Fall From Grace Part 1 for nyargles
Title: Fall From Grace
Author: tourdefierce
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Magic!sex, Merlin/OMCs, language, descriptions of starvation
Word Count:20K
Disclaimer: I own nothing and I make nothing.
Prompt: nyargles asked for: Canon era, the harvest that year hasn't done very well. Arthur's worried about his people, and Merlin's worried about Arthur. Insert Merlin!magic.
Notes: Thanks to the talented blameitonmerlin, who is a gloriously fabulous beta.
Merlin barely resisted the urge to press his naked body against the nearest stone wall. He imagined how cool it would be against his skin and the mere thought had him shivering in delight. Instead, he threw on his favorite tunic; made out of the softest material he owned and rubbed the worn material against his flushed skin. Because Arthur was off doing whatever it was he did on the trips with his Knights, Merlin put on the thinnest breeches he owned and with a brief thought, he shortened them with just a hint of magic, until they were just above his incredibly knobby knees. He was Gaius’ apprentice today, not some pig-headed, prat of a prince and so who cared if he was running around like a peasant?
After all, that was all he really was.
Well, not exactly all, Merlin thought as he opened the door that led to Gaius’ work room. The heat was blistering and it was only half nine. It was past the time of year for this kind of weather, but the days were still blistering like it was midsummer, not autumn. It drove Merlin mad and the heat made his skin crawl with pent up magical energy. He wasn't sure what it was about the heat that made him antsy to do something, anything, with his magic, but he knew enough to know that it was a prescription for trouble. Thankfully, Uther had knighted someone last night and Arthur had gone off for a few days to bond with his new charge. It lessened the chance of Merlin doing something spectacularly stupid and getting himself beheaded or burned at the stake, depending on the mood of the King.
"What a pleasing thought," Merlin said out loud as he looked around Gaius’ workshop. There didn't seem to be any experiments going or leech tanks to be cleaned, but Merlin spotted a scrap of paper with a list of herbs that need gathering. Most of them looked easy to find and so Merlin left his boots in his room, preferring to go barefoot; something Arthur forbade because he said it made Merlin look more common than he already appeared.
"Common for a bloody warlock," Merlin muttered as he grabbed his satchel, a small dagger and made to leave the coolness of the castle and into the open heat of Camelot.
Despite the heat, the castle bustled with life. Servants were moving around the castle with swiftness and Merlin smiled at those he recognized. He couldn't help but take the longer route around the castle so that he passed Morgana's chambers. The guilt burned deep inside of him as he passed Gwen, who was inside Morgana’s room. Lovely, compassionate Gwen who had been ordered to keep the unoccupied room fresh-as if by some chance Morgana would return. Gwen changed the linens with grace and Merlin paused to watch her through the open door. The windows were unlatched, the light of the morning spilling into the room and breathing life into the dark chambers.
Merlin tried not to think of Morgana's face, screwed up in disbelief as the hemlock burrowed into her blood and choked the life from her. He tried not to think of her face but it haunted him in the day as well as in the cloak of night. He hadn't gotten a full nights rest since she had been taken.
Before him, Gwen was placing fresh flowers onto the pillows of the bed, her lips kissing the empty space beside them. She paused and Merlin closed his eyes, praying that Morgause saved Morgana and was taking care of her. Even if it meant that Morgana was lost to Camelot forever, at least she would be alive. But it was hard to imagine, when and if Merlin got to see Morgana again, that she would understand the decision Merlin had had to make. Or if the phrase, 'for Camelot'-- for Arthur, had been tarnished by Uther forever.
Merlin turned away as soon as Gwen started moving again. There was no reason to linger on losses that he couldn't change in the day before him.
At least, that was what he kept telling himself between the hole Morgana left, the fear of what the Dragon had warned of her fate and his father's death. But it didn't stop their faces haunting his dreams. Nor Merlin's attempts to communicate with Morgana with hers. He hadn't succeeded yet and he wasn't not sure he wanted to; the fear of what he would see and what she would say was dizzying.
Merlin left the castle and willed the sun to clear his mind. The courtyard was bustling with towns people and guards alike. He nodded to the few who acknowledged his existence and made his way out of the courtyard's stone and into the dirt path of the town.
"Merlin!"
He was just at the towns edge and he turned around to find a very familiar face.
"Is that you, Princess?" Merlin called back to where the little girl was standing. She giggled and ran toward him to latch herself onto his legs.
"Merlin," she chastised in a way only a child could. "I'm not a princess!"
She stepped back and Merlin frowned playfully, crouching down until they were eye level.
"You're not? Are you a Queen, then?"
She shook her head, blond pigtails shimmering in the sunlight.
"Well, you are far too pretty to be anything but a Princess or a Queen," Merlin said before he leaned forward and pressed a kiss on the top of her head. She smiled, brighter than the blazing sun and Merlin couldn't help but feel his magic stir. What was it about blonds that made him want to show off?
"You know what you need?" The little girls large brown eyes were sparkling with curiosity and Merlin grinned, so glad to see her well as she had been Gaius' patient only a few weeks ago when they had first met. She had taken to him immediately, enchanted by his life in the castle and of Prince Arthur, who she wanted to marry and live happily ever after with.
Merlin knew the feeling.
"Close your eyes," he said.
A crease appeared on Charlotte's forehead and it reminded him so much of Arthur, that adorable and royal scowl that charmed all the girls into thinking he was brooding. The resemblance of Arthur's frown to Charlotte's was too cute to ignore and Merlin found himself shaking his head and laughing quietly.
"Close your eyes," Merlin said again with a little wiggle of his finger. The little girl pouted but closed her eyes with a scrunch of her nose. Merlin looked around quickly, finding himself and Charlotte still alone, before he stared determinedly at the ground. A thrum of magic flowed through him and suddenly a patch of tiny white flowers were at his feet, breaking through the dusty ground. He plucked them carefully from the mound of dust surrounding the broken dirt and weaved them into Charlotte's golden hair. He checked to make sure her eyes were still closed before he conjured up a small mirror.
"All right then, open up."
"Merlin, you didn't do anything!" Charlotte whined and glanced around her. Merlin looked coy.
"I didn't?" he said as he held up the mirror. She squealed with delight, her hands palming the flowers in her hair with pure glee. She leaned forward quickly to give Merlin a kiss on his cheek before she pranced off, without a single thought of thank you. He could hear her bragging to her friends just up the way and he couldn't help the silly grin that spreads across his face.
Princess indeed, Merlin thought as he pocketed the mirror and turned towards the forest.
<3<3<3
"Stop following me," Merlin hissed behind him as he trekked back through the way he came, his satchel full of herbs for Gaius even though it had been extremely hard to find many of them due to the drought. The forest path was well worn but the trees still shaded the path from the beating sun and for that, Merlin was grateful, considering it was blistering hot and he couldn't get the family of bunnies to stop following him. He tried not to look behind him, as if denying them his attention would hold any barring on whether or not they followed him back to the castle.
He had to admit that they were very cute. In a herd of bunnies sort of way. Their noses twitched whenever he stopped to peer at them from over his shoulder-their tiny, pink little noses. And okay, they were possibly the most adorable things Merlin had ever seen, especially the baby ones, but it didn't make it any less annoying that he had a warren of bunnies following after him. It wouldn't be annoying if it wasn't blazing hot out. Merlin wanted to go back inside the cool walls of the castle, but it might look a bit suspicious if he walked into the Camelot walls with a procession of woodland creatures behind him.
A squirrel looked at him curiously as he passed and Merlin glared.
"Don't you dare start," he said to the squirrel and then promptly chastised himself for talking to animals. Seriously, if he didn't get his head cut off for being a bloody warlock then surely being mad would have some consequence.
He reached the edge of the forest without anymore animals following him. As soon as he stepped onto the well worn road that lead into town he glanced back to see a row of bunnies looking particularly pathetic at the edge of the forest, like Merlin had threatened them with a pot of stew to boil them in. He wasn't Arthur, for goodness sakes!
"I don't know what you want from me," Merlin said.
The largest bunny's nose twitched.
"Stop it!"
The bunnies hopped toward him, tails and noses twitching in a formidable display of cuteness. Merlin could only sigh. He always had a soft spot for woodland creatures and this was probably pay back for all the times he had let Arthur hunt the small animals when he was bored or in a bad mood because Arthur found catharsis in killing things and Merlin found that getting in the way of that emotional outlet endangered his life. However, he did feel bad about letting Arthur hunt fluffy animals. Maybe this was his punishment.
Emrys.
The name was spoken softly and Merlin frantically looked around for any Druids or any other life but the bunnies. He found no one.
Emrys.
Merlin shifted back to the bunnies. The white one hopped forward and looked between Merlin and the grass, which was withered from the prolonged sun exposure and the lack of rain.
"I can't believe I'm actually talking to woodland creatures," Merlin hissed but the row of fluffy animals simply stayed cute.
Emrys.
"All right then! I'm listening."
The skin stung on the back of his neck as the sun beat down on him. If he didn't deal with the magical bunnies his neck going to be sore and grumpy for his plans tonight. It was his first night off in over a month. Real plans! With people who didn't want him to scrub their floors, haul buckets of water up castle stairs or clean their sheets. In fact, they expected him to do the exact opposite of cleaning their sheets.
Merlin blinked, his mind moving back to the present. What was he doing again?
Magical bunnies. Right.
Oh. Oh.
"You want me to do magic. Of course you do! Why is it always magic? It's like you have no idea that we live in Camelot." Merlin flung his hands up in the air. Little, annoying things like this kept happening to him ever since his battle with Nimueh and even more often since claiming his father's position as Dragonlord. Shrubbery kept petting him on his trips out hunting with Arthur, fruit trees would drop all their fruit when he came near, and most recently, little, cuddly animals following him around. Although, that one time with the bear hadn't been very cuddly. More terrifying. But much to Merlin's protest, nature kept speaking to him in his mind and expecting to do magic. It was all troubling, not to mention dangerous.
"Just so you know," Merlin said as he knelt down. "I'm risking my life and limb to do magic for you."
Emrys.
He put his hands on the ground and thought hard. Because the last time this happened he had muttered a spell and the bushs had continued to pet him. It was only when he threw up his hands and let magic course through him naturally, did nature seem satisfied. He had done the same thing almost a dozen times before. This time, he put his hands on the earth and breathed deep.
When he opened his eyes, there were flowers circling the area around him and a small mountain of carrots. It looked startlingly luscious and green compared to the rest of the forest floor around them.
"I hope you're happy now," Merlin cursed at the bunnies who did, in fact, look pleased. "Also, my name is Merlin! How many bloody times-" He was on the verge of shouting before he turned sharply from the munching bunnies toward Camelot.
Nice, stone-y Camelot. No living creatures to risk his life for or to make him think about what the drought might mean if the animals had started to look toward magic for help; or what it might mean for Camelot.
He whistled all the way back to the castle. Heat or not heat, he was going to enjoy his day.
<3<3<3
Merlin watched from a window as Arthur's Knights returned, leaving Arthur and the newly knighted man out for one more night to camp or bond or fight-Merlin wasn't entirely sure what Arthur did but he could guess it had to do with something stupidly sharp and shiny.
"I see he's returned," a soft and teasing voice said from behind him. Merlin didn't blush but it was a near thing.
"I'm completely ignorant of what you mean," he replied just as haughtily. Gwen was smirking when he turned around and if he wasn't destined to be an Epic Warlock, he would give into the temptation to pull on her loose curls.
"Don't be shy with me, Merlin. Don't think I haven't heard the rumors," she said as she bumped his arm with her shoulder. Merlin stared straight ahead at the group of knights laughing and pushing at each other in obvious camaraderie.
