We've Only Just Begun
Title: We've Only Just Begun
Pairing(s): pre-slash Merlin/Arthur, if you squint really hard, but it's meant to be gen
Rating: PG? I guess
Warnings/Spoilers: specific ones for 1x07
Summary: Merlin realizes just what his destiny entails.
Disclaimer: Do not own Merlin.
A/N: Ooh, my first canon!Merlin fic. Probably going to be the only one for a while; I rather like modernAU!Merlin. Anyway, this is just an idea that I've had ever since...four or five months ago, when I first watched 1x07. Ideas that have been rolling around in my head never really work out well, but I like writing them anyway so ^^; Enjoy.
It was a good thing, Merlin supposed, that his destiny had been drawn out for him, because he had never really known what he wanted to do in the first place.
Before arriving at Camelot, he had long resigned himself to the fact that he would have to hide his magic forever, and that he would live with the fear of being discovered for the rest of his life. He hadn’t had much higher hopes than that; living in Ealdor, the most he would end up doing was farming. And he hadn’t really minded that-still didn’t, in fact, since it was much more appealing than being Arthur’s manservant and Gaius’s apprentice at the same time-as long as it meant food on the table and a decent family life when he grew older. In retrospect, it had been a bit naïve of him to assume that he could live in Ealdor forever, what with the suspicious whispering and disapproving glares. But, as hostile as the atmosphere was, it was his home. Or, had been.
Merlin still hadn’t expected much else when he was sent to Camelot. He would probably just end up working under Gaius for a few years before the aggression in Ealdor died down and he could return home. And then, even after his first meeting with the Great Dragon and becoming Arthur’s manservant, it hadn’t really dawned on him just what this ‘destiny’ thing implied. To be fair, he had been too busy getting used to the prat for it to fully sink in; it was hard to contemplate the importance of their very existences when Arthur was shouting at him and cuffing him over the head and nearly killing him in combat practice and making him wear weird outfits to feasts just to spite him and mucking things up on purpose just so Merlin could clean it up for him and teasing him about random love interests that didn’t exist and coming up with new and unusual ways to tell Merlin how much of a buffoon he is and-
The significance of it all had been a vague concept kept at the back of his mind until-until Merlin was here, with Arthur and his damned armor sinking further and further into the lake, out of arm’s reach. Briefly, amidst all the panic and impending doom and lack of air, Merlin made a mental note to look up a spell that made armor lighter, because as helpful as it was in protecting Arthur, it was making his job a hell of a lot more difficult at the moment.
It felt completely hopeless, as if they would continue to go on like this forever, and Merlin was completely terrified of things that lasted forever. It meant that Arthur would always be drifting away, just out of reach, and Merlin would always be swimming after him, feet never finding purchase and fingers always searching for the arm he was reaching for but never finding it. He would always be fighting all his instincts to breathe in lest he flood his lungs with water, vigilant and careful as to not accidentally forget to not breathe. He knew he couldn’t fight this for much longer, however; eventually, his body would act of its own accord and before he knew it, he would be a drowning useless sod. Yet what else was he supposed to do, when he was the only one that could save Arthur? What else was he supposed to do when the future was floating away and he was the only one close enough to grab it-when Arthur was dying and Merlin was dying and there was no one around to save either of them?
But we’re not supposed to die here, his thoughts echoed throughout his head, oddly calm while Merlin was on the brink of drowning and Arthur was still slipping away. We’re meant for better things than this. You don’t honestly think it’s all going to end at the bottom of a lake, do you?
There was a moment when Merlin’s thoughts started piecing together what he knew would eventually be Camelot under Arthur’s rule-what would eventually be their kingdom. They envisioned himself and other warlocks in Camelot, epic battles with explosions of magic in the sky and Arthur and his knights fighting alongside them. They envisioned King Arthur, weary and wrinkled and taxed with responsibility, but they also envisioned King Arthur, strong and noble and standing over his people promising the truest and finest reign they would ever see and completely meaning it. They envisioned Merlin at his side, sharing knowing glances and private laughs and heated arguments-but really, that part wasn’t very new-and carrying the weight of a great kingdom on both of their shoulders.
They envisioned so many amazing things that weren’t just dreams, they were assured to happen. They envisioned the future.
And, for Merlin, these thoughts were enough.
Faintly, Merlin felt his magic act as an extension of himself and pull Arthur towards him, armor and all, and it propelled him upwards, through the cold murkiness surrounding them until finally--finally--they reached fresh air. For a long time, Merlin felt completely numb. The only thing he could recognize was Arthur’s weight against him, the familiar shape of his head and the water slippery against his armor and his heart, beating so loudly and warmly that he could even feel it resounding through himself.
For a long time, Merlin could only feel the weight of someone else’s life depending on his own.
