Howl - 1/2 (Merlin - PG-13)
Title: Howl
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 11,504!
Spoilers/Warnings: The same sort of violence you see on the show! Post-Season 2, spoilers for The Last Dragon Lord.
Author's Notes: Thanks to my beta, mpoetess and halfnorn for not telling me to shut up when I was writing it.
Summary: Reason number one why Arthur is not allowed to dress himself in the morning: It ends in bloodshed and running for your life. If you're Merlin, that is.
In the time Merlin had been working for Arthur, he'd become certain of a few facts about himself and their odd sort of relationship. First of which was that Arthur, no matter what he did to try and stop it from happening, always seemed to attract the worst things. It could never be the daughter of a lord who fancied him. Oh no. It had to be the daughter of a lord who just so happened to also be a high priestess of the dark spider god from far off lands who wanted to sacrifice Arthur's vitals in order to gain immortality.
And for the record? Merlin couldn't stand spiders now.
Second of these facts was that bravery, in Merlin's experience, was nigh identical to stupidity. The only discernible difference was if the person died or not. Merlin had not, before arriving in Camelot, thought himself a particularly brave man. Well, no more than the average person. He liked to think he wouldn't widdle when faced with death, but until that actually happened, no one could be sure, right?
So, imagine his surprise when, routinely faced with it, he managed to rise to the occasion each and every time.
The third and possibly most important thing he'd learned was that he was a surprisingly fast runner when forced into it. These instances generally happened when Arthur was in danger or Merlin was running late and needed to get across the castle before Arthur started to yell. But the point remained that he was a rather swift runner.
Though, those were under better circumstances than now. Not running through unfamiliar woods, nearly blind with only the faint light of the half moon to guide him anywhere. It was only through sheer dumb luck that he hadn't managed to turn an ankle or knock himself unconscious on any of the lower hanging branches as he ran.
Some sort of joke destiny was playing on him, right? If he was dead, he could hardly help Arthur become king.
The only reason he stopped was when his luck abruptly ran out and he was forced to cling to a tree before he hurled himself down an impossibly steep hill that he could have sworn hadn't been there before. Merlin gasped, taking shallow, panicked breaths as he turned to keep his back to the tree. Letting any of those beasts sneak up on him was a very, very bad idea.
Now that he was still, he could feel the sharp pains in his calves and thighs as they strongly protested this treatment. Each gasp for air burned down his throat and he coughed a few times before getting it all back under control.
There was no noise to alert him to their presence like he'd expected from dealing with Arthur's hunting dogs. They didn't howl or bay to alert each other to finding the prey. No, these creatures moved silent and carefully in order to catch him. Which made it difficult to determine if they were still even following him or had turned back to find Arthur in the village.
"I'm over here, you mutts!" Merlin shouted before he even realized what he was doing. Because he was stupid. Or brave. Take your pick in this instance.
The response came in the form of something rustling in the underbrush further off behind him. Like it was too large to slip through silently in its rush to find him. Rather than stick around and wait for them to show up for tea, Merlin was scrambling down the steep hillside as carefully as he could in his rush to simply move anywhere not near the noise.
"Bugger," he cursed silently under his breath. He was an idiot. Yes, it was decided. A complete and utter idiot.
But on he ran, cursing under his breath as he ignored the small branches that smacked him in the face.
This was possibly the worst night he'd ever had.
--
Arthur was going to kill him for being late again, Merlin just knew it. That odd little vein on the side of Arthur's forehead would be twitching by the time he got to the royal chambers and there would be twice the normal amount of work waiting for him in revenge for not attending to him on time.
He darted down the corridor toward Arthur's rooms, avoiding the servants that were also making their way through it as best he could. Only bumping into... a few. It was better than crashing into them!
"Sorry!" he called back to whoever he'd accidentally knocked against the wall in his haste.
Hopefully whatever they'd been carrying wasn't breakable.
He barely had time to open the door before barreling on in, just narrowly avoiding slamming into it in a manner that would no doubt have been comical.
"Good morning!" Merlin said as he took that moment to catch his breath. He smiled in a way he hoped was endearing and not psychotic as Arthur claimed, but it quickly gave way to a confused frown as he actually focused on Arthur. "You're dressed already."
It came out more as an accusation than statement of fact as it was intended. But he could hardly be faulted since that seemed to mean something was going on. Something that would no doubt attempt to murder Arthur.
Again.
"Nothing gets past you," Arthur replied, tugging a jacket on instead of looking at Merlin or calling attention to the danger he was clearly about to run off into. Like bloody clockwork these threats.
Merlin walked further into the room, shooting a glance past him out the window to check the position of the sun in the sky. "I'm not that late," he said, manfully ignoring how sulky it happened to come out.
"Yes, you are," Arthur replied promptly, grabbing his sword and belt off the table. "Now make yourself useful for a change and get the horses ready."
Well, there was the plural there, so clearly Arthur wasn't too cross about the lateness. Unless whatever it was they were riding out to see was particularly foul. The odds of that were surprisingly high. If they had to go through another cave with giant, flesh eating rats again, Merlin was going to tell destiny to sod off and quit.
"For hunting?" he asked with a mixture of wary and hopeful. Merlin closed the distance between them to take care of the belt for Arthur before he even finished asking the question. Look, it happened automatically these days. There was nothing wrong with that. Just him being a good servant for a change.
Arthur let him take that over, sighing as though resigned to Merlin's assistance. "Possibly. A village to the west sent report of a wolf attack on their livestock."
Shooting him a confused look, Merlin fastened the belt and shifted it just so that the sword rested where Arthur prefered. "You're being sent to investigate a sheep that got eaten?"
Arthur just gave him one of those imperious looks he seemed to have learned from Uther and lifted his chin in an attempt to look down on Merlin. It was difficult seeing as how Merlin was actually taller than him. "We--stop grinning, you look deranged--are investigating."
Merlin did not grin like a loon at the 'we', really. Not at all. Nor did he keep grinning as he stepped back to check over Arthur's outfit.
"Still," he said, smoothing Arthur's jacket idly. "It's a bit odd to send the prince for that, don't you think?"
"I don't think it matters, Merlin. Now stop trying to get out of doing your job and see to the horses already," Arthur snapped, ignoring the actual question with practiced ease. It made Merlin all sorts of suspicious about his motives on this, but he was willing to go along with it because... okay, stopping Arthur from doing something his mind was set upon was like trying to stop the sun from rising. Unless you were the king, but even that was a bit sketchy these days.
"Right, right," Merlin replied affably, pulling to look Arthur in the eye. "Anything else we'll need?"
Arthur rolled his eyes and shifted where the sword rested on his hip. "Nothing for you to pack, Merlin. I've already sent word ahead for the quartermaster to gather together what we'll need. Now if you'll get to the stables before the sun sets..."
"Right on that!" Merlin called back, already half way out the door as Arthur shot him a sour look.
He had to roll his eyes as he caught Arthur putting the sword back the way it was before realizing that Merlin got that right the first time.
--
The ride took a better part of the day to reach the tiny village in question. If you could even call it a village. At least Ealdor had more than four houses and a well.
The noise from the horses drew the few men in the village out to greet them. They had the same oddly strained look about them that the people in Ealdor had when he'd returned to help against Kanen. Merlin bit his lip, looking around at the houses as Arthur dismounted from his horse to speak with the men.
"Your highness," one of them men said, causing the others to bow their heads politely, barely giving Merlin a second glance. Typical. "An honor."
He could see the faces of a few women and children peering out from the dim houses, curious and afraid as they watched their guests. The curiosity was to be expected, but the fear was distressing. Something more than just a simple wolf attack had to be going on to garner that sort of reaction from people out on the edge of the kingdom. They tended to be a bit more independent if how things were in Ealdor was anything to go by.
"Weren't expecting anyone, certainly not a prince," the man continued, clearing his throat nervously before he added a quick, "Sire."
Arthur held himself stiffly, chin raised and shoulders back as he also seemed to notice the looks they were getting from the houses. Somehow Merlin had the sneaking suspicion that he'd missed something terribly important this morning.
"Camelot protects its people," Arthur said as though there simply was no other option in his mind.
It's possible there wasn't. Merlin found that to be one of the reasons on a growing list of why Arthur would be a good king. Not that he'd had anywhere to go but up considering Merlin's first encounter with the man.
Merlin struggled down off his own horse, making a face as muscles strongly protested the movement. He really hated riding. Really, really hated it. He waved slightly at a small group of children in one of the houses before they disappeared in a hurry.
Right. That was... odd.
Arthur cleared his throat, distracting Merlin from his attempts to be friendly. "What exactly happened?"
"Yes, sire," the man--possibly the appointed spokesman of the village or just the one unlucky enough to have spoken first--said, nodding and looking away from Arthur before he gestured past the homes. "This way?"
