Merlinfic: Born of Magic 5/12
Title: Born of Magic
Author: Destiny_Chicken
Characters: Arthur, Merlin, Uther, Gaius, OC Lord Aden, OC Lady Alys
Genre/pairing: Slash, Merlin/Arthur
Rating: MA Mature Adult due to language, and explicit sexual content
Word-count: 33,833 total
Chapters: 5 of 12
Spoilers: Mention of 1.1 (The Dragon’s Call), 2.8 (The Sins of the Father) and 2.13 (The Last Dragonlord)
Summary: Arthur suffers yet another blow to the head, but this one causes amnesia. He and Merlin are quarantined to Arthur’s chambers in an attempt to avoid revealing the amnesia to Uther. Once Arthur is cured by Merlin’s magic, strange incidents begin to occur.
Arthur’s face went blank when Merlin told him his father was about to visit him. Merlin was speaking rapidly, trying to cram 30 minutes of advice into about 30 seconds. “You are always very formal with him. You call him Father sometimes, but more often ‘M’Lord’ or ‘Sire.’ Whatever you do, don’t bring up the subject of magic or sorcerers or, the Gods forbid, Morgana. Now get back into bed.”
“Who’s Morgana?” he asked as he sat on the bed.
Merlin hissed, “Above all, don’t say things like that, like you don’t remember! Morgana is your father’s ward and you were raised together as brother and sister. She has been missing over ten months now, and Uther is still demanding search parties and patrols to hunt for any trace of her.” Merlin brought a clean white linen shirt to Arthur and helped him slide into it.
‘A sister, I have a sort-of-sister. Why is nothing coming to me? I should be able to remember a near-sibling I was raised with. And still no memories of my father, no memories of my mother.’
Arthur frowned, suddenly realizing that no one had spoken of his mother. “Merlin, what about my mother? Where is she? No one has mentioned her.”
Merlin exhaled with a whoosh and gathered another breath. “Your mother, Ygraine, is another topic Uther never discusses. I think you told me you had only spoken with your father twice about your mother in your whole life before Morgause told…never mind, no time for that now.” Merlin put his hand on Arthur’s shoulder, and added, “I’m sorry, Arthur, but your mother died giving birth to you.”
Arthur’s eyes got very large. He felt like he had been kicked in the gut. ‘No mother…because she died to give me life. And a father who was exacting and difficult. This can’t really be my life, can it?'
He was interrupted from further musings by a shock of cold-water droplets thrown in his face. “What was that for?” he sputtered at Merlin.
“You’ve got to look like you have a fever, so it is supposed to look like sweat. Hopefully from a distance, it will.”
Before Arthur could complain further, there was a knock at the main door and Gaius calling out before he opened the door, “Prince Arthur, it is the King.”
Merlin quickly whispered, “I’ll stand in the anteroom doorway where Uther can’t see me and try to prompt you if he asks anything and you aren’t sure what to reply.”
Gaius, held the door open for Uther and a guard who placed a chair at the doorway, and Uther settled into the seat as if it were a throne. “Arthur, how are you feeling?”
“Doing better, M’Lord.”
Gaius chimed in, “He is still feverish, and the headaches have not yet abated, Your Highness.” From Gaius’ perspective, Arthur did look feverish and sweating at this distance from the bed. He also had a furrowed brow indicative of his headache, which Gaius knew was all too real.
Uther continued, “I hope you’ll be able to return to some of your duties soon, even if you aren’t released from the quarantine yet. Sir Leon has arranged the patrols in your absence. The council is meeting again tomorrow morning, so I’ll have some reports brought here that you can study and advise me your opinions.”
“Very good, Sire.”
“And keep in mind Arthur, Sir Aden and his daughter Lady Alys are visiting next week. Aden’s properties are well positioned as a buffer between Camelot and Toris. They would make a nice complement to the kingdom as part of Lady Alys’ dowry.”
Arthur’s mouth dropped open as he realized Uther was discussing his marriage to some noblewoman he didn’t know. “Father, I don’t-“
He was cut off by Gaius’ statement, “I’m not sure if the quarantine will be lifted by next week, Sire. While the Prince has improved, his recovery has been slower than I expected.”
