merlin: the runes on your skin
Title: the runes on your skin
Disclaimer: Merlin is owned by the BBC and other associated parties. I do not make any profit from this story and the plot is purely fiction.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: confusion
Pairings/Characters: Merlin/Arthur hints of Nimueh/Ygraine and Arthur/Morgana
Word Count: 2393
Summary: Merlin is, for once, not sure why something is happening.
Merlin woke up on the ground; face down, sweating and, as usual, stark naked. His first through upon opening his eyes was to close them again immediately because the space under his bed was a terrifying infestation of mold and maybe something dead. Second thought pretty much followed along those same lines: what kind of animal could it be, could Merlin maybe identify it based on memory so he wouldn’t exactly have to check to see if there was something dead, would Gaius be interested in the mold- that sort of thing.
He slammed his head twice on his bedside table when he tried to stand up with his eyes closed, and it wasn’t until he threw open his wardrobe to look for a pair of trousers did he look down at his naked body and be very surprised by what he found. The erection wasn’t really unusual, and the paleness of his skin practically illuminated by the sunlight streaming into his bedroom was an everyday occurrence, but the very think black lines of a tattoo just below his navel was very strange indeed, and if Merlin had been any other person he might have panicked, but he’d lived with magic his whole life and this was hardly the strangest thing that he had woken up to short of turning Will purple for an hour when they were eight.
So clearly the first sounds out of his mouth were, “Huh.”
Curious and frowning thoughtfully, Merlin ran the tip on his finger across the tattoo, feeling the raised edges of black on his skin. He turned his head to an uncomfortable angle to try and get a better look at it and his mouth twisted in thought; because he almost recognized the symbol. It was upside down after all, but the little swoops at the corners and the circle in the middle seemed so familiar it was almost annoying not knowing where he recognized it from.
His musings were short lived because just he when thought he remembered where he’d seen the symbol Gaius opened the door. After an awkward shuffle to cover up exposed genitalia and making a point to not make eye contact, Merlin promptly forgot about the mysteriously appeared tattoo on his stomach and collected his clothes from the floor to get ready for the day.
And it turned out to be a spectacularly shitty day. First and foremost, Arthur seemed to have gone missing, or maybe Merlin was just looking in the right places at the completely wrong times, either way, Merlin couldn’t for the life of him find Arthur. Furthermore, it felt like people were avoiding him, although he still might have been avoiding eye contact with people since Gaius’ unannounced entrance that morning so he couldn’t be sure.
And finally after long last, as Merlin was walking (not skipping or hopping or doing any sort of bouncing in his listless quest for Arthur and chores) down a staircase at the northwest side of the castle he tripped and fell headfirst over Arthur sitting on the stairs. Luckily he was only three stairs away from the floor, so the fall didn’t hurt too badly.
Merlin managed to twist the upper part of his body around so that he could see Arthur, who, without any noticeable injuries or even any mild annoyance to the fact that his servant had tripped over him, was staring at Merlin with an expectant and borderline amused expression on his face.
“Mer-lin,” said Arthur slowly, drawing out the syllables of his name, as was usual.
“Sire,” said Merlin, both excitedly and complete relieved. Then he frowned. “What are you doing on the floor?”
“Same thing as you,” said Arthur with a shrug. “I tripped and never bothered to get back up.”
“That’s - really?” asked Merlin, frowning deeply. “That is not the answer I was expecting.”
“Merlin, what is on your face?” asked Arthur, his eyebrow raising. “I wasn’t going to say anything in case you did it on purpose, but it looks absolutely ridiculous.”
“What does?” asked Merlin, sitting up on the floor and reached for his face, feeling around for any sort of dirt or worse. Arthur’s mouth twisted.
“You’ve got little black symbols all over your skin,” he said, pointing to Merlin’s face, right where his hand was groping around. At the words ‘black symbols’ Merlin froze and very slowly pulled his hand away from his face, turning it over in front of his eyes so he could see that there was indeed the same little symbol repeated over and over across the back of his hand. Arthur continued to question him. “Is it some sort of fashion statement? A cry for help maybe? Like when Gwaine did that thing to his hair?”