"You shouldn't believe rumors."
"Well," she said coyly, her smirk full of amusement. "According to the rumors, Sir Balen is going to enjoy himself tonight."
It only took a few seconds for them both to dissolve into laughter and Merlin soaked in the sound of Gwen's pure enjoyment. It had been a long time since she laughed so openly and he couldn't resist encouraging it, even if it was at his own humiliation.
The wound of Morgana's departure spoke volumes in the silence that often enveloped the whole castle at times.
<3<3<3
Sir Balen moaned prettily underneath him and Merlin enjoyed the slow pull of the body against his cock. The movement felt as if Balen was pulling the stress of the last few weeks out of him. However enjoyable their interaction was, Merlin kept his mind focused. He knew from experience that the longer this encounter continued, the larger his display of magic when he came. It was something he had learned the hard way, all of 14, gasping into Will's neck. That hadn't ended nearly as badly as it could have and with Will's help, Merlin learned to control most of his magic. But there were times when Merlin had been too overcome with pleasure to keep his mind and magic in control. It was a constant fear and Merlin was sure that if Gaius knew, he would lecture him that celibacy was a small price to pay if it meant keeping his head attached to his shoulders.
Gaius wasn't something Merlin wanted to be thinking about at the moment, though. However, the thought did temper the magic inside of him. Merlin shook his head and focused back onto the body spread out before him.
The broad shoulders beneath him glimmered in the candle light and Merlin had to forcibly remove the image of a certain other's shoulders from his mind and the effort had him changing his angle and pounding more steadily into the body kneeling before him, his bruising thrusts a punishment for both of them.
"Oh bloody hell, yes--" Sir Balen yelled and Merlin tried to ignore how loud the knight was or what sort of rumors would spread because of it. Instead, he enjoyed the heat and pull of his building climax, wrapping his warm hand around Balen's cock, letting the thrust of his hips pump his bedmate’s cock into the tight ring his fist made.
"Merlin, yes," Balen moaned when Merlin changed the angle of his hips once more, hitting the spot inside the knight straight on and sending him over the edge with a yell of rather obscene proportions, making Merlin wince just before his own orgasm followed with a soft moan and stuttering hips.
Merlin took the time to pull out carefully, his finger rubbing at the abused hole to keep Balen occupied while Merlin looked around the room for evidence of his magic; there was a small pile of flowers in the corner and a chair was overturned, but that was it.
He checked to make sure Balen's face was still buried in the pillow and then waved his hand, settling the chair and vanishing the flowers before he rolled off the knight and flopped down on the bed, which was not as comfortable as his own and that was disappointing. Last time Merlin allowed himself the pleasure of indulging in a knight, Sir Gaheris's bed was almost as comfortable as Arthur's, not that Merlin would know other than in his duties of linen changing.
Okay, he might have taken a nap once and smelled the pillows like a pathetically pining stable boy. But he changed the sheets after he was done and didn't steal a pillow covering, so really, he should be rewarded for his restraint.
He stared at the ceiling, his body trying to cool down in the unmoving air. Goodness, it was almost too hot for sex. And that was saying something considering Merlin spent most of his limited free time having it (which shook out to sex once every few weeks, if he was lucky)--heat be damned. However, the air circulation was poor in the knight's room and the stagnant air increased the temperature.
"That was a great," Balen murmured next to him and Merlin had the decency to hum back an affirmation, his mind already moving on to the tasks he still needed to do before Arthur returned. The fact of his distraction was disturbing enough and Merlin wasn't totally ignorant of his mind's reasoning for wandering but chose to ignore it for the sake of his sex life, which didn't get a lot of attention anyway, let alone if he started factoring in his guilt of substitution.
"You can stay if you like," the knight said, casually, beside him and Merlin turned to look at the sated and relaxed face of Balen, who licked his lips in a very deliberate fashion and succeeded in banishing the chores a little further from Merlin's mind.
"Yeah?" Merlin said, his fingers tracing the strong brow of Balen's face, the back of his hand brushing the dark mop of hair.
"Bloody hell yes. You're the best shag I've had in a while," he replied with a smile that was two parts coy and all wicked. "Rumors were quite true about you."
Merlin stilled. "What rumors?"
Balen laughed, his body bowing to twist and press his bare hips into Merlin's. Merlin was reminded of a large feline and couldn't help but shiver at the unconcealed lust on the knight's face. "You know, that you're... graced," Balen purred out the words and Merlin relaxed. He had heard other rumors, ones that weren't as flattering but had nothing to do with the size of his manhood and more to do with keeping his job by servicing the Prince, which besides being painfully untrue for Merlin, was also bad for Arthur.
"Graced," the knight continued, rubbing their half hard cocks together. It was too soon for both of them but it wasn't far off and Merlin was grateful for magical recovery. "And you're trained to use it."
Merlin smiled, feeling his own body stir, despite the heat. He rolled over, pinning the man beneath him with the force of his hips and his stirring erection. Balen just arched into the delicious pressure and Merlin bent to press their lips messily together, his tongue running teasingly along the open mouth of the knight. He was surprisingly pliant, yielding to the slightest pressure from Merlin's hands. It was refreshing not to have to fight with a bedmate over who was going to be bedding whom. Knights were, unsurprisingly, fussy about the arrangement but Merlin's prick size usually won the battle in the end. Thank goodness too, Merlin stuttered to think what his magic would do if he was the one being taken.
"Well, Sir Balen," Merlin said against his lips, pressing a palm to the broad muscular plane of the knight's chest. "Practice does make perfect."
Balen's reply was smothered by Merlin's tongue and the decision to stay for a little while longer was made.
<3<3<3
Merlin slipped out of Sir Balen's room before the break of dawn, the sky was just light as he made his way around the room to collect his clothes. The second time with Balen had been better and Merlin was almost proud of the way he control his magic through his climax, even with the knight being exceptionally loud beneath him. It just proved his theory; he could control his magic better if the time between tumbles was shortened. He also hadn't been lying when he said practice made perfect. Although, Merlin had honed his magic control during sex with Will, someone he trusted. Not that they got up to anything as advanced as what Merlin and his bedmates did since arriving in Camelot did. But without his time with Will, Merlin wouldn't have felt comfortable enough in his control and would have probably stayed (mostly) celibate. Without sex as a magical release, Merlin was sure that his magic would have already exploded during a time of high arousal, which was every bloody evening when he had to undress Arthur, and his head would have already graced the executioner's block.
His steps and the creaking door were both quieted by magic and Merlin didn't linger to look at the sleeping knight, afraid he'd be too tempted to stay. He had work to do and it had been put off long enough. Arthur would be back soon and the amount of chores he still had to finish was mounting. Not that he wasn't used to being yelled at by Arthur but, despite popular belief, he didn't enjoy being put in the stocks. Truly, the stocks were actually putting him off vegetables and Gaius was very insistent on vegetables. Almost as bad as his mum to be honest.
Most of the castle was still sleeping as Merlin made his way down to the kitchens. There was no way of knowing when Arthur would return and if he made his way back soon, it was unlikely that Merlin would get to eat. Best to get food out of the way. He'd learned this lesson before, after passing out on his fourth time up and down the castle stairs. That had been more than enough embarrassment, especially with Gaius reminding him that he's a bloody warlock and should know better than to neglect eating.
Merlin wasn't sure what the connection was between being a warlock and his eating habits but he was done trying to understand Gaius.
"Morning ladies," Merlin announced as he bounded into the kitchens. A few of the younger staff giggled as he winked, looking into their pots and making various faces at the contents. The older ladies attempted to scowl but Merlin knew that they liked him more than they were willing to admit. He was one of the only personal servants who helped out during feasts and dinner, beyond his duty to Arthur, but it was well worth the extra work because he'd seen what happened when someone pissed off the kitchen staff and it wasn't pleasant.
"Has the Prince returned?" An older cook, Alice, asked as Merlin peered into the hearth to see what type of bread was baking. Merlin looked up, his mouth watering at the prospect of a warm slice over cold meat and maybe a small slice of cheese. Alice looked at him expectantly.
"Not yet," Merlin said with a sigh. "Does that mean you're going to give me crusty bread more than a fortnight old and rotten fruit?"
The cook looked as if she was considering it but by the time Merlin's face had fallen at the prospect of crap food, Alice was already turning and making him up a sandwich. Merlin swung over and leaned his head onto her shoulder in mock innocence. She shrugged him off with sharp shoulders that smelled of rosemary.
"Get off me, Merlin. You smell like you've slept with the dogs," Alice chastised.
Merlin wiggled his eyebrows. "Don't talk about Sir Balen like that, my lady." He turned and winked at the rest of the kitchen, the younger ladies collapsing into fits of laughter. Alice simply rolled her eyes and stuffed the warm sandwich into one hand and an apple in the other. He kissed her cheek with just the right amount of sass to get walloped on the head, but the smile that hitched at the corner of her mouth was enough to make the effort worthwhile. He spun around and bowed to the group of giggling kitchen staff, stomach growling audibly.
"I bid you all ado, ladies," Merlin said with a wink before turning to the stairs and tripping over his own large feet, which he had never really grown into. The laughing of the kitchen ladies followed him all the way up the stairs.
<3<3<3
He took to Arthur's bedchamber's first because the rest of the manservants were in with the laundresses and they loathed Merlin. He wasn't sure why they hated him with so much passion but it was very clear after working at the castle for just three days that they hadn't wanted anything to do with Merlin if didn't involve making his already miserable existence more... miserable. Merlin had enough to deal with, you know, the whole being an incredibly powerful warlock under Uther's execution-happy nose and being at Arthur's every beck and bellow-not to mention making time to learn magic so that he could save Arthur's princely arse next time he leapt into danger without thinking. On top of all that, he was supposed to be helping out Gaius when he had extra time.
Add the amount of time Merlin had to squeeze in to get laid and he was spread thin. Because in all honesty, every one of Merlin's duties was essential, even getting a tumble in every once in a while. Not getting laid wasn't an option. Last time he went a decent amount of time without bedding someone, he almost set Arthur's bed curtains on fire. (And by almost, he means absolutely did and Gwen had to help him put them out before they consumed the whole bloody room. Terribly hard to explain, combusting curtains in the middle of the day without a candle in sight.)
Needless to say, he didn't have time to deal with bitchy manservants. Plus, the kitchen staff loved him and they were the only ones that really mattered. Poison and all that rot.
Arthur's rooms were hot and damp and overall, terribly unpleasant but he certainly didn't work for Arthur for his own health. Destiny, a voice countered in his mind, that sounded suspiciously like the Great Dragon's rumbling voice.
"Need help?"
Merlin turned from the window he was prying open with his already sweaty hands (it was seriously disgusting in the room, he was nearly as sweaty as he was last night). Gwen was looking beautiful as per usual, her hair swept back to avoid the heat but her curls falling loose to frame her face. She looked glowing in the morning sunlight and if Merlin was anyone else, he'd fall in love with her. Being who he was, tragically gay and completely awkward around women, he just thought her fit for queen-ship.
"You don't have to," Merlin said. "You can just sit there in Arthur's fancy Prince of Prats chair and watch me slave away."
Gwen laughed. "Oh and how you slave, Merlin."
Merlin turned around and flung open the window at the sly tone of Gwen's voice. "Oh, I see," he whined. "So you've just come 'round to mock me."
The sunlight poured into the room and did little to stifle the heat, but the air was moving around the room a bit and it didn't seem as if they were going to catch flame at any moment.
"I'm not here to mock you, Merlin."