Arthur nodded, taking the lead out of habit no doubt. "Come on, Merlin," he said, watching the rest of the faces disappear as they neared the houses. Arthur stared at the man leading them as if expecting him to offer up a name.
Which apparently unnerved the poor man, who looked over at Merlin for a moment as if for reassurance. Merlin offered a small nod, repressing the urge to sigh.
"Cadoc, m'lord."
"Tell me what happened, Cadoc," Arthur said again, making the slightest of faces at the smell as they neared what must have been where they kept the animals.
Merlin was nowhere near as successful at hiding his expression, having to cover his nose and mouth with his sleeve to keep from gagging. The ground was still stained red with blood, but that was to be expected after a wolf attack, right?
Perhaps not quite so much of the ground covered in it, though. There was nothing quite like the scent of slaughtered animals after they'd had a morning in the sun to really ripen like a horrible perfume. Flies still buzzed around the area, even though there weren't any creatures to feed on.
Not too far away there was a fire smoldering, black smoke wafting up from it as it slowly died down from what must have been one hell of a blaze. Merlin could just barely make out the shape of bones among the ashes. Well, that explained what happened to the killed sheep. Which was... odd if you asked Merlin. Not that he would claim to be an expert on wolves, but you'd think they would have dragged off their kill to finish eating it.
"More than just one was killed?" Arthur asked, watching the fire with keen interest.
Cadoc nodded once, leading them toward the fire. "All of them, sire. Every last one was slaughtered."
"By wolves," Arthur said, disbelief clear in his voice.
Opening his mouth as if to agree, Cadoc looked back toward the houses and fell silent instead. "I've never known a wolf to act like these beasts did," he finally said slowly.
Arthur shot a look over at Merlin, as though he expected something out of him. It left a small thread of panic in Merlin's mind, forcing him to wonder just what it was he wasn't catching. "Go on," he said, breaking his gaze away from Merlin to focus on Cadoc again.
"They stayed all through the night," the man said, walking the short distance back over toward the nearest house. "Just circling our homes and clawing to get in."
There were indeed marks on the outside of the house, down low where it would be expected from wolves. But there were also a few that were much higher up than strictly possible for a wolf. Merlin reached up to touch it, finding where it began just out of reach. Either it was monster of a wolf or something else entirely.
It was always just so nice to see he was right about Arthur dressing himself being a sign of horrible things to come. He was never going to be late ever again. And he'd find a way to lock Arthur's cupboard up in case the man woke up early.
"We will need lodging for the night," Arthur said, scanning the treeline just beyond where the village ended. It was far denser than what remained around Camelot and no doubt harder to navigate.
It would be an understatement to say Merlin wasn't looking forward to going in there.
Cadoc looked over to Merlin first, silently confirming that he heard Arthur correctly. "Of course, sire," he said, relief evident in his voice. "Thank you, sire."
And he was starting back to the very tiny group of villagers loitering just the other side of the houses to prepare things for a royal guest and share the good news.
Merlin watched as the relief seemed to spread among the people there like a ripple in a pool of water. He could hardly help but smile for a moment before the claw marks under his fingers still brought him back to reality. "Do you think it will return?"
Arthur sighed, crouching down for a moment to place his spread hand over a track in the mud. His hand only barely covered it. "We'll need bait to insure it does. Wolves... the tracks are too big for them and not the right shape for a bear."
"What do you think it is then?" Merlin asked, craning his neck to see them.
Arthur's head shot up, pinning Merlin in place with a look. "What do you think it is?"
"I--" Merlin fumbled for something to respond with other than 'very, very large wolves.' Because somehow he didn't think that was the answer Arthur wanted. And it wasn't exactly the most intelligent of responses. Somewhere, he was sure Gaius was despairing that he hadn't read up enough to know.
"Go unload the horses. We'll need to scout the area," Arthur said, looking away before Merlin could come up with a suitable response.
Merlin nodded and took the opportunity to flee for their supplies like the brave warlock he was.
--
With Authur off traipsing through the woods for any more signs of these giant wolves and 'bait,' Merlin was left to tether the horses to the house and make sure their lodging was set up.
Cadoc had, despite Merlin's protests, vacated his family from their home to allow Arthur--mostly just Arthur--and Merlin to use his home while they stayed with one of the neighbors. Royal guests got all sorts of special treatment, after all.
In the time patiently waiting for Arthur's return, Merlin was left strongly wishing he'd brought his spell book in case there was anything about evil wolf monsters. Really, really tall ones. Though, the odds of them being in there was rather slim. It almost made him long for the days when Gaius knew the answer or he could just ask the dragon what to do next.
Those days were in the past now.
Though thinking about it managed to pass the time nicely until Arthur finally reappeared, deer slung over his shoulders and very much not mauled by mysterious beasts.
As Merlin stood up to greet him, Arthur dropped the deer carefully by the closest house and nodded toward Cadoc. "Take what you need from it and divide it among the village. I'll need the rest for bait."
"Of course, sire," Cadoc said, picking the deer up to drag off for the women to butcher. Fall wasn't too far away and no one would refuse a gift like that. Well, no one in their right mind.
Merlin nodded at Arthur, letting himself smile just a bit at the generosity. "You didn't have to do that, you know."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Arthur replied dryly, wiping his hands off on his trousers. "Where are our rooms?"
"Room," Merlin corrected brightly. Because Arthur being a good person always put him in a better mood for some reason.
Arthur raised an eyebrow at that, waiting for Merlin to go on before he was forced to smack him upside the head.
"Cadoc very kindly offered us his home," Merlin informed him, leaning in conspiratorially.
The look of bemused annoyance didn't quite leave but Arthur did glance away. "There were more claw marks on the trees just past the treeline."
"Is that normal for wolves?" Merlin asked, following his gaze curiously.
"No."
Arthur took a breath before smacking Merlin in the chest with his crossbow. "Get ready. It's going to be a long night."
--
Once the villagers were all safely inside their homes and what was left of the deer placed in the middle of the paddock, Arthur and Merlin climbed up on top of the roof of the home they'd been given to use in order to wait for whatever was to be arriving.
Arthur with his crossbow and sword and Merlin with... Arthur's spare crossbow bolts.
"It's a bit cold," Merlin said as the silence stretched out between them. It was one of many reasons he was utter shite at this hunting thing.
Arthur clenched his jaw and that one little vein twitched again. "That's because you're a twig."
But he did tug his jacket around himself a bit more firmly before continuing. "Now, if you're done ruining the element of surprise..."
Merlin raised his hands in surrender, very pointedly closing his mouth to signal he was going to be quiet now. See how quiet he was?
Silent as a churchmouse, this man. Though, really now. Why on earth would Arthur take him along so much if he knew Merlin would just end up prattling on?
"What if they don't come back?" Merlin asked after seven entire minutes of silence. Possibly a new record.
Arthur shot him an exasperated look. "Merlin. Will you shut your mouth?"
Ducking his head, Merlin shrugged helplessly. "I'm just asking."
Really, it wasn't fair to tell him to be quiet when there were important questions on his mind.
Arthur took a deep breath through his nose, jaw still clenched in the effort to not shout. "Is it impossible for you to remain silent for any length of time?"
"Well, no--" Merlin started, frowning and not at all sulky about the accusation.
Really.
"Then why don't you?" Arthur snapped, not letting him finish. He snagged Merlin by the scarf, yanking him closer so he could continue in a quieter, but no less angry, tone. "Are you touched in the head?"
Merlin's eyes were wide at how very, very close Arthur now was. He could now see that there was color high on the other man's cheeks. Oh, Arthur really had to be upset now.
Even if he looked more focused than anything. Which was... odd, but not enough to make him think anything otherwise.
Merlin tried to look him in the eye, but found that a bit difficult with all that focus on him, so it skittered off to just past Arthur and toward the treeline. Where something moved.
Oh.
"Arthur--" he hissed, watching as a dark figure moved along the fence of the paddock. Behind them he could hear the horses moving nervously.
Arthur narrowed his eyes, focus dropping from Merlin's eyes downward for some reason. "Do I need to repeat myself?"
"The deer," Merlin managed to say as coherent thought fizzled out for some reason.
It returned, along with a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, again as Arthur dropped his hold on Merlin and twisted to look. That was... good.
Yes.
Merlin swallowed and tried to focus on the darks shapes as they moved along the fence soundlessly.
The horses continued to make spooked noises, tugging on their ties as if to run away from the predators. There was an answering snarl from below as one of the creatures loped over the fence and into the dimly lit paddock. Moonlight really didn't help much unless it was a very clear night and a very full moon.
Neither of which they had going for them at the moment. But it was enough to get an idea of what the beast looked like, at least.
It was a wolf of sorts. Well, parts of it did look wolf-like. In the same way a dragon looked like a lizard. Ignoring the fact that it was nearly twice the damned size of a wolf, there were more things just wrong with it. The hind legs were too long and the chest was too wide around to exist on anything natural. It didn't look like it was meant to walk on all four legs like it was doing now. Something was just... off about its cadence.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Arthur pick up the crossbow and take aim on it as more joined the first in the paddock to sniff at the deer carcass. Five total so far, circling and snarling both at each other and the bait.