“I have to go,” gasped Merlin, scrambling to his feet, tugging on his clothes to cover up as much as possible. He imagined the little marks on his body blossoming over his skin like ink blots on a page and the very idea was terrifying. Arthur stood with him, more smoothly with his cloak draping his frame and grabbed him by the shoulder before he managed to even step away.
“Merlin,” started Arthur, frowning at his friend. “What’s happened? Is this a curse?”
“I don’t know,” huffed Merlin. His heart was racing and his palms were beginning to sweat uncomfortably. “I need to know what the symbol means and-”
“We’ll check with Geoffrey,” interrupted Arthur, clapping Merlin on the shoulder and heading down the hallway. Merlin stared after him, his mouth still open in mid sentence before snapping shut and tripping after him.
“We?”
Arthur snorted. “Of course, idiot. You didn’t think I was going to let get yourself in more trouble did you?”
Merlin didn’t say anything, just followed behind Arthur in silence until they reached the library. Geoffrey took one look at Merlin, raised an eyebrow and pointed to the back of there room and told them to find a roll of parchment with a black wax seal.
“There has to be a hundred here,” muttered Merlin, glaring at the very precisely stacked rolls of parchment. Arthur was staring at the side of Merlin’s face and quickly looked away when Merlin finally noticed. “What?”
“Nothing, just…they’re moving and it’s weird.” Merlin’s hand shot to his face, as if touching the tattoo’s would make it stop. Arthur grabbed his hand and pried it away. “Don’t do that. For all you know it might make it worse.”
“Right,” muttered Merlin, letting the heat from Arthur’s hand calm him for the barest of moments. The irony of Arthur being so level headed about something clearly magical while Merlin was panicking was not lost on him either. Merlin let his vision slip out of focus, his finger groping upwards until they hooked around Arthur’s. There was a strange, dislocated feeling forming behind Merlin’s eyes, suspending the moment until Merlin felt lightheaded from contact with Arthur-
“Merlin!”
Merlin blinked and the moment was broken. Arthur was staring at him, frowning hard, the hand not in Merlin’s was gripping his shoulder tightly, fingers digging into flesh.
“What?” breathed Merlin. Arthur pulled away, his hand slipping out of Merlin’s and falling to his side, the other hand pointing to a script over Merlin’s shoulder.
“You were in a trance,” said Arthur. “I’ve practically been shouting your name for the past minute.”
“Sorry.”
Arthur ignored his apology, but continued pointing over Merlin’s shoulder. When Merlin made no move to even look in that direction, Arthur sighed, rolled his eyes and reached over his shoulder to pull the roll of parchment off the shelf.
“Saw this while you were out of it,” said Arthur offhandedly, breaking the black seal and unrolling it. “It has the same symbol in the wax as the one covering your face.”
“Why didn’t you just open it then?” asked Merlin, eyeing the script warily.
“Because I don’t want to end up with marks on my face, thanks,” Arthur snorted, his eyes scanning the parchment. “It’s directions.”
“To?”
“An old castle on the shore,” muttered Arthur, knitting his brows together. “Abandoned, completely in ruins, but not far,” he was silent for a beat and then straightened and nodded firmly. “I say we go.”
“What?!” Merlin didn’t squawk, he was better than that and he was far too old for his voice to break. “Why…why?”
“Because we’re friends,” said Arthur with a shrug. “And you need help. After all the years we’ve known each other I’ve never had the opportunity to blindly help you with the force and loyalty you’ve had for me and this is my chance. So, Merlin, get the horses ready.”
“Right,” said Merlin breathlessly, blinking quickly because it was dusty and there weren’t tears in his eyes. He turned to leave the library when Arthur’s hand on his arm stopped him. There was a shuffle of fabric and Arthur handed Merlin his cloak, smirking.
“Make sure no one see’s your face. It’s starting to concern me.” Merlin fastened the cloak around his neck and raised the hood, hesitating briefly to frown.
“Why? What’s it’s doing?”
“It’s glowing.”
.
“This is…” Merlin trailed off staring at the crumbled walls and towers of what had once probably been a magnificent castle, overrun with vines and low hanging trees after years of misuse and abandon. Something kindred stirred in Merlin’s chest. “Beautiful.”