Arthur looked at Merlin for some sort of guidance, and he could see his manservant was miming something, wearing a decidedly frowning face, his hands waving about frantically as he shook his head negatively. Arthur had no clue what all those motions meant.
“Arthur, you will make every effort to be well enough to visit with Lady Alys.” It wasn’t a question, but a command from the King.
“Of course, Sire.”
Uther stood as he asked, “Now, is there anything else you require, Arthur? Have Gaius and your boy-what is his name, Melvin?-taken care of your needs?"
“Yes, Merlin and Gaius have been most helpful, Father. But there is one thing, could Sir Leon come visit at the doorway to give me a report on the most recent patrols and on the men in training?”
“Of course, as long as Gaius concurs?” Uther seemed pleased that Arthur was asking to resume some of his role as Camelot’s First Knight, even if it was from his bed.
Gaius nodded his head, “Certainly, Sire, I’ll speak to Sir Leon myself and explain the conditions of the visit.”
With a small wave, Uther left the room. The chair was removed by the guard and the door closed as Gaius spoke loudly, “I’ll stop by later.”
Arthur collapsed flat on his back, and released the breath he was holding. The tension eased out of his muscles as well.
Merlin came forward and commented, “Well, that went better than I expected. Why did you ask for Sir Leon?”
“It just seemed like something Arthur would do.” His eyes slid evasively from Merlin’s face to a most interesting spot on the fireplace mantel.
“Well, it is, but you are Arthur,” Merlin snorted.
“I know, it just seems like I’m not the same person as the Arthur-with-a-lifetime-of-memories. It feels like I’m starting over.” He sighed heavily.
Arthur lowered his head and closed his eyes. Merlin could see Arthur was struggling to keep his composure. “You’ll get your memories back. I know it, Arthur.”
Arthur quickly glanced at Merlin’s face, and then changed the subject before the conversation got any deeper into feelings. He’d had enough of those for today.
“What was all that motioning you were doing?” he questioned.
“That was me telling you to say nothing about the prospective brides. Uther knows you hate the idea of a political marriage, so this is really an attempt to goad you into another argument. He does that a lot. Ah…sort of, maybe, or maybe not. Perhaps he really wants you to consider this match?“ Merlin realized he had just criticized the King and back-pedaled furiously. Luckily Arthur had not comprehended much beyond the bridal candidates and political marriage.
“Did you say prospective brides? As in more than one?”
“Oh yes, some have visited in the past and I believe the King has lined up three more in the coming months.”
“Sounds like I am being bartered off for the best offer from all the kingdoms. Shouldn’t I be falling in love and then marrying?”
“For most people, yes. But you are the Crown Prince of Camelot and to your father, that means it is your duty to marry in Camelot’s best interests, not your own.”
“I don’t like the idea.” Arthur’s full lower lip stuck out just a bit further than normal. Merlin shook himself mentally when he recognized he’d been staring at Arthur’s lips for too long.
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Within fifteen minutes, a voice announced through the main door, “Sir Leon to see the Prince.” Merlin glanced at Arthur to be sure he still looked feverish, and said “Come in.” The door opened and the ginger-headed knight bowed slightly and addressed Arthur, “Your Highness. I hope you are feeling better and are well on the road to recovery.”
“Thank you, Sir Leon. Anything new to report from the patrols?” Arthur asked, faking a small cough as he spoke. Merlin glared at him--coughing was not a symptom of marsh fever.
Leon, standing at attention at the doorway, responded, “No, m’Lord. The northern patrol found no sign of Lady Morgana. The patrol that headed east found evidence of a Druid encampment, but it was at least three weeks old. They continue searching, of course.”
“Of course. And how goes the training?”
Leon’ face cracked into a broad smile. “You’ll be pleased, Sire, to know that Sir Reis’ son, Taddeus, has finally managed to hang onto his mace. Risk of injuries to the others has been drastically reduced; however I cannot say the same for Tad. He whacked himself with the mace twice, so I dismissed him to see the Court Physician for treatment.”