It took a tense moment for one of them to finally snatch the spindly leg of the deer, yanking on it with a low growl before the rest joined in on tearing the remains to pieces. Not eating, just destroying it with a savage sort of thrill.
"Arthur," he whispered, hand on the man's shoulder carefully.
"I know," Arthur ground out, low and tense.
One of the creatures turned its head away from the others, ears perked and looking right at them. It bared its teeth, started for the building before a crossbow bolt hit it between the eyes and it fell lifeless to the ground.
It was enough to pull the attention of the others away from what was left of the deer. They remained still and silent, just looking up at the pair on the roof with eerily intelligent eyes. It made them seem more and more human with each passing second.
"The bolts, Merlin," came Arthur's urgent voice, forcing Merlin to look away from the creatures. That seemed to be all they needed to start toward the house, teeth bared as they passed the fallen of their number.
Wasn't that just perfect then? It couldn't possibly be a real adventure with Arthur without some horrible thing trying to eat at least one of them.
Shoving another bolt forward into Arthur's waiting hand, Merlin finally did the reasonable thing and stayed quiet. He could manage it from time to time. If he tried hard enough.
As Arthur took the time to carefully load the crossbow, below them the creatures paced along side the house wall. Each passing moment had them growing bolder in their attempts to reach the pair.
Merlin managed a quick glance over the edge to find one of the beasts propped up using the wall for support. It looked at him and dug its claws into the wall to attempt climbing up to get at him.
Right. That had been a horrible idea.
"Merlin," Arthur snapped, grabbing him by the shoulder to yank him away from the edge. "Is there a thought in that hollow shell of a skull of y--"
The rest of Arthur's no doubt witty insult was cut short as a paw, if one could even call it that, managed to catch the edge of the roof and dig into the straw like it was making a handhold to climb up with.
This close up, it was painfully clear that whatever this was, wasn't natural. Those 'paws' looked more like human hands than anything on an animal.
"That," Merlin said, scrambling back away from that hand. "That is not wolf."
"Really, Merlin?" Arthur asked, moving toward the edge like the madman he was. Aiming down at the thing, he fired without any sort of hesitation. There was a startled yelp and, soon after the hand disappeared, a dull thud.
Arthur shoved the crossbow at Merlin's chest, forcing him to juggle the bolts to keep from dropping them down onto their furry little friends. "What are you--" Merlin started to ask as Arthur pulled his sword. "Are you insane?!"
"You've got my back, right?" Arthur asked with a careless little grin as he perched on the edge of the roof.
And, before Merlin could reply, jumped down.
Because he was insane.
"Arthur!" Merlin damn near toppled down the roof after him. He just barely managed to catch himself before hitting the edge, by clinging rather pathetically to the tightly packed straw.
That, of course, meant the crossbow did fall to the ground out of reach. Because destiny loathed him for some reason.
And there were no conveniently placed branches or chandeliers that could happen to fall down and save Arthur in the nick of time either. So Merlin was plum out of ideas of how to 'watch Arthur's back' without being forced to do magic right in front of his nose. He may as well just wave about a festive flag proclaiming his abilities to the world without anything to explain away how he managed sans weapon.
Whatever decision he might have made on the matter went right out the window as the beast Arthur had wounded with the crossbow just moments earlier staggered back onto its feet behind the man. Merlin inhaled sharply, leaning further over the edge of the roof. He looked around for something to use and only found one of the bolts. That would just have to do for now.
Taking a deep, hopefully calming breath, he closed his eyes and concentrated. This would have a perfectly reasonable explanation sometime later. When Arthur was still alive.
The bolt was floating a bit in front of him when he opened his eyes, much to his satisfaction. A flick of his hand sent it flying toward the injured monster that was slowly coming at Arthur from behind. It was also just enough to send him off balance and tumbling down to the thankfully soft mud next to the crossbow.
"Merlin, you were supposed to stay on the roof!" Arthur snapped, not turning around as he moved to place himself between Merlin and the three creatures he'd been fending off.
"Um--" Look, Merlin was hardly in the best place to be responding to things that required a higher thought process than 'my arse is killing me' at the moment. He looked from Arthur to the creatures who were--staring right back at him as if Arthur wasn't even there. After a few disturbing seconds, they turned tail and fled the paddock, leaping over the small fence to return to the woods.
That had been decidedly unexpected.
Arthur kept his eyes trained on them until there was no sign of anything vaguely wolf-like nearby, then he turned back to Merlin. "...You broke my crossbow!" he said, mouth open in indignation.
Sure enough, when Merlin glanced over at it, the device was more than a bit mangled from its fall off the roof. "I didn't do it on purpose! There was a--thingy attacking you! It was right--" Merlin pointed over to where it had been when the bolt stuck it in the flank only it was not there anymore.
The only sign the creatures had even attacked was the one still laying in the middle of the paddock with a crossbow bolt in its skull.
"Only you would fall off a roof while firing a crossbow," Arthur informed him, shaking his head as he walked over toward the dead beast.
It was far too much of a relief that Arthur came up with the story for him. Enough so that Merlin flopped back in the mud, hoping that they could have a nice quiet evening of not moving now. Give him a chance to nurse his bruises and wounded ego.
"We have work to do, Merlin!"
Or not. Slave driver.
---
'Work to do' evidently meant 'prod the wolf-thing's corpse with my sword while giving Merlin confusing looks.' Like he expected Merlin's eyebrows to grow to Gaius' level so he could provide answers as to what they were.
Sadly nothing of the sort was forthcoming so, after a few awkward minutes, Arthur finally looked away and left Merlin to take care of the mess.
It was dawn by the time the wolf-thing and what was left of the deer were burned to ashes. The people didn't need to see the monster and panic, Arthur had said.
"We will need to find their den," Arthur informed a group of the village's men. "Before they can return tonight. And since someone--"
Merlin at least had the good grace to look sheepish at that. Even if he was struggling to keep his eyes open.
"--broke my crossbow, I will need use of whatever bow you may have."
"Of course, your highness," Cadoc replied quickly. Because not everyone had Merlin's casual disregard for rank and protocol.
After a curt nod to the gathered men, Arthur walked to where Merlin was propped up against the wall. And very rudely kicked his boot to get him up and on his feet. "Stop lazing about."
"People do need sleep occasionally, you know," came Merlin's response, interrupted by a exaggerated yawn.
"You can sleep later," Arthur replied even as Merlin took note of the bags under Arthur's eyes. "We have to get moving."
Merlin made a face, rubbing the back of his neck. "And I wasn't lazing about, Arthur."
"You were if I say you were," Arthur replied, hand on his sword as he watched the treeline.
Neither the bickering, nor the very familiar use of Arthur's given name escaped the notice of the villagers. They made themselves scarce, not wanting to cross the crown price like his servant was so willing to.
"Well, that's not fair," Merlin replied.
"Part of being your prince, Merlin; I don't have to be... fair," Arthur trailed off, drawing his sword as he made for the trees suddenly.
Merlin hurried on after him, eyes widening as he caught sight of the figure dragging itself out from the underbrush. In the daylight it looked more like something from one of Gaius' grimoires than a real living creature.
The only thing that kept Arthur from driving his sword into it then and there was the noise it made.
"Ppppleeease," it whined, dragging the limbs injured by crossbow bolts. It wasn't made for speech and that much was clear in the struggle to form words.
Arthur took a step back, one hand on Merlin's chest to keep him away. "What?"
"Pppleeease," it whined again. "Kkkill mmme."
"Did it just... er... talk?" Merlin asked, not really cowering on behind Arthur like he was supposed to be. Not exactly the best servant, after all.
Arthur's fingers dug into his shirt, twisting the loose fabric around Merlin's chest almost painfully tight. "Will you shut up?" Arthur hissed, shoving him back with force now.
Enough to cause Merlin to stumble and nearly fall.
Merlin opened his mouth to object to the shove, but never got past the first syllable of Arthur's name as the creature whined again. Pitiful and low like--like an animal. With horribly human eyes this close up. Begging for the mercy of a sword. "Pppleease?"
"Arth--" Merlin started, going to put his hand on the man's shoulder before a near violent shrug forced him to reconsider.
"Go tend to the horses," Arthur said, voice going rough and harsh. He didn't even turn to see Merlin gearing up to argue the point before adding, "Now, Merlin."
Merlin took a step back, looking from Arthur to the creature and then back again. The last time he'd seen Arthur this wound up, bad things had happened. Bad, attempted patricidal things. And, if how tightly Arthur was gripping his sword was any measure to go by, this was almost certainly one of those occasions.
Swallowing back his apprehension, Merlin nodded. "Yes, sire," he mumbled, turning and fleeing from the scene. All while feeling like a complete and utter coward as he did.