Merlin stalked over and tugged sharply at the bed sheets, shooting a playful glare her way. Gwen just grinned in response and plopped into the nearest chair. Beautiful as she was, Merlin kind of felt like strangling her. Maybe if Merlin had that sort of grace, he'd catch more than just a weekly shag. Maybe then he'd snag himself a prince. As it was, Sir Balen was nice, but knights weren't long term material. If it wasn't for the fact that they had a habit of dying, it was that they were noble and couldn't stoop as low as a peasant to make any sort of commitment to.
"All right, I'm here to mock you!" Gwen said with glee, startling Merlin out of his thoughts.
Merlin scoffed and stripped the bed of the sheets. His shirt stuck to the small of his back and changing bed linens was kind of intoxicating because the sheets were just, you know, wafting Arthur's smell was everywhere; expensive soap, undefinable spices and something very male and... knightly. Whatever the smell, it made him want to crawl into the sheets and never come out again.
And, possibly, rub them all over his crotch.
"Merlin!"
Merlin spun around. Gwen had an elegant eyebrow arched.
"What?" Merlin said as he took the coverings off the pillows.
"I've been speaking to you for quiet a while, you've been just staring at the sheets like they were going to come alive," Gwen paused and then smiled like the wicked, wicked woman she was. "Or where you having a bit of fun remembering whose sheets you were taking a tumble in last night?"
Merlin squawked and clutched the sheets to his chest, as if they could preserve his dignity. Or his honor. If, you know, he had any. Gwen just started to laugh and despite everything, Merlin couldn't help but love the sound. His heart twanged, Morgana's face resurfacing quickly before he closed his eyes and willed it away-just for a few more seconds of Gwen's laughter.
"Oh, Merlin. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to embarrass you. Not that you should be embarrassed, I mean, I'm sure that you're--"
Merlin cut her off with his own giggling when he looked at Gwen; her face was flushed red in her own embarrassment and she was talking in circles again, just like the day they met at the stocks. A beautiful girl, with an endless capacity to love and an uncanny ability to talk herself into trouble.
"I deserve it," Merlin said as he balled up all the linens and put them in the basket. "No doubt that Sir Balen was so bloody loud that Uther probably got a royal notification of who I was shagging and just how big my manhood is."
"Merlin!"
Merlin flushed. "Don't tell me you haven't heard the rumors?" Gwen blushed so furiously that she looked as if she was going to cry.
"Of course I have! You know the kitchen staff coddles you and between them, cooing over the size of, well, you know and the manservants wanting to get you sacked by implying you've slept with the whole castle..." Gwen trailed off. Merlin shrugged because the rumors weren't wrong and leaned against the bedpost to pant from wrestling with the bed linens. They were almost on.
"How do any of you have TIME to gossip?" Merlin said and turned around to continue angrily tugging on the bedsheet to get the corner around Arthur's stupidly large bed.
"Well, you better be careful," Gwen said as she got up and picked up the wicker basket full of the old bed linens. "Because if Arthur ever found out--"
"Like Prince Arthur cares about who I bed," Merlin scoffed out with a puff of breath and a deep flush that was spreading across his chest. Goodness, he really needed to get this blushing under control. He wasn't even lying and he was flushing like he'd been caught with his breeches undone.
"Because if Prince Arthur ever found out," Gwen continued, "that you were despoiling his knights, one by one, then he might be upset."
"Despoiling! Please, as if Sir Balen was innocent," Merlin said and Gwen giggled from her leaning post on the frame of the door, basket in hand. Merlin grinned evilly and said,
"Even if he was, Prince Arthur has no right to interfere with my despoiling. Besides, I didn't hear Sir Balen mourning the loss of his innocence, in fact, very much the opposite."
"Merlin!" Gwen squealed in shock and Merlin almost fell to his knees in laughter. She threw a pillow covering at his head and took off down the hallway. He only realized she had taken the linens long after his laughter had faded down the castle walls.
<3<3<3
Merlin spent the rest of the morning cleaning. His good mood, the cheerful pull of Gwen's laughter and the steady throb of joy at being well shagged disappeared as if it had never been present. The heat felt unbearable, his own sweat dripped from his hair to sting his eyes and the mere thought of water, cool and serene, shook Merlin's bones with want. It was not an unfamiliar feeling.
The thing was, no matter how many knights he bedded or how many times he stroked himself to completion in the darkness of his chambers, or the once or twice he was willing to admit, in the darkness of Arthur's chambers, it never seemed enough to quench his undying thirst. It was frustrating, the longing he possessed for something more. Someone in particular. More than anything, it was a a permanent thing, like the magical hum in his body. Permanent and dangerous as destiny could be.
Merlin looked out at the blinding sky, the heat scorching his skin and so powerful that it felt like it came from the belly of the Great Dragon himself. With a drought like this, Merlin couldn't be so sure the Great Dragon wasn't involved.
If this was his destiny, constantly wanting what was not his to want, then he wasn't completely sure destiny was reason enough to stay in Camelot by Arthur’s side when it was so dangerous and stifling at times. Could it be adequate, knowing that Arthur would always need Merlin around to save his life but never trust him enough to keep his heart safe as well? Was it enough to know that Arthur loved only Gwen and that the royal laws could only shift so much? Was this destiny, slowly cooking in a bitter fire, sufficient to keep his magic satisfied as well as his mortal needs?
He closed his eyes, letting the sunlight beat down on his face in the open window. He didn't even know if he was mortal anymore. Having the power of life and death was confusing and Gaius wasn't sure that Merlin could be killed completely. Merlin was being forced to read up on reincarnation and it was morbid.
He didn't want to be immortal. Not if every life was going to feel like this-if he was going to want like this forever, just in different ways. Maybe if he could forget...
When he opened his eyes, the room was clean and the sky was stroked with looming thunderclouds. Magic was thrumming throughout the air, so loudly and thickly that Merlin couldn't seem to breathe from the force of it, the power practically overwhelming in its magnitude. Merlin didn't have time to gasp, as he realized the source of the magic was himself, so powerful and everywhere, before he was fleeing the room, the heavy chamber door slamming behind him with the first rumble of thunder in the distance.
<3<3<3
"Gaius," Merlin screeched as he burst into the worked room. "I didn't mean to, I swear to you Gaius. I swear!"
Merlin could feel his own fingers shaking, his whole body trembling with what he hoped was his own fear and not the work of his magic. Gaius looked up, eyes wide with concern and his hands already reaching for Merlin's shoulders-his capable, healing hands. The thought was calming despite his wired nerves.
"Merlin, whatever are you speaking of?"
Merlin sagged against Gaius' hands, his eyes darting frantically before meeting the older man's. "I closed my eyes and--" Merlin said, his own voice sounding pathetic and strung-out to ears. "I don't know what happened but--"
Merlin struggled for breath as thunder clapped, the stone beneath their feet trembling at the force, just before light lit up the room.
"Merlin, tell me what happened."
"I closed my eyes and when I opened them, I had made the storm outside," Merlin whispered. He could barely hear himself over the rolling thunder. The storm raged closer and it was moving swiftly, already Merlin could tell the distance between the thunder and lightening had lessened and the frequency was speeding up. He tried to slow the beat of his heart, as if there was some connection between the speed of the storm and the frantic beating of his chest.
"You didn't speak a spell?" Gaius was calm and Merlin forced himself to look into the steady gaze of his mentor.
"No. I did nothing, Gaius. I swear to you that I did nothing but I know I created it," Merlin said and when Gaius nodded, Merlin did not look away even as his voice shook. "What's happening to me?"
Gaius didn't answer, just moved his hands to Merlin's arms and guided him to the nearest chair. Merlin closed his eyes as another clap of thunder came, the light that followed was so blinding that it burned inside his eyelids. When he opened them, Gaius was holding a cup of water in offering. Merlin took it without comment.
"Merlin, you hold power over life and death. You are a Dragonlord. You are everything the Old Religion is," Gaius said in quiet tones. "I do not understand what is happening to you but it is clear that your magic is growing. Magic is a fickle woman, Merlin. After everything you've done, controlling the weather doesn't seem that great of a feat, does it?"
Despite the flashing of the lightning and the rolling of the thunder beneath their feet, Gaius seemed incredibly calm. Merlin breathed slowly, feeling magic pulse inside of him in time with the beat of his heart. It was amazing to him, that only hours earlier he was joking with Gwen about sex and his greatest worry was getting Arthur's chores done before he returned. Now he was conjuring storms and thinking about how his mere existing might bring the world to a crumbling end.
"I wish the Great Dragon was here," Merlin said. Gaius looked back at him, head tilted and eyes shining with affection.
"He did always seem to have a riddle for you too keep your mind off of whatever trouble you found yourself in," Gaius replied with laughter in his voice.
"He was rather annoying that way, wasn't he?" Merlin felt his own body relax and took a gulp of the water Gaius had handed him. "Prophetic bastard."
"Since he is not, I think it best if you rest," Gaius said with an arch of his eyebrow, presumably at Merlin's language. "And perhaps keep out of Uther's sight, in case you make it snow or something equally phenomenal."
Merlin nodded and got up, leaving Gaius at the table and going to his rooms.
"Merlin?"
He paused, his hand pressing against the door to his small room. He looked back at Gaius, who was still standing, his body twisted so that he could look at Merlin's retreating form.
"No matter what, do not think that you are anything but a breath-taking creature."
Merlin felt a faint smile bloom over his face before he nodded and retreated into his room.
Outside, it began to rain.
<3<3<3
The storm rolled on through the night. It was odd to Merlin that although he had inadvertently caused a colossal rain storm that was literally shaking the foundation of the castle, he didn't feel tired. Unlike all his other randomly spectacular feats of magic that left him exhausted and awkward in his own skin, this feat of magic left him as restless as the colts in the storm, whose agitated hooves could be heard over the cooing of the stable hands. It was a similar feeling when he went without a shag for a long time, his mind not knowing where to settle and his limbs humming with unconfined magic. All of it was strange, really. It had seemed as if there was lull for the last couple of weeks, with the King absent from court most days because he was hunting for sorcerers that might have taken Morgana and brought on the evil curse of the dragon.
Merlin was glad he was gone more often than not, only returning for a few days at a time before heading out again. Uther made him more restless and just hearing the man speak gave Merlin chills. The icy and manic way he spoke with Morgana gone crept into Merlin's mind and made him doubt being in Camelot, so close to the stake that had burned so many. Merlin wanted to care about the people that Uther was out hunting and probably wrongfully prosecuting, but he couldn't bring himself to think about it too much because it always brought his thoughts back to the purge and Merlin's father.
His dead father. Who, it turns out, was only absent from his life because Uther had chased him away. The hate that burned inside of Merlin was ugly and dangerous and he despised the way it crackled across his fingers in magic. The plague brought thoughts of 'what ifs': What if Balinore had stayed in Ealdor and both mother and father were executed, unborn Merlin included? What if Balinor had taken Hunith and Merlin with him, living dangerously on the run, but happily together, looking for a place that would have cultivated magic? What if Merlin had never come to Camelot? What if Arthur had...
He took a deep breath, lightning flashing outside his small window and playing shadows across his wall. The dragon had once said that Uther's love for Igraine was a gift that he had not known how to handle-that Uther had not known how to choose between love and kingship. The result had been more disastrous than anyone could have imagined, and the fact remained that the love of great men, of kings, was not to be played with lightly. It seemed strange to Merlin that the Great Dragon had possessed such wisdom and yet, he still had attacked Camelot and killed innocent people. Then again, what love did the Dragon have if it wasn't for the people who Uther had already cast aside? The tie between kin was stronger in the Old Religion. Merlin often felt it inside himself.
