you... but it wouldn’t be enough.... it makes me ill to think of how close you’ve come to the pyre.”

“I don’t care. I belong in Camelot, even if I end up a pile of ash.”

excuse me while I scream

“I have my company of knights to protect me.”

“They follow you, they don’t protect you,” Merlin whispered, letting go of Arthur’s arms and worrying the edge of his tunic, then looking into Arthur’s eyes, pleading. “Please don’t ask this of me.”

He’d expected a fight, defiance, but not this, not what amounted to begging.

DELICIOUS. ANGST. Arthur’s protectiveness coupled with Merlin’s stubbornness means we get a whole lot of angst and longing. They have to stay away from each other, but they can’t.

“I should never have let you,” Arthur whispered, shaking his head, “You’re enough of a distraction as it is.”

As they stared at one another, Merlin felt as if something irrevocable was slipping between them. “Arthur, I--”

“Enough,” he breathed, the word a plea more than a command. “We cannot-- I’m not free to--” Arthur sighed, brushing his thumb across Merlin’s lops, shaking his head. “This cannot happen again. Do you understand?”

... “Yes, sire.” Merlin pushed at Arthur’s arm, unwilling to wait for Arthur to let go, unable to lie there, so close, touching, when Arthur was already through with him.

.. Like a bucket of cold water, Arthur’s words had shocked him back into reality, holding up in front of him what he’d tried so hard to forget.

He was a servant, and he would obey.

excuse me?? do you see why you have to go read this fic right NOW, do you SEE?!!

“I knew. I knew and it still feels like I’m splitting open,” Merlin whispered.

ugh.

If anyone else had put that look on Merlin’s face, Arthur would have laid them out flat.

ughHH

“Your life is worth more than this,” Arthur said, smoothing the pad of his thumb across Merlin’s kiss-reddened lips...

Arthur clenched his fists and stared after him, desperate to follow. They couldn’t keep tearing each other to shreds like this. Something had to give.

God this fic is full of GOD-TIER PAIN. It’s genuinely baffling. amazing. groundbreaking, never been done before!!!!

And now I must, I must, discuss the clowning glory of this fic. The thing I wanted most from the show, that pained me the most when I was denied, that frustrated me most about the ending. Arthur seeing Merlin as the hero he is, the powerful sorcerer who did so much for Arthur, Arthur’s family, Arthur’s kingdom. But more than that. Arthur seeing and valuing Merlin, the man. Gaius, Hunith, Gwaine, Lancelot, the knights— they don’t value Merlin because of his magic, or because what he has done or can do for them. It isn’t gratitude they feel. It’s love. And it’s the same for Arthur, here. And I can’t tell you how dear that is to me. How lovely it is to read.

And despite knowing him so well, Merlin had believed in his ability to become a better man from the beginning. Arthur wasn’t blind; he could see that Merlin had reshaped his attitudes over the years, had taught him to think for himself instead of blindly following his father’s example. He learned from Merlin to see beyond pride and the nobility, to be a servant to the people instead of ruling them as his father did.

From the very first moment they’d met, Merlin had encouraged him in gentlest, surest way to seek out the right thing and do it, say it, help it to happen if he could.

again:

Merlin listened even when Arthur couldn’t say a word. Especially then, in fact.

and again:

“I’ve never know someone like him. He’s so... selfless. How many times has he saved us without our knowing? He never asks for reward or recognition. He’s a servant when he could-- he could do anything. Does he not want anything for himself?”

Gwaine chuckled softly. “He wants one thing with all of his being, but you and I both know he would never presume to ask for it.”

and again:

Being alone with him was Arthur’s escape, his sanctuary, no matter where they were.

and again:

“This isn’t negotiable,” he whispered, stepping closer, wanting to comfort Merlin but knowing it would neither be welcome nor fair, given what he was ordering. “You shouldn’t be a servant, Merlin. You shouldn’t have to give up your gift and you shouldn’t waste it on a kingdom that would murder you for it.”

There, he’d said it. Camelot wasn’t worthy of Merlin.

I can’t even react to that line— it’s too wonderful. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted from Arthur. and oh, Merlin returns the favor tenfold. Arthur is Merlin’s existence.

“Please, Arthur,” he begged, his voice barely above a whisper. “Please don’t do this.”

Hands sliding up to either side of Merlin’s neck, Arthur leaned closer, not quite daring to press their foreheads together. “I won’t watch you die.”

“Then close your eyes, but let me... stay with you.”

One of the most GORGEOUS, pain filled lines I’ve ever read!!! The way Merlin swallows his pain over and over again and does what’s best for Arthur is so hard to read but so Merlin. But I do love how this fic balances all that classic devotion and sacrificial energy with a few instances of Merlin taking a stand, standing up for himself and being selfish, without sacrificing the integrity of the character.

