Arthur Pendragon and the Philosopher's Sword Part 4
MASTERPOST, PART ONE, PART TWO
PART THREE
Part Four
A few weeks later Arthur was sitting in the Valerian College hall trying to study with Merlin. Trying to study, because Merlin kept distracting him by licking his lips, or getting ink on his hands, or doing other things that drew Arthur's attention away from his essay on the proper use of hogswart, and onto Merlin.
He'd only written two paragraphs when he heard a large screech, and Merlin’s owl Archimedes came flying in through one of the open windows. The bird flew right Merlin and, Arthur was worried they were going to collide, and there would be an accident of bones, feathers and blood. However, Archimedes just flew straight past, dropping a scroll directly in front of Merlin.
“Thank you,” Merlin called, as Archimedes looped round and flew out of the window he'd just flown in.
Merlin picked up the scroll and untied the red ribbon around it.
“What is it?” Arthur asked.
Carefully Merlin unrolled the scroll. “It's a letter from my parents,” he groaned. “I did promise I'd write to them but...”
“You forgot?”
“Yes.”
“What does it say?”
“I'll let you hear,” Merlin said. “Stefn,” he whispered.
Suddenly, the scroll leapt out of Merlin's hands to hang in mid-air. Then a woman’s voice began to speak.
“Dear Merlin,
Your father and I thought you wouldn't have had time to write to us, so we're writing to you. Gaius tells us you're doing well in your lectures. I hope you're listening to him. He says you're helping to tutor one of your fellow students. He didn't tell me who it was. I hope you've not got into too much trouble with the knights; I know how they can be. Your father says I should tell you Anglides has hatched another clutch last week, six eggs.
I'm sure you are well and very busy. Don't forget to wash your clothes once in a while.
Lots of love, Mum.”
As the voice finished speaking, the scroll rolled itself up and floated gently down onto the table.
“That was your mother’s voice?” Arthur asked. “I recognise it.”
“Yeah.”
“You should write back to her. If only to tell her my name.”
Merlin smiled. “Oh, you think she'd be interested in that?”
“Yes, Merlin, I think the name of your boyfriend might be interesting to her.”
Merlin took out a fresh piece of paper and started to write. “Aren't you going to write to your father?” he asked.
“Merlin, the last time I saw my father he was angrier than I’ve ever seen him. He never wanted me to come here, do you think he'd want a letter from me?”
“He might want to know you're safe,” Merlin suggested.
“I don’t have an owl to deliver it.”
“I can lend you Archimedes.”
“I wouldn’t know what to write,” Arthur admitted. Where would he actually begin? He was using magic, training with knights, and he'd acquired a boyfriend, all within a few weeks of being at Camelot.
“Ask Morgana,” Merlin replied. Then he started doing that lip thing again.
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The next day Arthur tracked Morgana down as she was leaving one of Nimueh's lectures.
“Arthur! To what do I owe the pleasure? Want me to help you with your homework? Oh, wait, you've got Merlin for that.”
Ignoring the jibe Arthur launched straight into his question. “Do you write to Father?”
Morgana looked away. “Sometimes,” she said. “Nothing much, just enough to remind him I'm happy and where I belong.” She turned back to him. “Why?”
“Merlin was writing to his parents yesterday, and I thought perhaps Father deserves to know what I'm doing.”
“It won't change the way he feels about this place,” Morgana said, sadly. “Trust me, I've tried.”
“But he still deserves to know, doesn't he?”
“I suppose he does. Just write what you feel, Arthur.”
“Is there an easy way to tell your father you're a gay wizard, with a boyfriend, and that you're enjoying being at a magical university?”
Morgana smiled. “Sometimes being honest is all you can do.”
“Thank you,” Arthur said.
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That evening Arthur sat in this chambers and wrote to his father. It was an awkward letter, and several times he screwed the thing up and threw it across the room. Every time he did so Merlin picked up the paper, and used magic to smooth it out so it was as good as new.
“You can do this, Arthur,” he said, as he set the paper back down. “Just tell him what you want him to know.”
“Even if he wouldn't want to know about it?”
Merlin nodded. “Especially if he wouldn't want to know about it.”
Finally, after a lot of frustration, Arthur was happy with what he'd written. Merlin called Archimedes and the letter was entrusted to the owl's care.
“Could you tell him to put it through the letterbox?” Arthur asked, remembering the dramatic letter delivery Merlin had had.
“He will do, Arthur,” Merlin assured him.
Watching Archimedes take off Arthur wondered if his father had really thought about him. If he had thought about him, or wondered what he was doing. His father must have some idea about Camelot, surely his mother would have told him something. Then again, perhaps his father hadn't wanted to know, given Arthur's mother had had to give up practising magic when she married him.
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Arthur occasionally thought of his father over the next few weeks, though he didn't receive any reply to his letter. He didn't dwell on it much as there were other distractions to keep him busy. Soon, October was nearly over and Halloween fever began to sweep Camelot.
It was a new experience for Arthur. His father had never been fond of Halloween, probably because of the suggestion of magic, witches and wizards. Morgana had often snuck out of the house when she was old enough to go to parties, but Arthur had never been that brave.
“What on earth are you doing?” Arthur asked, as Gilli and Elena rushed into the hall after lectures with several pumpkins and began putting them on the table.
“Pumpkin carving,” Merlin said. “You've never done that?”
“No, Merlin,Ffather didn't like anything to do with Halloween. Especially not pumpkins.”
“Nothing? No pumpkins? No apple bobbing? No trick or treating?”
“Nothing. Morgana made a witch hat at school once. He confiscated it and burnt it in the fire.”
Merlin looked shocked. “Oh, Arthur.” Then his expression softened. “So, this is your first Halloween?”
“I suppose it is.”
Merlin grinned. “Then we should make it a memorable one.”
Arthur wasn't sure whether to be pleased or worried by that. Especially when Merlin decided to announce it to their friends. Elena and Gilli immediately placed a couple of pumpkins in front of him.
“You want me to carve these?”
Elena grinned. “It'll be fun! Now take your wand and start carving.”
She handed him a long stick that Arthur supposed could pass as a wand. Wands were used for very particular sorts of magic; magic writing, magic tattooing and, apparently, pumpkin carving.
“What do I do?” he asked, staring at the wood in his hand.
“You use the wand to trace the design on the pumpkin,” Gilli said, helpfully. He picked up his wand and carefully drew a face onto the pumpkin. The lines glowed a bright gold. When he had finished he spoke. “áwréon”
In a moment the gold lines seemed to grow brighter and more intense as they seemed to burn parts of the pumpkin away. The glow then began to die down, leaving only the design. Oddly the edges of the voids weren't burnt, but looked sealed, as if the pumpkin had grown that way. The pumpkin also appeared to be hollowed out neatly and cleanly.
“That's surprisingly not messy,” Arthur said.
“Why don't you try, Arthur?” Elena asked.
“I'm not...” Arthur’s cheeks flushed. He hadn't managed magic in front of people yet. Though perhaps the wand would help him. Gingerly, he raised the wand and placed the tip against the pumpkin. Taking a deep breath he tried to copy the movements he'd seen Gilli make. He moved his wand across the surface but no lines, glowing or otherwise, appeared.
He sighed, and lowered the wand. “Apparently pumpkin carving isn't one of my talents,” he said, smiling weakly.
Then he felt a warm hand on his and he knew Merlin was standing behind him. He kept his hold on Arthur's hand and encouraged him to raise it again. That warm, tingling feeling began to spread through Arthur's body. He and Merlin had never done this, had Merlin try and help him with his magic in public.
“Try it now, Arthur,” Merlin whispered.
Merlin continued to hold Arthur's hand, just lightly, following Arthur's movements with the wand. This time a gold line appeared as he drew across the surface and Arthur felt a little giddy. He was well aware everyone would be watching him, he'd never successfully performed magic in front of his peers before.
Merlin kept hold of his wrist as he spoke the spell, and part of the pumpkin burned away. Only then did Merlin let go, although his hand lingered near Arthur's. Arthur was pleased at how it had turned out, after all he'd never carved a pumpkin before, magically or otherwise.
“Why has it got three eyes?” Gilli asked.
Arthur felt slightly embarrassed but before he could reply Merlin spoke up.
“It's obvious,” he said. “It's scarier that way.”
Various other craft activities seemed to be taking place along with pumpkin carving, in order to decorate every building across the Camelot campus. Morgana persuaded Arthur and Merlin to help her with the decorations for the main hall. Arthur still wasn't sure how she had managed to persuade them to give up their free time.
His sister’s persuasive talents meant he ended up folding triangles of orange and black paper to help create bunting to hang all around the main hall. He and Merlin weren't the only victims, however. Morgana had managed to persuade most of the knights along with Gwen, Morgause, and a few other friends from the Seer's Club.
“Isn't there an easier way to do this?” Arthur asked, his fingers hurting from all the folding. “Like using magic?”
“Some things require a more handmade touch,” Morgana said.
“Is that why you're touching them up with magic?” Arthur asked.
Morgana glared and Merlin stifled a laugh.
Across from them Gwen and the knights were busy folding too.
“Did you give Arthur his sword?” Lancelot asked Gwen.
She elbowed him before turning apologetically to Arthur. “It was supposed to be a surprise,” she said. “It was going to be a Halloween present but as Lancelot has spoiled it...” She turned and smiled at Lancelot and he smiled back.
Gwen got up and went over to a corner of the room. She came back carrying something long and wrapped in cloth. “Here you are,” she said, handing it to Arthur.
Arthur took the bundle. “Thank you,” he said, gratefully.
“Well, come on, unwrap it,” Merlin said, sounding more excited than Arthur.
Arthur was certainly excited. He'd been training with the knights for weeks, and now he finally had a sword of his own. No more need to borrow one, he would finally fit in with them in a way he hadn't before.
He'd known Gwen had been working on the sword. She'd taken measurements, and asked him quite personal questions, all of which had been supposed to help in forging the sword.
Carefully, Arthur began to unwrap the layers of coarse, white cloth. As he did so the shape of the sword started to become clear. Finally, it was revealed and the bright metal gleamed, even in the dim light of the hall. Arthur grasped its handle and held it up.
“Wow,” Merlin said, quietly.
“How does it feel?” Gwaine asked.
Standing back from everyone Arthur slowly moved the sword through the air. It felt different to the ones he'd been practising with, lighter, better, as if it belonged to him. He could feel his magic coursing through his body and into the sword itself.
“Perfect,” he said, staring at it, and watching how fluid his movements were. “This is amazing, Gwen, thank you.”
Gwen just blushed and bowed her head. “I'm glad you like it.”
Given the choice Arthur would have kept swinging his sword about until his arm fell off, but at that point Morgause came up to Morgana.
“Have you seen Mordred?” she asked.
Morgana looked concerned. “Is he not here yet?”
“No, sister, he isn't. He was supposed to be here half an hour ago.”
“Mordred?” Arthur asked. He hadn't had much interaction with the strange boy, even though they shared the same lectures.
“Of course. He's a freshman isn't he, Arthur?” Morgana asked. “He's Morgause's cousin,” she explained.
“I promised I would keep an eye on him,” Morgause said. “Unfortunately he wasn't sorted into Sage College.”
“I'm sure the knights will look for him, won't you?” Gwen asked.
“Of course,” Lancelot replied, standing up. “He can't have gone far.”
“Maybe Arthur should go and look for him?” Gwaine suggested. “He can put that sword to good use.”
“I'll go with him,” Merlin offered, scrambling to his feet.
