Merlin fic - Dewiniaeth
In retrospect, going collecting herbs and other assorted plants in one of the more isolated parts of the forest with only Gwen for company was a bad idea. Going on to investigate an even darker hollow without Gwen was an even worse idea, but as Arthur constantly reminds him, Merlin frequently forgets to make the distinction between good and bad ideas.
Which is probably why he ends up curled into a ball on the forest floor, body racked with pain and wishing he could get even the barest ounce of control back so he could blast the sorceress currently standing over him with a cruel smile on her lips. Nimueh is, if possible, even more set on killing him this time around, although it does cross Merlin's mind, in between all the whimpering and wishing he'd never agreed to work for Gaius, why she hasn't just finished him off.
Then she starts to talk, and of course she's going to explain while he can barely hear through the rushing in his ears.
He catches something about destiny, and manages a groan at hearing the damned word again. It's starting to lose all meaning, what with the amount of times the dragon booms it at him during their incredibly confusing chats. Then she says something about Arthur, which makes Merlin try even harder to break whatever spell she's cast this time, but it's still impossible.
He hears Gwen shouting his name, drawing Nimueh's attention long enough for her hold to weaken the barest amount. Gwen comes crashing through the trees, heedless of the danger, and drops to her knees by Merlin's side.
Merlin tries to croak out a warning, but he's too weak to make anything other than a sound which may or may not be Gwen's name, and gesture roughly in the direction of the sorceress. Worryingly, Nimueh isn't doing anything, is merely watching with the same cruel smile twisting her mouth.
"Wha-" Merlin coughs harshly and tries again, "what the hell?" Okay, so it's not elegant, or even particularly clear, but it'll do. Nimueh watches him silently for a moment. Just as he's about to think sod it and give into the darkness pressing against the edges of his eyes, she speaks.
"If you want to be yourself again, young warlock, it is simple. You will have to lie with a man." Merlin knows that word, he really does, but it makes no sense. Gwen makes a small, choked off sound behind him and Nimueh's smile gets wider. "And I think we both know who that will have to be, don't we."
She raises her arms and the wind starts to swirl around them, unnatural in its speed and intensity, the way it focuses on Nimueh and leaves Merlin and Gwen alone, for the most part. Nimueh's form begins to shift and waver; Merlin tries desperately to reach his magic, to stop her before she escapes again, but he can't.
"Do this for me and you might even live." Her words reach him through the windstorm, their tone mocking. "Of course, I can't say the same for him."
Her laughter echoes around the hollow as the wind suddenly drops, and with it goes the spell binding Merlin. Magic snaps back into his body, the rush helping clear his head. He pushes himself up onto his hands and takes a deep breath, fervently wishing he'd never set foot in the blasted forest. "Gwen? Are you alright?"
"Am I alright?" She sounds slightly hysterical, but her hands are steady as she helps Merlin sit up. "Merlin, are you-how did-why did-you're a GIRL!"
Merlin looks down and hey, what do you know, he is.
This could take some explaining.
--
Gwen makes him sit still with his head between his knees, which makes him feel utterly foolish but also helps get rid of the residual dizziness. His trousers are much too tight around his hips, but apart from that Merlin can't tell by simply looking that he's not what he's supposed to be.
Namely, male.
Every movement feels strange and like he doesn't have complete control of himself, which is fun in a sort of bizarre way, right up until it becomes frustrating and makes him fumble the waterskin that Gwen hands him. A few drops of the cold liquid fall onto the bare skin of his wrist where his sleeve has been pushed up, making him jump.
Even that feels like too much.
Merlin wipes the water droplets away angrily and makes a frustrated noise. Gwen still looks stunned, although Merlin isn't exactly sure why. It could be the way Nimueh had vanished, it could be the thought of Merlin with a man, or it could be a combination of the two. "Gwen?"
"Is that something all you magic people can do? Simply...disappear?"
Merlin's mouth gapes for a moment before he shrugs. If he can't trust Gwen, he might as well give up now. "No idea. I can't do that, or at least not yet."
"Right." Gwen looks less stunned, which is a step in the right direction for her, at least. For Merlin, not so much. She nods decisively and turns to face him, hands on her hips. "Now all we need to do is find you a man, which shouldn't be that hard."
"..." says Merlin.
"You're sort of cute, in a skinny, country-girl way." Gwen scrutinises him, which surprisingly wasn't fun when he was male and is even less fun now that she looks like she's eyeing him for the cook pot. "Think you can use that magic of yours to do something about your clothes?"
Merlin nods dumbly and allows Gwen to pull him towards their baskets, where she yanks her cloak out and holds it towards him. "To cover you when we get back to the castle. You might be a girl, but you still look like Merlin, and the less attention we get on the way to Gaius the better."
He's never going to underestimate Gwen again, oh no.
--
To Merlin's relief, his magic is unaffected. He'd had horrors of it being lessened, or, worse, gone entirely, the feeling of it flooding his body as Nimueh disappeared a figment of his imagination. It wouldn't have been too much to expect for Nimueh to have stolen it along with his original gender, but no, it's still there, a sort of tingling at the edge of his mind as they walk back towards Camelot.
Merlin stretches his fingers experimentally, and looks sideways at Gwen. He doesn't want to scare her, but on the other hand... "Gwen, would you mind if I, uh..."
"Tried some magic?" Oh yeah, never underestimate this woman. "Go ahead. But, Merlin, be careful."
"Right, like I was planning on making it obvious that there's a sorcerer riding towards Camelot."
"Don't you mean sorceress?" There's nothing Merlin can say, or wants to say, to that, so instead he thinks of small things he can do to test his powers. A stain from Gwen's dress slowly vanishes, and a rip in his trousers, now spelled to be much more comfortable around his new hips, knits together after much concentration. Then a low hung branch lifts itself out of Gwen's way, and suddenly the various insects around them can't get close enough to bite.
"Must be useful, being able to do all that," is Gwen's only comment, but although she hides it well, she's impressed. Merlin smiles and calls a bunch of wildflowers from the forest for her, magically tying them (not without difficulty) onto the handle of her basket.
Getting back into Camelot is stupidly easy. Gwen, as Morgana's personal maid, is asked no questions, and the servant accompanying her on a gathering expedition for Gaius earns nothing more than a glance from the guards. It's one of those times, Merlin reflects, where honesty really is the best policy, because it's so ambiguous.
Then she starts talking about the linen cupboard, and dresses, and underclothes, and he wants one of the guards to recognise him so he can get put in the dungeons, away from this clothes fiend who has taken the place of Gwen.
-
His whole body aches, in every possible way. Gaius manages about a minute of sympathy before he's prodding and poking and generally making Merlin feel like one of the physician's experiments. He asks a lot of questions, most of which Merlin can't answer, and finally flings his hands in the air and demands to know what Merlin does know.
"It was Nimueh, it was a spell, it hurt." "That's it?"
"Yes that's it," Merlin shouts, "what else do you want?! I was on the floor and in pain, Gaius, sorry I didn't manage to catch the exact spell she used."
"Now that would have been useful." Gaius either ignores Merlin's near-scream of annoyance, or just doesn't notice; Merlin's betting on the latter, honestly. Gwen lays a calming hand on his shoulder and gently reminds him to breathe.
"Sorry, Gwen."
"How do you feel?" The only thing that keeps Merlin from shouting at her as well is the sincere note of sympathy in her voice. He sighs and crumples into a chair, resting his head on his arms and speaking to the rough wood of Gaius's work table.
"My body has been forced to change genders, Gwen, so I feel pretty ill." That's actually true; Merlin briefly thinks about asking Gaius for a potion to settle his stomach, but that would mean lifting his head so Gaius can hear him, and it's just too much effort. "I'm sore, and I keep thinking I'm going to fall over when I walk, and I think I'm more flexible than before, which is weird."
Gwen sits next to him and replaces her hand on his shoulder, rubbing gently. "You should've said something on the way back, I didn't know it was that bad."