The silence was the worst part about it. And the waiting. The silence and the waiting, Merlin decided as he more petted Arthur's horse than saw to its care. Someone in the village had been kind enough to look after the pair of them sometime this morning, so there was hardly any work to be done.
Arthur had been so damned angry at the prospect of magic doing that to a person. The same sort of barely controlled anger he'd had after that meeting with Morgause and learning how his mother died. It was showing up more and more often in Arthur when dealing with magic these days. Each time causing the pit in Merlin's stomach to grow as if every lie and half truth he told was suddenly under scrutiny.
"He'll calm down," he assured the horse. And himself, but the horse was a better listener. "He just needs a bit of alone time."
Instead of some stirring words of comfort, the horse tried to eat his scarf in response. Typical.
Merlin tugged on the fabric, shaking his head in disappointment at the horse. There might have even been an eyebrow raise in there as well. "Now, we've talked about this," Merlin chided. "My scarf isn't for eating, no matter how hard you try."
He turned around to see if he could dig up a treat from the saddlebags in order to distract it and promptly almost ran into Arthur's chest.
"Arthur!" he said, stifling the small shriek of surprise that really wanted out. "I didn't hear you."
The obvious joke about ears wasn't made, nor did Arthur roll his eyes as Merlin laughed at himself with growing nervousness.
"What are they?" he asked instead, jaw set and expression devoid of emotion. The faint squeak of leather drew Merlin's eyes down to the sword still tightly clutched in Arthur's hand.
"I--what?" Merlin asked, forcing his gaze up to Arthur's face and away from the sword. Looking at the sword was a bad idea. Very, very... oh god, he was looking again!
Arthur took a step forward, so Merlin took a step back. Like this was some sort of dance. This, of course trapped Merlin between the horse and the pillar of wood holding up the roof.
"Don't play dumb," Arthur said through clenched teeth. His voice was tightly controlled and promising an explosion if Merlin didn't respond correctly.
Merlin bumped into the horse, putting his hand on its back like a lifeline as panic tried to crawl up his throat and have him blurt out unfortunate things. Like how he was rather fond of watching Arthur's arse when he wore his hunting leathers for what were purely aesthetic reasons.
He swallowed that back, trying to smile in a way he hoped was appeasing. "There is no playing of anything here," he said, squeaking like a boy before he cleared his his throat to get rid of that. "No playing here at all."
And Merlin was once again helpless but to look down at Arthur's hand and the sword therein. He only looked back up when the man spoke again. "I won't ask this again, Merlin. What are they?"
"I--I--" Merlin shook his head, not sure there even was a right answer for Arthur. "Wolf-men?" he ventured after the silence stretched out.
Arthur's face went red and he inhaled sharply. Wrong answer, it seemed.
"I don't know, I don't know!" he added quickly, feeling that panic crop up again. "I'm not Gaius!"
Arthur's hand came up fast enough to spook the horse into abandoning Merlin, slamming into the solid wood with a dull thud. "Don't lie to me!" Arthur shouted, losing any attempt at control or quiet.
Merlin pressed himself against the pillar, wishing very hard that he could be anywhere else but by a madman wielding a sword. "I'm not lying," he said, shaking his head as if to prove his point.
"Do you think I'm an idiot?" Arthur snapped, crowding into Merlin's space even more than before.
Only when he was being an absolute prig about things, came the thought completely unbidden. It was possibly the least helpful thing to think at that moment. So, Merlin was left stammering nonsensical words in response, frozen in place like one of the hares Arthur hunted. And feeling very much the same as one at this point.
"I am neither blind, nor deaf," Arthur hissed. "Did you really think that I wouldn't figure it out?"
Eyes going wide, Merlin gave serious consideration to running right then and there. Destiny be damned. Arthur knew about him. Oh, god he was a dead man. That would explain all the expectant looks, the unbearable mood swings when the subject of magic came up and... and.. his head was still attached to his shoulders. Why was his head still attached to his shoulders if Arthur was this livid about it?
The thought must have shown up on his face as Arthur looked down at the sword in his hand and then back at a now wincing Merlin.
With a more than welcome eyeroll, Arthur pulled back enough to sheath the sword. "If I didn't do it when I found out, why would I do it now?" he asked, more annoyed than homicidal at the moment.
Merlin opened and closed his mouth in a failed attempt to try speaking again. It was more than a bit of a shock to find out that Arthur knew and hadn't--wasn't going to do anything about it. "Ah... when?" he managed after a few false starts.
"Balinor," Arthur replied shortly, moving away from Merlin to pace along the entrance to the small stable. "I'm surprised all of Camelot didn't hear you and him talking."
At the mention of his father, Merlin very suddenly found interest in the floor. It was fascinating, all that dirt and straw there. "That long?"
And Arthur was now helping the inspection. If the attention he was paying the walls was anything to go by. "Yes, Merlin," he ground out in a manner not befitting a prince. "That long."
"Oh." Merlin just let that sink in for a moment before turning his attention away from the floor and back fully on Arthur. "Why?" he found himself asking against all logic and what passed for good judgment with him. Somewhere, Gaius was despairing in him.
Arthur's shoulders tensed and pulled back as he lifted his chin just a touch higher before meeting Merlin's eyes. "We were already asking a sorcerer for help," he replied with a sort of stiff formality to his tone. "And--"
Was that hesitation?
"--you're an idiot."
Wait, what?
"What?" Merlin asked, looking at Arthur like he'd grown a second head and that head was loudly declaring jousting to be a complete waste of time.
Arthur rolled his eyes, slowly relaxing from that tense state he'd been in before. Apparently all it took was some good old mocking of Merlin to do. He'd have to keep that in mind. "You're an idiot," Arthur said in a slow, deliberate tone.
"I got that part," Merlin assured him. "I'm just--not too sure what it has to do with, er, all this."
Not that he really was an idiot, mind. He just didn't think arguing the point would help the discussion. And it was only sometimes he did idiotic things. A lot of the time. Okay, so the whole thing was debatable, alright?
"You're obviously the worst sorcerer in all of history," Arthur replied loftily. "And you're--" He made a face like this pained him to say. "--still the same stupidly brave person who has saved my life on occasion."
He cleared his throat, looking away.
"Perhaps more than I know of," Arthur added after a moment. "But you're still a complete idiot."
Merlin nodded slowly in agreement, mostly because he wasn't all that sure how to respond to that. "Thank you?"
"You're welcome," came the automatic reply, born more out of training in proper manners that real sentiment. Arthur paused, giving Merlin one hell of a confused look. One that said he hadn't the faintest clue how the conversation got to this point, but he was blaming Merlin for it regardless. These sort of things tended to be Merlin's fault, after all.
Which meant the status quo was reestablished and all was right with the world for that moment. It was almost enough to make Merlin relax and stop clinging to the pillar.
"Right." Arthur cleared his throat and turned his attention back to the wall. It was enough to make Merlin peer over that way as well to make sure nothing was written there. Just in case. "Now, what are those things?"
The looking was abandoned in favour of thumping his head against the pillar in frustration at that. "I already said that I don't know," Merlin reminded him.
How was it that he was the dim one here?
After nearly braining himself, he looked up to find Arthur giving him an almost pitying look. "You really are the worst sorcerer ever, aren't you?"
Merlin opened his mouth, squawking in outrage at that slur against his no longer secret abilities. "I am not!" he replied primly. "I'll have you know I'm actually a rather good one. Legendary, in fact."
Okay, so that last bit was a bit of a stretch. He was at the point where he was pretty sure the dragon had just been blowing smoke up his arse about the whole 'legendary future' in store. Legendary futures shouldn't include washing someone else's socks, after all.
"Of course you are," Arthur replied with that smug look that always made Merlin consider doing something rash. Like turn him into a newt. "Do you have a guess at least?"
"A guess?" Merlin asked, looking away as the image of Freya flitted through his mind. Those eyes on the creature. And the attempts to talk... "A curse, maybe?"
"A curse," Arthur repeated, actually seeming to be giving Merlin's opinion due consideration.
Something small and all together girlish in the back of Merlin's mind squealed with joy at that. It was probably for the best that he never, ever vocalize that. If he wanted to keep from dying of mortification, that is.
Merlin nodded encouragingly. "I could--talk to some of the villagers and see if there's any sort of local legends of vengeful wizards or creatures that do that to a man," he added quickly.
"Do that," Arthur replied with a nod. "I'll work on fortifying the village for when they return."
With that, Arthur raised his hand to clap Merlin on the shoulder, only to find the angle a bit too awkward to accomplish. Which meant they were stuck in an odd sort of limbo where Merlin tried offering his hand for a shake or--dare he hope for it--a hug of some sort. It ended with Arthur nodding once again and forcing his hand back down at his side.
Which was a bit awkward.
"Don't just stand there," Arthur snapped, not about to let something petty like that get in his way. "Get to it!"