“Are you sure?” Morgana asked. She looked worried.
“Of course,” Arthur said, confidently. “He won't have got far. We'll head towards Thyme College and we'll probably meet him on the way.”
“Don't get lost,” Morgana said, firmly.
Arthur smiled. “We'll be fine. Come on, Merlin.”
As they left the hall Merlin whispered, “Do you know where we're going?”
“I was hoping you'd know,” Arthur replied.
They wandered through the corridors. Several times Arthur stopped in his tracks, as he noticed something out of the corner of his eye, and raised his sword, ready to defend himself and Merlin, until he realised what he had been unnerved by had been a pumpkin with a candle inside and some fluttering bunting.
“You don't have to try and attack everything,” Merlin teased.
“It's a good idea to be cautious, Merlin.”
“So, if a wall moves, are you going to try and slice it with your sword?”
“No wall would dare challenge me,” Arthur replied.
They wandered on for ages but the corridors were more or less deserted, everyone obviously preparing for the Halloween celebrations. It felt eerily quiet, even more so considering Arthur had only just got used to the hallways and corridors crammed with bodies and noise.
“It's spooky, isn't it?” Merlin whispered..
Arthur nodded. “Not scared, Merlin?”
“With my big, scary, knight-in-training boyfriend with me? Of course not.”
They heard the sound of running footsteps and Arthur saw a figure further down the corridor, coming toward them very quickly. Automatically, he raised his sword.
“Who is it?” he asked.
“I don't know,” Merlin replied.
As the figure came into view Arthur recognised the small stature. “Mordred?”
There was no answer, but now he was close enough for Arthur to be sure it was him. “Mordred?” he called.
“Are you all right?” Merlin shouted from beside Arthur.
Mordred rushed into Arthur, hard enough to make him stumble back. The boy was panting hard and looked very frightened. Just looking at him made Arthur feel queasy; his temples hurt.
“Professor Muirden is in trouble,” Mordred said, trying to catch his breath. “There's a cockatrice in the dungeons. He went down to deal with it but I think it has him trapped. I heard it and came to get help.”
“What's a cockatrice?” Arthur asked.
“They're usually found in forests,” Merlin explained. “They're vicious creatures with very pwoerful venom.”
“Great,” Arthur said. “Maybe I should have paid more attention in Professor Mandrake's lectures.”
“Professor Muirden needs help!” Mordred said, worriedly. “You have to help him.”
Arthur should have said he and Merlin weren't really equipped for fending off a vicious, venomous creature, but Mordred was looking at him hopefully. “You go and fetch the knights,” Arthur said. “Merlin and I will see what the situation is.”
Mordred nodded and then set off running down the corridor.
“We should wait for them,” Merlin said, concerned.
“If we do that the Professor might end up dead,” Arthur pointed out. “We can't leave him.”
Merlin looked serious. “I know.”
They headed down to the dungeons. It was a part of the castle rarely visited, by anyone Merlin had teased Arthur with stories about students being imprisoned down there for cheating. Of course no one actually knew what the dungeons were for, if they had ever been used that way. The only one that would know was Professor Kilgharrah, and he never told anyone.
The farther they ventured down into the dungeons, the more the atmosphere changed. It was dark and felt slightly chilly, as if there was a cool breeze blowing through the old tunnels.
“We need some light,” Arthur said, as he strained to see where they were going. The floor was uneven and sandy and he worried about stumbling.
“Fromum feohgiftum on fæder bearme,” Merlin whispered, and an orb of blue light hovered above them, bathing the stone walls with an eerie glow.
“Thank you,” Arthur said.
They went further on.
“I can't hear anything,” Merlin whispered. “What if we're...?”
“We'll keep going,” Arthur replied. “It can't be much further.”
They were approaching another set of stairs when they heard someone cry out.
“Professor?” Arthur called.
There was another cry but it was indistinct, the sound echoing, bouncing off the walls, making it difficult to tell the direction it had come from.
“Come on,” Arthur said, heading off down the stairs. Merlin followed closely behind.
Arthur's head was really pounding now, he told himself it was just the pressure of being thrown into a life threatening situation. He held his sword even more tightly, gripping it so the tendons in his hand hurt until he relaxed his grip a little.
As they reached the bottom of the stairs they could see Professor Muirden backed against a wall, crouching, and throwing out small fireballs, that seemed to be doing little good. Before him was a large creature, lizard-like creature, with a large fan of spiked protrusions on its back. It reminded Arthur of the models of dinosaurs he had seen in museums as a child.
“Is that the cockatrice?” Arthur asked.
“Yeah. Don't let it touch you. The spikes and claws are venomous.”
They advanced toward it quietly, although Arthur was acutely aware of the sound of their footsteps on the dirt floor. Each step produced a crunching sound as they trod over small stones and sand.
“You distract it,” Arthur whispered. “I'll try and injure it with my sword.”
“How do I distract it?” Merlin hissed.
“I don’t know...with magic?”
“I hope this works,” Merlin muttered.
The creature was so fixated on its prey that it didn't see them coming toward it. Arthur thought that if they approached from behind they might have the advantage of surprise. It was hissing loudly, and it was clear Professor Muirden was injured as blood had soaked through the part of his cloak covering his arm.
“Now, Merlin,” Arthur said, raising his sword in readiness.
“Ástríce,” Merlin said, forcefully. He formed a fire ball and aimed it at the back of the creature's head.
It hit with complete accuracy, and the creature spun around to face Merlin. Its eyes glittered as Arthur stepped forward, preparing to attack. Merlin's blue orb of light was the only source of illumination in the tunnel, apart from a few small pieces of wood that had been set alight by the professor's attempts to fend the creature off.
As the cockatrice approach, its focus was on Merlin but Arthur was not going to let it hurt him. Before the creature could get within range to swipe at Merlin, Arthur swung his sword at it. Was unable to land a blow on the creature as his sword went whistling past. The noise was enough to get the attention of the cockatrice, and it now turned toward Arthur.
It was raising it's clawed foot to swipe at him when Merlin, still a little out of range, aimed another fireball. Now the creature was faced with two, equally distracting targets, confused about which to go for. Arthur swiped at it with his sword again as he saw the creature turn toward Merlin, but again it was just out of reach. He swung his sword around a few times to keep the creature’s attention on him, and away from Merlin.
There wasn't much room to manoeuvre in the small space. Merlin was aiming another fireball when Arthur acted purely on instinct. Again it was as if he knew what was happening before it happened. He could see the creature rear up and come close enough to hit Merlin but as it raised itself for the strike Arthur used his sword to finally land a blow on the creature’s foreleg.
Merlin was startled and stumbled back, almost tripping. With his concentration briefly lost he struggled to maintain the light orb. Arthur knew it was now or never; the creature was writhing in pain and lashing out blindly. Arthur waited for his moment, and, as the creature reared up again, its soft underbelly was exposed.
Arthur didn't hesitate as he pushed his sword as deep as he could into the creature, and then jerked it to one side as he pulled it out, slicing open the cockatrice's belly. With one last howl it fell to the ground. Then it was still as dark blood trickled out across the floor.
Wiping his brow, Arthur found he was breathing hard. He turned to check on Merlin who was standing off to one side, looking down at the slain creature.
“Are you all right?” Arthur asked.
Merlin nodded. “You killed it,” he said, looking at the body. “You did it.”
“I did,” Arthur replied, half disbelieving it himself.
It was then that they noticed Professor Muirden had slipped to the ground and wasn't. They went over together and Merlin bent down, pressing his fingers to the Professor's neck.
“Is he alive?”
Merlin nodded. “We need to get him to Gaius,” he said. “If he's been scratched he'll have venom in his body. He needs the antidote.”
Arthur helped Merlin haul the Professor to his feet and they made their way up the stairs. Merlin used a spell to lighten the Professor’s body so he was easier to carry as he was unconscious, and otherwise a dead weight. It wasn't easy getting him out of the dungeon area and into the corridors.
By the time they made it back into the main part of the castle, the others were waiting for them: Morgana, Gwen, Lancelot, Gwaine and Mordred, along with Professors Gaius and Nimueh. As soon as Arthur and Merlin came into view they rushed forward to help them with Professor Muirden.
“He was scratched by a cockatrice,” Merlin said, as Gaius unfastened the Professor's cloak and robes to reveal a deep, nasty looking wound.
“A cockatrice?” Nimueh said, looking concerned. “Where is it?”
“Arthur killed it,” Merlin said
Nimueh turned to Arthur. “You killed a cockatrice, Mr Pendragon?”
Arthur nodded. “I couldn’t have done it without Merlin,” he replied.
Arthur didn't know if it was the adrenaline or the effort he'd expended, but he wasn't feeling great. “I think I need a lie down,” he said.
“I'll need to speak with you both later,” Gaius said, as Lancelot and Gwaine helped carry Professor Muirden.
“Of course,” Arthur replied.
He and Merlin headed back to their chambers, and collapsed together onto Arthur's bed.
“Next time,” Arthur said, quietly, “perhaps we should wait for help.”
Merlin put his arms around Arthur and snuggled into him. “Yeah, but you were brilliant.”
“So were you.”
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A couple of hours later Gaius came to see them. Arthur was feeling much better, and Merlin had even managed to get the dried cockatrice blood off Arthur's sword.
“Because I don't want Gwen to yell at you,” Merlin had said.
“At least this got us out of bunting making,” Arthur had replied.
Now, feeling refreshed they were anxious to hear what Gaius had to say.
“Is Professor Muirden all right?” Merlin asked.
“He will recover, but it will take time,” Gaius said, solemnly. “We may never know why he was down there. The venom can affect the brain.”
“How did the cockatrice get in?” Arthur asked.
“We're looking into it,” Gaius said, quickly. “In the meantime Professor Kilgharrah wants to see the both of you.”
“Professor Kilgharrah the dragon?” Arthur asked, to make sure. He hadn't seen him since their arrival at Camelot. The Professor didn't teach lessons, and no student was ever heard to visit him.
“Yes, come with me, please.”
Dutifully Arthur and Merlin followed Gaius through the castle. They ended up in a place that Arthur didn't even vaguely recognise. Gaius tapped a blank wall, and a door way opened to reveal a set of stairs leading down, very like the ones leading down to the dungeons. Torches were positioned along each wall, lighting the way.
“Where are we?” Arthur whispered to Merlin.
“Professor Kilgharrah lives under the castle,” Merlin replied. “In a cave.”
Well, he was a dragon Arthur supposed. He was hardly going to be living in a house.
They reached the bottom of the stairs, and went rough several doorways, before finding themselves in a vast underground cavern, easily large enough to fit the whole castle inside it. They were standing on a relatively small ledge, with Professor Kilgharrah perched on a rock across from them.
“It is good to see you again,” he said, his voice echoing and rumbling through the empty space. “Gaius, you may leave us.”
Gaius nodded. “I''ll wait for you at the top of the stairs,” he said.
With Gaius gone Arthur felt rather awkward under the dragon's gaze. Those bright gold eyes seemed to hold centuries of knowledge.
“I believe you saved the life of Professor Muirden. That was a brave act to undertake.”
“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” Merlin said, cheerful, and not the least bit intimidated.
“We had to do something,” Arthur agreed.
“You must be careful of both your friends and your foes,” Kilgharrah said. “Your destiny is a great one but you must be cautious. Let your hearts guide you.”
Arthur exchanged a glance with Merlin. He was pretty sure Merlin hadn’t understood the dragon's words either. “Thank you,” they said in unison.