He idly wondered if the Dragon was watching him now, through his stupid mystical eye that was all-seeing and full of shite. The thought made him laugh, a little of the tension seeping out of him and drawing him out of his thoughts. The thunder rolled constantly underneath Merlin's feet. He was half-tempted to lay on the cool stone and feel the consequences of his magic in the storm that rumbled through the stone. He didn't know what it was about the storm that appeared to be detached from him; lost somewhere in the connection between him and the earth.
"Like everything else," Merlin muttered before he turned away from the window and sat on the bed. His magic still stirred inside of him and he felt it hum to warm the bedding and soften the mattress. He had been doing magic like that more often since he'd gotten back from the Isle. Gaius could only explain it as the earth's magic reaching back to connect with his presence and according to Gaius, earth magic did whatever it pleased. Merlin wasn't even sure he was doing magic or if the earth was doing it for him. But he was never fast enough to catch his reflection in the mirror every time it happened, the result being that he kept his head down much more often. Just in case someone walked by and his eyes were glowing. Glowing eyes tended to be fall under the ban of magic.
Arthur had not returned from his bonding with the new knight but Merlin wasn't worried. More often now, he felt Arthur's presence in his magic. If he concentrated hard and focused, he could hear the steady beat of Arthur's heart in his ears and if he listened long enough, his own heart would beat in time. Merlin tried not to do it often, not sure if Arthur felt something on the other end. But times like this, when Arthur was not at his side and no one had heard either way, Merlin risked opening up the connection.
Arthur's heart was beating slow and steady, as if he was sleeping and Merlin was quietly comforted that at least someone was enjoying the storm.
Merlin decided that he was going to ignore all the other thoughts of Arthur and storms; the thought of him soaked through his clothing and undressing in a make-shift tent shelter with that arse-licking new knight unsettled him in ways that he rather not examine. Merlin was also ignoring what a complete nancy it made him for listening to Arthur's heart beat and the longing it created inside of him.
The Great Dragon hadn't warned Merlin about confusing destiny with love but Merlin wasn't dense. He could read between the lines. But just being aware of the danger wasn't enough, Merlin had found. One must actively remind themselves and do things to distinguish the two. But Merlin wasn't sure whether it was worse to love someone and sacrifice them, love someone and lose them, or love someone and have them betray you. Either way, Merlin knew that loving someone and getting royally screwed in the end, be it the chopping block or twisted sneers or banishment, was probably similar to loving someone without it being returned. And cockin' up destiny, no doubt, while he was at it.
Merlin found it difficult to believe that legends would be told about him, about his magic, about Arthur and him and their great adventures. If people in the future realized he was just an adolescent, out-of-control magician, who had been tragically queer and pining for his once and future king, they wouldn’t waste their time writing about him.
As of now, loads of bards were lining up and around the castle gates to write that story down for all of Albion to hear. Right.
"Who could love a warlock anyway?" Merlin said into the darkness, before he laid down and forced himself to sleep.
In his dream, he repeated the question to the Great Dragon: "Certainly not a warlock with such large ears," the oaf had replied smugly. Before his faced shifted into Morgana's and then melted into Morgause's face, her eyes lined with pity.
<3<3<3
Dawn broke through his window and Merlin blinked the sleep out of his eyes, watching light flood his room, the sky still semi-dark outside. The clouds themselves had dissipated and the storm was gone, the only trace of the violent storm from the previous day were the fallen limbs from trees too weak for the strength of the winds and the way the ground seemed to breathe deeper without heat's tyranny. Merlin wondered if the weather would bring heat again today or if the storm had nudged Camelot into autumn. At least the drought could be staved off for a bit, not that one rain would heal the pains the crops were currently suffering, but it was enough to brighten Merlin's mood.
Merlin wasn't going to wish for anything too spectacular, just in case earth magic decided to talk to him or something and send the whole of Albion into another freak storm. Not that controlling the weather wasn't wonderful but since control wasn't Merlin's particular forte, he was just going to stick with whatever the weather chose to be that day.
"Merlin?" Gaius called from the main chambers, and Merlin moved toward the sound. Gaius was ladling porridge into two bowls by the table. Merlin's stomach rumbled in appreciation and anticipation.
Merlin rubbed sleep out of his eyes and slid onto the bench. "Mmm," he murmured when he found a spoon sliding into his hand. Gaius sat opposite him.
"Slept well, I trust?" Gaius regarded him with amused eyes. Merlin shrugged and shoved another spoonful of porridge into his mouth. "You didn't create any snow storms without your knowledge? No sudden hail in distant desert lands?"
Merlin glared and swallowed his mouthful. "I long for the days you were afraid to speak about my magic."
Gaius smirked into his breakfast. Merlin was grateful for the normality of their conversation, all things considered. Gaius had been wonderfully patient with all of Merlin's new... tricks. He had come an awful long way from shushing Merlin at every magical turn and glaring at him with that impressive eyebrow.
"No word from the Prince yet," Gaius said casually. Merlin shrugged, if Arthur didn't return sometime today then he'd start to worry. But the last time he checked on the Prince's heart it was still going strong and, Merlin imagined, rather prattishly too boot.
"It's a good thing too because I've yet to polish his daggers."
Gaius rose an eyebrow. "And that's important?"
"No," Merlin said. "But you'd think the way he carries on about them that he was about to go to war at any moment. Not that anyone actually needs twelve daggers on their bloody person but you can't tell him that."
Gaius laughed and Merlin smiled in reply. He knew that Gaius couldn't be as insubordinate as he was but Merlin knew that Gaius was probably a rebel in his day. Not that the old physician would ever admit it.
They finished breakfast in companionable silence before Merlin departed to get the rest of his chores for Arthur done, Gaius calling after him to come around if he got done early. Merlin yelled in agreement before he disappeared down the stairs, barely managing not to trip over his own damn feet.
The castle walls felt fresh around him as he ran his fingers along the cool stone. He wasn't completely ignorant. He had messed with nature, the natural course of the weather, but it would return as it was before-blinding, scorching heat laid ahead and Merlin wouldn't put it past the Old Religion to make it even more miserable. It had rained for two weeks straight after Merlin had accidentally killed Nimueh. It was not quite full light but he could feel the heat coming and the possibility of consequences for his magic lingered in the back of his mind. Could Camelot stand more heat? Merlin didn't think so, not when Arthur had been reluctant to leave the castle due to the harvest lingering on the horizon and summer’s heat refusing to release Camelot from its clutches.
Having powerful, other worldly powers wasn't as awesome as Merlin had thought it would be. In fact, that was probably why Nimueh was always hiding out in some pretty dodgy places. Lives of warlocks and witches were probably not very normal.
Merlin snorted and made his way to Arthur's chambers.
Merlin dreamed of normal. Normal was for the deepest of his desires and none of his waking hours. He was slowly coming to terms with these facts of his life, however, it didn't stop his dream-world from straying to the domestic. They were dreams after all and if he wanted to think about happily, ever after then he would. Merlin understood that happy endings weren't foretold in their destiny-in any destiny Arthur and him commanded. They would be great, if they didn't get each other killed first, but they would lead the life of legends and not fairytales. There was a difference and for this, Merlin was certain as he felt it in his bones. It was probably why the Great Dragon was always so full of riddles, it was hard to tell young people their destiny was intertwined as much together as it was in tragedy. The lives of legends didn't end in happily, ever after and it would do no good to harbor illusions to that effect. However, Merlin let himself wander down those paths every once in a while. Plus, just because they were supposed to be legends didn't mean Merlin couldn't get laid once in a while-destiny owed him as much if it was going to rob him of domestic bliss.
Merlin climbed another set of stairs and stopped at the landing, looking around at the empty corridors of the castle.
The castle wasn't yet awake. Merlin loved it when it was quiet, as if the whole of the castle was relaxed with sleep and Merlin particularly enjoyed it in the morning light. Nothing sinister was lurking in the corners and yet, it was quiet enough for Merlin to be able to think and use his magic without too much worrying of being discovered. As much as Gaius would protest, Merlin did, indeed, value the attachment of his head to the rest of his body.
Minor details.
As the castle slept, Merlin tidied Arthur's chambers and fluffed pillows. He completed all the ridiculous tasks that Merlin had never thought were necessary, let alone preformed, before coming to Camelot. He dusted cabinets and large, ornate bed frames, he scrubbed the floors and made five or ten trips down to the kitchens. Being a manservant was rather hard work. Merlin couldn't imagine handling his duties without magic and he felt terribly sorry for the servants around him who did their jobs without help; fetching water up from the belly of the castle or the wine stores or a startling number of things that involved carrying heavy objects up many sets of stairs. It was all very impressive.
"You're early to rise today," a teasing voice said from the open door as Merlin tried to wrestle with the bed curtains. Arthur hated to have his bed curtains drawn and yet, here Merlin was struggling with the blasted fabric anyway.
"I absolutely loathe bed curtains."
Gwen smiled and crossed the room to help him hang a particularly tricky corner of the curtain that never ceased to make the whole bed collapse when Merlin tried to use magic on it. Not for the first time, Merlin wondered if Uther had tricked the actual castle to believe magic was evil, although Gaius was more than eager to implicate Merlin's shabby housekeeping spells than the objects themselves.
"Any word from the Arthur yet?" Merlin asked casually. The storm was weighing heavily on his mind. If he couldn't get his magic under control then it wasn't safe to be around Arthur with the way he twisted Merlin's insides with so much emotion. It was unnatural, the effect the prince had on Merlin, not that Merlin hadn't thought about that. Merlin frowned. Where did destiny and reality cross, and did they intersect directly at his heart? It wouldn't surprise him. The dragon was cruel in his own right.
Kin, indeed.
"Don't worry, Merlin," Gwen answered and Merlin looked at her in confusion before he remembered that he had actually asked a question. "The scouts saw him ridding over the western ridge and seemed fine. Although, I suspect the hail storms from yesterday weren't pleasant to be out-of-doors in."
Merlin winced. "Great. More royally whinging."
"Oh shut it," Gwen admonished with a smile as she smoothed out the curtains. "You know that you and Morgana would be bored without the Prince around to annoy you all."
Silence echoed in the room and Gwen’s gaze darted away from his as the slip in her speech resonated between them.
Merlin's heart cracked, Morgana's laughter haunting him just as much as her tortured eyes. If only he had gone to her, disobeyed Gaius' advice and sought her out, gave her someone to confide in about her magic, then maybe things would have turned out differently. If only he had taken ownership of the magic in him, she wouldn't have turned to someone else. Merlin was pants at divination; the art of future telling was beyond his skill, but he had read about it and if the Dragon was right then Uther had created a malice inside of Morgana that would take hold for the rest of their years.
The silence between the two servants stretched, Gwen's face a picture of longing and sadness. It amazed Merlin how quickly the moods of the castle changed these days, almost as frequently as Merlin's magic. From playfulness, a brief reprieve from the grief of loosing a beloved lady, to the heavy weight of secrets and half-truths.
"Do you ever..." Gwen trailed off, her voice small and her eyes distant. Merlin moved closer to her, his hand curling around her bare shoulder.
"Do you ever wonder where she's gone?"
Merlin swallowed. "Gwen, she's safe. I know it," Merlin said and looked away from her eyes that had turned hopefully towards him. He longed to tell her all about Morgause, how they were half-sisters and that even if Morgause was an evil sorcerer, that she would keep Morgana was safe. He wanted nothing more than to reassure Gwen but the words stuck in his throat and shame burned hot up his neckerchief.
He was a coward.
"Trust me, Gwen." Merlin's voice shook but he didn't dare look the maidservant in the eye. She could squeeze anything out of him if she tried hard enough. "Trust me when I tell you that Morgana is not in any immediate danger."
"Merlin-"
Merlin was halfway down the corridor before Gwen could finished the choked and desperate gasp of his name.
