Fic: Quintessence
Title: Quintessence
Fandom: BBC's Merlin
Pairing: slight Arthur/Merlin
Rating: G
Wordcount: 1200
Spoilers: Reference to 1x13
Summary: What is magic, Gaius?
AN: Written for the tamingthemuse prompt quintessence
What is magic, Gaius? he asked one afternoon when they were sitting together weighing ingredients for a tincture.
Gaius silenced him with one of those looks that combined warning with understanding with weariness. The world is divided into four elements, you know that, Gaius said after a long pause, when Merlin thought his question was going to go unanswered. Earth, Air, Fire and Water.
Like we used to defeat the Afanc, Merlin interjected
Yes, Gaius replied in a tone that told Merlin that if he interrupted again he wouldn’t learn what he wanted. So, weighing his options, Merlin chose to stay silent.
Magic is the fifth element, Gaius told him. It is the basis of everything, the glue that binds the other four elements, the strings that tie the world together. It is the substance that encompasses everything, that flows to fill the gaps where otherwise there would be nothing at all. It is what we are all made of.
But some of us - and Gaius raised his eyebrows at Merlin - some of us more so than others. And this gives these people a power far greater than any other. It is a blessing and it is a curse. It can be a great good or a great evil, depending on the wielder.
It must only be used with great care and forethought and only ever for good.
Do you understand?
*
Merlin stood on the hillside, high above Camelot. From here he could not see so much as the tops of the towers and he know that nobody looking would be able to see him either.
Around him the land was peaceful. It was early summer, too late for planting, too early for harvest. The woods were soft and green and humming with life and the sun after many days of rain instilled a warm happiness into Merlin.
Today was a good day.
He rotated on the balls of his feet, after kicking off his boots, his arms outstretched - one last check that there was nobody around - and then he tilted his head back and opened himself up, letting the magic bubbling under his skin flow to the surface.
Since his confrontation with Nimueh, his unexpected surge of power, it had felt as though something inside him had burst, some door had been unlocked, and he could sense the swirls of magic inside him, jostling for freedom.
And he’d realised that he didn’t need incantations. That the words of the spells were merely prisms through which to reflect his power, funnels through which to channel his magic. They weren’t essential at all. All he needed to do was focus.
He opened himself up to the world, feeling the sun on his arms and face, the grass beneath his bare feet. He unfurled himself, like the petals of a spring flower, reaching out like the first rays of sun at dawn. He sank tendrils down into the moist ground, sent curls of power up into the awakening sky.
He could feel the earth thrum with life, the air hum with meaning, with millions of sounds, and he could hear every one of them. He could feel the leaves moving in the breeze, the ripples of the stream he’d barely known existed a moment before.
He could see with the hawk’s sharp eyes and hear with the ears of its field mouse prey.
Everything was connected.
He closed his eyes, because he didn’t need them to see anymore.
In the direction of the city he could feel the people, each going about their daily business. He could feel their wants, their needs, their hopes and fears, in a complicated jumble that buzzed along his nerves as though over that hill was a seething hive of industrious bees.
Without knowing what it was that he was doing, or how exactly he was doing it, Merlin chased along those tangled lines of lives, separating individuals.
Gaius, in his workroom, was worried. The kitchenmaid with the young baby was sick again. Below that Merlin could feel confidence, and contentment, a soft yellow rumbling not unlike the purring of a cat.
Gwen was in Morgana’s chambers, standing behind her chair and brushing her hair. Merlin could feel the chatter of their teasing talk although he couldn’t distinguish the words, feeling merely the soft pink glow of their fondness for one another wrapping them in a safe cocoon.
Uther was at his table, working through some legal papers. Merlin could feel weariness and surface irritation. Below that he could feel love. Waves and waves of love, rolling out a deep, warm red, across the country, radiating out from the king across his kingdom. It had focal points: most strongly Arthur, but also Gaius and Morgana, beyond that flowed an enveloping, caring love that the king held for his subjects and a sharp, immediate desire to keep them safe from harm.
Merlin almost lost his connection, he was so surprised by this discovery. And yet, he realised, perhaps he should not have been.
Finally, he allowed himself to find the thread that was Arthur, the thread that he had seen burning brightly in the tangle of lives. It came as no surprise to discover that Prince Arthur was irritated, and that he was looking for his manservant. Below that thrummed a low purple thread of worry and a deeper orange knot of curiosity.
But below that, steady and constant, tangled inseparably with Arthur’s irritation with Merlin, was a rich vein of gold that hummed and shimmered throughout all his thoughts. And, feeling that emotion, strong and sure and undeniable, Merlin was suffused with a warmth of returned feeling.
Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes. The world around him looked exactly the same. He raised a hand to his face, almost expecting himself to be glowing.
Because, right now, he was everything. He was all the fibres of being, connected to everyone and everything in a gigantic cobweb of senses and sounds and knowledges. And he realised what it was that he had, and how easy, how very easy it would be, to gorge himself on this kind of power.
He took another deep breath and released his hold on his magic, letting it sink back into him and settle just under his skin.
For a moment he felt blind, as though all his senses had been cut off when he severed the connection: the sights and sounds of the world were no longer his to experience. He wobbled on his feet, feeling drunk with knowledge, with awareness of what he could do.
He knelt in the dirt and breathed deeply, in and out, in and out, letting the rushing blood still, the trembling cease, pushing away all vestiges of heady impulse, letting the rhythms of his own mortal body reassert their control.
Then, when he was sure that he could stand, he made his way back down the hill to Camelot.
*
Yes, Gaius, I understand, Merlin said.