“I won't keep you from the celebrations any longer. We shall meet again soon.”
With a few powerful beats of his wings Professor Kilgharrah flew up from the the rock, and off into the dark recesses of the cave.
“Well, that was interesting,” Arthur observed.
“You never get straight answers from a dragon,” Merlin replied. “My father always said they speak in riddles to annoy people.”
Arthur didn't feel annoyed as much as puzzled by what the Professor had meant. “We should head back,” he said.
As he had promised, Gaius was waiting at the top of the stairs. He escorted them to the Great Hall, where the rest of the students were already gathered. The bunting had been completed and hung up, along with traditional decorations of skeletons, and witches on broomsticks. Carved pumpkins, glowing with light, floated about the room, and there were several large cauldrons positioned at various points from which a few of the older students were ladling punch. At least Arthur hoped it was punch.
“Arthur! Merlin!” came a shout and Arthur saw Elena and Gilli waving at them.
They headed over to their friends.
“We heard you killed a cockatrice, Arthur,” Elena said, excitedly. “Is it true?”
“Yes,” Arthur admitted. “But I couldn't have done without Merlin.”
“It was nothing really,” Merlin said, shyly. “Arthur did all the hard work.”
“Merlin distracted it. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him and his magic.”
“You saved Professor Muirden's life,” Gilli said “You should be proud. Both of you.”
There was moment of silence and Arthur wasn't really sure what to say. “Thank you,” he said, finally.
“Now, who wants some punch?” Elena asked.
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The next morning Arthur woke up in Merlin's bed with a terrible headache that could have been caused by only one thing.
He groaned. “The punch was alcoholic, wasn't it?”
Merlin, who had fallen asleep with his head pillowed on Arthur's chest, nodded. “I think it was spiked as well.”
“Do you have a hangover cure spell handy?”
“I don’t think I can do any magic,” Merlin said, weakly. “Let’s just lie here.”
“Yeah, that sounds a good idea,” Arthur agreed. He had no desire to move, though it would be nice to stop his head pounding.
They had at least discovered why the day after Halloween was a day off lectures at Camelot.
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November came and went without anything exciting happening, which suited Arthur just fine. The students looked at him differently now, with a bit more respect. He was no longer the mundane who couldn’t do magic; he was a cockatrice slayer.
Training with the knights continued, and Arthur steadily improved. He went to his lectures, and practised his magic with Merlin. They celebrated their two month anniversary by sneaking up to the tallest of the castle's towers and sharing a picnic. Morgana called them ridiculously romantic when she heard.
Professor Muirden recovered slowly, but it seemed he had no knowledge of what had gone on in the dungeons. His lessons were covered by Professor Nimueh and, for awhile, Arthur's headaches stopped. Everything was going well, and Arthur barely noticed the weeks fly by. Before he knew it, it was December, and the semester was nearly over.
“So, what are you doing for Christmas?” Elena asked, whilst they sat studying one evening. “Father is taking me to a unicorn sanctuary.”
“I'm going home to help my mother,” Gilli said. “Now I can do a little magic I'll be able to help her more.”
“I'm going home too,” Merlin said, smiling. “I can't wait to see if the wyverns have grown.”
“What about you, Arthur?” Elena asked, and Arthur felt the eyes of his friends turn to him.
“I don't know. I think I might be staying here. I hadn't made any plans,” he said. The truth was he hadn't even been thinking about Christmas.
“Maybe you should ask your sister,” Merlin suggested.
“That might just be a good idea, Merlin.”
“Might?”
Elena smiled. “You two are adorable,” she said.
Arthur ignored her, and just smiled at Merlin.
He easily tracked Morgana down during lunchtime the next day. The whole castle was starting to get colder. Probably because of the random snow falls that had started happening in corridors. He'd even had one appear over his bed, but Merlin had managed to magic it out of the way before his bed buried under snow.
He and Morgana talked in one of the warmer spots in a corridor that had, so far, remained snow free.
“What are you doing for Christmas?” he asked.
“I'll be spending it with Morgause. She lives in the same place our mother used to,” Morgana said. “It's quiet, peaceful, and there's no need for awkward small talk with Father.”
“Doesn't Father mind about that?”
Morgana shrugged. “Of course he does, but he can't stop me. Now you know about Camelot there's no need for me to go home to keep up the pretence of a happy family. What about you?”
“I've not spoken to Father.”
“Then you can do what you please, Arthur.”
“And go where? I'll probably end up staying here.”
“You could always ask Merlin.”
Arthur sighed. “He's going home. Do you really think he'd want to take me with him?”
“Ask him or you'll never know,” Morgana replied.
Of course it was easy for Morgana to say that. She had family in this world, she knew how to act around magical people. Arthur didn't have much of an idea what Merlin's parents were like. His mother sounded nice, but he'd only briefly met her at the station and heard her speak through an enchanted letter. Not exactly much to get an impression from.
He walked around the cold corridors thinking about it until his hands and feet began to feel a little numb, but he was no closer to a solution. It didn't feel right to ask Merlin to spend Christmas with him. His father had always told him not to ask for things, not even from friends.
As he wandered back to their chambers Arthur decided that perhaps he should stay at Camelot. That way at least he wouldn't embarrass Merlin in front of his parents. He knew a few of the students were staying behind, mostly to take advantage of the peace and quiet. He did have plenty of studying to do. Gaius seemed to think Christmas was an excuse to lumber them with even more reading material than usual.
When he got back to their chambers Merlin was packing. Well, technically, Merlin's things were packing themselves and he was supervising.
“So, what are you doing for Christmas?” Merlin asked, expectantly.
“I think I might just stay here,” Arthur admitted, sitting down heavily on his bed.
“Or you can come home with me.”
“You want to take me home to meet your parents?”
Merlin frowned, and a book faltered as it floated about in the air. “Isn't that what boyfriends do? Or do mundanes not bother?”
“They do bother. I just wasn't sure you'd want to introduce to your parents.
“Why not?”
“I can't really do magic, I was brought up mundane, and I have no idea how to act in front of magical parents. Did you really have to ask, Merlin?”
“Does anyone know how to act in front of their boyfriend's parents? I mean, I wouldn’t know how to act in front of your father.”
Arthur was not ready to talk to Merlin about him meeting his father yet. Writing and telling your father you were a gay wizard with a boyfriend was a little different than presenting him with the reality. Arthur changed the subject. “I've never seen a wyvern.”
“Then you should come and meet mine.”
“You really want me to come with you?” Arthur hadn't let himself hope.
“Yes, Arthur, I do. And I'm not taking no for an answer.”
“I was afraid of that.”
“Unless you can't pack and you're too embarrassed to say.”
“I can pack. With less dramatics than you,”Arthur said, pointing to the items floating about Merlin's suitcase.
“Good., because I already told my mother you'd be coming.”
“When did you tell her that?”
“When you said you weren't sure what you were doing over Christmas. She really wants to meet you.”
Arthur groaned. He felt more nervous than he had when he'd arrived in Camelot. He had no doubt that Merlin's mother was nice, that both of Merlin's parents were nice, but he had to make a good impression. He cared deeply about Merlin and wanted to see him happy.
Gwaine and Lancelot who took them to the station and helped with their luggage, small as it was with just Arthur's rucksack and Merlin’s suitcase. They boarded a small train that was heading out to the outlying villages, one of which was Ealdor. It was the closest village to the wyvern reservation where Merlin and his parents lived.
“It's still the best way to travel,” Merlin said. “Transparating's difficult with all the wards in place.”
At least Arthur had learnt enough about wards to know that magically transporting yourself close to wards was a sure fire way to be injured or worse. He was just hoping that he wouldn’t make some kind of faux pas about something else magical that would embarrass Merlin. Merlin still said things that Arthur needed explaining; such as why exactly you never left gold in plain sight of a goblin.
“Thank you for inviting me, Merlin,” Arthur said, perhaps a little too formally.
“You're welcome, Arthur,” Merlin replied, smiling.
In his cage, Archimedes squawked. The owl had not been happy to have to go back in a cage after months of freedom, flying where he wanted to, when he wanted to, but Merlin had refused to let him fly home on his own, so he had to grin and bear it.
Merlin's mother met them at the station. Ealdor station was tiny, really it was just a platform, there were no station buildings, just one very old sign on a crumbling platform. Ivy grew everywhere, and even the rails appeared rusty. Apparently not many people travelled to Ealdor, at least by train.
Arthur and Merlin were the only two getting off at Ealdor, the train had emptied pretty much already as students went home to their villages. Once they got onto the platform Arthur saw Merlin's mother waiting for them, recognising her from the brief moment he'd spoken to her at the station, which seemed like a lifetime ago.
“Merlin!” she called and immediately Merlin was swept up in a hug. “You look so well,” she smiled, kissing his forehead.
A little bit of jealousy flared in Arthur. He'd never had a parent greet him with a hug and a kiss, although his mother probably would have, had she been alive. As it was he felt awkward, until Merlin's mother let go of her son and came up to Arthur, smiling.
“Arthur,” she said, enveloping him in a hug. Arthur felt a little awkward, unsure about whether to put his arms around her or not. He tried it in the end, although it still felt awkward.
Merlin's mother pulled back. “Merlin's told us so much about you,” she said.
“All good I hope?”
She laughed. “Of course. Merlin seems quite taken with you.”
“Mum!”
“It's nice to meet you, Mrs Emrys.”
“Call me Hunith,” she replied.
“Hunith,” Arthur repeated. He wasn't used to such easy informality. Clearly this was the parent Merlin had inherited his friendly nature from.
“It's just a short walk to the house,” Hunith said, cheerfully. “Can you manage your things?”
“Yes, thank you,” Arthur replied. He only had his rucksack to worry about. Merlin had apparently 'enlarged it' using magic. Arthur was hoping it wouldn't swallow him up when he unpacked.
It was dark as they walked along, the winter sun had long since set, so Arthur was unable to see what was normally beautiful countryside. Of course, that didn't prevent Merlin from attempting to point out the various landmarks of his childhood.
“I felled that tree over there when I was six,” he said, pointing to a dark lump. “And that's the field where I rode my first wyvern.”
“I can't see, Merlin,” Arthur said, and he knew Merlin would be pouting. “You rode wyverns?” he asked, trying to stop Merlin sulking
It worked, Merlin told him in great detail how, at the age of seven, he had persuaded one of the wyverns to sit down so he could ride it.
“He wasn't very happy,” Merlin said, “but he didn't throw me off right away.
Soon they arrived at Merlin's parents' house. From the outside it appeared to be a small cottage, much smaller than the house Arthur had grown up in. The stone walls looked slightly uneven, giving the cottage an odd look, as if it had been corroded by the wind. The roof too seemed crooked, and there was a chimney that appeared to lean to one side. The whole thing looked pretty unstable, and Arthur wondered if it wasn't all held together with magic. He hoped it was held together with something.
The front door was white, though the paint was peeling, and Hunith opened it with a wave of her hand, beckoning Merlin and Arthur inside. “Come in,” she said.
Stepping inside Arthur wondered if he had stepped into a different house, or possibly the TARDIS, as inside it was much larger. It wasn't a mansion, but the hallway was quite large, and airy, with plenty of space, and there was a staircase leading up, though the cottage hadn't even seemed big enough for another level from the outside.
The whole place felt very homely. There were odds and ends all over the place, and the hall had a couple of shelves of odd looking knick knacks, yet it didn’t feel cluttered. The floorboards were bare, apart from the odd brightly patterned rug covering parts of it. The walls were white and clean.