Arthur chuckled but added with a note of concern, “He wasn’t hurt seriously, was he?” The mace was a very dangerous weapon, even for the one who wielded it, particularly if he was still in training, like Tad.
“His pride suffered the most grievous of his injuries, I believe, Sire.
Arthur smiled. “Very well. I believe it will be another day or two before I can return to oversee the training, so carry on, Leon.”
“Of course, Sire. Is there anything else I can do for you?
With a sideways glance at his manservant who was tidying up the breakfast dishes, and using a casual tone, Arthur said, “Oh yes, Sir Leon, would you have one of the squires deliver my jousting armour on its form and my sword here to my chambers. Both are in need of polishing, and Merlin here has too much time on his hands.”
Merlin sputtered, “What?”
Sir Leon grinned. “I’ll see to it at once, Sire.”
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Arthur’s armour and one of his swords were delivered before mid-morning. Merlin maneuvered the standing form that held Arthur’s jousting armour into the chamber and took a concentrated look at the plates. “Honestly, Arthur, this does not need polishing.”
“Not yet it doesn’t,” Arthur replied with a smirk, as he picked up the sword and made his usual wrist-twirling motion with it.
Without any further warning, Arthur unleashed the sword against the armour, whacking the gardbrace severely enough to dent it, toppling the form over to the floor. Merlin darted to stand in front of Arthur, shouting “What are you doing? Are you crazy?”
“Merlin, set it upright again, and hold it there.”
“You are afflicted! Why are you doing this?”
“To get some exercise. I can’t very well have a straw dummy for practicing delivered up here without causing questions. This way it is just more polishing work for Merlin.”
“And dent fixing. I’m very fond of your armour--I spend a lot of time polishing it--and I don’t like you bashing it up,” protested Merlin as he put the form upright again.
“Hold it still now, Merlin.”
“No, you’ll bash me instead of the armour.”
“Just sit down on the floor and hold the base.”
Merlin flopped to the floor and hung on to the base of the armour form as Arthur let loose with additional blows to the breastplate and bevor in quick succession. The armour failed before Arthur became weary, but he set the sword aside.
“This should make you happy-I’m sweating now, and looking properly feverish.”
Merlin glared at him from his position huddled on the floor around the base of the armour stand. “Look at all the extra work you have made for me,” he complained. Then his eyes narrowed and he studied Arthur more closely. “Are you remembering more? It seems like you are acting more like a prat than you were before and your skill with the sword seems as good as ever.”
The Prince pursed his lips. “No, not really. The sword work-it’s just like it is natural to me. Like my body knows what to do, even though my mind doesn’t remember.” Arthur was glad some part of him was remembering. He just went with his gut reaction when he decided to order the armour and the sword brought to his chambers, knowing he needed to practice with them. Going with his instincts seemed to be right in this case.
‘But what about where Merlin is concerned? Those gut instincts tell me I am strongly attracted to him, but he doesn’t share the feelings. Even though I am his master, I cannot order him to share my bed, that would be an abuse of power…not likely he’d follow my orders anyways,’ Arthur mused. ‘He never does.’
“Arthur, are you there? Clotpole, answer me!” Merlin shook Arthur’s shoulders and stood face-to-face with him.
“What?” Arthur said, Merlin’s words finally breaking into his reverie.
“I’ve asked you twice now if you want to wash up again. Where did you go? You certainly weren’t here.”
“Nowhere. ‘S nothing.” He shook his head as if to clear it, and then immediately regretted the motion. His head was pounding just as loudly as before. He pressed the heels of his hands to his temples to try to stop his head from exploding. “Merlin, why don’t these headaches go away?”
“I don’t know, but I will talk to Gaius. Meanwhile how about another dose of the pain-reliever?” Merlin fetched the bottle from the sideboard and offered a spoonful of the green liquid. Arthur took it.
There was a knock on the door, and Merlin responded, “Yes?”
“Council reports for the Prince from the King,” the voice behind the door intoned.
Merlin grinned. “Well those should put you to sleep if the pain medicine doesn’t. Grain reports and taxation listings, no doubt, as they are your father’s favorite two subjects.”