Fandom: BBC's Merlin
Pairing: slight Arthur/Merlin
Rating: G
Wordcount: 1200
Spoilers: Reference to 1x13
Summary: What is magic, Gaius?
AN: Written for the tamingthemuse prompt quintessence
What is magic, Gaius? he asked one afternoon when they were sitting together weighing ingredients for a tincture.
Gaius silenced him with one of those looks that combined warning with understanding with weariness. The world is divided into four elements, you know that, Gaius said after a long pause, when Merlin thought his question was going to go unanswered. Earth, Air, Fire and Water.
Like we used to defeat the Afanc, Merlin interjected
Yes, Gaius replied in a tone that told Merlin that if he interrupted again he wouldn’t learn what he wanted. So, weighing his options, Merlin chose to stay silent.
Magic is the fifth element, Gaius told him. It is the basis of everything, the glue that binds the other four elements, the strings that tie the world together. It is the substance that encompasses everything, that flows to fill the gaps where otherwise there would be nothing at all. It is what we are all made of.
But some of us - and Gaius raised his eyebrows at Merlin - some of us more so than others. And this gives these people a power far greater than any other. It is a blessing and it is a curse. It can be a great good or a great evil, depending on the wielder.
It must only be used with great care and forethought and only ever for good.
Do you understand?
*
Merlin stood on the hillside, high above Camelot. From here he could not see so much as the tops of the towers and he know that nobody looking would be able to see him either.
Around him the land was peaceful. It was early summer, too late for planting, too early for harvest. The woods were soft and green and humming with life and the sun after many days of rain instilled a warm happiness into Merlin.
Today was a good day.
He rotated on the balls of his feet, after kicking off his boots, his arms outstretched - one last check that there was nobody around - and then he tilted his head back and opened himself up, letting the magic bubbling under his skin flow to the surface.
Since his confrontation with Nimueh, his unexpected surge of power, it had felt as though something inside him had burst, some door had been unlocked, and he could sense the swirls of magic inside him, jostling for freedom.
And he’d realised that he didn’t need incantations. That the words of the spells were merely prisms through which to reflect his power, funnels through which to channel his magic. They weren’t essential at all. All he needed to do was focus.
He opened himself up to the world, feeling the sun on his arms and face, the grass beneath his bare feet. He unfurled himself, like the petals of a spring flower, reaching out like the first rays of sun at dawn. He sank tendrils down into the moist ground, sent curls of power up into the awakening sky.
He could feel the earth thrum with life, the air hum with meaning, with millions of sounds, and he could hear every one of them. He could feel the leaves moving in the breeze, the ripples of the stream he’d barely known existed a moment before.
He could see with the hawk’s sharp eyes and hear with the ears of its field mouse prey.
Everything was connected.
He closed his eyes, because he didn’t need them to see anymore.
In the direction of the city he could feel the people, each going about their daily business. He could feel their wants, their needs, their hopes and fears, in a complicated jumble that buzzed along his nerves as though over that hill was a seething hive of industrious bees.
Without knowing what it was that he was doing, or how exactly he was doing it, Merlin chased along those tangled lines of lives, separating individuals.
Gaius, in his workroom, was worried. The kitchenmaid with the young baby was sick again. Below that Merlin could feel confidence, and contentment, a soft yellow rumbling not unlike the purring of a cat.
Gwen was in Morgana’s chambers, standing behind her chair and brushing her hair. Merlin could feel the chatter of their teasing talk although he couldn’t distinguish the words, feeling merely the soft pink glow of their fondness for one another wrapping them in a safe cocoon.
Uther was at his table, working through some legal papers. Merlin could feel weariness and surface irritation. Below that he could feel love. Waves and waves of love, rolling out a deep, warm red, across the country, radiating out from the king across his kingdom. It had focal points: most strongly Arthur, but also Gaius and Morgana, beyond that flowed an enveloping, caring love that the king held for his subjects and a sharp, immediate desire to keep them safe from harm.
Merlin almost lost his connection, he was so surprised by this discovery. And yet, he realised, perhaps he should not have been.
Finally, he allowed himself to find the thread that was Arthur, the thread that he had seen burning brightly in the tangle of lives. It came as no surprise to discover that Prince Arthur was irritated, and that he was looking for his manservant. Below that thrummed a low purple thread of worry and a deeper orange knot of curiosity.
But below that, steady and constant, tangled inseparably with Arthur’s irritation with Merlin, was a rich vein of gold that hummed and shimmered throughout all his thoughts. And, feeling that emotion, strong and sure and undeniable, Merlin was suffused with a warmth of returned feeling.
Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes. The world around him looked exactly the same. He raised a hand to his face, almost expecting himself to be glowing.
Because, right now, he was everything. He was all the fibres of being, connected to everyone and everything in a gigantic cobweb of senses and sounds and knowledges. And he realised what it was that he had, and how easy, how very easy it would be, to gorge himself on this kind of power.
He took another deep breath and released his hold on his magic, letting it sink back into him and settle just under his skin.
For a moment he felt blind, as though all his senses had been cut off when he severed the connection: the sights and sounds of the world were no longer his to experience. He wobbled on his feet, feeling drunk with knowledge, with awareness of what he could do.
He knelt in the dirt and breathed deeply, in and out, in and out, letting the rushing blood still, the trembling cease, pushing away all vestiges of heady impulse, letting the rhythms of his own mortal body reassert their control.
Then, when he was sure that he could stand, he made his way back down the hill to Camelot.
*
Yes, Gaius, I understand, Merlin said.