“Yeah, it's bigger on the inside,” Merlin said.
“Should I take my shoes off?” Arthur asked.
“Why would you need to take your shoes off?”
“I don’t want to leave muddy footprints on your mother's clean floor,” Arthur replied.
“Oh don’t worry, the mop and bucket will clear them up.”
Arthur vaguely recalled seeing mops moving by themselves in Camelot. He guessed Merlin meant the home version of that. Keeping his shoes on he followed Hunith and Merlin into the sitting room, which was also larger than he had expected and which matched the look of the hallway. There were shelves full of things, and a large set of bookshelves.
There was a roaring fireplace, surrounded by several soft, comfortable looking chairs. Photographs were dotted all around, several of Merlin as a child, they moved in their frames as Arthur looked at them. Of course there was no television, radio, or any other modern appliance. It was old fashioned but comforting, and very pleasant.
“What do you think?” Merlin asked.
“It's very nice,” Arthur replied. “Homely.”
Merlin was beaming. Even Archimedes looked happier.
“Thank you, Arthur,” Hunith said, smiling. “I did ask Merlin’s father to be here but he gets so involved with those wyverns of his. It's almost time for something to eat so he'll be back soon. In the meantime Merlin can take you upstairs. Will you be all right sharing a room? I've made Merlin's bed bigger.”
Arthur blushed a little, wondering how aware Hunith was of the nature of his and Merlin's relationship. Merlin seemed a little embarrassed as well, if the red tint of his cheeks was any indication. “That will be fine,” Arthur said. “Won’t it Merlin?”
“Oh yes. As long as you don't steal all the covers,” he muttered.
“Just expand the blanket, Merlin,” Hunith said, laughing. She turned to Arthur. “Don't let Merlin fool you, he's been making his bedding bigger since he was a child.”
“Mum!” Merlin looked really embarrassed now, so Arthur decided to do the chivalrous thing.
“Let's see your room then, Merlin,” Arthur said, looking upstairs. “Lead the way.”
“Careful you don't trip,” Merlin said.
“Your stairs don't move, do they?”
“No, but sometimes the rugs like to crawl up here to sleep.”
Arthur looked down, hoping he'd be able to pick out any sleeping rugs. Occasionally he glanced up as they walked but mostly he focussed on his feet and the stairs. There seemed an awful lot of them before they reached the top, and Arthur could breathe a sigh of relief after he'd avoided any rug related mishaps.
Merlin's door was the first one they came to. He followed Merlin inside the dark room. He heard Merlin whisper the spell for light and the room became brighter at once.
“No such thing as light switches then?” he asked. He wasn't even sure where the light was coming from.
“One day you’re going to have to show me what a light switch is,” Merlin replied, placing his things down in the centre of the room.
Having lived with Merlin for a few months, Arthur had got used to a bit of clutter. Merlin did, to his credit, tidy things up when Arthur mentioned them. A good job, or they would have been buried under parchment and Merlin's clothes within a few days. At home, Merlin didn't have a room-mate to please, and as a result the room was full of clutter.
Piles of books lay on the floor, whilst the book shelves themselves were filled with odd trinkets and photographs. Arthur picked out the remains of an egg shell, and judging by the size it hadn't belonged to any creature he knew. There were bottles of bright coloured powders next to it, and string hanging down with what seemed to be fangs on them.
Merlin's floor was littered with clothing, despite there being a large wardrobe against one wall. It wouldn't have surprised Arthur if Merlin old him the wardrobe led to Narnia. Looking up at the ceiling it seemed as if the house had no roof. Arthur watched Arthur was looking as stars danced across a deep blue night sky.
“So, what do you think?” Merlin asked, letting Archimedes out of his cage. The owl immediately flew over to perch on the wardrobe.
“Well, it's a good job you have a room mate or you would have gone missing after a couple of weeks of being at Camelot,” Arthur said. “You would have been found months later under piles of your stuff.”
“It's not that bad,” Merlin said, looking around. “You should have seen it before I left for Camelot.”
“Would we have been able to get through the door?”
Merlin just gave Arthur a look and went to sit on the bed. “Do you want to try it out?” he asked.
“With your mother in the house?”
Merlin rolled his eyes. “Arthur, we're going to be sleeping on it. Unless you want to sleep on the floor?”
Arthur looked down at the mess around him. “I don't think there's room.”
“So, come on, sit on the bed.”
Deciding resistance would be futile, Arthur came and sat down next to Merlin. The bed gave way a little and Arthur wondered if that was because it was old, or because it had been made bigger.
“What do you think?” Merlin asked.
“I think I'll be able to sleep on it,” Arthur replied, deliberately leaning closer.
“Are you sure about the sleeping?” Merlin asked.
Arthur wasn't so sure not that Merlin was close enough to kiss. He closed his eyes and was leaning forward to press his lips to Merlin's when they were interrupted.
“Merlin! Arthur! Time for something to eat!” Hunith called.
Arthur opened his eyes and looked at Merlin with disappointment.
“I'm sorry about my mother,” Merlin said. “She just likes to feed people.”
“She's not spying on us, is she?” Arthur asked. “After Morgana tried to scry to see what we were doing when...”
“My mother would never spy on us,” Merlin said, squeezing Arthur's hand. “And she doesn't mind you being here.”
“She does know about us, right?”
“Why do you think she made the bed bigger?” Merlin grinned.
“Boys! Come on!” Hunith called again.
“We should go and get something to eat,” Merlin said, standing up. “My mother's cooking isn't as good as Camelot's but it's edible.”
“That's very reassuring, Merlin.”
Leaving Merlin's room and going down the stairs Arthur was careful to avoid any rugs, only having to step over one which was sleeping on the middle stair. When they reached the bottom they came face to face with a man Arthur recognised from Merlin's photographs; Merlin's father.
“Dad!” Merlin said, practically launching himself at his father.
“Merlin!” He laughed, and enveloped him a hug.
It was a sign of affection Arthur had never had from his own father, and he felt another twinge of jealousy at the fact Merlin's parents clearly weren't shy about showing their affection for him.
“When did you get back?” Merlin asked.
“Just now.” The man, Balinor, Arthur remembered his name was, smiled. He glanced over at Arthur. “This your boyfriend, is it?”
“Yes, this is Arthur. Arthur, this is my father: Balinor.”
Balinor held out a hand and Arthur took it, receiving a firm shake. “Pleased to meet you sir.”
“Call me Balinor,” he replied. “You do look like Ygraine.” He smiled sadly. “I knew your mother quite well when we were younger.”
Arthur wanted to ask how well, and what Balinor could tell him about his mother, but at that moment Hunith bustled into the hallway. “The food's getting cold and I don't want to have to heat it up again,” she said. “Come on.”
Family dinners with Merlin and his parents were much different to the awkward, stilted ones Arthur had had at home. There were no awkward silences, or indeed any silences at all. Merlin talked animately about Camelot, mostly about what he and Arthur had done together, Arthur noted. Sometimes, Merlin would pause long enough for Arthur to interject, and Hunith and Balinor both asked him questions.
“Fighting a cockatrice is a dangerous undertaking,” Balinor said. “You're very brave.”
“I had Merlin there,” Arthur replied. “And we didn't have a choice.”
“You did very well,” Hunith said, quietly. “I'm proud of you both.”
Arthur was stunned that anyone could be proud of him. Uther rarely said anything like that, and here was his boyfriend's mother telling Arthur she was proud of him.
“Thank you.”
Talk turned to wyverns and by the end of the meal Arthur felt when they tackled wyverns in Professor Mandrake's lectures he'd be able to get full marks. Balinor promised to take both of them out to see the wyvern colony the next day. Merlin assured Arthur he'd enjoy it.
After the meal was over Arthur offered to help with the clearing up but Hunith just looked at him sadly, as if he didn't understand.
“You don't need to help,” she said. “Watch.”
Arthur did watch as the plates and cutlery began to float. They rose up off the table and floated across the room to the kitchen door, which opened to let them through.
“They're going to wash themselves up?” Arthur guessed.
“Yes,” Hunith replied. “A bit different to what you're used to.”
Arthur nodded. Of course at Camelot the table did always clear itself but Arthur hadn't thought such magic would apply to the home as well. In a way, Camelot had stood apart, a magical place on its own, but magic was part of everything in Avalon. It was an intrinsic part of the world.
“It's a good different,” Arthur said, finally.
After the dinner things had cleared themselves up Merlin was sent to check on the wyvern nest in the shed at the back of the house. Arthur suspected it was a deliberate ploy, as Balinor and Hunith stayed behind, waiting until Merlin was out of earshot before speaking.
“Don't look worried, Arthur,” Hunith said. “We just want a talk.”
“Is this about Merlin and me?” he asked.
Both of Merlin's parents nodded.
“If it's a problem....”
“Oh no!” Hunith replied. “We understand.”
Balinor nodded. “Hunith and I met on the train to Camelot and we've not been apart since.” Grasping his wife's hand, Balinor smiled. “We want you to know we support you.”
“Thank you,” Arthur said. He took things with Merlin one day at a time. They'd been together just a couple of months, and it was too early to think about forever, but sometimes Arthur felt as if they didn't have to, as if it had already been decided that forever was exactly what they would have together.
“Merlin made a good choice with you,” Hunith said. “Kilgharrah said he would.”
“Professor Kilgharrah spoke to you about it?”
Balinor laughed. “Nothing gets past that old dragon. That's why every couple that comes out of Camelot stays together. You can't argue with destiny.”
“Destiny,” Arthur murmured.
“Does your father know?” Hunith asked.
“I wrote him a letter,” Arthur replied. “I don't really know what he thinks.” Arthur wished he knew how his father felt about it.
“Ygraine would have been proud of you,” Hunith said, touching Arthur's cheek. “She was a good friend.”
“Could you tell me about her?” Arthur asked.
Hunith nodded. “We will. First though we want to show you something.”
She got up and went to a small cupboard, brought out a large photo album bound in leather and laid it on the table. “It wouldn’t be a first meeting with your boyfriend's parents if we didn't show you embarrassing pictures of Merlin when he was a baby.”
Although Arthur had been hoping the pictures were of his mother he couldn’t be disappointed, not as Hunith opened the album to a picture of a tiny, newborn Merlin, fast asleep. As she turned the page Merlin got bigger, and Arthur had to admit he was a cute looking baby.
By the time Merlin returned Arthur was chuckling over a naked Merlin, about two years old, waving a couple of flowers, whilst being licked by a baby wyvern.
“I knew I shouldn't have left,” Merlin groaned.
*****************************************************************************
In bed together that night Arthur felt the urge to snuggle close. He didn't get to share a bed with Merlin at Camelot often; their beds were too small to make a habit of it, and resolutely refused to come together, so he was determined to make the most of the opportunity.
“You were a cute baby,” Arthur said, kissing Merlin's temple.
“Of course I was,” Merlin replied.
“Chubby too.”
“Everyone has puppy fat.”
“Merlin, it wasn't an insult.”
“My mother showed you my embarrassing baby pictures,” Merlin groaned, burying his face in Arthur's neck.
“Your father was there as well. It was...nice. Your parents are wonderful.”
Merlin shifted and looked at Arthur. “You like them?”
“I love them.” Arthur kissed the tip of Merlin's nose. “Not the same way I love you, obviously.” He tightened his hold on Merlin. “Thank you, Merlin.”
“Happy Christmas, Arthur,” Merlin whispered.