“I used to come here when I was younger. Morgana and I would sneak out of the castle and go on adventures here while my father was too busy in his grief and his war to notice.” Merlin stayed silent, unsure what to say after Arthur’s confession and the overwhelming pressure of such a great structure growing closer. They lead their horses through a labyrinth of foliage and stone, Arthur leading with the map opened in his lap.
“I feel like I’ve been here before,” Merlin heard himself saying, staring up at the patches of sky visible through the canopy of green. Arthur glanced over his shoulder at him.
“Really? People generally avoid coming- Merlin.”
“Yeah?”
“Behind you,” said Arthur, staring at a point above Merlin’s head. He twisted his body around and felt his mouth drop open, because carved deeply into the stone structure was the same symbol repeated across Merlin’s skin.
“Arthur…” started Merlin, still gaping at the wall. “What is this place?”
“Before the Great Purge it was part of Camelot,” explained Arthur. “My father’s friend Nimueh resided here with my mother before she and my father married.”
Merlin swung himself down from his horse and slowly made his way to the stone, reaching up as far as he could, his fingers grazing the edge of the carving. The tattoo’s on his skin flared brightly, gold and shimmering.
“Arthur there’s so much magic here,” breathed Merlin. “It’s lingering in the stones and soaked into the soil. It’s in the air and the water and infecting my soul even as we stand here.”
“You’re not making any sense, Merlin,” said Arthur, closer than Merlin had expected. He broke his connection with the carving and spun around, his ankles becoming tangled in the weeds. Arthur was much closer then he expected, so close he didn’t know how he hadn’t felt the heat off of Arthur’s body from behind him.
“I know where I’ve seen this symbol before,” said Merlin, trying not to breath too quickly. “You have things of your mother’s, it’s carved into her jewelry, into your ring.” Arthur looked down and lifted his hand, rotating his wrist to examine the ring on his thumb. There it was, thinly drawn and almost invisible.
“What does it mean?” asked Arthur, still staring down. Merlin shook his head.
“I don’t know. But if it’s something Nimueh and your mother both used-”
Merlin stopped, because just then there was that feeling of disconnect, the same one he had felt it the library. It slammed into him like a punch in the stomach and set him off balance. Arthur looked up at him and before Merlin’s eyes his posture changed, his shoulder’s relaxed, his eyelids dropped and his arms fell limply to his side.
“My mother and Nimueh,” he stated numbly, swallowing thickly. He swayed forward, face too close to Merlin’s and hesitated. “I’ve just realized what you meant, when you said magic was infecting your soul. I’ve felt something like this before when I came here with Morgana. But…we were young and…complicated. And now…”
“It’s still complicated,” murmured Merlin, reaching out to touch Arthur’s skin, his fingertips ghosting across his clavicle. “Arthur-”
“Shut up, Merlin,” breathed Arthur, crushing his mouth over Merlin’s.
The kiss was practiced and consuming and Merlin was overwhelmed by Arthur pressing into him; his tongue, his body, his scent. He felt drunk with magic and Arthur’s body against his own. His fingers darted across a muscled chest and gripped at Arthur’s back while he was pushed back into the stone.
Merlin opened his eyes, blinking wide eyes up at the sky, the sun somewhere behind him casting an orange glow to the clouds and trees above him. The side of his face was pressed against something soft and warm. Merlin moved his eyes to find Arthur lying opposite him, his eyes closed. They were lying in what used to be the courtyard of Nimueh’s castle, the foliage on the ground tucked into them like a blanket.
Merlin looked away from Arthur, staring for a few long moments at the sky, watching it become darker with each passing minute. He raised his hand above him, the sleeve of his tunic falling down his arm. The symbols were gone, the drugged feeling was gone, he felt completely fine. Arthur grunted in his sleep and Merlin turned his head to look at him, his arm fell to his chest and a satisfied smile pulled at his lips.
He was better than fine.
Outtakes:
“Because there’s something wrong with you’re magic and since you have no idea how to fix it we have to quest to find out.”
Merlin gaped and started sputtering. “Ma-ma-magic-”
“You’re a terrible liar and I’m not an idiot,” snapped Arthur, his lips pursed together, making him appear annoyed. But Merlin could see the corners of his mouth twitching. “I’ve been waiting for three years for you to just confess and tell me you have magic.”