"It wasn't, then. I think I was running on adrenaline."
"Come on then, get this down your neck." Merlin raises his head in time to see Gaius set a mug of something steaming in front of him. The smell of it makes Merlin want to retch, but he's learnt that, generally, the worse Gaius's concoctions smell, the better they work. He reaches out and grasps the mug firmly, determined not to repeat the incident with the water, and downs it in one.
He coughs and splutters but doesn't throw up, and, wonder of wonders, actually starts to feel a little better.
"Right, now that's out of the way, lets think about this." Merlin eyes Gaius balefully as he wipes streaming eyes. "Oh don't look at me like that, it was for your own good."
"It was foul!" Gwen laughs a little, before cutting herself off and looking at Merlin in dismay. "Oh, for goodness sakes Gwen, you can still laugh at me. I'm still Merlin, just, well...a little different."
"Just a little, yes." She laughs properly then, the sound bringing a smile to Merlin's lips. Even Gaius looks amused, before he leans forward and looks serious. Gwen swallows the rest of her laughter, and Merlin braces himself.
"Now then. What are you going to call yourself?"
Things just keep getting even more surreal after that.
--
Gwen pulls Merlin down to where the seamstresses work, intent on getting him some clothes that will fit properly and - this is the bit that scares him - make him look 'pretty'.
Merlin maybe wants to crawl into a hole and hide for the next hundred years.
When he voices this plan, Gwen just laughs and tells him it "won't be that bad, stop being such a coward." Merlin would tell her that he's plenty brave, thank you very much, but then she comes at him with a measuring string and he squeaks in the most cowardly way possible while edging away.
She ropes in two of the other maids to help her keep Merlin still, which is just as humiliating as it sounds, and finally gets enough measurements to let him sidle over to a chair out of the way of the working women and try to blend into the background. Gwen collects a series of dresses from somewhere and sets about checking them for signs of wear.
"Did you have to do that?"
She doesn't look up from her perusal of a deep blue dress that Merlin actually quite likes the look of, but he can tell she's rolling her eyes. "Don't be such a baby, it was your own fault."
"Why do people keep telling me that?!" Gwen looks up at him sharply.
"Are you-"
"I am not going to cry!" He fights down the prickly feeling at the back of his throat and scowls. Gwen nods slowly and leaves him to it, fingers deft on the fabric.
Slowly the room empties, all the other women leaving for meals or taking mended clothing back to their various master or mistresses. Merlin's own pointed comments about Morgana needing Gwen go unheeded, apart from a pert comment that Morgana is quite capable of fending for herself, and she'll call for Gwen when she's needed.
Merlin acquiesces without further struggle when Gwen holds up one of the dresses, because he's tired and still a bit unstable, and doesn't feel like making this any harder than it already is. Gwen pulls out a screen and hands him the dress, telling him to take as much time as he needs. Merlin stares at it for a goodly time before he drapes it over the top of the screen and sets to work getting his clothes off.
The shirt comes off first, and Merlin surprises himself with the extent of how well he's taking this whole episode. He looks down, takes in the swell of small but curvy breasts, and doesn't faint. He looks again, and still nothing. He lifts one hesitant hand and brushes his fingers over the outer edge, and...yeah, nothing.
Either he's handling this incredibly well, or the shock hasn't hit yet.
All it feels like is a breast. Sure, it's weird because it's his own breast, but honestly, the gryphon was weirder. Merlin shrugs, gets momentarily distracted by what this does to his new chest, and then sets to work on his trousers. The sight of smooth skin under coarse hair, where before there had been something most definitely different, makes him feel a little dizzy but it passes.
The shock should‘ve hit by now, thinks Merlin, and even I could tell Gaius just gave me something for my stomach.
He resigns himself to being pretty much unflappable, and yanks the dress on over his head, stepping put from behind the screen to hand himself over to a patient Gwen.
**
"Do you think that sorceress had anyone in mind for you? I mean, she mentioned it, but not who." Merlin, lost in a daydream of a world where he's happily engrossed in his book of magic and not being fitted for a dress or something equally feminine, answers without thinking.
"Nimueh? Probably Arthur." The sharp pain of a pin in his leg shatters the daydream. "Ow, Gwen, what the hell? Is dressmaking always this painful, or are you taking your anger out on me!?"
She stares up at him incredulously. "Arthur?"
"Wha- oh. Yeah. She has a-thing for trying to kill him by using other people." Gwen nods slowly and goes back to her pinning, although to Merlin's relief she appears to take more care than usual.
"So, what, she hopes you'll spontaneously use magic in the middle of sex and kill him?" That brings it home, really, what the reason for all this is, and Merlin tries desperately not to fall off the small platform Gwen has him standing on.
"Something like that."
Gwen merely says "hmm," whatever that means, and starts working on the hem of Merlin's new dress. Merlin looks down at her head and thanks whatever gods can hear him that he's got a friend like her; anyone else would be mocking him for that remark, whereas Gwen will save it for when he can handle it.
As he turns and feels his skirts brush against his legs, Merlin feels that this is definitely not that time.
-
He gets called into Uther's presence a day later, something he was expecting but still isn't ready for. The receiving chamber looks different somehow, and then Merlin realises that's because it's mostly empty. Most of the knights are still out on their hunting trip, which also explains why he hasn't received any summons from Arthur for the last week-or why Merlin hasn't, at least. The summons was for Mary, cousin of Merlin, and he's having a hard time remembering that.
Uther sits in his throne, the table in front of him covered with the scrolls and tally sheets necessary for the running of a good castle, and he isn't wearing his crown. He looks more like a simple nobleman than the King of Camelot, and, like always when he sees Uther like this, some of the nervousness drains out of Merlin. "You asked to see me, your majesty?"
Oh, gods, he even sounds like a girl. The acoustics in this place make it so much more obvious than in his own room, or in Gwen's, and the nervousness comes crashing back. He twists the material in his hastily-made skirt and waits for Uther to look up. When he does, it's with a softer expression than he's ever looked at Merlin, apart from that first time he'd saved Arthur's life. The nervousness lifts, and for pity's sake, can't his emotions make up their mind?
"Ah, yes. You are Mary, correct? Merlin's cousin?" Merlin nods jerkily. "I understand that he has had to leave us and return to his village. Not more problems with raiders, I hope?" The hint of humour must be accidental, thinks Merlin; there is no way Uther now finds that incident amusing.
"N-no, you majesty. Personal matters. His mother."
Uther nods understandingly. "Say no more." Fine by Merlin; anything more and he'd probably betray himself. "I have been told that you've taken over his work as Gaius's apprentice, which is to be expected, but I am curious to know if you have been informed as to the total extent of your cousin's duties?" Merlin makes to nod his head, than remembers that he wouldn't know, because Arthur has been gone this past week, and shakes it instead. "I thought as much. He also served as manservant to Prince Arthur, duties which you will be expected to take on as well."
"Yes, your majesty." Uther nods, makes a notation on a piece of parchment and gives it to a clerk. Merlin makes to follow him out and flee back to Gaius, but Uther's voice stops him dead.
"If I hear of any misconduct on your part, anything at all, you will be sent back in disgrace and neither you nor your cousin will work in this castle again, do you understand?"
Merlin's sure that every female servant gets this threat, and he's also sure that most of them ignore it. "Of course, my King."
With that he's free, and once out of the door he all but runs for it.
Gwen's waiting for him when he reaches Gaius's quarters, and beams brightly at his thumbs up. Then she looks worried again. Merlin raises his eyebrows questioningly. "Morgana knows. I didn't tell her, but she guessed, somehow."
The news isn't really a shock. Morgana has a way of getting information that may or may not be entirely allowed under the current rules, something Merlin keeps meaning to investigate. "Will she say anything, do you think?"
Gwen shakes her head emphatically. "She told me she wouldn't. It's just, she, well, wants to help."
"...in what way, exactly?" Gwen looks guilty.