PART FIVE
PART THREE
Part Four
A few weeks later Arthur was sitting in the Valerian College hall trying to study with Merlin. Trying to study, because Merlin kept distracting him by licking his lips, or getting ink on his hands, or doing other things that drew Arthur's attention away from his essay on the proper use of hogswart, and onto Merlin.
He'd only written two paragraphs when he heard a large screech, and Merlin’s owl Archimedes came flying in through one of the open windows. The bird flew right Merlin and, Arthur was worried they were going to collide, and there would be an accident of bones, feathers and blood. However, Archimedes just flew straight past, dropping a scroll directly in front of Merlin.
“Thank you,” Merlin called, as Archimedes looped round and flew out of the window he'd just flown in.
Merlin picked up the scroll and untied the red ribbon around it.
“What is it?” Arthur asked.
Carefully Merlin unrolled the scroll. “It's a letter from my parents,” he groaned. “I did promise I'd write to them but...”
“You forgot?”
“Yes.”
“What does it say?”
“I'll let you hear,” Merlin said. “Stefn,” he whispered.
Suddenly, the scroll leapt out of Merlin's hands to hang in mid-air. Then a woman’s voice began to speak.
“Dear Merlin,
Your father and I thought you wouldn't have had time to write to us, so we're writing to you. Gaius tells us you're doing well in your lectures. I hope you're listening to him. He says you're helping to tutor one of your fellow students. He didn't tell me who it was. I hope you've not got into too much trouble with the knights; I know how they can be. Your father says I should tell you Anglides has hatched another clutch last week, six eggs.
I'm sure you are well and very busy. Don't forget to wash your clothes once in a while.
Lots of love, Mum.”
As the voice finished speaking, the scroll rolled itself up and floated gently down onto the table.
“That was your mother’s voice?” Arthur asked. “I recognise it.”
“Yeah.”
“You should write back to her. If only to tell her my name.”
Merlin smiled. “Oh, you think she'd be interested in that?”
“Yes, Merlin, I think the name of your boyfriend might be interesting to her.”
Merlin took out a fresh piece of paper and started to write. “Aren't you going to write to your father?” he asked.
“Merlin, the last time I saw my father he was angrier than I’ve ever seen him. He never wanted me to come here, do you think he'd want a letter from me?”
“He might want to know you're safe,” Merlin suggested.
“I don’t have an owl to deliver it.”
“I can lend you Archimedes.”
“I wouldn’t know what to write,” Arthur admitted. Where would he actually begin? He was using magic, training with knights, and he'd acquired a boyfriend, all within a few weeks of being at Camelot.
“Ask Morgana,” Merlin replied. Then he started doing that lip thing again.
******************************************************************************
The next day Arthur tracked Morgana down as she was leaving one of Nimueh's lectures.
“Arthur! To what do I owe the pleasure? Want me to help you with your homework? Oh, wait, you've got Merlin for that.”
Ignoring the jibe Arthur launched straight into his question. “Do you write to Father?”
Morgana looked away. “Sometimes,” she said. “Nothing much, just enough to remind him I'm happy and where I belong.” She turned back to him. “Why?”
“Merlin was writing to his parents yesterday, and I thought perhaps Father deserves to know what I'm doing.”
“It won't change the way he feels about this place,” Morgana said, sadly. “Trust me, I've tried.”
“But he still deserves to know, doesn't he?”
“I suppose he does. Just write what you feel, Arthur.”
“Is there an easy way to tell your father you're a gay wizard, with a boyfriend, and that you're enjoying being at a magical university?”
Morgana smiled. “Sometimes being honest is all you can do.”
“Thank you,” Arthur said.
*****************************************************************************
That evening Arthur sat in this chambers and wrote to his father. It was an awkward letter, and several times he screwed the thing up and threw it across the room. Every time he did so Merlin picked up the paper, and used magic to smooth it out so it was as good as new.
“You can do this, Arthur,” he said, as he set the paper back down. “Just tell him what you want him to know.”
“Even if he wouldn't want to know about it?”
Merlin nodded. “Especially if he wouldn't want to know about it.”
Finally, after a lot of frustration, Arthur was happy with what he'd written. Merlin called Archimedes and the letter was entrusted to the owl's care.
“Could you tell him to put it through the letterbox?” Arthur asked, remembering the dramatic letter delivery Merlin had had.
“He will do, Arthur,” Merlin assured him.
Watching Archimedes take off Arthur wondered if his father had really thought about him. If he had thought about him, or wondered what he was doing. His father must have some idea about Camelot, surely his mother would have told him something. Then again, perhaps his father hadn't wanted to know, given Arthur's mother had had to give up practising magic when she married him.
*****************************************************************************
Arthur occasionally thought of his father over the next few weeks, though he didn't receive any reply to his letter. He didn't dwell on it much as there were other distractions to keep him busy. Soon, October was nearly over and Halloween fever began to sweep Camelot.
It was a new experience for Arthur. His father had never been fond of Halloween, probably because of the suggestion of magic, witches and wizards. Morgana had often snuck out of the house when she was old enough to go to parties, but Arthur had never been that brave.
“What on earth are you doing?” Arthur asked, as Gilli and Elena rushed into the hall after lectures with several pumpkins and began putting them on the table.
“Pumpkin carving,” Merlin said. “You've never done that?”
“No, Merlin,Ffather didn't like anything to do with Halloween. Especially not pumpkins.”
“Nothing? No pumpkins? No apple bobbing? No trick or treating?”
“Nothing. Morgana made a witch hat at school once. He confiscated it and burnt it in the fire.”
Merlin looked shocked. “Oh, Arthur.” Then his expression softened. “So, this is your first Halloween?”
“I suppose it is.”
Merlin grinned. “Then we should make it a memorable one.”
Arthur wasn't sure whether to be pleased or worried by that. Especially when Merlin decided to announce it to their friends. Elena and Gilli immediately placed a couple of pumpkins in front of him.
“You want me to carve these?”
Elena grinned. “It'll be fun! Now take your wand and start carving.”
She handed him a long stick that Arthur supposed could pass as a wand. Wands were used for very particular sorts of magic; magic writing, magic tattooing and, apparently, pumpkin carving.
“What do I do?” he asked, staring at the wood in his hand.
“You use the wand to trace the design on the pumpkin,” Gilli said, helpfully. He picked up his wand and carefully drew a face onto the pumpkin. The lines glowed a bright gold. When he had finished he spoke. “áwréon”
In a moment the gold lines seemed to grow brighter and more intense as they seemed to burn parts of the pumpkin away. The glow then began to die down, leaving only the design. Oddly the edges of the voids weren't burnt, but looked sealed, as if the pumpkin had grown that way. The pumpkin also appeared to be hollowed out neatly and cleanly.
“That's surprisingly not messy,” Arthur said.
“Why don't you try, Arthur?” Elena asked.
“I'm not...” Arthur’s cheeks flushed. He hadn't managed magic in front of people yet. Though perhaps the wand would help him. Gingerly, he raised the wand and placed the tip against the pumpkin. Taking a deep breath he tried to copy the movements he'd seen Gilli make. He moved his wand across the surface but no lines, glowing or otherwise, appeared.
He sighed, and lowered the wand. “Apparently pumpkin carving isn't one of my talents,” he said, smiling weakly.
Then he felt a warm hand on his and he knew Merlin was standing behind him. He kept his hold on Arthur's hand and encouraged him to raise it again. That warm, tingling feeling began to spread through Arthur's body. He and Merlin had never done this, had Merlin try and help him with his magic in public.
“Try it now, Arthur,” Merlin whispered.
Merlin continued to hold Arthur's hand, just lightly, following Arthur's movements with the wand. This time a gold line appeared as he drew across the surface and Arthur felt a little giddy. He was well aware everyone would be watching him, he'd never successfully performed magic in front of his peers before.
Merlin kept hold of his wrist as he spoke the spell, and part of the pumpkin burned away. Only then did Merlin let go, although his hand lingered near Arthur's. Arthur was pleased at how it had turned out, after all he'd never carved a pumpkin before, magically or otherwise.
“Why has it got three eyes?” Gilli asked.
Arthur felt slightly embarrassed but before he could reply Merlin spoke up.
“It's obvious,” he said. “It's scarier that way.”
Various other craft activities seemed to be taking place along with pumpkin carving, in order to decorate every building across the Camelot campus. Morgana persuaded Arthur and Merlin to help her with the decorations for the main hall. Arthur still wasn't sure how she had managed to persuade them to give up their free time.
His sister’s persuasive talents meant he ended up folding triangles of orange and black paper to help create bunting to hang all around the main hall. He and Merlin weren't the only victims, however. Morgana had managed to persuade most of the knights along with Gwen, Morgause, and a few other friends from the Seer's Club.
“Isn't there an easier way to do this?” Arthur asked, his fingers hurting from all the folding. “Like using magic?”
“Some things require a more handmade touch,” Morgana said.
“Is that why you're touching them up with magic?” Arthur asked.
Morgana glared and Merlin stifled a laugh.
Across from them Gwen and the knights were busy folding too.
“Did you give Arthur his sword?” Lancelot asked Gwen.
She elbowed him before turning apologetically to Arthur. “It was supposed to be a surprise,” she said. “It was going to be a Halloween present but as Lancelot has spoiled it...” She turned and smiled at Lancelot and he smiled back.
Gwen got up and went over to a corner of the room. She came back carrying something long and wrapped in cloth. “Here you are,” she said, handing it to Arthur.
Arthur took the bundle. “Thank you,” he said, gratefully.
“Well, come on, unwrap it,” Merlin said, sounding more excited than Arthur.
Arthur was certainly excited. He'd been training with the knights for weeks, and now he finally had a sword of his own. No more need to borrow one, he would finally fit in with them in a way he hadn't before.
He'd known Gwen had been working on the sword. She'd taken measurements, and asked him quite personal questions, all of which had been supposed to help in forging the sword.
Carefully, Arthur began to unwrap the layers of coarse, white cloth. As he did so the shape of the sword started to become clear. Finally, it was revealed and the bright metal gleamed, even in the dim light of the hall. Arthur grasped its handle and held it up.
“Wow,” Merlin said, quietly.
“How does it feel?” Gwaine asked.
Standing back from everyone Arthur slowly moved the sword through the air. It felt different to the ones he'd been practising with, lighter, better, as if it belonged to him. He could feel his magic coursing through his body and into the sword itself.
“Perfect,” he said, staring at it, and watching how fluid his movements were. “This is amazing, Gwen, thank you.”
Gwen just blushed and bowed her head. “I'm glad you like it.”
Given the choice Arthur would have kept swinging his sword about until his arm fell off, but at that point Morgause came up to Morgana.
“Have you seen Mordred?” she asked.
Morgana looked concerned. “Is he not here yet?”
“No, sister, he isn't. He was supposed to be here half an hour ago.”
“Mordred?” Arthur asked. He hadn't had much interaction with the strange boy, even though they shared the same lectures.
“Of course. He's a freshman isn't he, Arthur?” Morgana asked. “He's Morgause's cousin,” she explained.
“I promised I would keep an eye on him,” Morgause said. “Unfortunately he wasn't sorted into Sage College.”
“I'm sure the knights will look for him, won't you?” Gwen asked.
“Of course,” Lancelot replied, standing up. “He can't have gone far.”
“Maybe Arthur should go and look for him?” Gwaine suggested. “He can put that sword to good use.”
“I'll go with him,” Merlin offered, scrambling to his feet.
“Are you sure?” Morgana asked. She looked worried.