“…Oh.”
Disclaimer: Merlin is owned by the BBC and other associated parties. I do not make any profit from this story and the plot is purely fiction.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: confusion
Pairings/Characters: Merlin/Arthur hints of Nimueh/Ygraine and Arthur/Morgana
Word Count: 2393
Summary: Merlin is, for once, not sure why something is happening.
Merlin woke up on the ground; face down, sweating and, as usual, stark naked. His first through upon opening his eyes was to close them again immediately because the space under his bed was a terrifying infestation of mold and maybe something dead. Second thought pretty much followed along those same lines: what kind of animal could it be, could Merlin maybe identify it based on memory so he wouldn’t exactly have to check to see if there was something dead, would Gaius be interested in the mold- that sort of thing.
He slammed his head twice on his bedside table when he tried to stand up with his eyes closed, and it wasn’t until he threw open his wardrobe to look for a pair of trousers did he look down at his naked body and be very surprised by what he found. The erection wasn’t really unusual, and the paleness of his skin practically illuminated by the sunlight streaming into his bedroom was an everyday occurrence, but the very think black lines of a tattoo just below his navel was very strange indeed, and if Merlin had been any other person he might have panicked, but he’d lived with magic his whole life and this was hardly the strangest thing that he had woken up to short of turning Will purple for an hour when they were eight.
So clearly the first sounds out of his mouth were, “Huh.”
Curious and frowning thoughtfully, Merlin ran the tip on his finger across the tattoo, feeling the raised edges of black on his skin. He turned his head to an uncomfortable angle to try and get a better look at it and his mouth twisted in thought; because he almost recognized the symbol. It was upside down after all, but the little swoops at the corners and the circle in the middle seemed so familiar it was almost annoying not knowing where he recognized it from.
His musings were short lived because just he when thought he remembered where he’d seen the symbol Gaius opened the door. After an awkward shuffle to cover up exposed genitalia and making a point to not make eye contact, Merlin promptly forgot about the mysteriously appeared tattoo on his stomach and collected his clothes from the floor to get ready for the day.
And it turned out to be a spectacularly shitty day. First and foremost, Arthur seemed to have gone missing, or maybe Merlin was just looking in the right places at the completely wrong times, either way, Merlin couldn’t for the life of him find Arthur. Furthermore, it felt like people were avoiding him, although he still might have been avoiding eye contact with people since Gaius’ unannounced entrance that morning so he couldn’t be sure.
And finally after long last, as Merlin was walking (not skipping or hopping or doing any sort of bouncing in his listless quest for Arthur and chores) down a staircase at the northwest side of the castle he tripped and fell headfirst over Arthur sitting on the stairs. Luckily he was only three stairs away from the floor, so the fall didn’t hurt too badly.
Merlin managed to twist the upper part of his body around so that he could see Arthur, who, without any noticeable injuries or even any mild annoyance to the fact that his servant had tripped over him, was staring at Merlin with an expectant and borderline amused expression on his face.
“Mer-lin,” said Arthur slowly, drawing out the syllables of his name, as was usual.
“Sire,” said Merlin, both excitedly and complete relieved. Then he frowned. “What are you doing on the floor?”
“Same thing as you,” said Arthur with a shrug. “I tripped and never bothered to get back up.”
“That’s - really?” asked Merlin, frowning deeply. “That is not the answer I was expecting.”
“Merlin, what is on your face?” asked Arthur, his eyebrow raising. “I wasn’t going to say anything in case you did it on purpose, but it looks absolutely ridiculous.”
“What does?” asked Merlin, sitting up on the floor and reached for his face, feeling around for any sort of dirt or worse. Arthur’s mouth twisted.
“You’ve got little black symbols all over your skin,” he said, pointing to Merlin’s face, right where his hand was groping around. At the words ‘black symbols’ Merlin froze and very slowly pulled his hand away from his face, turning it over in front of his eyes so he could see that there was indeed the same little symbol repeated over and over across the back of his hand. Arthur continued to question him. “Is it some sort of fashion statement? A cry for help maybe? Like when Gwaine did that thing to his hair?”