Part Two
Author: tourdefierce
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Magic!sex, Merlin/OMCs, language, descriptions of starvation
Word Count:20K
Disclaimer: I own nothing and I make nothing.
Prompt: nyargles asked for: Canon era, the harvest that year hasn't done very well. Arthur's worried about his people, and Merlin's worried about Arthur. Insert Merlin!magic.
Notes: Thanks to the talented blameitonmerlin, who is a gloriously fabulous beta.
Merlin barely resisted the urge to press his naked body against the nearest stone wall. He imagined how cool it would be against his skin and the mere thought had him shivering in delight. Instead, he threw on his favorite tunic; made out of the softest material he owned and rubbed the worn material against his flushed skin. Because Arthur was off doing whatever it was he did on the trips with his Knights, Merlin put on the thinnest breeches he owned and with a brief thought, he shortened them with just a hint of magic, until they were just above his incredibly knobby knees. He was Gaius’ apprentice today, not some pig-headed, prat of a prince and so who cared if he was running around like a peasant?
After all, that was all he really was.
Well, not exactly all, Merlin thought as he opened the door that led to Gaius’ work room. The heat was blistering and it was only half nine. It was past the time of year for this kind of weather, but the days were still blistering like it was midsummer, not autumn. It drove Merlin mad and the heat made his skin crawl with pent up magical energy. He wasn't sure what it was about the heat that made him antsy to do something, anything, with his magic, but he knew enough to know that it was a prescription for trouble. Thankfully, Uther had knighted someone last night and Arthur had gone off for a few days to bond with his new charge. It lessened the chance of Merlin doing something spectacularly stupid and getting himself beheaded or burned at the stake, depending on the mood of the King.
"What a pleasing thought," Merlin said out loud as he looked around Gaius’ workshop. There didn't seem to be any experiments going or leech tanks to be cleaned, but Merlin spotted a scrap of paper with a list of herbs that need gathering. Most of them looked easy to find and so Merlin left his boots in his room, preferring to go barefoot; something Arthur forbade because he said it made Merlin look more common than he already appeared.
"Common for a bloody warlock," Merlin muttered as he grabbed his satchel, a small dagger and made to leave the coolness of the castle and into the open heat of Camelot.
Despite the heat, the castle bustled with life. Servants were moving around the castle with swiftness and Merlin smiled at those he recognized. He couldn't help but take the longer route around the castle so that he passed Morgana's chambers. The guilt burned deep inside of him as he passed Gwen, who was inside Morgana’s room. Lovely, compassionate Gwen who had been ordered to keep the unoccupied room fresh-as if by some chance Morgana would return. Gwen changed the linens with grace and Merlin paused to watch her through the open door. The windows were unlatched, the light of the morning spilling into the room and breathing life into the dark chambers.
Merlin tried not to think of Morgana's face, screwed up in disbelief as the hemlock burrowed into her blood and choked the life from her. He tried not to think of her face but it haunted him in the day as well as in the cloak of night. He hadn't gotten a full nights rest since she had been taken.
Before him, Gwen was placing fresh flowers onto the pillows of the bed, her lips kissing the empty space beside them. She paused and Merlin closed his eyes, praying that Morgause saved Morgana and was taking care of her. Even if it meant that Morgana was lost to Camelot forever, at least she would be alive. But it was hard to imagine, when and if Merlin got to see Morgana again, that she would understand the decision Merlin had had to make. Or if the phrase, 'for Camelot'-- for Arthur, had been tarnished by Uther forever.
Merlin turned away as soon as Gwen started moving again. There was no reason to linger on losses that he couldn't change in the day before him.
At least, that was what he kept telling himself between the hole Morgana left, the fear of what the Dragon had warned of her fate and his father's death. But it didn't stop their faces haunting his dreams. Nor Merlin's attempts to communicate with Morgana with hers. He hadn't succeeded yet and he wasn't not sure he wanted to; the fear of what he would see and what she would say was dizzying.
Merlin left the castle and willed the sun to clear his mind. The courtyard was bustling with towns people and guards alike. He nodded to the few who acknowledged his existence and made his way out of the courtyard's stone and into the dirt path of the town.
"Merlin!"
He was just at the towns edge and he turned around to find a very familiar face.
"Is that you, Princess?" Merlin called back to where the little girl was standing. She giggled and ran toward him to latch herself onto his legs.
"Merlin," she chastised in a way only a child could. "I'm not a princess!"
She stepped back and Merlin frowned playfully, crouching down until they were eye level.
"You're not? Are you a Queen, then?"
She shook her head, blond pigtails shimmering in the sunlight.
"Well, you are far too pretty to be anything but a Princess or a Queen," Merlin said before he leaned forward and pressed a kiss on the top of her head. She smiled, brighter than the blazing sun and Merlin couldn't help but feel his magic stir. What was it about blonds that made him want to show off?
"You know what you need?" The little girls large brown eyes were sparkling with curiosity and Merlin grinned, so glad to see her well as she had been Gaius' patient only a few weeks ago when they had first met. She had taken to him immediately, enchanted by his life in the castle and of Prince Arthur, who she wanted to marry and live happily ever after with.
Merlin knew the feeling.
"Close your eyes," he said.
A crease appeared on Charlotte's forehead and it reminded him so much of Arthur, that adorable and royal scowl that charmed all the girls into thinking he was brooding. The resemblance of Arthur's frown to Charlotte's was too cute to ignore and Merlin found himself shaking his head and laughing quietly.
"Close your eyes," Merlin said again with a little wiggle of his finger. The little girl pouted but closed her eyes with a scrunch of her nose. Merlin looked around quickly, finding himself and Charlotte still alone, before he stared determinedly at the ground. A thrum of magic flowed through him and suddenly a patch of tiny white flowers were at his feet, breaking through the dusty ground. He plucked them carefully from the mound of dust surrounding the broken dirt and weaved them into Charlotte's golden hair. He checked to make sure her eyes were still closed before he conjured up a small mirror.
"All right then, open up."
"Merlin, you didn't do anything!" Charlotte whined and glanced around her. Merlin looked coy.
"I didn't?" he said as he held up the mirror. She squealed with delight, her hands palming the flowers in her hair with pure glee. She leaned forward quickly to give Merlin a kiss on his cheek before she pranced off, without a single thought of thank you. He could hear her bragging to her friends just up the way and he couldn't help the silly grin that spreads across his face.
Princess indeed, Merlin thought as he pocketed the mirror and turned towards the forest.
<3<3<3
"Stop following me," Merlin hissed behind him as he trekked back through the way he came, his satchel full of herbs for Gaius even though it had been extremely hard to find many of them due to the drought. The forest path was well worn but the trees still shaded the path from the beating sun and for that, Merlin was grateful, considering it was blistering hot and he couldn't get the family of bunnies to stop following him. He tried not to look behind him, as if denying them his attention would hold any barring on whether or not they followed him back to the castle.
He had to admit that they were very cute. In a herd of bunnies sort of way. Their noses twitched whenever he stopped to peer at them from over his shoulder-their tiny, pink little noses. And okay, they were possibly the most adorable things Merlin had ever seen, especially the baby ones, but it didn't make it any less annoying that he had a warren of bunnies following after him. It wouldn't be annoying if it wasn't blazing hot out. Merlin wanted to go back inside the cool walls of the castle, but it might look a bit suspicious if he walked into the Camelot walls with a procession of woodland creatures behind him.
A squirrel looked at him curiously as he passed and Merlin glared.
"Don't you dare start," he said to the squirrel and then promptly chastised himself for talking to animals. Seriously, if he didn't get his head cut off for being a bloody warlock then surely being mad would have some consequence.
He reached the edge of the forest without anymore animals following him. As soon as he stepped onto the well worn road that lead into town he glanced back to see a row of bunnies looking particularly pathetic at the edge of the forest, like Merlin had threatened them with a pot of stew to boil them in. He wasn't Arthur, for goodness sakes!
"I don't know what you want from me," Merlin said.
The largest bunny's nose twitched.
"Stop it!"
The bunnies hopped toward him, tails and noses twitching in a formidable display of cuteness. Merlin could only sigh. He always had a soft spot for woodland creatures and this was probably pay back for all the times he had let Arthur hunt the small animals when he was bored or in a bad mood because Arthur found catharsis in killing things and Merlin found that getting in the way of that emotional outlet endangered his life. However, he did feel bad about letting Arthur hunt fluffy animals. Maybe this was his punishment.
Emrys.
The name was spoken softly and Merlin frantically looked around for any Druids or any other life but the bunnies. He found no one.
Emrys.
Merlin shifted back to the bunnies. The white one hopped forward and looked between Merlin and the grass, which was withered from the prolonged sun exposure and the lack of rain.
"I can't believe I'm actually talking to woodland creatures," Merlin hissed but the row of fluffy animals simply stayed cute.
Emrys.
"All right then! I'm listening."
The skin stung on the back of his neck as the sun beat down on him. If he didn't deal with the magical bunnies his neck going to be sore and grumpy for his plans tonight. It was his first night off in over a month. Real plans! With people who didn't want him to scrub their floors, haul buckets of water up castle stairs or clean their sheets. In fact, they expected him to do the exact opposite of cleaning their sheets.
Merlin blinked, his mind moving back to the present. What was he doing again?
Magical bunnies. Right.
Oh. Oh.
"You want me to do magic. Of course you do! Why is it always magic? It's like you have no idea that we live in Camelot." Merlin flung his hands up in the air. Little, annoying things like this kept happening to him ever since his battle with Nimueh and even more often since claiming his father's position as Dragonlord. Shrubbery kept petting him on his trips out hunting with Arthur, fruit trees would drop all their fruit when he came near, and most recently, little, cuddly animals following him around. Although, that one time with the bear hadn't been very cuddly. More terrifying. But much to Merlin's protest, nature kept speaking to him in his mind and expecting to do magic. It was all troubling, not to mention dangerous.
"Just so you know," Merlin said as he knelt down. "I'm risking my life and limb to do magic for you."
Emrys.
He put his hands on the ground and thought hard. Because the last time this happened he had muttered a spell and the bushs had continued to pet him. It was only when he threw up his hands and let magic course through him naturally, did nature seem satisfied. He had done the same thing almost a dozen times before. This time, he put his hands on the earth and breathed deep.
When he opened his eyes, there were flowers circling the area around him and a small mountain of carrots. It looked startlingly luscious and green compared to the rest of the forest floor around them.
"I hope you're happy now," Merlin cursed at the bunnies who did, in fact, look pleased. "Also, my name is Merlin! How many bloody times-" He was on the verge of shouting before he turned sharply from the munching bunnies toward Camelot.
Nice, stone-y Camelot. No living creatures to risk his life for or to make him think about what the drought might mean if the animals had started to look toward magic for help; or what it might mean for Camelot.
He whistled all the way back to the castle. Heat or not heat, he was going to enjoy his day.
<3<3<3
Merlin watched from a window as Arthur's Knights returned, leaving Arthur and the newly knighted man out for one more night to camp or bond or fight-Merlin wasn't entirely sure what Arthur did but he could guess it had to do with something stupidly sharp and shiny.
"I see he's returned," a soft and teasing voice said from behind him. Merlin didn't blush but it was a near thing.
"I'm completely ignorant of what you mean," he replied just as haughtily. Gwen was smirking when he turned around and if he wasn't destined to be an Epic Warlock, he would give into the temptation to pull on her loose curls.
"Don't be shy with me, Merlin. Don't think I haven't heard the rumors," she said as she bumped his arm with her shoulder. Merlin stared straight ahead at the group of knights laughing and pushing at each other in obvious camaraderie.