“Of course,” Arthur said, confidently. “He won't have got far. We'll head towards Thyme College and we'll probably meet him on the way.”
“Don't get lost,” Morgana said, firmly.
Arthur smiled. “We'll be fine. Come on, Merlin.”
As they left the hall Merlin whispered, “Do you know where we're going?”
“I was hoping you'd know,” Arthur replied.
They wandered through the corridors. Several times Arthur stopped in his tracks, as he noticed something out of the corner of his eye, and raised his sword, ready to defend himself and Merlin, until he realised what he had been unnerved by had been a pumpkin with a candle inside and some fluttering bunting.
“You don't have to try and attack everything,” Merlin teased.
“It's a good idea to be cautious, Merlin.”
“So, if a wall moves, are you going to try and slice it with your sword?”
“No wall would dare challenge me,” Arthur replied.
They wandered on for ages but the corridors were more or less deserted, everyone obviously preparing for the Halloween celebrations. It felt eerily quiet, even more so considering Arthur had only just got used to the hallways and corridors crammed with bodies and noise.
“It's spooky, isn't it?” Merlin whispered..
Arthur nodded. “Not scared, Merlin?”
“With my big, scary, knight-in-training boyfriend with me? Of course not.”
They heard the sound of running footsteps and Arthur saw a figure further down the corridor, coming toward them very quickly. Automatically, he raised his sword.
“Who is it?” he asked.
“I don't know,” Merlin replied.
As the figure came into view Arthur recognised the small stature. “Mordred?”
There was no answer, but now he was close enough for Arthur to be sure it was him. “Mordred?” he called.
“Are you all right?” Merlin shouted from beside Arthur.
Mordred rushed into Arthur, hard enough to make him stumble back. The boy was panting hard and looked very frightened. Just looking at him made Arthur feel queasy; his temples hurt.
“Professor Muirden is in trouble,” Mordred said, trying to catch his breath. “There's a cockatrice in the dungeons. He went down to deal with it but I think it has him trapped. I heard it and came to get help.”
“What's a cockatrice?” Arthur asked.
“They're usually found in forests,” Merlin explained. “They're vicious creatures with very pwoerful venom.”
“Great,” Arthur said. “Maybe I should have paid more attention in Professor Mandrake's lectures.”
“Professor Muirden needs help!” Mordred said, worriedly. “You have to help him.”
Arthur should have said he and Merlin weren't really equipped for fending off a vicious, venomous creature, but Mordred was looking at him hopefully. “You go and fetch the knights,” Arthur said. “Merlin and I will see what the situation is.”
Mordred nodded and then set off running down the corridor.
“We should wait for them,” Merlin said, concerned.
“If we do that the Professor might end up dead,” Arthur pointed out. “We can't leave him.”
Merlin looked serious. “I know.”
They headed down to the dungeons. It was a part of the castle rarely visited, by anyone Merlin had teased Arthur with stories about students being imprisoned down there for cheating. Of course no one actually knew what the dungeons were for, if they had ever been used that way. The only one that would know was Professor Kilgharrah, and he never told anyone.
The farther they ventured down into the dungeons, the more the atmosphere changed. It was dark and felt slightly chilly, as if there was a cool breeze blowing through the old tunnels.
“We need some light,” Arthur said, as he strained to see where they were going. The floor was uneven and sandy and he worried about stumbling.
“Fromum feohgiftum on fæder bearme,” Merlin whispered, and an orb of blue light hovered above them, bathing the stone walls with an eerie glow.
“Thank you,” Arthur said.
They went further on.
“I can't hear anything,” Merlin whispered. “What if we're...?”
“We'll keep going,” Arthur replied. “It can't be much further.”
They were approaching another set of stairs when they heard someone cry out.
“Professor?” Arthur called.
There was another cry but it was indistinct, the sound echoing, bouncing off the walls, making it difficult to tell the direction it had come from.
“Come on,” Arthur said, heading off down the stairs. Merlin followed closely behind.
Arthur's head was really pounding now, he told himself it was just the pressure of being thrown into a life threatening situation. He held his sword even more tightly, gripping it so the tendons in his hand hurt until he relaxed his grip a little.
As they reached the bottom of the stairs they could see Professor Muirden backed against a wall, crouching, and throwing out small fireballs, that seemed to be doing little good. Before him was a large creature, lizard-like creature, with a large fan of spiked protrusions on its back. It reminded Arthur of the models of dinosaurs he had seen in museums as a child.
“Is that the cockatrice?” Arthur asked.
“Yeah. Don't let it touch you. The spikes and claws are venomous.”
They advanced toward it quietly, although Arthur was acutely aware of the sound of their footsteps on the dirt floor. Each step produced a crunching sound as they trod over small stones and sand.
“You distract it,” Arthur whispered. “I'll try and injure it with my sword.”
“How do I distract it?” Merlin hissed.
“I don’t know...with magic?”
“I hope this works,” Merlin muttered.
The creature was so fixated on its prey that it didn't see them coming toward it. Arthur thought that if they approached from behind they might have the advantage of surprise. It was hissing loudly, and it was clear Professor Muirden was injured as blood had soaked through the part of his cloak covering his arm.
“Now, Merlin,” Arthur said, raising his sword in readiness.
“Ástríce,” Merlin said, forcefully. He formed a fire ball and aimed it at the back of the creature's head.
It hit with complete accuracy, and the creature spun around to face Merlin. Its eyes glittered as Arthur stepped forward, preparing to attack. Merlin's blue orb of light was the only source of illumination in the tunnel, apart from a few small pieces of wood that had been set alight by the professor's attempts to fend the creature off.
As the cockatrice approach, its focus was on Merlin but Arthur was not going to let it hurt him. Before the creature could get within range to swipe at Merlin, Arthur swung his sword at it. Was unable to land a blow on the creature as his sword went whistling past. The noise was enough to get the attention of the cockatrice, and it now turned toward Arthur.
It was raising it's clawed foot to swipe at him when Merlin, still a little out of range, aimed another fireball. Now the creature was faced with two, equally distracting targets, confused about which to go for. Arthur swiped at it with his sword again as he saw the creature turn toward Merlin, but again it was just out of reach. He swung his sword around a few times to keep the creature’s attention on him, and away from Merlin.
There wasn't much room to manoeuvre in the small space. Merlin was aiming another fireball when Arthur acted purely on instinct. Again it was as if he knew what was happening before it happened. He could see the creature rear up and come close enough to hit Merlin but as it raised itself for the strike Arthur used his sword to finally land a blow on the creature’s foreleg.
Merlin was startled and stumbled back, almost tripping. With his concentration briefly lost he struggled to maintain the light orb. Arthur knew it was now or never; the creature was writhing in pain and lashing out blindly. Arthur waited for his moment, and, as the creature reared up again, its soft underbelly was exposed.
Arthur didn't hesitate as he pushed his sword as deep as he could into the creature, and then jerked it to one side as he pulled it out, slicing open the cockatrice's belly. With one last howl it fell to the ground. Then it was still as dark blood trickled out across the floor.
Wiping his brow, Arthur found he was breathing hard. He turned to check on Merlin who was standing off to one side, looking down at the slain creature.
“Are you all right?” Arthur asked.
Merlin nodded. “You killed it,” he said, looking at the body. “You did it.”
“I did,” Arthur replied, half disbelieving it himself.
It was then that they noticed Professor Muirden had slipped to the ground and wasn't. They went over together and Merlin bent down, pressing his fingers to the Professor's neck.
“Is he alive?”
Merlin nodded. “We need to get him to Gaius,” he said. “If he's been scratched he'll have venom in his body. He needs the antidote.”
Arthur helped Merlin haul the Professor to his feet and they made their way up the stairs. Merlin used a spell to lighten the Professor’s body so he was easier to carry as he was unconscious, and otherwise a dead weight. It wasn't easy getting him out of the dungeon area and into the corridors.
By the time they made it back into the main part of the castle, the others were waiting for them: Morgana, Gwen, Lancelot, Gwaine and Mordred, along with Professors Gaius and Nimueh. As soon as Arthur and Merlin came into view they rushed forward to help them with Professor Muirden.
“He was scratched by a cockatrice,” Merlin said, as Gaius unfastened the Professor's cloak and robes to reveal a deep, nasty looking wound.
“A cockatrice?” Nimueh said, looking concerned. “Where is it?”
“Arthur killed it,” Merlin said
Nimueh turned to Arthur. “You killed a cockatrice, Mr Pendragon?”
Arthur nodded. “I couldn’t have done it without Merlin,” he replied.
Arthur didn't know if it was the adrenaline or the effort he'd expended, but he wasn't feeling great. “I think I need a lie down,” he said.
“I'll need to speak with you both later,” Gaius said, as Lancelot and Gwaine helped carry Professor Muirden.
“Of course,” Arthur replied.
He and Merlin headed back to their chambers, and collapsed together onto Arthur's bed.
“Next time,” Arthur said, quietly, “perhaps we should wait for help.”
Merlin put his arms around Arthur and snuggled into him. “Yeah, but you were brilliant.”
“So were you.”
*****************************************************************************
A couple of hours later Gaius came to see them. Arthur was feeling much better, and Merlin had even managed to get the dried cockatrice blood off Arthur's sword.
“Because I don't want Gwen to yell at you,” Merlin had said.
“At least this got us out of bunting making,” Arthur had replied.
Now, feeling refreshed they were anxious to hear what Gaius had to say.
“Is Professor Muirden all right?” Merlin asked.
“He will recover, but it will take time,” Gaius said, solemnly. “We may never know why he was down there. The venom can affect the brain.”
“How did the cockatrice get in?” Arthur asked.
“We're looking into it,” Gaius said, quickly. “In the meantime Professor Kilgharrah wants to see the both of you.”
“Professor Kilgharrah the dragon?” Arthur asked, to make sure. He hadn't seen him since their arrival at Camelot. The Professor didn't teach lessons, and no student was ever heard to visit him.
“Yes, come with me, please.”
Dutifully Arthur and Merlin followed Gaius through the castle. They ended up in a place that Arthur didn't even vaguely recognise. Gaius tapped a blank wall, and a door way opened to reveal a set of stairs leading down, very like the ones leading down to the dungeons. Torches were positioned along each wall, lighting the way.
“Where are we?” Arthur whispered to Merlin.
“Professor Kilgharrah lives under the castle,” Merlin replied. “In a cave.”
Well, he was a dragon Arthur supposed. He was hardly going to be living in a house.
They reached the bottom of the stairs, and went rough several doorways, before finding themselves in a vast underground cavern, easily large enough to fit the whole castle inside it. They were standing on a relatively small ledge, with Professor Kilgharrah perched on a rock across from them.
“It is good to see you again,” he said, his voice echoing and rumbling through the empty space. “Gaius, you may leave us.”
Gaius nodded. “I''ll wait for you at the top of the stairs,” he said.
With Gaius gone Arthur felt rather awkward under the dragon's gaze. Those bright gold eyes seemed to hold centuries of knowledge.
“I believe you saved the life of Professor Muirden. That was a brave act to undertake.”
“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” Merlin said, cheerful, and not the least bit intimidated.
“We had to do something,” Arthur agreed.
“You must be careful of both your friends and your foes,” Kilgharrah said. “Your destiny is a great one but you must be cautious. Let your hearts guide you.”
Arthur exchanged a glance with Merlin. He was pretty sure Merlin hadn’t understood the dragon's words either. “Thank you,” they said in unison.