Arthur just moaned and sank back on the bed, throwing an arm over his eyes to block out the sunlight.
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“It isn’t working, Gaius.” Merlin spoke softly through the crack in the door. “Arthur’s not getting any better. He’s not remembering anything more, other than what appears to be muscle memory, and the headaches continue to plague him. He even still has the limp from twisting his knee in the fall. That, at least, should have shown improvement by now.”
“I agree. This is very unusual.”
“It is almost like he is stuck at the same place in his recovery. Still not remembering much, still having the headaches. Neither improving nor declining.”
“I think it is time we consider other treatments.”
“What other treatments, Gaius? I thought you said there wasn’t anything else we could do but wait?”
“I can’t do much of anything, but you, Merlin, may be able to heal Arthur.” Gaius looked around furtively making sure Arthur and no one else could hear their discussion. “With your magic,” he whispered. “I think you need to consult your magic book. Have you found a good hiding place yet?”
“The best I could find is under my mattress, it is plump enough to disguise the book. And Arthur never goes in the anteroom.”
Gaius frowned, but said, “Well I suppose it will have to do. Be careful with the book though. I’ll bring it up with an extra blanket before dinner.”
Once Arthur fell asleep that night, still tossing about from the potion-induced fever, Merlin retired to the anteroom and lit his candle with wordless magic. He pulled the latch-bound leather book out from under his mattress and began scanning through the various sections.
Amulets and Charms
Simple Spells for Everyday Tasks
Potions and Poultices
Glamours
Fascinations and Enchantment
Magical Creatures
Spells to Invoke Lust and Love
Scrying
Transfiguration
Time Manipulation
Finally, in the ‘Fascinations and Enchantments’ section, he found a charm for forgetting things, so if he could just figure out how to reverse it, it might work. But the idea of doing magic on Arthur, more specifically on Arthur’s mind, made him very nervous. The magic book was very clear that this spell was dangerous, for it could mean permanent damage to recipient’s mind, if not done correctly. This was one spell he could not afford to mess up on the first attempt.
His eyelids began to droop from weariness as he puzzled out how to reverse the purpose of the charm. He shook himself, splashed his face with cool water and even paced around the chamber to stay awake. In the wee hours of the night, he thought he had it worked out. He practiced the spell for another two hours, then he shoved his book under the mattress and he returned to Arthur’s chamber. It was time to try.
The prince was sprawled across his bed, stomach down, as he usually slept. He’d thrown most of the coverings off in his fevered condition. Merlin gazed at his tousled blond hair, broad shoulders and back that narrowed to his hips. He could envision himself kissing his way down Arthur’s spine to the dimples at its base, which were just exposed above the awry waistband of his sleeping trousers. Merlin mentally shook himself. ‘None of this now, I’m here to heal him, not dream about making love to him.’
He leaned over Arthur, placing one hand on his forehead and the other along his cheek. Merlin closed his eyes, summoning his magic from within himself, and from the air around him, even from the earth beneath the castle. His fingers positively thrummed with the collected power. As he felt the magic coalesce, he spoke the words he’d been practicing, “Þhurh minum gewealde ond þinum mægen, Ic þe gebéad gemyndigian, [1]” and he released his magic into Arthur’s mind. He could see and feel the golden tendrils of his magic swirl ‘round Arthur’s head and sink beneath the scalp. His head began to glow more golden than ever. Merlin could sense the magic’s delicate coils caressing Arthur’s mind and tickling at the memories hidden inside.
‘Please, this must work,’ he pleaded. After a very long minute of sustained energy flow, the golden glow began to fade from Arthur’s head. Merlin had done all he could. Releasing a sigh, he felt all the power drained from his body, leaving him weak and barely able to stand upright. The prince had not stirred. He wouldn’t know if it had worked until Arthur awoke in the morning.
Merlin, exhausted, stumbled back to the anteroom, where he practically fell into the bed, asleep as soon as he settled into the soft mattress.
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[1] Rough translation: Through my power and strength, I command you to recall the memories.