"She wants to do the whole 'dressing you up' thing. I never let her help me with that sort of stuff, and I think she wants to show you how to be discreet about the whole maid thing." She says it all in a bit of a rush, and Merlin looks at her suspiciously.
"You told her that Nimueh probably wants me to sleep with Arthur, didn't you."
"Sort of." Merlin glares. "Okay, yes! She already knew about the girl thing, so I figured it wouldn't do any harm!"
"Gwen, she'll either kill me or try to help me, and I'm not sure which would be worse!" The door opens then, making Merlin spin round in sudden fear at how loud his voice has become, and hey, swirling skirts? Kinda nice. It's only Gaius, thankfully, but Merlin makes sure to keep his voice at a normal level when he rounds on Gwen again. "She can help, because she knows, but she can't help."
Gaius frowns at the two of them and clears his throat. "If I may interrupt?" Gwen sighs but nods at Merlin, before they turn to listen. "Gwen, might I suggest you make the most of this time without Arthur to teach Merlin how to be a proper maid, mm?" He makes a weird sort of movement with his eyebrows that Merlin doesn't understand, but apparently Gwen does because she agrees and starts pulling Merlin out of the room.
"Uh, Gwen, what...?"
"Gaius is right. You'll never pass as a girl without some help." Merlin recognises the route through the corridors that they're taking; it leads to Morgana's rooms, which is not where he wants to go at all. He tries to dig his heels in, but the shoes Gwen had found him have softer soles than his usual boots, and are also slightly too big on feet which seem to have shrunk a little, so he can't get any purchase to resist. "Stop it, this is for your own good!"
Merlin sighs dramatically and lets her drag him again. She's usually right about this sort of stuff, it can't hurt.
-
Merlin's wrong.
It can, and does, hurt.
Beside him, Gwen drops gracefully to her knees once more, demonstrating the correct way for a maid to get down in order to tend the fire and stack logs into their basket. She looks up and tugs impatiently on Merlin's skirt, gesturing downwards with her other hand. Merlin drops his shoulders, takes a relaxing breath and drops. Surprisingly, it doesn't hurt. Gwen looks at him proudly. "Well done; that was actually graceful."
"Makes a change." They straighten together-that, at least, Merlin had mastered after the tenth time he tried to drop without bruising himself any further-and Gwen nods her approval. "What's next?" Gwen gives him a funny look.
"You're really not scared, or worried, or anything, are you."
Merlin shrugs. "Nope."
"But why not?" Gwen tugs at a lock of hair curling out from where Merlin's shoved it behind his ear, letting the long strands slip through her fingers as she stares at him. Nimueh's spell had been thorough, but Merlin has still needed to use some of his own magic to make his hair longer otherwise he'd've just looked like Merlin in a dress.
"Because...I'm just not?" Merlin smiles as Gwen rolls her eyes. "I was born with magic, Gwen; I'm used to weird things happening around me."
"Shh!" She flaps her hands at him, looking hastily at the door. Predictably, there's no one there. "You might not want to say that so loudly." It occurs to Merlin that he hasn't thanked Gwen for still trusting him, or for swearing to never tell as they walked back to Camelot, so he rectifies that immediately. Gwen's expression goes soft.
"Never, okay? Not unless you tell me it's alright. Now" she continues briskly, a transparent attempt to break the atmosphere that's threatening to become unreservedly soppy that Merlin loves her for, "walking."
"Walking?"
"Walking," she repeats firmly, grinning at Merlin's confusion. "It's important that you draw as little attention to yourself when performing your duties-"
"Oh, I know that." He just doesn't try that hard. It's so much more fun to annoy Arthur.
"In skirts that swing, and get caught, and tangle around your legs?"
"..."
"Didn't think so. Come on, try and copy me."
Roughly a candlemark later, after Merlin has tripped over his new skirts enough times for any man to have to cope with, Gwen deems him "acceptable, with the potential to be a pretty okay girl." His relief is so obvious she starts giggling and can't stop for quite a while. She wipes away tears as Merlin folds his arms and glares, then takes up a pile of sewing, divides it into half and beckons for Merlin to join her at the table. "You girls have it pretty hard, don't you."
Gwen shrugs. "Sort of. We have to be more careful than you men, that's a given, but Uther doesn't tolerate crude behaviour towards the servants from his knights, which makes it better than some places I've worked." Merlin thinks about that for a while, letting the rhythm of his needle soothe his worries. When he's done with a plain shirt, Gwen takes it off him and inspects it. "This is actually good work. Fine enough for a lady's maid, in fact."
"Can't do everything with magic, you know. Besides, I had to learn how to sew just so I could do some of my chores in Arthur's room. It'd look suspicious if I went somewhere else to do it all."
"Aren't you worried he's going to guess?" Gwen's hands are still on her own ripped shirt, anxiety clear in her voice.
"No. He'll glare at me, ask about the village and then cover it up with a comment about how he hopes I won't be as incompetent as my cousin."
Gwen giggles, and together they set about the pile of mending in earnest. They work in a companionable silence for a while, but Merlin can tell Gwen is trying to figure out how to ask him something. Her brow is furrowed, she's biting her lip and she keeps periodically stopping to stare at her hands.
He sighs. "Gwen, what is it?" She looks up, startled, and smiles sheepishly.
"I was just, well, wondering..."
"Yes?"
"Why don't you...I mean, why haven't you..." She flinches as her preoccupation means the needle jabs into the soft pad of her thumb, blood welling in seconds. Merlin sighs again, tilts his head in a silent request for permission, then applies a little magic. "Thank you. Does Gaius - of course he does. Is he teaching you to do that sort of-"
"Gwen."
"Oh. Um." She shuts her eyes and says, in a rush: "Why haven't you just bedded one of the kitchen boys, or a stablehand, or an apprentice, or...someone like that?"
Merlin makes a strangled noise, staring at Gwen as if she's grown two heads and started breathing fire. "WHAT?!"
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, but you know, you're taking this so well, I thought you'd be alright with just, well, you know."
"Bedding a man when I'm a woman?" Gwen narrows her eyes and uh oh he's underestimated her again. "Say a word and I'll turn you into something unpleasant." She grins, and not in a way that gives Merlin any comfort.
"So, a man when you're a-" Merlin glares and tries to do that thing where his eyes turn gold, which Gaius informs him is very impressive, but he can never seem to do without being on the brink of performing some highly dangerous and highly illegal magic. From the way Gwen keeps on grinning it doesn't work this time either.
He settles for deflection instead, although that might be an equally bad move.
"When I'm ready, Gwen. I don't think Nimueh's going to send anything else our way while she thinks there's the possibility I'm going to do what she wants - which I'm not, by the way, - so it'll take as long as it takes."
"How accepting of you." Merlin shrugs. He hadn't been lying when he'd said he's used to weird things happening to him, and, although he'll never admit it, this isn't the first time he's been a girl.
There was a May Day dance lacking a maiden, and...well. Yeah. The villagers had assumed that he'd used a wig and some subtle padding to stop every young girl in Ealdor descending into a full-scale sulk, but for a few hours he'd been truly female. It's given him a headstart on coping this time around; exploring your body, even if it's not the one you were born with, is a lot easier when you live by a forest.
Lots of places to hide, you see.
"What about if the, the...spell" Gwen takes a look round after she whispers it, and Merlin pokes her arm. "Ow, hey! I'm just saying, what if the spell isn't just aimed at Arthur? What if..."
"It is. Don't ask how, but I know it's only for Arthur." He can feel the tug of warped power every time he and Arthur get a little too close, an insidious thread of magic alongside his own that wants to rip and tear and take and burn and destroy. Merlin has to take a deep breath, force it down. Merlin opens his eyes to see Gwen looking at him, concern filling her warm eyes.
She doesn't say anything, just rests her arm over his shoulders and waits. When he takes a shuddering breath all she does is squeeze his shoulder, then points out where he's going wrong with his sewing.