“I won't keep you from the celebrations any longer. We shall meet again soon.”
With a few powerful beats of his wings Professor Kilgharrah flew up from the the rock, and off into the dark recesses of the cave.
“Well, that was interesting,” Arthur observed.
“You never get straight answers from a dragon,” Merlin replied. “My father always said they speak in riddles to annoy people.”
Arthur didn't feel annoyed as much as puzzled by what the Professor had meant. “We should head back,” he said.
As he had promised, Gaius was waiting at the top of the stairs. He escorted them to the Great Hall, where the rest of the students were already gathered. The bunting had been completed and hung up, along with traditional decorations of skeletons, and witches on broomsticks. Carved pumpkins, glowing with light, floated about the room, and there were several large cauldrons positioned at various points from which a few of the older students were ladling punch. At least Arthur hoped it was punch.
“Arthur! Merlin!” came a shout and Arthur saw Elena and Gilli waving at them.
They headed over to their friends.
“We heard you killed a cockatrice, Arthur,” Elena said, excitedly. “Is it true?”
“Yes,” Arthur admitted. “But I couldn't have done without Merlin.”
“It was nothing really,” Merlin said, shyly. “Arthur did all the hard work.”
“Merlin distracted it. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him and his magic.”
“You saved Professor Muirden's life,” Gilli said “You should be proud. Both of you.”
There was moment of silence and Arthur wasn't really sure what to say. “Thank you,” he said, finally.
“Now, who wants some punch?” Elena asked.
*****************************************************************************
The next morning Arthur woke up in Merlin's bed with a terrible headache that could have been caused by only one thing.
He groaned. “The punch was alcoholic, wasn't it?”
Merlin, who had fallen asleep with his head pillowed on Arthur's chest, nodded. “I think it was spiked as well.”
“Do you have a hangover cure spell handy?”
“I don’t think I can do any magic,” Merlin said, weakly. “Let’s just lie here.”
“Yeah, that sounds a good idea,” Arthur agreed. He had no desire to move, though it would be nice to stop his head pounding.
They had at least discovered why the day after Halloween was a day off lectures at Camelot.
*****************************************************************************
November came and went without anything exciting happening, which suited Arthur just fine. The students looked at him differently now, with a bit more respect. He was no longer the mundane who couldn’t do magic; he was a cockatrice slayer.
Training with the knights continued, and Arthur steadily improved. He went to his lectures, and practised his magic with Merlin. They celebrated their two month anniversary by sneaking up to the tallest of the castle's towers and sharing a picnic. Morgana called them ridiculously romantic when she heard.
Professor Muirden recovered slowly, but it seemed he had no knowledge of what had gone on in the dungeons. His lessons were covered by Professor Nimueh and, for awhile, Arthur's headaches stopped. Everything was going well, and Arthur barely noticed the weeks fly by. Before he knew it, it was December, and the semester was nearly over.
“So, what are you doing for Christmas?” Elena asked, whilst they sat studying one evening. “Father is taking me to a unicorn sanctuary.”
“I'm going home to help my mother,” Gilli said. “Now I can do a little magic I'll be able to help her more.”
“I'm going home too,” Merlin said, smiling. “I can't wait to see if the wyverns have grown.”
“What about you, Arthur?” Elena asked, and Arthur felt the eyes of his friends turn to him.
“I don't know. I think I might be staying here. I hadn't made any plans,” he said. The truth was he hadn't even been thinking about Christmas.
“Maybe you should ask your sister,” Merlin suggested.
“That might just be a good idea, Merlin.”
“Might?”
Elena smiled. “You two are adorable,” she said.
Arthur ignored her, and just smiled at Merlin.
He easily tracked Morgana down during lunchtime the next day. The whole castle was starting to get colder. Probably because of the random snow falls that had started happening in corridors. He'd even had one appear over his bed, but Merlin had managed to magic it out of the way before his bed buried under snow.
He and Morgana talked in one of the warmer spots in a corridor that had, so far, remained snow free.
“What are you doing for Christmas?” he asked.
“I'll be spending it with Morgause. She lives in the same place our mother used to,” Morgana said. “It's quiet, peaceful, and there's no need for awkward small talk with Father.”
“Doesn't Father mind about that?”
Morgana shrugged. “Of course he does, but he can't stop me. Now you know about Camelot there's no need for me to go home to keep up the pretence of a happy family. What about you?”
“I've not spoken to Father.”
“Then you can do what you please, Arthur.”
“And go where? I'll probably end up staying here.”
“You could always ask Merlin.”
Arthur sighed. “He's going home. Do you really think he'd want to take me with him?”
“Ask him or you'll never know,” Morgana replied.
Of course it was easy for Morgana to say that. She had family in this world, she knew how to act around magical people. Arthur didn't have much of an idea what Merlin's parents were like. His mother sounded nice, but he'd only briefly met her at the station and heard her speak through an enchanted letter. Not exactly much to get an impression from.
He walked around the cold corridors thinking about it until his hands and feet began to feel a little numb, but he was no closer to a solution. It didn't feel right to ask Merlin to spend Christmas with him. His father had always told him not to ask for things, not even from friends.
As he wandered back to their chambers Arthur decided that perhaps he should stay at Camelot. That way at least he wouldn't embarrass Merlin in front of his parents. He knew a few of the students were staying behind, mostly to take advantage of the peace and quiet. He did have plenty of studying to do. Gaius seemed to think Christmas was an excuse to lumber them with even more reading material than usual.
When he got back to their chambers Merlin was packing. Well, technically, Merlin's things were packing themselves and he was supervising.
“So, what are you doing for Christmas?” Merlin asked, expectantly.
“I think I might just stay here,” Arthur admitted, sitting down heavily on his bed.
“Or you can come home with me.”
“You want to take me home to meet your parents?”
Merlin frowned, and a book faltered as it floated about in the air. “Isn't that what boyfriends do? Or do mundanes not bother?”
“They do bother. I just wasn't sure you'd want to introduce to your parents.
“Why not?”
“I can't really do magic, I was brought up mundane, and I have no idea how to act in front of magical parents. Did you really have to ask, Merlin?”
“Does anyone know how to act in front of their boyfriend's parents? I mean, I wouldn’t know how to act in front of your father.”
Arthur was not ready to talk to Merlin about him meeting his father yet. Writing and telling your father you were a gay wizard with a boyfriend was a little different than presenting him with the reality. Arthur changed the subject. “I've never seen a wyvern.”
“Then you should come and meet mine.”
“You really want me to come with you?” Arthur hadn't let himself hope.
“Yes, Arthur, I do. And I'm not taking no for an answer.”
“I was afraid of that.”
“Unless you can't pack and you're too embarrassed to say.”
“I can pack. With less dramatics than you,”Arthur said, pointing to the items floating about Merlin's suitcase.
“Good., because I already told my mother you'd be coming.”
“When did you tell her that?”
“When you said you weren't sure what you were doing over Christmas. She really wants to meet you.”
Arthur groaned. He felt more nervous than he had when he'd arrived in Camelot. He had no doubt that Merlin's mother was nice, that both of Merlin's parents were nice, but he had to make a good impression. He cared deeply about Merlin and wanted to see him happy.
Gwaine and Lancelot who took them to the station and helped with their luggage, small as it was with just Arthur's rucksack and Merlin’s suitcase. They boarded a small train that was heading out to the outlying villages, one of which was Ealdor. It was the closest village to the wyvern reservation where Merlin and his parents lived.
“It's still the best way to travel,” Merlin said. “Transparating's difficult with all the wards in place.”
At least Arthur had learnt enough about wards to know that magically transporting yourself close to wards was a sure fire way to be injured or worse. He was just hoping that he wouldn’t make some kind of faux pas about something else magical that would embarrass Merlin. Merlin still said things that Arthur needed explaining; such as why exactly you never left gold in plain sight of a goblin.
“Thank you for inviting me, Merlin,” Arthur said, perhaps a little too formally.
“You're welcome, Arthur,” Merlin replied, smiling.
In his cage, Archimedes squawked. The owl had not been happy to have to go back in a cage after months of freedom, flying where he wanted to, when he wanted to, but Merlin had refused to let him fly home on his own, so he had to grin and bear it.
Merlin's mother met them at the station. Ealdor station was tiny, really it was just a platform, there were no station buildings, just one very old sign on a crumbling platform. Ivy grew everywhere, and even the rails appeared rusty. Apparently not many people travelled to Ealdor, at least by train.
Arthur and Merlin were the only two getting off at Ealdor, the train had emptied pretty much already as students went home to their villages. Once they got onto the platform Arthur saw Merlin's mother waiting for them, recognising her from the brief moment he'd spoken to her at the station, which seemed like a lifetime ago.
“Merlin!” she called and immediately Merlin was swept up in a hug. “You look so well,” she smiled, kissing his forehead.
A little bit of jealousy flared in Arthur. He'd never had a parent greet him with a hug and a kiss, although his mother probably would have, had she been alive. As it was he felt awkward, until Merlin's mother let go of her son and came up to Arthur, smiling.
“Arthur,” she said, enveloping him in a hug. Arthur felt a little awkward, unsure about whether to put his arms around her or not. He tried it in the end, although it still felt awkward.
Merlin's mother pulled back. “Merlin's told us so much about you,” she said.
“All good I hope?”
She laughed. “Of course. Merlin seems quite taken with you.”
“Mum!”
“It's nice to meet you, Mrs Emrys.”
“Call me Hunith,” she replied.
“Hunith,” Arthur repeated. He wasn't used to such easy informality. Clearly this was the parent Merlin had inherited his friendly nature from.
“It's just a short walk to the house,” Hunith said, cheerfully. “Can you manage your things?”
“Yes, thank you,” Arthur replied. He only had his rucksack to worry about. Merlin had apparently 'enlarged it' using magic. Arthur was hoping it wouldn't swallow him up when he unpacked.
It was dark as they walked along, the winter sun had long since set, so Arthur was unable to see what was normally beautiful countryside. Of course, that didn't prevent Merlin from attempting to point out the various landmarks of his childhood.
“I felled that tree over there when I was six,” he said, pointing to a dark lump. “And that's the field where I rode my first wyvern.”
“I can't see, Merlin,” Arthur said, and he knew Merlin would be pouting. “You rode wyverns?” he asked, trying to stop Merlin sulking
It worked, Merlin told him in great detail how, at the age of seven, he had persuaded one of the wyverns to sit down so he could ride it.
“He wasn't very happy,” Merlin said, “but he didn't throw me off right away.
Soon they arrived at Merlin's parents' house. From the outside it appeared to be a small cottage, much smaller than the house Arthur had grown up in. The stone walls looked slightly uneven, giving the cottage an odd look, as if it had been corroded by the wind. The roof too seemed crooked, and there was a chimney that appeared to lean to one side. The whole thing looked pretty unstable, and Arthur wondered if it wasn't all held together with magic. He hoped it was held together with something.
The front door was white, though the paint was peeling, and Hunith opened it with a wave of her hand, beckoning Merlin and Arthur inside. “Come in,” she said.
Stepping inside Arthur wondered if he had stepped into a different house, or possibly the TARDIS, as inside it was much larger. It wasn't a mansion, but the hallway was quite large, and airy, with plenty of space, and there was a staircase leading up, though the cottage hadn't even seemed big enough for another level from the outside.
The whole place felt very homely. There were odds and ends all over the place, and the hall had a couple of shelves of odd looking knick knacks, yet it didn’t feel cluttered. The floorboards were bare, apart from the odd brightly patterned rug covering parts of it. The walls were white and clean.