Pairing(s): pre-slash Merlin/Arthur, if you squint really hard, but it's meant to be gen
Rating: PG? I guess
Warnings/Spoilers: specific ones for 1x07
Summary: Merlin realizes just what his destiny entails.
Disclaimer: Do not own Merlin.
A/N: Ooh, my first canon!Merlin fic. Probably going to be the only one for a while; I rather like modernAU!Merlin. Anyway, this is just an idea that I've had ever since...four or five months ago, when I first watched 1x07. Ideas that have been rolling around in my head never really work out well, but I like writing them anyway so ^^; Enjoy.
It was a good thing, Merlin supposed, that his destiny had been drawn out for him, because he had never really known what he wanted to do in the first place.
Before arriving at Camelot, he had long resigned himself to the fact that he would have to hide his magic forever, and that he would live with the fear of being discovered for the rest of his life. He hadn’t had much higher hopes than that; living in Ealdor, the most he would end up doing was farming. And he hadn’t really minded that-still didn’t, in fact, since it was much more appealing than being Arthur’s manservant and Gaius’s apprentice at the same time-as long as it meant food on the table and a decent family life when he grew older. In retrospect, it had been a bit naïve of him to assume that he could live in Ealdor forever, what with the suspicious whispering and disapproving glares. But, as hostile as the atmosphere was, it was his home. Or, had been.
Merlin still hadn’t expected much else when he was sent to Camelot. He would probably just end up working under Gaius for a few years before the aggression in Ealdor died down and he could return home. And then, even after his first meeting with the Great Dragon and becoming Arthur’s manservant, it hadn’t really dawned on him just what this ‘destiny’ thing implied. To be fair, he had been too busy getting used to the prat for it to fully sink in; it was hard to contemplate the importance of their very existences when Arthur was shouting at him and cuffing him over the head and nearly killing him in combat practice and making him wear weird outfits to feasts just to spite him and mucking things up on purpose just so Merlin could clean it up for him and teasing him about random love interests that didn’t exist and coming up with new and unusual ways to tell Merlin how much of a buffoon he is and-
The significance of it all had been a vague concept kept at the back of his mind until-until Merlin was here, with Arthur and his damned armor sinking further and further into the lake, out of arm’s reach. Briefly, amidst all the panic and impending doom and lack of air, Merlin made a mental note to look up a spell that made armor lighter, because as helpful as it was in protecting Arthur, it was making his job a hell of a lot more difficult at the moment.
It felt completely hopeless, as if they would continue to go on like this forever, and Merlin was completely terrified of things that lasted forever. It meant that Arthur would always be drifting away, just out of reach, and Merlin would always be swimming after him, feet never finding purchase and fingers always searching for the arm he was reaching for but never finding it. He would always be fighting all his instincts to breathe in lest he flood his lungs with water, vigilant and careful as to not accidentally forget to not breathe. He knew he couldn’t fight this for much longer, however; eventually, his body would act of its own accord and before he knew it, he would be a drowning useless sod. Yet what else was he supposed to do, when he was the only one that could save Arthur? What else was he supposed to do when the future was floating away and he was the only one close enough to grab it-when Arthur was dying and Merlin was dying and there was no one around to save either of them?
But we’re not supposed to die here, his thoughts echoed throughout his head, oddly calm while Merlin was on the brink of drowning and Arthur was still slipping away. We’re meant for better things than this. You don’t honestly think it’s all going to end at the bottom of a lake, do you?
There was a moment when Merlin’s thoughts started piecing together what he knew would eventually be Camelot under Arthur’s rule-what would eventually be their kingdom. They envisioned himself and other warlocks in Camelot, epic battles with explosions of magic in the sky and Arthur and his knights fighting alongside them. They envisioned King Arthur, weary and wrinkled and taxed with responsibility, but they also envisioned King Arthur, strong and noble and standing over his people promising the truest and finest reign they would ever see and completely meaning it. They envisioned Merlin at his side, sharing knowing glances and private laughs and heated arguments-but really, that part wasn’t very new-and carrying the weight of a great kingdom on both of their shoulders.
They envisioned so many amazing things that weren’t just dreams, they were assured to happen. They envisioned the future.
And, for Merlin, these thoughts were enough.
Faintly, Merlin felt his magic act as an extension of himself and pull Arthur towards him, armor and all, and it propelled him upwards, through the cold murkiness surrounding them until finally--finally--they reached fresh air. For a long time, Merlin felt completely numb. The only thing he could recognize was Arthur’s weight against him, the familiar shape of his head and the water slippery against his armor and his heart, beating so loudly and warmly that he could even feel it resounding through himself.
For a long time, Merlin could only feel the weight of someone else’s life depending on his own.