By the time Morgana returns from...wherever she's been all day, the atmosphere is restored, the mending is finished, and Gwen is trying to teach Merlin how to walk in a more feminine way. Morgana sweeps in just as Gwen tells Merlin "hips, Merlin, move your hips!", and immediately sets about helping.
If life could get any weirder, Merlin would never like to find out.
-
Sir Gareth is one of the few knights at Camelot that Merlin can stand being around, which makes it less uncomfortable being stuck in the armoury with him. The servants tasked with replacing the tapestries in Arthur's rooms had unceremoniously kicked Merlin out, or rather kicked Mary out, so they didn't have to work around him. Merlin could have offered to do it for them, and then done it in five seconds flat with magic, but instead he'd gathered up the heap of spare armour Arthur had demanded he clean 'just in case' and decamped to here.
Which is where Sir Gareth had found him. Her. Whatever Merlin classifies himself as these days. The point is, he'd sat down with his sword and whetstone, politely asking if Merlin minded the company. He's a third son, which would usually make Merlin avoid him like the plague, because third sons usually have the most to prove, but Gareth doesn't seem all that bad so far. He doesn't send Merlin on pointless tasks, for one thing, and he's polite when he genuinely needs something doing.
Merlin smiles a little and shakes his head, going back to his work. Sir Gareth works on the blade of his sword with sure, even strokes, and start asking Merlin about his village, and then what he thinks of Camelot, and around the time Merlin is laughing at a tale concerning Arthur, two chickens and a very confused Uther, Merlin realizes he's being gently courted. Merlin finds he doesn't mind all that much, and lets it carry on.
When he finishes with Arthur's armour, Gareth (he got told to drop the title half an hour into their conversation) offers to help him carry it back ready for the morning. Merlin isn't sure whether accepting is the proper thing to do, but he's tired and the armour is heavy, so sod it. Arthur isn't there when they enter, which is definitely a good thing because Merlin can't stop smiling.
He turns the smile on Gareth, to see what effect it has. He feels even bouncier when Gareth's own smile deepens, and takes Merlin's hand. "It was a pleasure to speak with you, miss."
He bows and kisses the back of Merlin's hand gently, and oh god Merlin needs to see Gwen now. He's getting way out of his depth here. Luckily that seems to be the end of it, as Gareth leaves without further ado. Inspection of his present emotional state convinces Merlin that no, he didn't mind the advances at all, and no, being a girl isn't all that bad.
Take that, Nimueh, he thinks, I‘ve found someone else!
--
The cramps hit around two weeks into Merlin's forced femininity, along with a Gwen who can't decide whether she wants to be sympathetic or vindictive. Sympathy only wins out after Merlin uses his magic to increase the potency of the elixir she tells him most women take 'at this time' by tenfold, and he's grateful for it. Women, he reasons, are what hold the castle together, and if they can work through this then so can he.
It doesn't stop him from moaning to Gwen about it, though, or making sure the honey supply in the kitchens will never run out.
He's bitchier than usual to Arthur when getting him up, and a little more abrupt when putting his armour on. A part of his mind tells him it's really not a good idea to let this show, but the other part, the part that remembers when it didn't have to go through this every month, tells it to shut up and yanks a strap roughly. Arthur, for his part, has obviously never been exposed to a woman who doesn't hide how irritated the tiniest things make her, all because of a biological impulse.
After his third awkward attempt at offering to finish the armour himself, Merlin smiles ruefully and fastens the sword belt around Arthur's waist with a practiced efficiency. 'Sorry; I'll be alright once I've been to see Gaius. Sire ."
Arthur nods and practically runs from the room, leaving Merlin shaking with badly suppressed laughter and an even greater respect for the females among the castle staff.
--
The cramps, and accompanying bleeding (oh, god, the bleeding) only last for a few days, but Merlin feels unbalanced for a whole week afterwards. He spends a lot of time with Gwen and the other maids watching them and learning how to not hit someone or burst into tears at the slightest provocation, something Merlin had thought was simply men being disparaging about their wives but which does occasionally happen.
He spends an equally large amount of time locked in his room trying not to set anything on fire.
He gets through it by constantly reminding himself that it's only temporary, and he should bear it without complaint because Gwen and Morgana have to deal with this year in, year out. Sir Gareth helps an inordinate amount by bringing him little treats, mostly sweetmeats begged from the kitchens, and sits with him as Merlin works on Arthur's armour.
It's on one such occasion that Gareth finally does what Merlin has resigned himself to wanting, and kisses him. Her. Whatever. Anyway, it's all ludicrously sweet and clichéd; Merlin brushes his grown-out bangs out of his eyes and ends up with a smudge of polish on his cheek, which leads to Gareth leaning in to wipe it away, and then...
Gareth's mouth is warm and soft against Merlin's own, his arm firm but gentle as he slides it around Merlin's waist. He doesn't press any further than a flick of his tongue against Merlin's lower lip to begin with, which is fine because it gives Merlin a chance to get used to the whole being kissed by a man-while-actually-a-woman thing. Perhaps unsurprisingly, he finds he doesn't care about it. Merlin moves his hands over Gareth's chest and up, curling them over broad shoulders and pulling the knight in a little closer.
Merlin can feel the pleased sound Gareth makes against his own chest, and it makes something bright and warm flare low in his stomach. It makes him bold, makes him open his mouth and initiate a tentative slid of tongue against tongue. It's toe-curlingly good, and then they get interrupted.
Someone, most likely a servant, rounds the corner into the armoury, drops a sword with a shocking clatter, stammers an apology and runs. Merlin reluctantly breaks away and smiles up at Gareth, conscious of his swollen lips and the way his hair seems to be messier than usual.
"I should probably, you know, get back to that. Um." Merlin gestures to the pile of armour he still has to clean and tries not to smile like an idiot. From the look on Gareth's face he's pretty sure he fails.
"Of course. Until later then, miss." Gareth gives him a final, soft kiss, then steps back as Merlin touches his fingers to reddened lips.
"Me- Mary. It's, ah, Mary."
Gareth's eyes crinkle with the size of his smile, and Merlin becomes aware that he's just gone another step down this road without meaning to, or even realising. "Until later, Mary." Gareth bows low as he speaks, which Merlin is very grateful for because he starts blushing, but manages to hide it by pretending to be focusing on his work as Gareth walks briskly out of the room.
Only when the sounds of his footsteps have faded does Merlin put aside the armour with shaking hands and run to find Gwen-although he has the presence of mind to move the abandoned sword onto a table first.
--
Gwen reacts in the way Merlin had expected her to, honestly. She grins, claps her hands and immediately calls Morgana to tell her everything.
Merlin will kill her one day, if he can get away with it.
"Wait a moment," says Morgana, "I thought you were supposed to seduce Arthur?" Merlin feels the exasperation rising.
"I'm not going to seduce Arthur! It'd be wrong, and weird, and I'm not going to play into her hands like that."
"But-"
"Morgana, no."
"Gwen said-"
"Would you want to seduce Arthur?" Merlin points out when Morgana goes to argue again, and feels victorious when she clamps her mouth shut and looks uncomfortable. "Didn't think so. Look, this is just another one of Nimueh's twisted plans, so for all I know she could've been lying about the whole, you know," he waves a hand awkwardly.
"Sex thing?" Gwen supplies, grinning.
"Yes, that, thank you."
"Just trying to help." They both nod earnestly at him, making Merlin feel as if he's being ganged up on. "Well," continues Gwen briskly, "even if you aren't going to get Arthur, we can make sure you get someone."
"Uh oh." Merlin has the feeling that although he's pretty comfortable being a girl, the things Gwen and Morgana are planning to do to him are going to bring the discomfort right back again. They circle him like a pair of predators, talking about fabrics and patterns and things they say he needs to learn, like how to flirt, because apparently even though Gareth seems 'interested', you can never be too careful.