“I have to go,” gasped Merlin, scrambling to his feet, tugging on his clothes to cover up as much as possible. He imagined the little marks on his body blossoming over his skin like ink blots on a page and the very idea was terrifying. Arthur stood with him, more smoothly with his cloak draping his frame and grabbed him by the shoulder before he managed to even step away.
“Merlin,” started Arthur, frowning at his friend. “What’s happened? Is this a curse?”
“I don’t know,” huffed Merlin. His heart was racing and his palms were beginning to sweat uncomfortably. “I need to know what the symbol means and-”
“We’ll check with Geoffrey,” interrupted Arthur, clapping Merlin on the shoulder and heading down the hallway. Merlin stared after him, his mouth still open in mid sentence before snapping shut and tripping after him.
“We?”
Arthur snorted. “Of course, idiot. You didn’t think I was going to let get yourself in more trouble did you?”
Merlin didn’t say anything, just followed behind Arthur in silence until they reached the library. Geoffrey took one look at Merlin, raised an eyebrow and pointed to the back of there room and told them to find a roll of parchment with a black wax seal.
“There has to be a hundred here,” muttered Merlin, glaring at the very precisely stacked rolls of parchment. Arthur was staring at the side of Merlin’s face and quickly looked away when Merlin finally noticed. “What?”
“Nothing, just…they’re moving and it’s weird.” Merlin’s hand shot to his face, as if touching the tattoo’s would make it stop. Arthur grabbed his hand and pried it away. “Don’t do that. For all you know it might make it worse.”
“Right,” muttered Merlin, letting the heat from Arthur’s hand calm him for the barest of moments. The irony of Arthur being so level headed about something clearly magical while Merlin was panicking was not lost on him either. Merlin let his vision slip out of focus, his finger groping upwards until they hooked around Arthur’s. There was a strange, dislocated feeling forming behind Merlin’s eyes, suspending the moment until Merlin felt lightheaded from contact with Arthur-
“Merlin!”
Merlin blinked and the moment was broken. Arthur was staring at him, frowning hard, the hand not in Merlin’s was gripping his shoulder tightly, fingers digging into flesh.
“What?” breathed Merlin. Arthur pulled away, his hand slipping out of Merlin’s and falling to his side, the other hand pointing to a script over Merlin’s shoulder.
“You were in a trance,” said Arthur. “I’ve practically been shouting your name for the past minute.”
“Sorry.”
Arthur ignored his apology, but continued pointing over Merlin’s shoulder. When Merlin made no move to even look in that direction, Arthur sighed, rolled his eyes and reached over his shoulder to pull the roll of parchment off the shelf.
“Saw this while you were out of it,” said Arthur offhandedly, breaking the black seal and unrolling it. “It has the same symbol in the wax as the one covering your face.”
“Why didn’t you just open it then?” asked Merlin, eyeing the script warily.
“Because I don’t want to end up with marks on my face, thanks,” Arthur snorted, his eyes scanning the parchment. “It’s directions.”
“To?”
“An old castle on the shore,” muttered Arthur, knitting his brows together. “Abandoned, completely in ruins, but not far,” he was silent for a beat and then straightened and nodded firmly. “I say we go.”
“What?!” Merlin didn’t squawk, he was better than that and he was far too old for his voice to break. “Why…why?”
“Because we’re friends,” said Arthur with a shrug. “And you need help. After all the years we’ve known each other I’ve never had the opportunity to blindly help you with the force and loyalty you’ve had for me and this is my chance. So, Merlin, get the horses ready.”
“Right,” said Merlin breathlessly, blinking quickly because it was dusty and there weren’t tears in his eyes. He turned to leave the library when Arthur’s hand on his arm stopped him. There was a shuffle of fabric and Arthur handed Merlin his cloak, smirking.
“Make sure no one see’s your face. It’s starting to concern me.” Merlin fastened the cloak around his neck and raised the hood, hesitating briefly to frown.
“Why? What’s it’s doing?”
“It’s glowing.”
.
“This is…” Merlin trailed off staring at the crumbled walls and towers of what had once probably been a magnificent castle, overrun with vines and low hanging trees after years of misuse and abandon. Something kindred stirred in Merlin’s chest. “Beautiful.”