Continued here...
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 11,504!
Spoilers/Warnings: The same sort of violence you see on the show! Post-Season 2, spoilers for The Last Dragon Lord.
Author's Notes: Thanks to my beta, mpoetess and halfnorn for not telling me to shut up when I was writing it.
Summary: Reason number one why Arthur is not allowed to dress himself in the morning: It ends in bloodshed and running for your life. If you're Merlin, that is.
In the time Merlin had been working for Arthur, he'd become certain of a few facts about himself and their odd sort of relationship. First of which was that Arthur, no matter what he did to try and stop it from happening, always seemed to attract the worst things. It could never be the daughter of a lord who fancied him. Oh no. It had to be the daughter of a lord who just so happened to also be a high priestess of the dark spider god from far off lands who wanted to sacrifice Arthur's vitals in order to gain immortality.
And for the record? Merlin couldn't stand spiders now.
Second of these facts was that bravery, in Merlin's experience, was nigh identical to stupidity. The only discernible difference was if the person died or not. Merlin had not, before arriving in Camelot, thought himself a particularly brave man. Well, no more than the average person. He liked to think he wouldn't widdle when faced with death, but until that actually happened, no one could be sure, right?
So, imagine his surprise when, routinely faced with it, he managed to rise to the occasion each and every time.
The third and possibly most important thing he'd learned was that he was a surprisingly fast runner when forced into it. These instances generally happened when Arthur was in danger or Merlin was running late and needed to get across the castle before Arthur started to yell. But the point remained that he was a rather swift runner.
Though, those were under better circumstances than now. Not running through unfamiliar woods, nearly blind with only the faint light of the half moon to guide him anywhere. It was only through sheer dumb luck that he hadn't managed to turn an ankle or knock himself unconscious on any of the lower hanging branches as he ran.
Some sort of joke destiny was playing on him, right? If he was dead, he could hardly help Arthur become king.
The only reason he stopped was when his luck abruptly ran out and he was forced to cling to a tree before he hurled himself down an impossibly steep hill that he could have sworn hadn't been there before. Merlin gasped, taking shallow, panicked breaths as he turned to keep his back to the tree. Letting any of those beasts sneak up on him was a very, very bad idea.
Now that he was still, he could feel the sharp pains in his calves and thighs as they strongly protested this treatment. Each gasp for air burned down his throat and he coughed a few times before getting it all back under control.
There was no noise to alert him to their presence like he'd expected from dealing with Arthur's hunting dogs. They didn't howl or bay to alert each other to finding the prey. No, these creatures moved silent and carefully in order to catch him. Which made it difficult to determine if they were still even following him or had turned back to find Arthur in the village.
"I'm over here, you mutts!" Merlin shouted before he even realized what he was doing. Because he was stupid. Or brave. Take your pick in this instance.
The response came in the form of something rustling in the underbrush further off behind him. Like it was too large to slip through silently in its rush to find him. Rather than stick around and wait for them to show up for tea, Merlin was scrambling down the steep hillside as carefully as he could in his rush to simply move anywhere not near the noise.
"Bugger," he cursed silently under his breath. He was an idiot. Yes, it was decided. A complete and utter idiot.
But on he ran, cursing under his breath as he ignored the small branches that smacked him in the face.
This was possibly the worst night he'd ever had.
--
Arthur was going to kill him for being late again, Merlin just knew it. That odd little vein on the side of Arthur's forehead would be twitching by the time he got to the royal chambers and there would be twice the normal amount of work waiting for him in revenge for not attending to him on time.
He darted down the corridor toward Arthur's rooms, avoiding the servants that were also making their way through it as best he could. Only bumping into... a few. It was better than crashing into them!
"Sorry!" he called back to whoever he'd accidentally knocked against the wall in his haste.
Hopefully whatever they'd been carrying wasn't breakable.
He barely had time to open the door before barreling on in, just narrowly avoiding slamming into it in a manner that would no doubt have been comical.
"Good morning!" Merlin said as he took that moment to catch his breath. He smiled in a way he hoped was endearing and not psychotic as Arthur claimed, but it quickly gave way to a confused frown as he actually focused on Arthur. "You're dressed already."
It came out more as an accusation than statement of fact as it was intended. But he could hardly be faulted since that seemed to mean something was going on. Something that would no doubt attempt to murder Arthur.
Again.
"Nothing gets past you," Arthur replied, tugging a jacket on instead of looking at Merlin or calling attention to the danger he was clearly about to run off into. Like bloody clockwork these threats.
Merlin walked further into the room, shooting a glance past him out the window to check the position of the sun in the sky. "I'm not that late," he said, manfully ignoring how sulky it happened to come out.
"Yes, you are," Arthur replied promptly, grabbing his sword and belt off the table. "Now make yourself useful for a change and get the horses ready."
Well, there was the plural there, so clearly Arthur wasn't too cross about the lateness. Unless whatever it was they were riding out to see was particularly foul. The odds of that were surprisingly high. If they had to go through another cave with giant, flesh eating rats again, Merlin was going to tell destiny to sod off and quit.
"For hunting?" he asked with a mixture of wary and hopeful. Merlin closed the distance between them to take care of the belt for Arthur before he even finished asking the question. Look, it happened automatically these days. There was nothing wrong with that. Just him being a good servant for a change.
Arthur let him take that over, sighing as though resigned to Merlin's assistance. "Possibly. A village to the west sent report of a wolf attack on their livestock."
Shooting him a confused look, Merlin fastened the belt and shifted it just so that the sword rested where Arthur prefered. "You're being sent to investigate a sheep that got eaten?"
Arthur just gave him one of those imperious looks he seemed to have learned from Uther and lifted his chin in an attempt to look down on Merlin. It was difficult seeing as how Merlin was actually taller than him. "We--stop grinning, you look deranged--are investigating."
Merlin did not grin like a loon at the 'we', really. Not at all. Nor did he keep grinning as he stepped back to check over Arthur's outfit.
"Still," he said, smoothing Arthur's jacket idly. "It's a bit odd to send the prince for that, don't you think?"
"I don't think it matters, Merlin. Now stop trying to get out of doing your job and see to the horses already," Arthur snapped, ignoring the actual question with practiced ease. It made Merlin all sorts of suspicious about his motives on this, but he was willing to go along with it because... okay, stopping Arthur from doing something his mind was set upon was like trying to stop the sun from rising. Unless you were the king, but even that was a bit sketchy these days.
"Right, right," Merlin replied affably, pulling to look Arthur in the eye. "Anything else we'll need?"
Arthur rolled his eyes and shifted where the sword rested on his hip. "Nothing for you to pack, Merlin. I've already sent word ahead for the quartermaster to gather together what we'll need. Now if you'll get to the stables before the sun sets..."
"Right on that!" Merlin called back, already half way out the door as Arthur shot him a sour look.
He had to roll his eyes as he caught Arthur putting the sword back the way it was before realizing that Merlin got that right the first time.
--
The ride took a better part of the day to reach the tiny village in question. If you could even call it a village. At least Ealdor had more than four houses and a well.
The noise from the horses drew the few men in the village out to greet them. They had the same oddly strained look about them that the people in Ealdor had when he'd returned to help against Kanen. Merlin bit his lip, looking around at the houses as Arthur dismounted from his horse to speak with the men.
"Your highness," one of them men said, causing the others to bow their heads politely, barely giving Merlin a second glance. Typical. "An honor."
He could see the faces of a few women and children peering out from the dim houses, curious and afraid as they watched their guests. The curiosity was to be expected, but the fear was distressing. Something more than just a simple wolf attack had to be going on to garner that sort of reaction from people out on the edge of the kingdom. They tended to be a bit more independent if how things were in Ealdor was anything to go by.
"Weren't expecting anyone, certainly not a prince," the man continued, clearing his throat nervously before he added a quick, "Sire."
Arthur held himself stiffly, chin raised and shoulders back as he also seemed to notice the looks they were getting from the houses. Somehow Merlin had the sneaking suspicion that he'd missed something terribly important this morning.
"Camelot protects its people," Arthur said as though there simply was no other option in his mind.
It's possible there wasn't. Merlin found that to be one of the reasons on a growing list of why Arthur would be a good king. Not that he'd had anywhere to go but up considering Merlin's first encounter with the man.
Merlin struggled down off his own horse, making a face as muscles strongly protested the movement. He really hated riding. Really, really hated it. He waved slightly at a small group of children in one of the houses before they disappeared in a hurry.
Right. That was... odd.
Arthur cleared his throat, distracting Merlin from his attempts to be friendly. "What exactly happened?"
"Yes, sire," the man--possibly the appointed spokesman of the village or just the one unlucky enough to have spoken first--said, nodding and looking away from Arthur before he gestured past the homes. "This way?"
Arthur nodded, taking the lead out of habit no doubt. "Come on, Merlin," he said, watching the rest of the faces disappear as they neared the houses. Arthur stared at the man leading them as if expecting him to offer up a name.