It's all a bit much for Merlin, and he finds himself wishing he were outside and sparring with Arthur, getting bruised black and blue, trading insults and breathlessly sarcastic comments.
It'd be painful, but at least Arthur's never tried to put cosmetics on him.
Part Two
Which is probably why he ends up curled into a ball on the forest floor, body racked with pain and wishing he could get even the barest ounce of control back so he could blast the sorceress currently standing over him with a cruel smile on her lips. Nimueh is, if possible, even more set on killing him this time around, although it does cross Merlin's mind, in between all the whimpering and wishing he'd never agreed to work for Gaius, why she hasn't just finished him off.
Then she starts to talk, and of course she's going to explain while he can barely hear through the rushing in his ears.
He catches something about destiny, and manages a groan at hearing the damned word again. It's starting to lose all meaning, what with the amount of times the dragon booms it at him during their incredibly confusing chats. Then she says something about Arthur, which makes Merlin try even harder to break whatever spell she's cast this time, but it's still impossible.
He hears Gwen shouting his name, drawing Nimueh's attention long enough for her hold to weaken the barest amount. Gwen comes crashing through the trees, heedless of the danger, and drops to her knees by Merlin's side.
Merlin tries to croak out a warning, but he's too weak to make anything other than a sound which may or may not be Gwen's name, and gesture roughly in the direction of the sorceress. Worryingly, Nimueh isn't doing anything, is merely watching with the same cruel smile twisting her mouth.
"Wha-" Merlin coughs harshly and tries again, "what the hell?" Okay, so it's not elegant, or even particularly clear, but it'll do. Nimueh watches him silently for a moment. Just as he's about to think sod it and give into the darkness pressing against the edges of his eyes, she speaks.
"If you want to be yourself again, young warlock, it is simple. You will have to lie with a man." Merlin knows that word, he really does, but it makes no sense. Gwen makes a small, choked off sound behind him and Nimueh's smile gets wider. "And I think we both know who that will have to be, don't we."
She raises her arms and the wind starts to swirl around them, unnatural in its speed and intensity, the way it focuses on Nimueh and leaves Merlin and Gwen alone, for the most part. Nimueh's form begins to shift and waver; Merlin tries desperately to reach his magic, to stop her before she escapes again, but he can't.
"Do this for me and you might even live." Her words reach him through the windstorm, their tone mocking. "Of course, I can't say the same for him."
Her laughter echoes around the hollow as the wind suddenly drops, and with it goes the spell binding Merlin. Magic snaps back into his body, the rush helping clear his head. He pushes himself up onto his hands and takes a deep breath, fervently wishing he'd never set foot in the blasted forest. "Gwen? Are you alright?"
"Am I alright?" She sounds slightly hysterical, but her hands are steady as she helps Merlin sit up. "Merlin, are you-how did-why did-you're a GIRL!"
Merlin looks down and hey, what do you know, he is.
This could take some explaining.
--
Gwen makes him sit still with his head between his knees, which makes him feel utterly foolish but also helps get rid of the residual dizziness. His trousers are much too tight around his hips, but apart from that Merlin can't tell by simply looking that he's not what he's supposed to be.
Namely, male.
Every movement feels strange and like he doesn't have complete control of himself, which is fun in a sort of bizarre way, right up until it becomes frustrating and makes him fumble the waterskin that Gwen hands him. A few drops of the cold liquid fall onto the bare skin of his wrist where his sleeve has been pushed up, making him jump.
Even that feels like too much.
Merlin wipes the water droplets away angrily and makes a frustrated noise. Gwen still looks stunned, although Merlin isn't exactly sure why. It could be the way Nimueh had vanished, it could be the thought of Merlin with a man, or it could be a combination of the two. "Gwen?"
"Is that something all you magic people can do? Simply...disappear?"
Merlin's mouth gapes for a moment before he shrugs. If he can't trust Gwen, he might as well give up now. "No idea. I can't do that, or at least not yet."
"Right." Gwen looks less stunned, which is a step in the right direction for her, at least. For Merlin, not so much. She nods decisively and turns to face him, hands on her hips. "Now all we need to do is find you a man, which shouldn't be that hard."
"..." says Merlin.
"You're sort of cute, in a skinny, country-girl way." Gwen scrutinises him, which surprisingly wasn't fun when he was male and is even less fun now that she looks like she's eyeing him for the cook pot. "Think you can use that magic of yours to do something about your clothes?"
Merlin nods dumbly and allows Gwen to pull him towards their baskets, where she yanks her cloak out and holds it towards him. "To cover you when we get back to the castle. You might be a girl, but you still look like Merlin, and the less attention we get on the way to Gaius the better."
He's never going to underestimate Gwen again, oh no.
--
To Merlin's relief, his magic is unaffected. He'd had horrors of it being lessened, or, worse, gone entirely, the feeling of it flooding his body as Nimueh disappeared a figment of his imagination. It wouldn't have been too much to expect for Nimueh to have stolen it along with his original gender, but no, it's still there, a sort of tingling at the edge of his mind as they walk back towards Camelot.
Merlin stretches his fingers experimentally, and looks sideways at Gwen. He doesn't want to scare her, but on the other hand... "Gwen, would you mind if I, uh..."
"Tried some magic?" Oh yeah, never underestimate this woman. "Go ahead. But, Merlin, be careful."
"Right, like I was planning on making it obvious that there's a sorcerer riding towards Camelot."
"Don't you mean sorceress?" There's nothing Merlin can say, or wants to say, to that, so instead he thinks of small things he can do to test his powers. A stain from Gwen's dress slowly vanishes, and a rip in his trousers, now spelled to be much more comfortable around his new hips, knits together after much concentration. Then a low hung branch lifts itself out of Gwen's way, and suddenly the various insects around them can't get close enough to bite.
"Must be useful, being able to do all that," is Gwen's only comment, but although she hides it well, she's impressed. Merlin smiles and calls a bunch of wildflowers from the forest for her, magically tying them (not without difficulty) onto the handle of her basket.
Getting back into Camelot is stupidly easy. Gwen, as Morgana's personal maid, is asked no questions, and the servant accompanying her on a gathering expedition for Gaius earns nothing more than a glance from the guards. It's one of those times, Merlin reflects, where honesty really is the best policy, because it's so ambiguous.
Then she starts talking about the linen cupboard, and dresses, and underclothes, and he wants one of the guards to recognise him so he can get put in the dungeons, away from this clothes fiend who has taken the place of Gwen.
-
His whole body aches, in every possible way. Gaius manages about a minute of sympathy before he's prodding and poking and generally making Merlin feel like one of the physician's experiments. He asks a lot of questions, most of which Merlin can't answer, and finally flings his hands in the air and demands to know what Merlin does know.
"It was Nimueh, it was a spell, it hurt." "That's it?"
"Yes that's it," Merlin shouts, "what else do you want?! I was on the floor and in pain, Gaius, sorry I didn't manage to catch the exact spell she used."
"Now that would have been useful." Gaius either ignores Merlin's near-scream of annoyance, or just doesn't notice; Merlin's betting on the latter, honestly. Gwen lays a calming hand on his shoulder and gently reminds him to breathe.
"Sorry, Gwen."
"How do you feel?" The only thing that keeps Merlin from shouting at her as well is the sincere note of sympathy in her voice. He sighs and crumples into a chair, resting his head on his arms and speaking to the rough wood of Gaius's work table.
"My body has been forced to change genders, Gwen, so I feel pretty ill." That's actually true; Merlin briefly thinks about asking Gaius for a potion to settle his stomach, but that would mean lifting his head so Gaius can hear him, and it's just too much effort. "I'm sore, and I keep thinking I'm going to fall over when I walk, and I think I'm more flexible than before, which is weird."
Gwen sits next to him and replaces her hand on his shoulder, rubbing gently. "You should've said something on the way back, I didn't know it was that bad."
"It wasn't, then. I think I was running on adrenaline."