"You shouldn't believe rumors."
"Well," she said coyly, her smirk full of amusement. "According to the rumors, Sir Balen is going to enjoy himself tonight."
It only took a few seconds for them both to dissolve into laughter and Merlin soaked in the sound of Gwen's pure enjoyment. It had been a long time since she laughed so openly and he couldn't resist encouraging it, even if it was at his own humiliation.
The wound of Morgana's departure spoke volumes in the silence that often enveloped the whole castle at times.
<3<3<3
Sir Balen moaned prettily underneath him and Merlin enjoyed the slow pull of the body against his cock. The movement felt as if Balen was pulling the stress of the last few weeks out of him. However enjoyable their interaction was, Merlin kept his mind focused. He knew from experience that the longer this encounter continued, the larger his display of magic when he came. It was something he had learned the hard way, all of 14, gasping into Will's neck. That hadn't ended nearly as badly as it could have and with Will's help, Merlin learned to control most of his magic. But there were times when Merlin had been too overcome with pleasure to keep his mind and magic in control. It was a constant fear and Merlin was sure that if Gaius knew, he would lecture him that celibacy was a small price to pay if it meant keeping his head attached to his shoulders.
Gaius wasn't something Merlin wanted to be thinking about at the moment, though. However, the thought did temper the magic inside of him. Merlin shook his head and focused back onto the body spread out before him.
The broad shoulders beneath him glimmered in the candle light and Merlin had to forcibly remove the image of a certain other's shoulders from his mind and the effort had him changing his angle and pounding more steadily into the body kneeling before him, his bruising thrusts a punishment for both of them.
"Oh bloody hell, yes--" Sir Balen yelled and Merlin tried to ignore how loud the knight was or what sort of rumors would spread because of it. Instead, he enjoyed the heat and pull of his building climax, wrapping his warm hand around Balen's cock, letting the thrust of his hips pump his bedmate’s cock into the tight ring his fist made.
"Merlin, yes," Balen moaned when Merlin changed the angle of his hips once more, hitting the spot inside the knight straight on and sending him over the edge with a yell of rather obscene proportions, making Merlin wince just before his own orgasm followed with a soft moan and stuttering hips.
Merlin took the time to pull out carefully, his finger rubbing at the abused hole to keep Balen occupied while Merlin looked around the room for evidence of his magic; there was a small pile of flowers in the corner and a chair was overturned, but that was it.
He checked to make sure Balen's face was still buried in the pillow and then waved his hand, settling the chair and vanishing the flowers before he rolled off the knight and flopped down on the bed, which was not as comfortable as his own and that was disappointing. Last time Merlin allowed himself the pleasure of indulging in a knight, Sir Gaheris's bed was almost as comfortable as Arthur's, not that Merlin would know other than in his duties of linen changing.
Okay, he might have taken a nap once and smelled the pillows like a pathetically pining stable boy. But he changed the sheets after he was done and didn't steal a pillow covering, so really, he should be rewarded for his restraint.
He stared at the ceiling, his body trying to cool down in the unmoving air. Goodness, it was almost too hot for sex. And that was saying something considering Merlin spent most of his limited free time having it (which shook out to sex once every few weeks, if he was lucky)--heat be damned. However, the air circulation was poor in the knight's room and the stagnant air increased the temperature.
"That was a great," Balen murmured next to him and Merlin had the decency to hum back an affirmation, his mind already moving on to the tasks he still needed to do before Arthur returned. The fact of his distraction was disturbing enough and Merlin wasn't totally ignorant of his mind's reasoning for wandering but chose to ignore it for the sake of his sex life, which didn't get a lot of attention anyway, let alone if he started factoring in his guilt of substitution.
"You can stay if you like," the knight said, casually, beside him and Merlin turned to look at the sated and relaxed face of Balen, who licked his lips in a very deliberate fashion and succeeded in banishing the chores a little further from Merlin's mind.
"Yeah?" Merlin said, his fingers tracing the strong brow of Balen's face, the back of his hand brushing the dark mop of hair.
"Bloody hell yes. You're the best shag I've had in a while," he replied with a smile that was two parts coy and all wicked. "Rumors were quite true about you."
Merlin stilled. "What rumors?"
Balen laughed, his body bowing to twist and press his bare hips into Merlin's. Merlin was reminded of a large feline and couldn't help but shiver at the unconcealed lust on the knight's face. "You know, that you're... graced," Balen purred out the words and Merlin relaxed. He had heard other rumors, ones that weren't as flattering but had nothing to do with the size of his manhood and more to do with keeping his job by servicing the Prince, which besides being painfully untrue for Merlin, was also bad for Arthur.
"Graced," the knight continued, rubbing their half hard cocks together. It was too soon for both of them but it wasn't far off and Merlin was grateful for magical recovery. "And you're trained to use it."
Merlin smiled, feeling his own body stir, despite the heat. He rolled over, pinning the man beneath him with the force of his hips and his stirring erection. Balen just arched into the delicious pressure and Merlin bent to press their lips messily together, his tongue running teasingly along the open mouth of the knight. He was surprisingly pliant, yielding to the slightest pressure from Merlin's hands. It was refreshing not to have to fight with a bedmate over who was going to be bedding whom. Knights were, unsurprisingly, fussy about the arrangement but Merlin's prick size usually won the battle in the end. Thank goodness too, Merlin stuttered to think what his magic would do if he was the one being taken.
"Well, Sir Balen," Merlin said against his lips, pressing a palm to the broad muscular plane of the knight's chest. "Practice does make perfect."
Balen's reply was smothered by Merlin's tongue and the decision to stay for a little while longer was made.
<3<3<3
Merlin slipped out of Sir Balen's room before the break of dawn, the sky was just light as he made his way around the room to collect his clothes. The second time with Balen had been better and Merlin was almost proud of the way he control his magic through his climax, even with the knight being exceptionally loud beneath him. It just proved his theory; he could control his magic better if the time between tumbles was shortened. He also hadn't been lying when he said practice made perfect. Although, Merlin had honed his magic control during sex with Will, someone he trusted. Not that they got up to anything as advanced as what Merlin and his bedmates did since arriving in Camelot did. But without his time with Will, Merlin wouldn't have felt comfortable enough in his control and would have probably stayed (mostly) celibate. Without sex as a magical release, Merlin was sure that his magic would have already exploded during a time of high arousal, which was every bloody evening when he had to undress Arthur, and his head would have already graced the executioner's block.
His steps and the creaking door were both quieted by magic and Merlin didn't linger to look at the sleeping knight, afraid he'd be too tempted to stay. He had work to do and it had been put off long enough. Arthur would be back soon and the amount of chores he still had to finish was mounting. Not that he wasn't used to being yelled at by Arthur but, despite popular belief, he didn't enjoy being put in the stocks. Truly, the stocks were actually putting him off vegetables and Gaius was very insistent on vegetables. Almost as bad as his mum to be honest.
Most of the castle was still sleeping as Merlin made his way down to the kitchens. There was no way of knowing when Arthur would return and if he made his way back soon, it was unlikely that Merlin would get to eat. Best to get food out of the way. He'd learned this lesson before, after passing out on his fourth time up and down the castle stairs. That had been more than enough embarrassment, especially with Gaius reminding him that he's a bloody warlock and should know better than to neglect eating.
Merlin wasn't sure what the connection was between being a warlock and his eating habits but he was done trying to understand Gaius.
"Morning ladies," Merlin announced as he bounded into the kitchens. A few of the younger staff giggled as he winked, looking into their pots and making various faces at the contents. The older ladies attempted to scowl but Merlin knew that they liked him more than they were willing to admit. He was one of the only personal servants who helped out during feasts and dinner, beyond his duty to Arthur, but it was well worth the extra work because he'd seen what happened when someone pissed off the kitchen staff and it wasn't pleasant.
"Has the Prince returned?" An older cook, Alice, asked as Merlin peered into the hearth to see what type of bread was baking. Merlin looked up, his mouth watering at the prospect of a warm slice over cold meat and maybe a small slice of cheese. Alice looked at him expectantly.
"Not yet," Merlin said with a sigh. "Does that mean you're going to give me crusty bread more than a fortnight old and rotten fruit?"
The cook looked as if she was considering it but by the time Merlin's face had fallen at the prospect of crap food, Alice was already turning and making him up a sandwich. Merlin swung over and leaned his head onto her shoulder in mock innocence. She shrugged him off with sharp shoulders that smelled of rosemary.
"Get off me, Merlin. You smell like you've slept with the dogs," Alice chastised.
Merlin wiggled his eyebrows. "Don't talk about Sir Balen like that, my lady." He turned and winked at the rest of the kitchen, the younger ladies collapsing into fits of laughter. Alice simply rolled her eyes and stuffed the warm sandwich into one hand and an apple in the other. He kissed her cheek with just the right amount of sass to get walloped on the head, but the smile that hitched at the corner of her mouth was enough to make the effort worthwhile. He spun around and bowed to the group of giggling kitchen staff, stomach growling audibly.
"I bid you all ado, ladies," Merlin said with a wink before turning to the stairs and tripping over his own large feet, which he had never really grown into. The laughing of the kitchen ladies followed him all the way up the stairs.
<3<3<3
He took to Arthur's bedchamber's first because the rest of the manservants were in with the laundresses and they loathed Merlin. He wasn't sure why they hated him with so much passion but it was very clear after working at the castle for just three days that they hadn't wanted anything to do with Merlin if didn't involve making his already miserable existence more... miserable. Merlin had enough to deal with, you know, the whole being an incredibly powerful warlock under Uther's execution-happy nose and being at Arthur's every beck and bellow-not to mention making time to learn magic so that he could save Arthur's princely arse next time he leapt into danger without thinking. On top of all that, he was supposed to be helping out Gaius when he had extra time.
Add the amount of time Merlin had to squeeze in to get laid and he was spread thin. Because in all honesty, every one of Merlin's duties was essential, even getting a tumble in every once in a while. Not getting laid wasn't an option. Last time he went a decent amount of time without bedding someone, he almost set Arthur's bed curtains on fire. (And by almost, he means absolutely did and Gwen had to help him put them out before they consumed the whole bloody room. Terribly hard to explain, combusting curtains in the middle of the day without a candle in sight.)
Needless to say, he didn't have time to deal with bitchy manservants. Plus, the kitchen staff loved him and they were the only ones that really mattered. Poison and all that rot.
Arthur's rooms were hot and damp and overall, terribly unpleasant but he certainly didn't work for Arthur for his own health. Destiny, a voice countered in his mind, that sounded suspiciously like the Great Dragon's rumbling voice.
"Need help?"
Merlin turned from the window he was prying open with his already sweaty hands (it was seriously disgusting in the room, he was nearly as sweaty as he was last night). Gwen was looking beautiful as per usual, her hair swept back to avoid the heat but her curls falling loose to frame her face. She looked glowing in the morning sunlight and if Merlin was anyone else, he'd fall in love with her. Being who he was, tragically gay and completely awkward around women, he just thought her fit for queen-ship.
"You don't have to," Merlin said. "You can just sit there in Arthur's fancy Prince of Prats chair and watch me slave away."
Gwen laughed. "Oh and how you slave, Merlin."
Merlin turned around and flung open the window at the sly tone of Gwen's voice. "Oh, I see," he whined. "So you've just come 'round to mock me."
The sunlight poured into the room and did little to stifle the heat, but the air was moving around the room a bit and it didn't seem as if they were going to catch flame at any moment.
"I'm not here to mock you, Merlin."