Which apparently unnerved the poor man, who looked over at Merlin for a moment as if for reassurance. Merlin offered a small nod, repressing the urge to sigh.
"Cadoc, m'lord."
"Tell me what happened, Cadoc," Arthur said again, making the slightest of faces at the smell as they neared what must have been where they kept the animals.
Merlin was nowhere near as successful at hiding his expression, having to cover his nose and mouth with his sleeve to keep from gagging. The ground was still stained red with blood, but that was to be expected after a wolf attack, right?
Perhaps not quite so much of the ground covered in it, though. There was nothing quite like the scent of slaughtered animals after they'd had a morning in the sun to really ripen like a horrible perfume. Flies still buzzed around the area, even though there weren't any creatures to feed on.
Not too far away there was a fire smoldering, black smoke wafting up from it as it slowly died down from what must have been one hell of a blaze. Merlin could just barely make out the shape of bones among the ashes. Well, that explained what happened to the killed sheep. Which was... odd if you asked Merlin. Not that he would claim to be an expert on wolves, but you'd think they would have dragged off their kill to finish eating it.
"More than just one was killed?" Arthur asked, watching the fire with keen interest.
Cadoc nodded once, leading them toward the fire. "All of them, sire. Every last one was slaughtered."
"By wolves," Arthur said, disbelief clear in his voice.
Opening his mouth as if to agree, Cadoc looked back toward the houses and fell silent instead. "I've never known a wolf to act like these beasts did," he finally said slowly.
Arthur shot a look over at Merlin, as though he expected something out of him. It left a small thread of panic in Merlin's mind, forcing him to wonder just what it was he wasn't catching. "Go on," he said, breaking his gaze away from Merlin to focus on Cadoc again.
"They stayed all through the night," the man said, walking the short distance back over toward the nearest house. "Just circling our homes and clawing to get in."
There were indeed marks on the outside of the house, down low where it would be expected from wolves. But there were also a few that were much higher up than strictly possible for a wolf. Merlin reached up to touch it, finding where it began just out of reach. Either it was monster of a wolf or something else entirely.
It was always just so nice to see he was right about Arthur dressing himself being a sign of horrible things to come. He was never going to be late ever again. And he'd find a way to lock Arthur's cupboard up in case the man woke up early.
"We will need lodging for the night," Arthur said, scanning the treeline just beyond where the village ended. It was far denser than what remained around Camelot and no doubt harder to navigate.
It would be an understatement to say Merlin wasn't looking forward to going in there.
Cadoc looked over to Merlin first, silently confirming that he heard Arthur correctly. "Of course, sire," he said, relief evident in his voice. "Thank you, sire."
And he was starting back to the very tiny group of villagers loitering just the other side of the houses to prepare things for a royal guest and share the good news.
Merlin watched as the relief seemed to spread among the people there like a ripple in a pool of water. He could hardly help but smile for a moment before the claw marks under his fingers still brought him back to reality. "Do you think it will return?"
Arthur sighed, crouching down for a moment to place his spread hand over a track in the mud. His hand only barely covered it. "We'll need bait to insure it does. Wolves... the tracks are too big for them and not the right shape for a bear."
"What do you think it is then?" Merlin asked, craning his neck to see them.
Arthur's head shot up, pinning Merlin in place with a look. "What do you think it is?"
"I--" Merlin fumbled for something to respond with other than 'very, very large wolves.' Because somehow he didn't think that was the answer Arthur wanted. And it wasn't exactly the most intelligent of responses. Somewhere, he was sure Gaius was despairing that he hadn't read up enough to know.
"Go unload the horses. We'll need to scout the area," Arthur said, looking away before Merlin could come up with a suitable response.
Merlin nodded and took the opportunity to flee for their supplies like the brave warlock he was.
--
With Authur off traipsing through the woods for any more signs of these giant wolves and 'bait,' Merlin was left to tether the horses to the house and make sure their lodging was set up.
Cadoc had, despite Merlin's protests, vacated his family from their home to allow Arthur--mostly just Arthur--and Merlin to use his home while they stayed with one of the neighbors. Royal guests got all sorts of special treatment, after all.
In the time patiently waiting for Arthur's return, Merlin was left strongly wishing he'd brought his spell book in case there was anything about evil wolf monsters. Really, really tall ones. Though, the odds of them being in there was rather slim. It almost made him long for the days when Gaius knew the answer or he could just ask the dragon what to do next.
Those days were in the past now.
Though thinking about it managed to pass the time nicely until Arthur finally reappeared, deer slung over his shoulders and very much not mauled by mysterious beasts.
As Merlin stood up to greet him, Arthur dropped the deer carefully by the closest house and nodded toward Cadoc. "Take what you need from it and divide it among the village. I'll need the rest for bait."
"Of course, sire," Cadoc said, picking the deer up to drag off for the women to butcher. Fall wasn't too far away and no one would refuse a gift like that. Well, no one in their right mind.
Merlin nodded at Arthur, letting himself smile just a bit at the generosity. "You didn't have to do that, you know."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Arthur replied dryly, wiping his hands off on his trousers. "Where are our rooms?"
"Room," Merlin corrected brightly. Because Arthur being a good person always put him in a better mood for some reason.
Arthur raised an eyebrow at that, waiting for Merlin to go on before he was forced to smack him upside the head.
"Cadoc very kindly offered us his home," Merlin informed him, leaning in conspiratorially.
The look of bemused annoyance didn't quite leave but Arthur did glance away. "There were more claw marks on the trees just past the treeline."
"Is that normal for wolves?" Merlin asked, following his gaze curiously.
"No."
Arthur took a breath before smacking Merlin in the chest with his crossbow. "Get ready. It's going to be a long night."
--
Once the villagers were all safely inside their homes and what was left of the deer placed in the middle of the paddock, Arthur and Merlin climbed up on top of the roof of the home they'd been given to use in order to wait for whatever was to be arriving.
Arthur with his crossbow and sword and Merlin with... Arthur's spare crossbow bolts.
"It's a bit cold," Merlin said as the silence stretched out between them. It was one of many reasons he was utter shite at this hunting thing.
Arthur clenched his jaw and that one little vein twitched again. "That's because you're a twig."
But he did tug his jacket around himself a bit more firmly before continuing. "Now, if you're done ruining the element of surprise..."
Merlin raised his hands in surrender, very pointedly closing his mouth to signal he was going to be quiet now. See how quiet he was?
Silent as a churchmouse, this man. Though, really now. Why on earth would Arthur take him along so much if he knew Merlin would just end up prattling on?
"What if they don't come back?" Merlin asked after seven entire minutes of silence. Possibly a new record.
Arthur shot him an exasperated look. "Merlin. Will you shut your mouth?"
Ducking his head, Merlin shrugged helplessly. "I'm just asking."
Really, it wasn't fair to tell him to be quiet when there were important questions on his mind.
Arthur took a deep breath through his nose, jaw still clenched in the effort to not shout. "Is it impossible for you to remain silent for any length of time?"
"Well, no--" Merlin started, frowning and not at all sulky about the accusation.
Really.
"Then why don't you?" Arthur snapped, not letting him finish. He snagged Merlin by the scarf, yanking him closer so he could continue in a quieter, but no less angry, tone. "Are you touched in the head?"
Merlin's eyes were wide at how very, very close Arthur now was. He could now see that there was color high on the other man's cheeks. Oh, Arthur really had to be upset now.
Even if he looked more focused than anything. Which was... odd, but not enough to make him think anything otherwise.
Merlin tried to look him in the eye, but found that a bit difficult with all that focus on him, so it skittered off to just past Arthur and toward the treeline. Where something moved.
Oh.
"Arthur--" he hissed, watching as a dark figure moved along the fence of the paddock. Behind them he could hear the horses moving nervously.
Arthur narrowed his eyes, focus dropping from Merlin's eyes downward for some reason. "Do I need to repeat myself?"
"The deer," Merlin managed to say as coherent thought fizzled out for some reason.
It returned, along with a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, again as Arthur dropped his hold on Merlin and twisted to look. That was... good.
Yes.
Merlin swallowed and tried to focus on the darks shapes as they moved along the fence soundlessly.
The horses continued to make spooked noises, tugging on their ties as if to run away from the predators. There was an answering snarl from below as one of the creatures loped over the fence and into the dimly lit paddock. Moonlight really didn't help much unless it was a very clear night and a very full moon.
Neither of which they had going for them at the moment. But it was enough to get an idea of what the beast looked like, at least.
It was a wolf of sorts. Well, parts of it did look wolf-like. In the same way a dragon looked like a lizard. Ignoring the fact that it was nearly twice the damned size of a wolf, there were more things just wrong with it. The hind legs were too long and the chest was too wide around to exist on anything natural. It didn't look like it was meant to walk on all four legs like it was doing now. Something was just... off about its cadence.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Arthur pick up the crossbow and take aim on it as more joined the first in the paddock to sniff at the deer carcass. Five total so far, circling and snarling both at each other and the bait.