"Come on then, get this down your neck." Merlin raises his head in time to see Gaius set a mug of something steaming in front of him. The smell of it makes Merlin want to retch, but he's learnt that, generally, the worse Gaius's concoctions smell, the better they work. He reaches out and grasps the mug firmly, determined not to repeat the incident with the water, and downs it in one.
He coughs and splutters but doesn't throw up, and, wonder of wonders, actually starts to feel a little better.
"Right, now that's out of the way, lets think about this." Merlin eyes Gaius balefully as he wipes streaming eyes. "Oh don't look at me like that, it was for your own good."
"It was foul!" Gwen laughs a little, before cutting herself off and looking at Merlin in dismay. "Oh, for goodness sakes Gwen, you can still laugh at me. I'm still Merlin, just, well...a little different."
"Just a little, yes." She laughs properly then, the sound bringing a smile to Merlin's lips. Even Gaius looks amused, before he leans forward and looks serious. Gwen swallows the rest of her laughter, and Merlin braces himself.
"Now then. What are you going to call yourself?"
Things just keep getting even more surreal after that.
--
Gwen pulls Merlin down to where the seamstresses work, intent on getting him some clothes that will fit properly and - this is the bit that scares him - make him look 'pretty'.
Merlin maybe wants to crawl into a hole and hide for the next hundred years.
When he voices this plan, Gwen just laughs and tells him it "won't be that bad, stop being such a coward." Merlin would tell her that he's plenty brave, thank you very much, but then she comes at him with a measuring string and he squeaks in the most cowardly way possible while edging away.
She ropes in two of the other maids to help her keep Merlin still, which is just as humiliating as it sounds, and finally gets enough measurements to let him sidle over to a chair out of the way of the working women and try to blend into the background. Gwen collects a series of dresses from somewhere and sets about checking them for signs of wear.
"Did you have to do that?"
She doesn't look up from her perusal of a deep blue dress that Merlin actually quite likes the look of, but he can tell she's rolling her eyes. "Don't be such a baby, it was your own fault."
"Why do people keep telling me that?!" Gwen looks up at him sharply.
"Are you-"
"I am not going to cry!" He fights down the prickly feeling at the back of his throat and scowls. Gwen nods slowly and leaves him to it, fingers deft on the fabric.
Slowly the room empties, all the other women leaving for meals or taking mended clothing back to their various master or mistresses. Merlin's own pointed comments about Morgana needing Gwen go unheeded, apart from a pert comment that Morgana is quite capable of fending for herself, and she'll call for Gwen when she's needed.
Merlin acquiesces without further struggle when Gwen holds up one of the dresses, because he's tired and still a bit unstable, and doesn't feel like making this any harder than it already is. Gwen pulls out a screen and hands him the dress, telling him to take as much time as he needs. Merlin stares at it for a goodly time before he drapes it over the top of the screen and sets to work getting his clothes off.
The shirt comes off first, and Merlin surprises himself with the extent of how well he's taking this whole episode. He looks down, takes in the swell of small but curvy breasts, and doesn't faint. He looks again, and still nothing. He lifts one hesitant hand and brushes his fingers over the outer edge, and...yeah, nothing.
Either he's handling this incredibly well, or the shock hasn't hit yet.
All it feels like is a breast. Sure, it's weird because it's his own breast, but honestly, the gryphon was weirder. Merlin shrugs, gets momentarily distracted by what this does to his new chest, and then sets to work on his trousers. The sight of smooth skin under coarse hair, where before there had been something most definitely different, makes him feel a little dizzy but it passes.
The shock should‘ve hit by now, thinks Merlin, and even I could tell Gaius just gave me something for my stomach.
He resigns himself to being pretty much unflappable, and yanks the dress on over his head, stepping put from behind the screen to hand himself over to a patient Gwen.
**
"Do you think that sorceress had anyone in mind for you? I mean, she mentioned it, but not who." Merlin, lost in a daydream of a world where he's happily engrossed in his book of magic and not being fitted for a dress or something equally feminine, answers without thinking.
"Nimueh? Probably Arthur." The sharp pain of a pin in his leg shatters the daydream. "Ow, Gwen, what the hell? Is dressmaking always this painful, or are you taking your anger out on me!?"
She stares up at him incredulously. "Arthur?"
"Wha- oh. Yeah. She has a-thing for trying to kill him by using other people." Gwen nods slowly and goes back to her pinning, although to Merlin's relief she appears to take more care than usual.
"So, what, she hopes you'll spontaneously use magic in the middle of sex and kill him?" That brings it home, really, what the reason for all this is, and Merlin tries desperately not to fall off the small platform Gwen has him standing on.
"Something like that."
Gwen merely says "hmm," whatever that means, and starts working on the hem of Merlin's new dress. Merlin looks down at her head and thanks whatever gods can hear him that he's got a friend like her; anyone else would be mocking him for that remark, whereas Gwen will save it for when he can handle it.
As he turns and feels his skirts brush against his legs, Merlin feels that this is definitely not that time.
-
He gets called into Uther's presence a day later, something he was expecting but still isn't ready for. The receiving chamber looks different somehow, and then Merlin realises that's because it's mostly empty. Most of the knights are still out on their hunting trip, which also explains why he hasn't received any summons from Arthur for the last week-or why Merlin hasn't, at least. The summons was for Mary, cousin of Merlin, and he's having a hard time remembering that.
Uther sits in his throne, the table in front of him covered with the scrolls and tally sheets necessary for the running of a good castle, and he isn't wearing his crown. He looks more like a simple nobleman than the King of Camelot, and, like always when he sees Uther like this, some of the nervousness drains out of Merlin. "You asked to see me, your majesty?"
Oh, gods, he even sounds like a girl. The acoustics in this place make it so much more obvious than in his own room, or in Gwen's, and the nervousness comes crashing back. He twists the material in his hastily-made skirt and waits for Uther to look up. When he does, it's with a softer expression than he's ever looked at Merlin, apart from that first time he'd saved Arthur's life. The nervousness lifts, and for pity's sake, can't his emotions make up their mind?
"Ah, yes. You are Mary, correct? Merlin's cousin?" Merlin nods jerkily. "I understand that he has had to leave us and return to his village. Not more problems with raiders, I hope?" The hint of humour must be accidental, thinks Merlin; there is no way Uther now finds that incident amusing.
"N-no, you majesty. Personal matters. His mother."
Uther nods understandingly. "Say no more." Fine by Merlin; anything more and he'd probably betray himself. "I have been told that you've taken over his work as Gaius's apprentice, which is to be expected, but I am curious to know if you have been informed as to the total extent of your cousin's duties?" Merlin makes to nod his head, than remembers that he wouldn't know, because Arthur has been gone this past week, and shakes it instead. "I thought as much. He also served as manservant to Prince Arthur, duties which you will be expected to take on as well."
"Yes, your majesty." Uther nods, makes a notation on a piece of parchment and gives it to a clerk. Merlin makes to follow him out and flee back to Gaius, but Uther's voice stops him dead.
"If I hear of any misconduct on your part, anything at all, you will be sent back in disgrace and neither you nor your cousin will work in this castle again, do you understand?"
Merlin's sure that every female servant gets this threat, and he's also sure that most of them ignore it. "Of course, my King."
With that he's free, and once out of the door he all but runs for it.
Gwen's waiting for him when he reaches Gaius's quarters, and beams brightly at his thumbs up. Then she looks worried again. Merlin raises his eyebrows questioningly. "Morgana knows. I didn't tell her, but she guessed, somehow."
The news isn't really a shock. Morgana has a way of getting information that may or may not be entirely allowed under the current rules, something Merlin keeps meaning to investigate. "Will she say anything, do you think?"
Gwen shakes her head emphatically. "She told me she wouldn't. It's just, she, well, wants to help."
"...in what way, exactly?" Gwen looks guilty.
"She wants to do the whole 'dressing you up' thing. I never let her help me with that sort of stuff, and I think she wants to show you how to be discreet about the whole maid thing." She says it all in a bit of a rush, and Merlin looks at her suspiciously.