Merlin stalked over and tugged sharply at the bed sheets, shooting a playful glare her way. Gwen just grinned in response and plopped into the nearest chair. Beautiful as she was, Merlin kind of felt like strangling her. Maybe if Merlin had that sort of grace, he'd catch more than just a weekly shag. Maybe then he'd snag himself a prince. As it was, Sir Balen was nice, but knights weren't long term material. If it wasn't for the fact that they had a habit of dying, it was that they were noble and couldn't stoop as low as a peasant to make any sort of commitment to.
"All right, I'm here to mock you!" Gwen said with glee, startling Merlin out of his thoughts.
Merlin scoffed and stripped the bed of the sheets. His shirt stuck to the small of his back and changing bed linens was kind of intoxicating because the sheets were just, you know, wafting Arthur's smell was everywhere; expensive soap, undefinable spices and something very male and... knightly. Whatever the smell, it made him want to crawl into the sheets and never come out again.
And, possibly, rub them all over his crotch.
"Merlin!"
Merlin spun around. Gwen had an elegant eyebrow arched.
"What?" Merlin said as he took the coverings off the pillows.
"I've been speaking to you for quiet a while, you've been just staring at the sheets like they were going to come alive," Gwen paused and then smiled like the wicked, wicked woman she was. "Or where you having a bit of fun remembering whose sheets you were taking a tumble in last night?"
Merlin squawked and clutched the sheets to his chest, as if they could preserve his dignity. Or his honor. If, you know, he had any. Gwen just started to laugh and despite everything, Merlin couldn't help but love the sound. His heart twanged, Morgana's face resurfacing quickly before he closed his eyes and willed it away-just for a few more seconds of Gwen's laughter.
"Oh, Merlin. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to embarrass you. Not that you should be embarrassed, I mean, I'm sure that you're--"
Merlin cut her off with his own giggling when he looked at Gwen; her face was flushed red in her own embarrassment and she was talking in circles again, just like the day they met at the stocks. A beautiful girl, with an endless capacity to love and an uncanny ability to talk herself into trouble.
"I deserve it," Merlin said as he balled up all the linens and put them in the basket. "No doubt that Sir Balen was so bloody loud that Uther probably got a royal notification of who I was shagging and just how big my manhood is."
"Merlin!"
Merlin flushed. "Don't tell me you haven't heard the rumors?" Gwen blushed so furiously that she looked as if she was going to cry.
"Of course I have! You know the kitchen staff coddles you and between them, cooing over the size of, well, you know and the manservants wanting to get you sacked by implying you've slept with the whole castle..." Gwen trailed off. Merlin shrugged because the rumors weren't wrong and leaned against the bedpost to pant from wrestling with the bed linens. They were almost on.
"How do any of you have TIME to gossip?" Merlin said and turned around to continue angrily tugging on the bedsheet to get the corner around Arthur's stupidly large bed.
"Well, you better be careful," Gwen said as she got up and picked up the wicker basket full of the old bed linens. "Because if Arthur ever found out--"
"Like Prince Arthur cares about who I bed," Merlin scoffed out with a puff of breath and a deep flush that was spreading across his chest. Goodness, he really needed to get this blushing under control. He wasn't even lying and he was flushing like he'd been caught with his breeches undone.
"Because if Prince Arthur ever found out," Gwen continued, "that you were despoiling his knights, one by one, then he might be upset."
"Despoiling! Please, as if Sir Balen was innocent," Merlin said and Gwen giggled from her leaning post on the frame of the door, basket in hand. Merlin grinned evilly and said,
"Even if he was, Prince Arthur has no right to interfere with my despoiling. Besides, I didn't hear Sir Balen mourning the loss of his innocence, in fact, very much the opposite."
"Merlin!" Gwen squealed in shock and Merlin almost fell to his knees in laughter. She threw a pillow covering at his head and took off down the hallway. He only realized she had taken the linens long after his laughter had faded down the castle walls.
<3<3<3
Merlin spent the rest of the morning cleaning. His good mood, the cheerful pull of Gwen's laughter and the steady throb of joy at being well shagged disappeared as if it had never been present. The heat felt unbearable, his own sweat dripped from his hair to sting his eyes and the mere thought of water, cool and serene, shook Merlin's bones with want. It was not an unfamiliar feeling.
The thing was, no matter how many knights he bedded or how many times he stroked himself to completion in the darkness of his chambers, or the once or twice he was willing to admit, in the darkness of Arthur's chambers, it never seemed enough to quench his undying thirst. It was frustrating, the longing he possessed for something more. Someone in particular. More than anything, it was a a permanent thing, like the magical hum in his body. Permanent and dangerous as destiny could be.
Merlin looked out at the blinding sky, the heat scorching his skin and so powerful that it felt like it came from the belly of the Great Dragon himself. With a drought like this, Merlin couldn't be so sure the Great Dragon wasn't involved.
If this was his destiny, constantly wanting what was not his to want, then he wasn't completely sure destiny was reason enough to stay in Camelot by Arthur’s side when it was so dangerous and stifling at times. Could it be adequate, knowing that Arthur would always need Merlin around to save his life but never trust him enough to keep his heart safe as well? Was it enough to know that Arthur loved only Gwen and that the royal laws could only shift so much? Was this destiny, slowly cooking in a bitter fire, sufficient to keep his magic satisfied as well as his mortal needs?
He closed his eyes, letting the sunlight beat down on his face in the open window. He didn't even know if he was mortal anymore. Having the power of life and death was confusing and Gaius wasn't sure that Merlin could be killed completely. Merlin was being forced to read up on reincarnation and it was morbid.
He didn't want to be immortal. Not if every life was going to feel like this-if he was going to want like this forever, just in different ways. Maybe if he could forget...
When he opened his eyes, the room was clean and the sky was stroked with looming thunderclouds. Magic was thrumming throughout the air, so loudly and thickly that Merlin couldn't seem to breathe from the force of it, the power practically overwhelming in its magnitude. Merlin didn't have time to gasp, as he realized the source of the magic was himself, so powerful and everywhere, before he was fleeing the room, the heavy chamber door slamming behind him with the first rumble of thunder in the distance.
<3<3<3
"Gaius," Merlin screeched as he burst into the worked room. "I didn't mean to, I swear to you Gaius. I swear!"
Merlin could feel his own fingers shaking, his whole body trembling with what he hoped was his own fear and not the work of his magic. Gaius looked up, eyes wide with concern and his hands already reaching for Merlin's shoulders-his capable, healing hands. The thought was calming despite his wired nerves.
"Merlin, whatever are you speaking of?"
Merlin sagged against Gaius' hands, his eyes darting frantically before meeting the older man's. "I closed my eyes and--" Merlin said, his own voice sounding pathetic and strung-out to ears. "I don't know what happened but--"
Merlin struggled for breath as thunder clapped, the stone beneath their feet trembling at the force, just before light lit up the room.
"Merlin, tell me what happened."
"I closed my eyes and when I opened them, I had made the storm outside," Merlin whispered. He could barely hear himself over the rolling thunder. The storm raged closer and it was moving swiftly, already Merlin could tell the distance between the thunder and lightening had lessened and the frequency was speeding up. He tried to slow the beat of his heart, as if there was some connection between the speed of the storm and the frantic beating of his chest.
"You didn't speak a spell?" Gaius was calm and Merlin forced himself to look into the steady gaze of his mentor.
"No. I did nothing, Gaius. I swear to you that I did nothing but I know I created it," Merlin said and when Gaius nodded, Merlin did not look away even as his voice shook. "What's happening to me?"
Gaius didn't answer, just moved his hands to Merlin's arms and guided him to the nearest chair. Merlin closed his eyes as another clap of thunder came, the light that followed was so blinding that it burned inside his eyelids. When he opened them, Gaius was holding a cup of water in offering. Merlin took it without comment.
"Merlin, you hold power over life and death. You are a Dragonlord. You are everything the Old Religion is," Gaius said in quiet tones. "I do not understand what is happening to you but it is clear that your magic is growing. Magic is a fickle woman, Merlin. After everything you've done, controlling the weather doesn't seem that great of a feat, does it?"
Despite the flashing of the lightning and the rolling of the thunder beneath their feet, Gaius seemed incredibly calm. Merlin breathed slowly, feeling magic pulse inside of him in time with the beat of his heart. It was amazing to him, that only hours earlier he was joking with Gwen about sex and his greatest worry was getting Arthur's chores done before he returned. Now he was conjuring storms and thinking about how his mere existing might bring the world to a crumbling end.
"I wish the Great Dragon was here," Merlin said. Gaius looked back at him, head tilted and eyes shining with affection.
"He did always seem to have a riddle for you too keep your mind off of whatever trouble you found yourself in," Gaius replied with laughter in his voice.
"He was rather annoying that way, wasn't he?" Merlin felt his own body relax and took a gulp of the water Gaius had handed him. "Prophetic bastard."
"Since he is not, I think it best if you rest," Gaius said with an arch of his eyebrow, presumably at Merlin's language. "And perhaps keep out of Uther's sight, in case you make it snow or something equally phenomenal."
Merlin nodded and got up, leaving Gaius at the table and going to his rooms.
"Merlin?"
He paused, his hand pressing against the door to his small room. He looked back at Gaius, who was still standing, his body twisted so that he could look at Merlin's retreating form.
"No matter what, do not think that you are anything but a breath-taking creature."
Merlin felt a faint smile bloom over his face before he nodded and retreated into his room.
Outside, it began to rain.
<3<3<3
The storm rolled on through the night. It was odd to Merlin that although he had inadvertently caused a colossal rain storm that was literally shaking the foundation of the castle, he didn't feel tired. Unlike all his other randomly spectacular feats of magic that left him exhausted and awkward in his own skin, this feat of magic left him as restless as the colts in the storm, whose agitated hooves could be heard over the cooing of the stable hands. It was a similar feeling when he went without a shag for a long time, his mind not knowing where to settle and his limbs humming with unconfined magic. All of it was strange, really. It had seemed as if there was lull for the last couple of weeks, with the King absent from court most days because he was hunting for sorcerers that might have taken Morgana and brought on the evil curse of the dragon.
Merlin was glad he was gone more often than not, only returning for a few days at a time before heading out again. Uther made him more restless and just hearing the man speak gave Merlin chills. The icy and manic way he spoke with Morgana gone crept into Merlin's mind and made him doubt being in Camelot, so close to the stake that had burned so many. Merlin wanted to care about the people that Uther was out hunting and probably wrongfully prosecuting, but he couldn't bring himself to think about it too much because it always brought his thoughts back to the purge and Merlin's father.
His dead father. Who, it turns out, was only absent from his life because Uther had chased him away. The hate that burned inside of Merlin was ugly and dangerous and he despised the way it crackled across his fingers in magic. The plague brought thoughts of 'what ifs': What if Balinore had stayed in Ealdor and both mother and father were executed, unborn Merlin included? What if Balinor had taken Hunith and Merlin with him, living dangerously on the run, but happily together, looking for a place that would have cultivated magic? What if Merlin had never come to Camelot? What if Arthur had...
He took a deep breath, lightning flashing outside his small window and playing shadows across his wall. The dragon had once said that Uther's love for Igraine was a gift that he had not known how to handle-that Uther had not known how to choose between love and kingship. The result had been more disastrous than anyone could have imagined, and the fact remained that the love of great men, of kings, was not to be played with lightly. It seemed strange to Merlin that the Great Dragon had possessed such wisdom and yet, he still had attacked Camelot and killed innocent people. Then again, what love did the Dragon have if it wasn't for the people who Uther had already cast aside? The tie between kin was stronger in the Old Religion. Merlin often felt it inside himself.