Now, let’s talk about mergwaine. Because it’s definitely a side-ship in this fic and I have NO problem with it!!! It’s so well done, and only adds another layer of pain. First of all, Gwaine is just perfect in this fic— shameless, cheeky, all-about-Merlin. A good friend to both Merlin and Arthur— and I loved every time he called Arthur out on Merlin’s behalf, while also saying nothing but good and reassuring things about Arthur to Merlin— but he shines in his scenes with Merlin. His presence allows Merlin to show his pain, something he desperately needs as he can’t always do it with Arthur. I love this depiction of them; a close friendship, one Merlin feels completely comfortable in and full of trust and safety, one that could be something else, but. But. As Gwaine himself puts it, he’s not Arthur. That doesn’t take away from the extreme tenderness he displays with Merlin. It’s truly touching.

Emotions stripped too raw to accept either without the tears starting again, Merlin closed his eyes and pleaded softly. “Don’t let go of me.”

“Never,” Gwaine swore. He laid his forehead against Merlin’s inhaling deeply before pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. “Sleep, my friend.”

and:

“Arthur is hurting too, and he is alone.”

“And I have you,” Merlin whispered, tears threatening to spill from his over-full eyes. “I always have you and he always had me.”

and:

Gwaine kissed his shoulder and hair, arms tightening around his chest. “You deserve him, Merlin. Don’t ever believe that you don’t,” he whispered, drawing out the tears that Merlin had been desperately holding back.

and, for a bit of levity:

“But we’re all better off with me clothed,” Merlin said

Gwaine shook his head disbelievingly. “You really have no idea how handsome you are, do you?... Ah, well, it’s probably for the best. You’d be impossible to live with if you did know.”

There’s so many more wonderful parts of this fic. Arthur and Hunith’s lovely, heartbreaking scene (I was thoroughly crying throughout). Arthur’s loneliness upon return to Camelot. The incredible explicit scenes between Merlin and Arthur. But just do yourself a favor and read it. We’re so lucky to have it.

30 notes · View notes

lit-in-thy-heart · 3 years

Note

If you want to! Mergwaine and tackle hug (romantic or platonic). Idk Gwaine is just the type and it’d be so cute. Maybe after they’ve been reunited??? Or not whatever works 💗

@rainbowvamp thank you for the prompt!! 💕 i took a couple of liberties in that it's a tackle and a hug, i hope that's alright, and i'm sorry about the tone, they just seem to be getting angstier and angstier...

(set a few days after camlann)

as usual, under the cut, and thank you again!!

Whilst the rest of the court marvelled at Gwaine’s miraculously hasty recovery, Gwaine was embracing his newly-discovered invincibility by patrolling the Darkling Woods alone.

He had been clinging to life by a thread, but even in his deadened state he had recognised the hands that had slowly coaxed his body back to consciousness. Instinctively, Gwaine’s own hand jumped to his chest, where he had felt Merlin’s fingers brush against his skin. He wasn’t sure if he’d called out his name, if they’d even spoken, or quite what Merlin had done to him, but Gwaine had been able to sit up after a day and Merlin had been gone.

Healing spells had never been Merlin’s strong suit and Gwaine knew that they were capable of draining every last trace of a skittish pulse if the healer was already weakened. And Merlin would be weakened after watching Arthur die, that Gwaine knew all too well. And Gwaine couldn’t lose Merlin, not after everything that had happened. Particularly not as a result of Merlin reversing Morgana’s damage.

Gwaine pushed through the branches, tucking his hair behind his ear and pausing for a moment by a large oak tree. His fingers fumbled for the knots on the trunk as his legs threatened to crumble beneath him, seeking out the letters carved into the wood. It had been a ridiculous idea, and childish at that, but that hadn’t stopped him from leaving the scar of his initials interlinked with that of Merlin’s in the soft sunset so many years before. Severing himself from the tree as the strength returned to him in gradual waves, Gwaine moved further into the woods, plunging into the translucent darkness left by the shadows of the sun as the leaves above him obscured its path. He and Merlin had grown apart over the last year, and Gwaine had been trying his best to not let it show just how desperately his feet were treading water beneath the surface in the effort to keep their relationship afloat. Merlin had not left his side for a week after Gwaine had returned from Morgana’s clutches with Percival, but he had been paying more and more attention to Arthur and his well being, which Gwaine had attempted to apply logic to. It had made sense that Merlin was focused on Arthur, particularly with the multiple threats lurking in the shadows, and Gwaine himself had sworn loyalty to Arthur. Though that didn’t mean that his service, as it had always been, wasn’t primarily dedicated to Merlin. Everything he did – or had done – for Arthur had been because Merlin had asked him to, or because Gwaine had been able to see the expression lingering in the eyes that he knew so well, the fear that had darkened the delicate irises for the past year.

For a year, Gwaine had mourned the moments where Merlin would unflinchingly tell him about his father, or his magic, or the numerous dangers he’d encountered – though that last one had usually been reserved for when Gwaine had needed a scare to rid himself of hiccups. He had watched Merlin close off more and more of himself and Gwaine hadn’t even realised that Merlin had been dying until he had collapsed on Gwaine’s bed hours after the attempted assassination of Arthur and begrudgingly told him the whole tale. Even then he’d elected to omit the fact that Gwen was wanting Arthur dead, but Gwaine also knew that Merlin had the opinion of himself that his word was worth nothing, despite Gwaine having told him multiple times that he would believe Merlin over Arthur any day of the week. And if Merlin had spent the last of his spirit on Gwaine before they even had the chance to recover the land decimated by drought, Gwaine would never forgive himself.