"You told her that Nimueh probably wants me to sleep with Arthur, didn't you."
"Sort of." Merlin glares. "Okay, yes! She already knew about the girl thing, so I figured it wouldn't do any harm!"
"Gwen, she'll either kill me or try to help me, and I'm not sure which would be worse!" The door opens then, making Merlin spin round in sudden fear at how loud his voice has become, and hey, swirling skirts? Kinda nice. It's only Gaius, thankfully, but Merlin makes sure to keep his voice at a normal level when he rounds on Gwen again. "She can help, because she knows, but she can't help."
Gaius frowns at the two of them and clears his throat. "If I may interrupt?" Gwen sighs but nods at Merlin, before they turn to listen. "Gwen, might I suggest you make the most of this time without Arthur to teach Merlin how to be a proper maid, mm?" He makes a weird sort of movement with his eyebrows that Merlin doesn't understand, but apparently Gwen does because she agrees and starts pulling Merlin out of the room.
"Uh, Gwen, what...?"
"Gaius is right. You'll never pass as a girl without some help." Merlin recognises the route through the corridors that they're taking; it leads to Morgana's rooms, which is not where he wants to go at all. He tries to dig his heels in, but the shoes Gwen had found him have softer soles than his usual boots, and are also slightly too big on feet which seem to have shrunk a little, so he can't get any purchase to resist. "Stop it, this is for your own good!"
Merlin sighs dramatically and lets her drag him again. She's usually right about this sort of stuff, it can't hurt.
-
Merlin's wrong.
It can, and does, hurt.
Beside him, Gwen drops gracefully to her knees once more, demonstrating the correct way for a maid to get down in order to tend the fire and stack logs into their basket. She looks up and tugs impatiently on Merlin's skirt, gesturing downwards with her other hand. Merlin drops his shoulders, takes a relaxing breath and drops. Surprisingly, it doesn't hurt. Gwen looks at him proudly. "Well done; that was actually graceful."
"Makes a change." They straighten together-that, at least, Merlin had mastered after the tenth time he tried to drop without bruising himself any further-and Gwen nods her approval. "What's next?" Gwen gives him a funny look.
"You're really not scared, or worried, or anything, are you."
Merlin shrugs. "Nope."
"But why not?" Gwen tugs at a lock of hair curling out from where Merlin's shoved it behind his ear, letting the long strands slip through her fingers as she stares at him. Nimueh's spell had been thorough, but Merlin has still needed to use some of his own magic to make his hair longer otherwise he'd've just looked like Merlin in a dress.
"Because...I'm just not?" Merlin smiles as Gwen rolls her eyes. "I was born with magic, Gwen; I'm used to weird things happening around me."
"Shh!" She flaps her hands at him, looking hastily at the door. Predictably, there's no one there. "You might not want to say that so loudly." It occurs to Merlin that he hasn't thanked Gwen for still trusting him, or for swearing to never tell as they walked back to Camelot, so he rectifies that immediately. Gwen's expression goes soft.
"Never, okay? Not unless you tell me it's alright. Now" she continues briskly, a transparent attempt to break the atmosphere that's threatening to become unreservedly soppy that Merlin loves her for, "walking."
"Walking?"
"Walking," she repeats firmly, grinning at Merlin's confusion. "It's important that you draw as little attention to yourself when performing your duties-"
"Oh, I know that." He just doesn't try that hard. It's so much more fun to annoy Arthur.
"In skirts that swing, and get caught, and tangle around your legs?"
"..."
"Didn't think so. Come on, try and copy me."
Roughly a candlemark later, after Merlin has tripped over his new skirts enough times for any man to have to cope with, Gwen deems him "acceptable, with the potential to be a pretty okay girl." His relief is so obvious she starts giggling and can't stop for quite a while. She wipes away tears as Merlin folds his arms and glares, then takes up a pile of sewing, divides it into half and beckons for Merlin to join her at the table. "You girls have it pretty hard, don't you."
Gwen shrugs. "Sort of. We have to be more careful than you men, that's a given, but Uther doesn't tolerate crude behaviour towards the servants from his knights, which makes it better than some places I've worked." Merlin thinks about that for a while, letting the rhythm of his needle soothe his worries. When he's done with a plain shirt, Gwen takes it off him and inspects it. "This is actually good work. Fine enough for a lady's maid, in fact."
"Can't do everything with magic, you know. Besides, I had to learn how to sew just so I could do some of my chores in Arthur's room. It'd look suspicious if I went somewhere else to do it all."
"Aren't you worried he's going to guess?" Gwen's hands are still on her own ripped shirt, anxiety clear in her voice.
"No. He'll glare at me, ask about the village and then cover it up with a comment about how he hopes I won't be as incompetent as my cousin."
Gwen giggles, and together they set about the pile of mending in earnest. They work in a companionable silence for a while, but Merlin can tell Gwen is trying to figure out how to ask him something. Her brow is furrowed, she's biting her lip and she keeps periodically stopping to stare at her hands.
He sighs. "Gwen, what is it?" She looks up, startled, and smiles sheepishly.
"I was just, well, wondering..."
"Yes?"
"Why don't you...I mean, why haven't you..." She flinches as her preoccupation means the needle jabs into the soft pad of her thumb, blood welling in seconds. Merlin sighs again, tilts his head in a silent request for permission, then applies a little magic. "Thank you. Does Gaius - of course he does. Is he teaching you to do that sort of-"
"Gwen."
"Oh. Um." She shuts her eyes and says, in a rush: "Why haven't you just bedded one of the kitchen boys, or a stablehand, or an apprentice, or...someone like that?"
Merlin makes a strangled noise, staring at Gwen as if she's grown two heads and started breathing fire. "WHAT?!"
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, but you know, you're taking this so well, I thought you'd be alright with just, well, you know."
"Bedding a man when I'm a woman?" Gwen narrows her eyes and uh oh he's underestimated her again. "Say a word and I'll turn you into something unpleasant." She grins, and not in a way that gives Merlin any comfort.
"So, a man when you're a-" Merlin glares and tries to do that thing where his eyes turn gold, which Gaius informs him is very impressive, but he can never seem to do without being on the brink of performing some highly dangerous and highly illegal magic. From the way Gwen keeps on grinning it doesn't work this time either.
He settles for deflection instead, although that might be an equally bad move.
"When I'm ready, Gwen. I don't think Nimueh's going to send anything else our way while she thinks there's the possibility I'm going to do what she wants - which I'm not, by the way, - so it'll take as long as it takes."
"How accepting of you." Merlin shrugs. He hadn't been lying when he'd said he's used to weird things happening to him, and, although he'll never admit it, this isn't the first time he's been a girl.
There was a May Day dance lacking a maiden, and...well. Yeah. The villagers had assumed that he'd used a wig and some subtle padding to stop every young girl in Ealdor descending into a full-scale sulk, but for a few hours he'd been truly female. It's given him a headstart on coping this time around; exploring your body, even if it's not the one you were born with, is a lot easier when you live by a forest.
Lots of places to hide, you see.
"What about if the, the...spell" Gwen takes a look round after she whispers it, and Merlin pokes her arm. "Ow, hey! I'm just saying, what if the spell isn't just aimed at Arthur? What if..."
"It is. Don't ask how, but I know it's only for Arthur." He can feel the tug of warped power every time he and Arthur get a little too close, an insidious thread of magic alongside his own that wants to rip and tear and take and burn and destroy. Merlin has to take a deep breath, force it down. Merlin opens his eyes to see Gwen looking at him, concern filling her warm eyes.
She doesn't say anything, just rests her arm over his shoulders and waits. When he takes a shuddering breath all she does is squeeze his shoulder, then points out where he's going wrong with his sewing.
By the time Morgana returns from...wherever she's been all day, the atmosphere is restored, the mending is finished, and Gwen is trying to teach Merlin how to walk in a more feminine way. Morgana sweeps in just as Gwen tells Merlin "hips, Merlin, move your hips!", and immediately sets about helping.