He idly wondered if the Dragon was watching him now, through his stupid mystical eye that was all-seeing and full of shite. The thought made him laugh, a little of the tension seeping out of him and drawing him out of his thoughts. The thunder rolled constantly underneath Merlin's feet. He was half-tempted to lay on the cool stone and feel the consequences of his magic in the storm that rumbled through the stone. He didn't know what it was about the storm that appeared to be detached from him; lost somewhere in the connection between him and the earth.
"Like everything else," Merlin muttered before he turned away from the window and sat on the bed. His magic still stirred inside of him and he felt it hum to warm the bedding and soften the mattress. He had been doing magic like that more often since he'd gotten back from the Isle. Gaius could only explain it as the earth's magic reaching back to connect with his presence and according to Gaius, earth magic did whatever it pleased. Merlin wasn't even sure he was doing magic or if the earth was doing it for him. But he was never fast enough to catch his reflection in the mirror every time it happened, the result being that he kept his head down much more often. Just in case someone walked by and his eyes were glowing. Glowing eyes tended to be fall under the ban of magic.
Arthur had not returned from his bonding with the new knight but Merlin wasn't worried. More often now, he felt Arthur's presence in his magic. If he concentrated hard and focused, he could hear the steady beat of Arthur's heart in his ears and if he listened long enough, his own heart would beat in time. Merlin tried not to do it often, not sure if Arthur felt something on the other end. But times like this, when Arthur was not at his side and no one had heard either way, Merlin risked opening up the connection.
Arthur's heart was beating slow and steady, as if he was sleeping and Merlin was quietly comforted that at least someone was enjoying the storm.
Merlin decided that he was going to ignore all the other thoughts of Arthur and storms; the thought of him soaked through his clothing and undressing in a make-shift tent shelter with that arse-licking new knight unsettled him in ways that he rather not examine. Merlin was also ignoring what a complete nancy it made him for listening to Arthur's heart beat and the longing it created inside of him.
The Great Dragon hadn't warned Merlin about confusing destiny with love but Merlin wasn't dense. He could read between the lines. But just being aware of the danger wasn't enough, Merlin had found. One must actively remind themselves and do things to distinguish the two. But Merlin wasn't sure whether it was worse to love someone and sacrifice them, love someone and lose them, or love someone and have them betray you. Either way, Merlin knew that loving someone and getting royally screwed in the end, be it the chopping block or twisted sneers or banishment, was probably similar to loving someone without it being returned. And cockin' up destiny, no doubt, while he was at it.
Merlin found it difficult to believe that legends would be told about him, about his magic, about Arthur and him and their great adventures. If people in the future realized he was just an adolescent, out-of-control magician, who had been tragically queer and pining for his once and future king, they wouldn’t waste their time writing about him.
As of now, loads of bards were lining up and around the castle gates to write that story down for all of Albion to hear. Right.
"Who could love a warlock anyway?" Merlin said into the darkness, before he laid down and forced himself to sleep.
In his dream, he repeated the question to the Great Dragon: "Certainly not a warlock with such large ears," the oaf had replied smugly. Before his faced shifted into Morgana's and then melted into Morgause's face, her eyes lined with pity.
<3<3<3
Dawn broke through his window and Merlin blinked the sleep out of his eyes, watching light flood his room, the sky still semi-dark outside. The clouds themselves had dissipated and the storm was gone, the only trace of the violent storm from the previous day were the fallen limbs from trees too weak for the strength of the winds and the way the ground seemed to breathe deeper without heat's tyranny. Merlin wondered if the weather would bring heat again today or if the storm had nudged Camelot into autumn. At least the drought could be staved off for a bit, not that one rain would heal the pains the crops were currently suffering, but it was enough to brighten Merlin's mood.
Merlin wasn't going to wish for anything too spectacular, just in case earth magic decided to talk to him or something and send the whole of Albion into another freak storm. Not that controlling the weather wasn't wonderful but since control wasn't Merlin's particular forte, he was just going to stick with whatever the weather chose to be that day.
"Merlin?" Gaius called from the main chambers, and Merlin moved toward the sound. Gaius was ladling porridge into two bowls by the table. Merlin's stomach rumbled in appreciation and anticipation.
Merlin rubbed sleep out of his eyes and slid onto the bench. "Mmm," he murmured when he found a spoon sliding into his hand. Gaius sat opposite him.
"Slept well, I trust?" Gaius regarded him with amused eyes. Merlin shrugged and shoved another spoonful of porridge into his mouth. "You didn't create any snow storms without your knowledge? No sudden hail in distant desert lands?"
Merlin glared and swallowed his mouthful. "I long for the days you were afraid to speak about my magic."
Gaius smirked into his breakfast. Merlin was grateful for the normality of their conversation, all things considered. Gaius had been wonderfully patient with all of Merlin's new... tricks. He had come an awful long way from shushing Merlin at every magical turn and glaring at him with that impressive eyebrow.
"No word from the Prince yet," Gaius said casually. Merlin shrugged, if Arthur didn't return sometime today then he'd start to worry. But the last time he checked on the Prince's heart it was still going strong and, Merlin imagined, rather prattishly too boot.
"It's a good thing too because I've yet to polish his daggers."
Gaius rose an eyebrow. "And that's important?"
"No," Merlin said. "But you'd think the way he carries on about them that he was about to go to war at any moment. Not that anyone actually needs twelve daggers on their bloody person but you can't tell him that."
Gaius laughed and Merlin smiled in reply. He knew that Gaius couldn't be as insubordinate as he was but Merlin knew that Gaius was probably a rebel in his day. Not that the old physician would ever admit it.
They finished breakfast in companionable silence before Merlin departed to get the rest of his chores for Arthur done, Gaius calling after him to come around if he got done early. Merlin yelled in agreement before he disappeared down the stairs, barely managing not to trip over his own damn feet.
The castle walls felt fresh around him as he ran his fingers along the cool stone. He wasn't completely ignorant. He had messed with nature, the natural course of the weather, but it would return as it was before-blinding, scorching heat laid ahead and Merlin wouldn't put it past the Old Religion to make it even more miserable. It had rained for two weeks straight after Merlin had accidentally killed Nimueh. It was not quite full light but he could feel the heat coming and the possibility of consequences for his magic lingered in the back of his mind. Could Camelot stand more heat? Merlin didn't think so, not when Arthur had been reluctant to leave the castle due to the harvest lingering on the horizon and summer’s heat refusing to release Camelot from its clutches.
Having powerful, other worldly powers wasn't as awesome as Merlin had thought it would be. In fact, that was probably why Nimueh was always hiding out in some pretty dodgy places. Lives of warlocks and witches were probably not very normal.
Merlin snorted and made his way to Arthur's chambers.
Merlin dreamed of normal. Normal was for the deepest of his desires and none of his waking hours. He was slowly coming to terms with these facts of his life, however, it didn't stop his dream-world from straying to the domestic. They were dreams after all and if he wanted to think about happily, ever after then he would. Merlin understood that happy endings weren't foretold in their destiny-in any destiny Arthur and him commanded. They would be great, if they didn't get each other killed first, but they would lead the life of legends and not fairytales. There was a difference and for this, Merlin was certain as he felt it in his bones. It was probably why the Great Dragon was always so full of riddles, it was hard to tell young people their destiny was intertwined as much together as it was in tragedy. The lives of legends didn't end in happily, ever after and it would do no good to harbor illusions to that effect. However, Merlin let himself wander down those paths every once in a while. Plus, just because they were supposed to be legends didn't mean Merlin couldn't get laid once in a while-destiny owed him as much if it was going to rob him of domestic bliss.
Merlin climbed another set of stairs and stopped at the landing, looking around at the empty corridors of the castle.
The castle wasn't yet awake. Merlin loved it when it was quiet, as if the whole of the castle was relaxed with sleep and Merlin particularly enjoyed it in the morning light. Nothing sinister was lurking in the corners and yet, it was quiet enough for Merlin to be able to think and use his magic without too much worrying of being discovered. As much as Gaius would protest, Merlin did, indeed, value the attachment of his head to the rest of his body.
Minor details.
As the castle slept, Merlin tidied Arthur's chambers and fluffed pillows. He completed all the ridiculous tasks that Merlin had never thought were necessary, let alone preformed, before coming to Camelot. He dusted cabinets and large, ornate bed frames, he scrubbed the floors and made five or ten trips down to the kitchens. Being a manservant was rather hard work. Merlin couldn't imagine handling his duties without magic and he felt terribly sorry for the servants around him who did their jobs without help; fetching water up from the belly of the castle or the wine stores or a startling number of things that involved carrying heavy objects up many sets of stairs. It was all very impressive.
"You're early to rise today," a teasing voice said from the open door as Merlin tried to wrestle with the bed curtains. Arthur hated to have his bed curtains drawn and yet, here Merlin was struggling with the blasted fabric anyway.
"I absolutely loathe bed curtains."
Gwen smiled and crossed the room to help him hang a particularly tricky corner of the curtain that never ceased to make the whole bed collapse when Merlin tried to use magic on it. Not for the first time, Merlin wondered if Uther had tricked the actual castle to believe magic was evil, although Gaius was more than eager to implicate Merlin's shabby housekeeping spells than the objects themselves.
"Any word from the Arthur yet?" Merlin asked casually. The storm was weighing heavily on his mind. If he couldn't get his magic under control then it wasn't safe to be around Arthur with the way he twisted Merlin's insides with so much emotion. It was unnatural, the effect the prince had on Merlin, not that Merlin hadn't thought about that. Merlin frowned. Where did destiny and reality cross, and did they intersect directly at his heart? It wouldn't surprise him. The dragon was cruel in his own right.
Kin, indeed.
"Don't worry, Merlin," Gwen answered and Merlin looked at her in confusion before he remembered that he had actually asked a question. "The scouts saw him ridding over the western ridge and seemed fine. Although, I suspect the hail storms from yesterday weren't pleasant to be out-of-doors in."
Merlin winced. "Great. More royally whinging."
"Oh shut it," Gwen admonished with a smile as she smoothed out the curtains. "You know that you and Morgana would be bored without the Prince around to annoy you all."
Silence echoed in the room and Gwen’s gaze darted away from his as the slip in her speech resonated between them.
Merlin's heart cracked, Morgana's laughter haunting him just as much as her tortured eyes. If only he had gone to her, disobeyed Gaius' advice and sought her out, gave her someone to confide in about her magic, then maybe things would have turned out differently. If only he had taken ownership of the magic in him, she wouldn't have turned to someone else. Merlin was pants at divination; the art of future telling was beyond his skill, but he had read about it and if the Dragon was right then Uther had created a malice inside of Morgana that would take hold for the rest of their years.
The silence between the two servants stretched, Gwen's face a picture of longing and sadness. It amazed Merlin how quickly the moods of the castle changed these days, almost as frequently as Merlin's magic. From playfulness, a brief reprieve from the grief of loosing a beloved lady, to the heavy weight of secrets and half-truths.
"Do you ever..." Gwen trailed off, her voice small and her eyes distant. Merlin moved closer to her, his hand curling around her bare shoulder.
"Do you ever wonder where she's gone?"
Merlin swallowed. "Gwen, she's safe. I know it," Merlin said and looked away from her eyes that had turned hopefully towards him. He longed to tell her all about Morgause, how they were half-sisters and that even if Morgause was an evil sorcerer, that she would keep Morgana was safe. He wanted nothing more than to reassure Gwen but the words stuck in his throat and shame burned hot up his neckerchief.
He was a coward.
"Trust me, Gwen." Merlin's voice shook but he didn't dare look the maidservant in the eye. She could squeeze anything out of him if she tried hard enough. "Trust me when I tell you that Morgana is not in any immediate danger."
"Merlin-"
Merlin was halfway down the corridor before Gwen could finished the choked and desperate gasp of his name.
Part Two