“I used to come here when I was younger. Morgana and I would sneak out of the castle and go on adventures here while my father was too busy in his grief and his war to notice.” Merlin stayed silent, unsure what to say after Arthur’s confession and the overwhelming pressure of such a great structure growing closer. They lead their horses through a labyrinth of foliage and stone, Arthur leading with the map opened in his lap.
“I feel like I’ve been here before,” Merlin heard himself saying, staring up at the patches of sky visible through the canopy of green. Arthur glanced over his shoulder at him.
“Really? People generally avoid coming- Merlin.”
“Yeah?”
“Behind you,” said Arthur, staring at a point above Merlin’s head. He twisted his body around and felt his mouth drop open, because carved deeply into the stone structure was the same symbol repeated across Merlin’s skin.
“Arthur…” started Merlin, still gaping at the wall. “What is this place?”
“Before the Great Purge it was part of Camelot,” explained Arthur. “My father’s friend Nimueh resided here with my mother before she and my father married.”
Merlin swung himself down from his horse and slowly made his way to the stone, reaching up as far as he could, his fingers grazing the edge of the carving. The tattoo’s on his skin flared brightly, gold and shimmering.
“Arthur there’s so much magic here,” breathed Merlin. “It’s lingering in the stones and soaked into the soil. It’s in the air and the water and infecting my soul even as we stand here.”
“You’re not making any sense, Merlin,” said Arthur, closer than Merlin had expected. He broke his connection with the carving and spun around, his ankles becoming tangled in the weeds. Arthur was much closer then he expected, so close he didn’t know how he hadn’t felt the heat off of Arthur’s body from behind him.
“I know where I’ve seen this symbol before,” said Merlin, trying not to breath too quickly. “You have things of your mother’s, it’s carved into her jewelry, into your ring.” Arthur looked down and lifted his hand, rotating his wrist to examine the ring on his thumb. There it was, thinly drawn and almost invisible.
“What does it mean?” asked Arthur, still staring down. Merlin shook his head.
“I don’t know. But if it’s something Nimueh and your mother both used-”
Merlin stopped, because just then there was that feeling of disconnect, the same one he had felt it the library. It slammed into him like a punch in the stomach and set him off balance. Arthur looked up at him and before Merlin’s eyes his posture changed, his shoulder’s relaxed, his eyelids dropped and his arms fell limply to his side.
“My mother and Nimueh,” he stated numbly, swallowing thickly. He swayed forward, face too close to Merlin’s and hesitated. “I’ve just realized what you meant, when you said magic was infecting your soul. I’ve felt something like this before when I came here with Morgana. But…we were young and…complicated. And now…”
“It’s still complicated,” murmured Merlin, reaching out to touch Arthur’s skin, his fingertips ghosting across his clavicle. “Arthur-”
“Shut up, Merlin,” breathed Arthur, crushing his mouth over Merlin’s.
The kiss was practiced and consuming and Merlin was overwhelmed by Arthur pressing into him; his tongue, his body, his scent. He felt drunk with magic and Arthur’s body against his own. His fingers darted across a muscled chest and gripped at Arthur’s back while he was pushed back into the stone.
Merlin opened his eyes, blinking wide eyes up at the sky, the sun somewhere behind him casting an orange glow to the clouds and trees above him. The side of his face was pressed against something soft and warm. Merlin moved his eyes to find Arthur lying opposite him, his eyes closed. They were lying in what used to be the courtyard of Nimueh’s castle, the foliage on the ground tucked into them like a blanket.
Merlin looked away from Arthur, staring for a few long moments at the sky, watching it become darker with each passing minute. He raised his hand above him, the sleeve of his tunic falling down his arm. The symbols were gone, the drugged feeling was gone, he felt completely fine. Arthur grunted in his sleep and Merlin turned his head to look at him, his arm fell to his chest and a satisfied smile pulled at his lips.
He was better than fine.
Outtakes:
“Because there’s something wrong with you’re magic and since you have no idea how to fix it we have to quest to find out.”
Merlin gaped and started sputtering. “Ma-ma-magic-”
“You’re a terrible liar and I’m not an idiot,” snapped Arthur, his lips pursed together, making him appear annoyed. But Merlin could see the corners of his mouth twitching. “I’ve been waiting for three years for you to just confess and tell me you have magic.”
“…Oh.”