If life could get any weirder, Merlin would never like to find out.
-
Sir Gareth is one of the few knights at Camelot that Merlin can stand being around, which makes it less uncomfortable being stuck in the armoury with him. The servants tasked with replacing the tapestries in Arthur's rooms had unceremoniously kicked Merlin out, or rather kicked Mary out, so they didn't have to work around him. Merlin could have offered to do it for them, and then done it in five seconds flat with magic, but instead he'd gathered up the heap of spare armour Arthur had demanded he clean 'just in case' and decamped to here.
Which is where Sir Gareth had found him. Her. Whatever Merlin classifies himself as these days. The point is, he'd sat down with his sword and whetstone, politely asking if Merlin minded the company. He's a third son, which would usually make Merlin avoid him like the plague, because third sons usually have the most to prove, but Gareth doesn't seem all that bad so far. He doesn't send Merlin on pointless tasks, for one thing, and he's polite when he genuinely needs something doing.
Merlin smiles a little and shakes his head, going back to his work. Sir Gareth works on the blade of his sword with sure, even strokes, and start asking Merlin about his village, and then what he thinks of Camelot, and around the time Merlin is laughing at a tale concerning Arthur, two chickens and a very confused Uther, Merlin realizes he's being gently courted. Merlin finds he doesn't mind all that much, and lets it carry on.
When he finishes with Arthur's armour, Gareth (he got told to drop the title half an hour into their conversation) offers to help him carry it back ready for the morning. Merlin isn't sure whether accepting is the proper thing to do, but he's tired and the armour is heavy, so sod it. Arthur isn't there when they enter, which is definitely a good thing because Merlin can't stop smiling.
He turns the smile on Gareth, to see what effect it has. He feels even bouncier when Gareth's own smile deepens, and takes Merlin's hand. "It was a pleasure to speak with you, miss."
He bows and kisses the back of Merlin's hand gently, and oh god Merlin needs to see Gwen now. He's getting way out of his depth here. Luckily that seems to be the end of it, as Gareth leaves without further ado. Inspection of his present emotional state convinces Merlin that no, he didn't mind the advances at all, and no, being a girl isn't all that bad.
Take that, Nimueh, he thinks, I‘ve found someone else!
--
The cramps hit around two weeks into Merlin's forced femininity, along with a Gwen who can't decide whether she wants to be sympathetic or vindictive. Sympathy only wins out after Merlin uses his magic to increase the potency of the elixir she tells him most women take 'at this time' by tenfold, and he's grateful for it. Women, he reasons, are what hold the castle together, and if they can work through this then so can he.
It doesn't stop him from moaning to Gwen about it, though, or making sure the honey supply in the kitchens will never run out.
He's bitchier than usual to Arthur when getting him up, and a little more abrupt when putting his armour on. A part of his mind tells him it's really not a good idea to let this show, but the other part, the part that remembers when it didn't have to go through this every month, tells it to shut up and yanks a strap roughly. Arthur, for his part, has obviously never been exposed to a woman who doesn't hide how irritated the tiniest things make her, all because of a biological impulse.
After his third awkward attempt at offering to finish the armour himself, Merlin smiles ruefully and fastens the sword belt around Arthur's waist with a practiced efficiency. 'Sorry; I'll be alright once I've been to see Gaius. Sire ."
Arthur nods and practically runs from the room, leaving Merlin shaking with badly suppressed laughter and an even greater respect for the females among the castle staff.
--
The cramps, and accompanying bleeding (oh, god, the bleeding) only last for a few days, but Merlin feels unbalanced for a whole week afterwards. He spends a lot of time with Gwen and the other maids watching them and learning how to not hit someone or burst into tears at the slightest provocation, something Merlin had thought was simply men being disparaging about their wives but which does occasionally happen.
He spends an equally large amount of time locked in his room trying not to set anything on fire.
He gets through it by constantly reminding himself that it's only temporary, and he should bear it without complaint because Gwen and Morgana have to deal with this year in, year out. Sir Gareth helps an inordinate amount by bringing him little treats, mostly sweetmeats begged from the kitchens, and sits with him as Merlin works on Arthur's armour.
It's on one such occasion that Gareth finally does what Merlin has resigned himself to wanting, and kisses him. Her. Whatever. Anyway, it's all ludicrously sweet and clichéd; Merlin brushes his grown-out bangs out of his eyes and ends up with a smudge of polish on his cheek, which leads to Gareth leaning in to wipe it away, and then...
Gareth's mouth is warm and soft against Merlin's own, his arm firm but gentle as he slides it around Merlin's waist. He doesn't press any further than a flick of his tongue against Merlin's lower lip to begin with, which is fine because it gives Merlin a chance to get used to the whole being kissed by a man-while-actually-a-woman thing. Perhaps unsurprisingly, he finds he doesn't care about it. Merlin moves his hands over Gareth's chest and up, curling them over broad shoulders and pulling the knight in a little closer.
Merlin can feel the pleased sound Gareth makes against his own chest, and it makes something bright and warm flare low in his stomach. It makes him bold, makes him open his mouth and initiate a tentative slid of tongue against tongue. It's toe-curlingly good, and then they get interrupted.
Someone, most likely a servant, rounds the corner into the armoury, drops a sword with a shocking clatter, stammers an apology and runs. Merlin reluctantly breaks away and smiles up at Gareth, conscious of his swollen lips and the way his hair seems to be messier than usual.
"I should probably, you know, get back to that. Um." Merlin gestures to the pile of armour he still has to clean and tries not to smile like an idiot. From the look on Gareth's face he's pretty sure he fails.
"Of course. Until later then, miss." Gareth gives him a final, soft kiss, then steps back as Merlin touches his fingers to reddened lips.
"Me- Mary. It's, ah, Mary."
Gareth's eyes crinkle with the size of his smile, and Merlin becomes aware that he's just gone another step down this road without meaning to, or even realising. "Until later, Mary." Gareth bows low as he speaks, which Merlin is very grateful for because he starts blushing, but manages to hide it by pretending to be focusing on his work as Gareth walks briskly out of the room.
Only when the sounds of his footsteps have faded does Merlin put aside the armour with shaking hands and run to find Gwen-although he has the presence of mind to move the abandoned sword onto a table first.
--
Gwen reacts in the way Merlin had expected her to, honestly. She grins, claps her hands and immediately calls Morgana to tell her everything.
Merlin will kill her one day, if he can get away with it.
"Wait a moment," says Morgana, "I thought you were supposed to seduce Arthur?" Merlin feels the exasperation rising.
"I'm not going to seduce Arthur! It'd be wrong, and weird, and I'm not going to play into her hands like that."
"But-"
"Morgana, no."
"Gwen said-"
"Would you want to seduce Arthur?" Merlin points out when Morgana goes to argue again, and feels victorious when she clamps her mouth shut and looks uncomfortable. "Didn't think so. Look, this is just another one of Nimueh's twisted plans, so for all I know she could've been lying about the whole, you know," he waves a hand awkwardly.
"Sex thing?" Gwen supplies, grinning.
"Yes, that, thank you."
"Just trying to help." They both nod earnestly at him, making Merlin feel as if he's being ganged up on. "Well," continues Gwen briskly, "even if you aren't going to get Arthur, we can make sure you get someone."
"Uh oh." Merlin has the feeling that although he's pretty comfortable being a girl, the things Gwen and Morgana are planning to do to him are going to bring the discomfort right back again. They circle him like a pair of predators, talking about fabrics and patterns and things they say he needs to learn, like how to flirt, because apparently even though Gareth seems 'interested', you can never be too careful.
It's all a bit much for Merlin, and he finds himself wishing he were outside and sparring with Arthur, getting bruised black and blue, trading insults and breathlessly sarcastic comments.
It'd be painful, but at least Arthur's never tried to put cosmetics on him.
Part Two