It took a tense moment for one of them to finally snatch the spindly leg of the deer, yanking on it with a low growl before the rest joined in on tearing the remains to pieces. Not eating, just destroying it with a savage sort of thrill.
"Arthur," he whispered, hand on the man's shoulder carefully.
"I know," Arthur ground out, low and tense.
One of the creatures turned its head away from the others, ears perked and looking right at them. It bared its teeth, started for the building before a crossbow bolt hit it between the eyes and it fell lifeless to the ground.
It was enough to pull the attention of the others away from what was left of the deer. They remained still and silent, just looking up at the pair on the roof with eerily intelligent eyes. It made them seem more and more human with each passing second.
"The bolts, Merlin," came Arthur's urgent voice, forcing Merlin to look away from the creatures. That seemed to be all they needed to start toward the house, teeth bared as they passed the fallen of their number.
Wasn't that just perfect then? It couldn't possibly be a real adventure with Arthur without some horrible thing trying to eat at least one of them.
Shoving another bolt forward into Arthur's waiting hand, Merlin finally did the reasonable thing and stayed quiet. He could manage it from time to time. If he tried hard enough.
As Arthur took the time to carefully load the crossbow, below them the creatures paced along side the house wall. Each passing moment had them growing bolder in their attempts to reach the pair.
Merlin managed a quick glance over the edge to find one of the beasts propped up using the wall for support. It looked at him and dug its claws into the wall to attempt climbing up to get at him.
Right. That had been a horrible idea.
"Merlin," Arthur snapped, grabbing him by the shoulder to yank him away from the edge. "Is there a thought in that hollow shell of a skull of y--"
The rest of Arthur's no doubt witty insult was cut short as a paw, if one could even call it that, managed to catch the edge of the roof and dig into the straw like it was making a handhold to climb up with.
This close up, it was painfully clear that whatever this was, wasn't natural. Those 'paws' looked more like human hands than anything on an animal.
"That," Merlin said, scrambling back away from that hand. "That is not wolf."
"Really, Merlin?" Arthur asked, moving toward the edge like the madman he was. Aiming down at the thing, he fired without any sort of hesitation. There was a startled yelp and, soon after the hand disappeared, a dull thud.
Arthur shoved the crossbow at Merlin's chest, forcing him to juggle the bolts to keep from dropping them down onto their furry little friends. "What are you--" Merlin started to ask as Arthur pulled his sword. "Are you insane?!"
"You've got my back, right?" Arthur asked with a careless little grin as he perched on the edge of the roof.
And, before Merlin could reply, jumped down.
Because he was insane.
"Arthur!" Merlin damn near toppled down the roof after him. He just barely managed to catch himself before hitting the edge, by clinging rather pathetically to the tightly packed straw.
That, of course, meant the crossbow did fall to the ground out of reach. Because destiny loathed him for some reason.
And there were no conveniently placed branches or chandeliers that could happen to fall down and save Arthur in the nick of time either. So Merlin was plum out of ideas of how to 'watch Arthur's back' without being forced to do magic right in front of his nose. He may as well just wave about a festive flag proclaiming his abilities to the world without anything to explain away how he managed sans weapon.
Whatever decision he might have made on the matter went right out the window as the beast Arthur had wounded with the crossbow just moments earlier staggered back onto its feet behind the man. Merlin inhaled sharply, leaning further over the edge of the roof. He looked around for something to use and only found one of the bolts. That would just have to do for now.
Taking a deep, hopefully calming breath, he closed his eyes and concentrated. This would have a perfectly reasonable explanation sometime later. When Arthur was still alive.
The bolt was floating a bit in front of him when he opened his eyes, much to his satisfaction. A flick of his hand sent it flying toward the injured monster that was slowly coming at Arthur from behind. It was also just enough to send him off balance and tumbling down to the thankfully soft mud next to the crossbow.
"Merlin, you were supposed to stay on the roof!" Arthur snapped, not turning around as he moved to place himself between Merlin and the three creatures he'd been fending off.
"Um--" Look, Merlin was hardly in the best place to be responding to things that required a higher thought process than 'my arse is killing me' at the moment. He looked from Arthur to the creatures who were--staring right back at him as if Arthur wasn't even there. After a few disturbing seconds, they turned tail and fled the paddock, leaping over the small fence to return to the woods.
That had been decidedly unexpected.
Arthur kept his eyes trained on them until there was no sign of anything vaguely wolf-like nearby, then he turned back to Merlin. "...You broke my crossbow!" he said, mouth open in indignation.
Sure enough, when Merlin glanced over at it, the device was more than a bit mangled from its fall off the roof. "I didn't do it on purpose! There was a--thingy attacking you! It was right--" Merlin pointed over to where it had been when the bolt stuck it in the flank only it was not there anymore.
The only sign the creatures had even attacked was the one still laying in the middle of the paddock with a crossbow bolt in its skull.
"Only you would fall off a roof while firing a crossbow," Arthur informed him, shaking his head as he walked over toward the dead beast.
It was far too much of a relief that Arthur came up with the story for him. Enough so that Merlin flopped back in the mud, hoping that they could have a nice quiet evening of not moving now. Give him a chance to nurse his bruises and wounded ego.
"We have work to do, Merlin!"
Or not. Slave driver.
---
'Work to do' evidently meant 'prod the wolf-thing's corpse with my sword while giving Merlin confusing looks.' Like he expected Merlin's eyebrows to grow to Gaius' level so he could provide answers as to what they were.
Sadly nothing of the sort was forthcoming so, after a few awkward minutes, Arthur finally looked away and left Merlin to take care of the mess.
It was dawn by the time the wolf-thing and what was left of the deer were burned to ashes. The people didn't need to see the monster and panic, Arthur had said.
"We will need to find their den," Arthur informed a group of the village's men. "Before they can return tonight. And since someone--"
Merlin at least had the good grace to look sheepish at that. Even if he was struggling to keep his eyes open.
"--broke my crossbow, I will need use of whatever bow you may have."
"Of course, your highness," Cadoc replied quickly. Because not everyone had Merlin's casual disregard for rank and protocol.
After a curt nod to the gathered men, Arthur walked to where Merlin was propped up against the wall. And very rudely kicked his boot to get him up and on his feet. "Stop lazing about."
"People do need sleep occasionally, you know," came Merlin's response, interrupted by a exaggerated yawn.
"You can sleep later," Arthur replied even as Merlin took note of the bags under Arthur's eyes. "We have to get moving."
Merlin made a face, rubbing the back of his neck. "And I wasn't lazing about, Arthur."
"You were if I say you were," Arthur replied, hand on his sword as he watched the treeline.
Neither the bickering, nor the very familiar use of Arthur's given name escaped the notice of the villagers. They made themselves scarce, not wanting to cross the crown price like his servant was so willing to.
"Well, that's not fair," Merlin replied.
"Part of being your prince, Merlin; I don't have to be... fair," Arthur trailed off, drawing his sword as he made for the trees suddenly.
Merlin hurried on after him, eyes widening as he caught sight of the figure dragging itself out from the underbrush. In the daylight it looked more like something from one of Gaius' grimoires than a real living creature.
The only thing that kept Arthur from driving his sword into it then and there was the noise it made.
"Ppppleeease," it whined, dragging the limbs injured by crossbow bolts. It wasn't made for speech and that much was clear in the struggle to form words.
Arthur took a step back, one hand on Merlin's chest to keep him away. "What?"
"Pppleeease," it whined again. "Kkkill mmme."
"Did it just... er... talk?" Merlin asked, not really cowering on behind Arthur like he was supposed to be. Not exactly the best servant, after all.
Arthur's fingers dug into his shirt, twisting the loose fabric around Merlin's chest almost painfully tight. "Will you shut up?" Arthur hissed, shoving him back with force now.
Enough to cause Merlin to stumble and nearly fall.
Merlin opened his mouth to object to the shove, but never got past the first syllable of Arthur's name as the creature whined again. Pitiful and low like--like an animal. With horribly human eyes this close up. Begging for the mercy of a sword. "Pppleease?"
"Arth--" Merlin started, going to put his hand on the man's shoulder before a near violent shrug forced him to reconsider.
"Go tend to the horses," Arthur said, voice going rough and harsh. He didn't even turn to see Merlin gearing up to argue the point before adding, "Now, Merlin."
Merlin took a step back, looking from Arthur to the creature and then back again. The last time he'd seen Arthur this wound up, bad things had happened. Bad, attempted patricidal things. And, if how tightly Arthur was gripping his sword was any measure to go by, this was almost certainly one of those occasions.
Swallowing back his apprehension, Merlin nodded. "Yes, sire," he mumbled, turning and fleeing from the scene. All while feeling like a complete and utter coward as he did.