Through the hesitant birdsong, the snapping of a twig resounded like a crossbow bolt to the skull. Gwaine pressed himself to a tree trunk and, one hand hovering over his sword, ignited sparks that scattered themselves across his fingertips. Through the branches, he caught sight of a hooded figure and a glint of metal and, putting aside all cautions of taking it easy, launched himself at the intruder. Having knocked them to the ground, Gwaine roughly turned them over onto their back between his legs, hand drawn back behind his head as the sparks evolved into ribbons of fire, his eyes burning with the same heat that Merlin’s had flared with so many times.

The same heat that was flickering right in front of him.

In wonder, Merlin reached up with his fingertips to graze the stubble on Gwaine’s chin, the drawn and anxious expression buried amidst it, the bruises stretched out beneath his eyes. When he spoke, he sounded like he was older than time itself. ‘I didn’t think it would work,’ he whispered, the fire in his eyes fading.

Instead of the vibrant blue that Gwaine was used to, the gaze that held his was commanded by the uncertain watery depths of the sky snatched between storm clouds. It was like all the colour had been drained from him and Merlin had been left with the dregs of his former self, and Gwaine’s hands, dropping the flames like he had dropped his guard around the warlock so long ago, jumped to Merlin’s cheeks to check that he was not some trick of his mind.

‘What happened to you?’

‘I gave you all,’ Merlin breathed back, eyes still roaming his form. ‘Because I couldn’t save Arthur, so I had to save you. Morgana was the darkness to my light, and you are my light. I couldn’t let her corrupt you. So I poured everything I had into reversing her damage. I poured everything I had into you.’

‘And nearly killed yourself in the process,’ said Gwaine sharply, fingers darting to the faint heartbeat beneath Merlin’s shirt. He slid from him, trying to conceal his trembling lower lip, and shook out his hair as he held out his arms. ‘Come here, you self-sacrificing fuck.’

Merlin fell into him like an acorn burying itself in the ground, rooting itself to the very earth it would one day become in the hopes of being able to slowly flourish. Savouring the cool touch, Gwaine wrapped his arms around the warlock in the attempt to transfer some of his body heat. Merlin was still breathing, which was always a good sign, and the heart thumping against him was stronger than it had been mere moments before. They hadn’t held each other like this since the morning that Merlin had been released from the cells after being cleared of poisoning Arthur. When Merlin touched him, it was like a butterfly was darting across Gwaine’s skin and seeking out the nectar hidden in his pores, and Gwaine closed his eyes.

‘Do you still have your magic?’

Merlin’s reply was thickened by the threat of tears. ‘I think so. It doesn’t feel as strong as it did, but I know a way to get it back if it is gone. You didn’t tell me that you’d been practising.’

Gwaine’s fingers were making their way along Merlin’s ribs. ‘There wasn’t really a chance to drop it into conversation,’ he softly said. ‘You were preoccupied with—You were preoccupied with other things.’

‘I’m sorry. For isolating myself. I just—I couldn’t afford to get distracted. I couldn’t allow everything that had been built to crumble so soon after.’ Merlin dropped his head into Gwaine’s shoulder. ‘It has anyway, though, and I’ve hurt you in the process. And I should have stayed by your side, when I healed you. But there were other voices and I was selfish and couldn’t handle the prospect of yet another failure, this time with an audience, and—’

‘Merlin, it’s alright. You’ve had so much pressure put on you for so long and, yes, you’ve hurt me, but you’re a selfless bastard who was doing it to protect me. I’d say that I expect you to make it up to me, but you’ve just saved my life, so I think that counteracts some of the distance that was between us. Not that I’ll say no to flowers, if that inclination possesses you,’ Gwaine added as an afterthought.

Pulling away, Merlin abandoned his fingers to Gwaine’s soft hair, gaze darting anywhere but Gwaine’s warm eyes. Then, he met them. ‘You know I love you, don’t you?’

Had Merlin asked that several months ago, Gwaine would have screamed that he show him, but Merlin had been willing to sacrifice himself for Gwaine. And Merlin being prepared to drain himself of his magic, the one thing that he had defined himself by – which was arguably not the best idea, but there would be time to show Merlin how much more he was worth – was more than enough proof that he loved Gwaine. ‘I know now. And I love you too.’

‘I won’t leave you again, I promise you.’

A lifetime of living as a pariah was screaming at Gwaine to not trust Merlin, to push him away to protect himself, but his heart was weeping and Merlin’s stare was so fierce for one who seemed so fragile. ‘I know you won’t.’ Gwaine pressed a kiss to Merlin’s forehead, lips lingering as he closed his eyes. ‘I know you won’t.’

#perhaps a little pleased with myself at actually managing to finish this one today even if there isn't much hug #i'm sorry...my mind just goes to places and my fingers follow #hope you like it and thanks again!#merlin #gwaine #merwaine #mergwaine #bbc merlin #hug prompts #lit writes

33 notes · View notes