“Yeah, it's bigger on the inside,” Merlin said.
“Should I take my shoes off?” Arthur asked.
“Why would you need to take your shoes off?”
“I don’t want to leave muddy footprints on your mother's clean floor,” Arthur replied.
“Oh don’t worry, the mop and bucket will clear them up.”
Arthur vaguely recalled seeing mops moving by themselves in Camelot. He guessed Merlin meant the home version of that. Keeping his shoes on he followed Hunith and Merlin into the sitting room, which was also larger than he had expected and which matched the look of the hallway. There were shelves full of things, and a large set of bookshelves.
There was a roaring fireplace, surrounded by several soft, comfortable looking chairs. Photographs were dotted all around, several of Merlin as a child, they moved in their frames as Arthur looked at them. Of course there was no television, radio, or any other modern appliance. It was old fashioned but comforting, and very pleasant.
“What do you think?” Merlin asked.
“It's very nice,” Arthur replied. “Homely.”
Merlin was beaming. Even Archimedes looked happier.
“Thank you, Arthur,” Hunith said, smiling. “I did ask Merlin’s father to be here but he gets so involved with those wyverns of his. It's almost time for something to eat so he'll be back soon. In the meantime Merlin can take you upstairs. Will you be all right sharing a room? I've made Merlin's bed bigger.”
Arthur blushed a little, wondering how aware Hunith was of the nature of his and Merlin's relationship. Merlin seemed a little embarrassed as well, if the red tint of his cheeks was any indication. “That will be fine,” Arthur said. “Won’t it Merlin?”
“Oh yes. As long as you don't steal all the covers,” he muttered.
“Just expand the blanket, Merlin,” Hunith said, laughing. She turned to Arthur. “Don't let Merlin fool you, he's been making his bedding bigger since he was a child.”
“Mum!” Merlin looked really embarrassed now, so Arthur decided to do the chivalrous thing.
“Let's see your room then, Merlin,” Arthur said, looking upstairs. “Lead the way.”
“Careful you don't trip,” Merlin said.
“Your stairs don't move, do they?”
“No, but sometimes the rugs like to crawl up here to sleep.”
Arthur looked down, hoping he'd be able to pick out any sleeping rugs. Occasionally he glanced up as they walked but mostly he focussed on his feet and the stairs. There seemed an awful lot of them before they reached the top, and Arthur could breathe a sigh of relief after he'd avoided any rug related mishaps.
Merlin's door was the first one they came to. He followed Merlin inside the dark room. He heard Merlin whisper the spell for light and the room became brighter at once.
“No such thing as light switches then?” he asked. He wasn't even sure where the light was coming from.
“One day you’re going to have to show me what a light switch is,” Merlin replied, placing his things down in the centre of the room.
Having lived with Merlin for a few months, Arthur had got used to a bit of clutter. Merlin did, to his credit, tidy things up when Arthur mentioned them. A good job, or they would have been buried under parchment and Merlin's clothes within a few days. At home, Merlin didn't have a room-mate to please, and as a result the room was full of clutter.
Piles of books lay on the floor, whilst the book shelves themselves were filled with odd trinkets and photographs. Arthur picked out the remains of an egg shell, and judging by the size it hadn't belonged to any creature he knew. There were bottles of bright coloured powders next to it, and string hanging down with what seemed to be fangs on them.
Merlin's floor was littered with clothing, despite there being a large wardrobe against one wall. It wouldn't have surprised Arthur if Merlin old him the wardrobe led to Narnia. Looking up at the ceiling it seemed as if the house had no roof. Arthur watched Arthur was looking as stars danced across a deep blue night sky.
“So, what do you think?” Merlin asked, letting Archimedes out of his cage. The owl immediately flew over to perch on the wardrobe.
“Well, it's a good job you have a room mate or you would have gone missing after a couple of weeks of being at Camelot,” Arthur said. “You would have been found months later under piles of your stuff.”
“It's not that bad,” Merlin said, looking around. “You should have seen it before I left for Camelot.”
“Would we have been able to get through the door?”
Merlin just gave Arthur a look and went to sit on the bed. “Do you want to try it out?” he asked.
“With your mother in the house?”
Merlin rolled his eyes. “Arthur, we're going to be sleeping on it. Unless you want to sleep on the floor?”
Arthur looked down at the mess around him. “I don't think there's room.”
“So, come on, sit on the bed.”
Deciding resistance would be futile, Arthur came and sat down next to Merlin. The bed gave way a little and Arthur wondered if that was because it was old, or because it had been made bigger.
“What do you think?” Merlin asked.
“I think I'll be able to sleep on it,” Arthur replied, deliberately leaning closer.
“Are you sure about the sleeping?” Merlin asked.
Arthur wasn't so sure not that Merlin was close enough to kiss. He closed his eyes and was leaning forward to press his lips to Merlin's when they were interrupted.
“Merlin! Arthur! Time for something to eat!” Hunith called.
Arthur opened his eyes and looked at Merlin with disappointment.
“I'm sorry about my mother,” Merlin said. “She just likes to feed people.”
“She's not spying on us, is she?” Arthur asked. “After Morgana tried to scry to see what we were doing when...”
“My mother would never spy on us,” Merlin said, squeezing Arthur's hand. “And she doesn't mind you being here.”
“She does know about us, right?”
“Why do you think she made the bed bigger?” Merlin grinned.
“Boys! Come on!” Hunith called again.
“We should go and get something to eat,” Merlin said, standing up. “My mother's cooking isn't as good as Camelot's but it's edible.”
“That's very reassuring, Merlin.”
Leaving Merlin's room and going down the stairs Arthur was careful to avoid any rugs, only having to step over one which was sleeping on the middle stair. When they reached the bottom they came face to face with a man Arthur recognised from Merlin's photographs; Merlin's father.
“Dad!” Merlin said, practically launching himself at his father.
“Merlin!” He laughed, and enveloped him a hug.
It was a sign of affection Arthur had never had from his own father, and he felt another twinge of jealousy at the fact Merlin's parents clearly weren't shy about showing their affection for him.
“When did you get back?” Merlin asked.
“Just now.” The man, Balinor, Arthur remembered his name was, smiled. He glanced over at Arthur. “This your boyfriend, is it?”
“Yes, this is Arthur. Arthur, this is my father: Balinor.”
Balinor held out a hand and Arthur took it, receiving a firm shake. “Pleased to meet you sir.”
“Call me Balinor,” he replied. “You do look like Ygraine.” He smiled sadly. “I knew your mother quite well when we were younger.”
Arthur wanted to ask how well, and what Balinor could tell him about his mother, but at that moment Hunith bustled into the hallway. “The food's getting cold and I don't want to have to heat it up again,” she said. “Come on.”
Family dinners with Merlin and his parents were much different to the awkward, stilted ones Arthur had had at home. There were no awkward silences, or indeed any silences at all. Merlin talked animately about Camelot, mostly about what he and Arthur had done together, Arthur noted. Sometimes, Merlin would pause long enough for Arthur to interject, and Hunith and Balinor both asked him questions.
“Fighting a cockatrice is a dangerous undertaking,” Balinor said. “You're very brave.”
“I had Merlin there,” Arthur replied. “And we didn't have a choice.”
“You did very well,” Hunith said, quietly. “I'm proud of you both.”
Arthur was stunned that anyone could be proud of him. Uther rarely said anything like that, and here was his boyfriend's mother telling Arthur she was proud of him.
“Thank you.”
Talk turned to wyverns and by the end of the meal Arthur felt when they tackled wyverns in Professor Mandrake's lectures he'd be able to get full marks. Balinor promised to take both of them out to see the wyvern colony the next day. Merlin assured Arthur he'd enjoy it.
After the meal was over Arthur offered to help with the clearing up but Hunith just looked at him sadly, as if he didn't understand.
“You don't need to help,” she said. “Watch.”
Arthur did watch as the plates and cutlery began to float. They rose up off the table and floated across the room to the kitchen door, which opened to let them through.
“They're going to wash themselves up?” Arthur guessed.
“Yes,” Hunith replied. “A bit different to what you're used to.”
Arthur nodded. Of course at Camelot the table did always clear itself but Arthur hadn't thought such magic would apply to the home as well. In a way, Camelot had stood apart, a magical place on its own, but magic was part of everything in Avalon. It was an intrinsic part of the world.
“It's a good different,” Arthur said, finally.
After the dinner things had cleared themselves up Merlin was sent to check on the wyvern nest in the shed at the back of the house. Arthur suspected it was a deliberate ploy, as Balinor and Hunith stayed behind, waiting until Merlin was out of earshot before speaking.
“Don't look worried, Arthur,” Hunith said. “We just want a talk.”
“Is this about Merlin and me?” he asked.
Both of Merlin's parents nodded.
“If it's a problem....”
“Oh no!” Hunith replied. “We understand.”
Balinor nodded. “Hunith and I met on the train to Camelot and we've not been apart since.” Grasping his wife's hand, Balinor smiled. “We want you to know we support you.”
“Thank you,” Arthur said. He took things with Merlin one day at a time. They'd been together just a couple of months, and it was too early to think about forever, but sometimes Arthur felt as if they didn't have to, as if it had already been decided that forever was exactly what they would have together.
“Merlin made a good choice with you,” Hunith said. “Kilgharrah said he would.”
“Professor Kilgharrah spoke to you about it?”
Balinor laughed. “Nothing gets past that old dragon. That's why every couple that comes out of Camelot stays together. You can't argue with destiny.”
“Destiny,” Arthur murmured.
“Does your father know?” Hunith asked.
“I wrote him a letter,” Arthur replied. “I don't really know what he thinks.” Arthur wished he knew how his father felt about it.
“Ygraine would have been proud of you,” Hunith said, touching Arthur's cheek. “She was a good friend.”
“Could you tell me about her?” Arthur asked.
Hunith nodded. “We will. First though we want to show you something.”
She got up and went to a small cupboard, brought out a large photo album bound in leather and laid it on the table. “It wouldn’t be a first meeting with your boyfriend's parents if we didn't show you embarrassing pictures of Merlin when he was a baby.”
Although Arthur had been hoping the pictures were of his mother he couldn’t be disappointed, not as Hunith opened the album to a picture of a tiny, newborn Merlin, fast asleep. As she turned the page Merlin got bigger, and Arthur had to admit he was a cute looking baby.
By the time Merlin returned Arthur was chuckling over a naked Merlin, about two years old, waving a couple of flowers, whilst being licked by a baby wyvern.
“I knew I shouldn't have left,” Merlin groaned.
*****************************************************************************
In bed together that night Arthur felt the urge to snuggle close. He didn't get to share a bed with Merlin at Camelot often; their beds were too small to make a habit of it, and resolutely refused to come together, so he was determined to make the most of the opportunity.
“You were a cute baby,” Arthur said, kissing Merlin's temple.
“Of course I was,” Merlin replied.
“Chubby too.”
“Everyone has puppy fat.”
“Merlin, it wasn't an insult.”
“My mother showed you my embarrassing baby pictures,” Merlin groaned, burying his face in Arthur's neck.
“Your father was there as well. It was...nice. Your parents are wonderful.”
Merlin shifted and looked at Arthur. “You like them?”
“I love them.” Arthur kissed the tip of Merlin's nose. “Not the same way I love you, obviously.” He tightened his hold on Merlin. “Thank you, Merlin.”
“Happy Christmas, Arthur,” Merlin whispered.
PART FIVE