The silence was the worst part about it. And the waiting. The silence and the waiting, Merlin decided as he more petted Arthur's horse than saw to its care. Someone in the village had been kind enough to look after the pair of them sometime this morning, so there was hardly any work to be done.
Arthur had been so damned angry at the prospect of magic doing that to a person. The same sort of barely controlled anger he'd had after that meeting with Morgause and learning how his mother died. It was showing up more and more often in Arthur when dealing with magic these days. Each time causing the pit in Merlin's stomach to grow as if every lie and half truth he told was suddenly under scrutiny.
"He'll calm down," he assured the horse. And himself, but the horse was a better listener. "He just needs a bit of alone time."
Instead of some stirring words of comfort, the horse tried to eat his scarf in response. Typical.
Merlin tugged on the fabric, shaking his head in disappointment at the horse. There might have even been an eyebrow raise in there as well. "Now, we've talked about this," Merlin chided. "My scarf isn't for eating, no matter how hard you try."
He turned around to see if he could dig up a treat from the saddlebags in order to distract it and promptly almost ran into Arthur's chest.
"Arthur!" he said, stifling the small shriek of surprise that really wanted out. "I didn't hear you."
The obvious joke about ears wasn't made, nor did Arthur roll his eyes as Merlin laughed at himself with growing nervousness.
"What are they?" he asked instead, jaw set and expression devoid of emotion. The faint squeak of leather drew Merlin's eyes down to the sword still tightly clutched in Arthur's hand.
"I--what?" Merlin asked, forcing his gaze up to Arthur's face and away from the sword. Looking at the sword was a bad idea. Very, very... oh god, he was looking again!
Arthur took a step forward, so Merlin took a step back. Like this was some sort of dance. This, of course trapped Merlin between the horse and the pillar of wood holding up the roof.
"Don't play dumb," Arthur said through clenched teeth. His voice was tightly controlled and promising an explosion if Merlin didn't respond correctly.
Merlin bumped into the horse, putting his hand on its back like a lifeline as panic tried to crawl up his throat and have him blurt out unfortunate things. Like how he was rather fond of watching Arthur's arse when he wore his hunting leathers for what were purely aesthetic reasons.
He swallowed that back, trying to smile in a way he hoped was appeasing. "There is no playing of anything here," he said, squeaking like a boy before he cleared his his throat to get rid of that. "No playing here at all."
And Merlin was once again helpless but to look down at Arthur's hand and the sword therein. He only looked back up when the man spoke again. "I won't ask this again, Merlin. What are they?"
"I--I--" Merlin shook his head, not sure there even was a right answer for Arthur. "Wolf-men?" he ventured after the silence stretched out.
Arthur's face went red and he inhaled sharply. Wrong answer, it seemed.
"I don't know, I don't know!" he added quickly, feeling that panic crop up again. "I'm not Gaius!"
Arthur's hand came up fast enough to spook the horse into abandoning Merlin, slamming into the solid wood with a dull thud. "Don't lie to me!" Arthur shouted, losing any attempt at control or quiet.
Merlin pressed himself against the pillar, wishing very hard that he could be anywhere else but by a madman wielding a sword. "I'm not lying," he said, shaking his head as if to prove his point.
"Do you think I'm an idiot?" Arthur snapped, crowding into Merlin's space even more than before.
Only when he was being an absolute prig about things, came the thought completely unbidden. It was possibly the least helpful thing to think at that moment. So, Merlin was left stammering nonsensical words in response, frozen in place like one of the hares Arthur hunted. And feeling very much the same as one at this point.
"I am neither blind, nor deaf," Arthur hissed. "Did you really think that I wouldn't figure it out?"
Eyes going wide, Merlin gave serious consideration to running right then and there. Destiny be damned. Arthur knew about him. Oh, god he was a dead man. That would explain all the expectant looks, the unbearable mood swings when the subject of magic came up and... and.. his head was still attached to his shoulders. Why was his head still attached to his shoulders if Arthur was this livid about it?
The thought must have shown up on his face as Arthur looked down at the sword in his hand and then back at a now wincing Merlin.
With a more than welcome eyeroll, Arthur pulled back enough to sheath the sword. "If I didn't do it when I found out, why would I do it now?" he asked, more annoyed than homicidal at the moment.
Merlin opened and closed his mouth in a failed attempt to try speaking again. It was more than a bit of a shock to find out that Arthur knew and hadn't--wasn't going to do anything about it. "Ah... when?" he managed after a few false starts.
"Balinor," Arthur replied shortly, moving away from Merlin to pace along the entrance to the small stable. "I'm surprised all of Camelot didn't hear you and him talking."
At the mention of his father, Merlin very suddenly found interest in the floor. It was fascinating, all that dirt and straw there. "That long?"
And Arthur was now helping the inspection. If the attention he was paying the walls was anything to go by. "Yes, Merlin," he ground out in a manner not befitting a prince. "That long."
"Oh." Merlin just let that sink in for a moment before turning his attention away from the floor and back fully on Arthur. "Why?" he found himself asking against all logic and what passed for good judgment with him. Somewhere, Gaius was despairing in him.
Arthur's shoulders tensed and pulled back as he lifted his chin just a touch higher before meeting Merlin's eyes. "We were already asking a sorcerer for help," he replied with a sort of stiff formality to his tone. "And--"
Was that hesitation?
"--you're an idiot."
Wait, what?
"What?" Merlin asked, looking at Arthur like he'd grown a second head and that head was loudly declaring jousting to be a complete waste of time.
Arthur rolled his eyes, slowly relaxing from that tense state he'd been in before. Apparently all it took was some good old mocking of Merlin to do. He'd have to keep that in mind. "You're an idiot," Arthur said in a slow, deliberate tone.
"I got that part," Merlin assured him. "I'm just--not too sure what it has to do with, er, all this."
Not that he really was an idiot, mind. He just didn't think arguing the point would help the discussion. And it was only sometimes he did idiotic things. A lot of the time. Okay, so the whole thing was debatable, alright?
"You're obviously the worst sorcerer in all of history," Arthur replied loftily. "And you're--" He made a face like this pained him to say. "--still the same stupidly brave person who has saved my life on occasion."
He cleared his throat, looking away.
"Perhaps more than I know of," Arthur added after a moment. "But you're still a complete idiot."
Merlin nodded slowly in agreement, mostly because he wasn't all that sure how to respond to that. "Thank you?"
"You're welcome," came the automatic reply, born more out of training in proper manners that real sentiment. Arthur paused, giving Merlin one hell of a confused look. One that said he hadn't the faintest clue how the conversation got to this point, but he was blaming Merlin for it regardless. These sort of things tended to be Merlin's fault, after all.
Which meant the status quo was reestablished and all was right with the world for that moment. It was almost enough to make Merlin relax and stop clinging to the pillar.
"Right." Arthur cleared his throat and turned his attention back to the wall. It was enough to make Merlin peer over that way as well to make sure nothing was written there. Just in case. "Now, what are those things?"
The looking was abandoned in favour of thumping his head against the pillar in frustration at that. "I already said that I don't know," Merlin reminded him.
How was it that he was the dim one here?
After nearly braining himself, he looked up to find Arthur giving him an almost pitying look. "You really are the worst sorcerer ever, aren't you?"
Merlin opened his mouth, squawking in outrage at that slur against his no longer secret abilities. "I am not!" he replied primly. "I'll have you know I'm actually a rather good one. Legendary, in fact."
Okay, so that last bit was a bit of a stretch. He was at the point where he was pretty sure the dragon had just been blowing smoke up his arse about the whole 'legendary future' in store. Legendary futures shouldn't include washing someone else's socks, after all.
"Of course you are," Arthur replied with that smug look that always made Merlin consider doing something rash. Like turn him into a newt. "Do you have a guess at least?"
"A guess?" Merlin asked, looking away as the image of Freya flitted through his mind. Those eyes on the creature. And the attempts to talk... "A curse, maybe?"
"A curse," Arthur repeated, actually seeming to be giving Merlin's opinion due consideration.
Something small and all together girlish in the back of Merlin's mind squealed with joy at that. It was probably for the best that he never, ever vocalize that. If he wanted to keep from dying of mortification, that is.
Merlin nodded encouragingly. "I could--talk to some of the villagers and see if there's any sort of local legends of vengeful wizards or creatures that do that to a man," he added quickly.
"Do that," Arthur replied with a nod. "I'll work on fortifying the village for when they return."
With that, Arthur raised his hand to clap Merlin on the shoulder, only to find the angle a bit too awkward to accomplish. Which meant they were stuck in an odd sort of limbo where Merlin tried offering his hand for a shake or--dare he hope for it--a hug of some sort. It ended with Arthur nodding once again and forcing his hand back down at his side.
Which was a bit awkward.
"Don't just stand there," Arthur snapped, not about to let something petty like that get in his way. "Get to it!"
Continued here...