Waste Not Your Arrow on the Hare - Merlin - Arthur/Merlin
Title: Waste Not Your Arrow on the Hare
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin; Gwen/Morgana; Gwen/Lancelot
Word Count: 7646
Rating: PG-13
A/N: A vampire AU that is part of the Scent 'verse. I have no idea how it ended up this length.
Summary: With cracks forming in Gwen and Morgana's relationship, Merlin watches as Gwen becomes interested in a charming new stranger.
The sun is warm and the market is busy; Merlin is paying very little attention to the stalls that Gwen is visiting. He's here to give her someone to chat to while she browses, but his eyes glaze over as they pour over yet another collection of necklaces and trinkets. They are all made from silver, this time, and are laid out on a sheet of purple material to display them to potential customers.
Merlin can tell from a simple glance that they are far out of his price range.
"Are you sure about this, Gwen?" Merlin asks. He can see the vendor lingering uncomfortably close-by, as if he suspects that Merlin is going to pocket the entire display at any moment. Merlin doesn't think that his pockets are deep enough.
Considering Merlin's scuffy appearance and overdone boredom, Merlin can't blame him. He would suspect himself as well: he is clearly a shifty-looking character.
"It's only a necklace. Morgana deserves a treat," Gwen says. Her nimble fingers skim over her favourites. Merlin has difficulty telling the various necklaces apart, but he won't admit as much to Gwen. The slightest change of colour of a jewel is enough to be a life-changing difference. He thinks that Gwen could easily have chosen a far more helpful shopping partner than himself. She'd whisked him away from the castle this morning, politely citing Morgana's permission when Arthur had started to complain, and now his feet hurt from trudging around the market all day.
"Morgana is the king's ward," Merlin says. It's enough to make the eyes of the vendor widen. "If she wants a necklace, she can probably get one herself."
Gwen looks up at him: Merlin knows her well enough by now to be able to tell that the expression in her eyes is disapproval. It's a lot softer on her than it is on Gaius. "You are very unromantic," she points out.
Merlin looks down at the collection of necklaces on the table and tries to imagine Arthur's response if he ever handed him over a necklace to wear.
For some reason, he just doesn't think that Arthur would be especially touched by the gesture.
"I have a different definition of romance," he says after a pause.
"A very different one," Gwen agrees. "Most of the time I have no idea how you and Arthur manage to get through the day without trying to kill each other."
Arthur's been in such a bad mood recently that Merlin can see very clearly where she is coming from. There are times when he is doing his chores that he likes to sit there and dwell upon all of the foul spells that he could cast if he wanted to. Arthur has been slightly better since Hunith arrived, his guilt from his behaviour over the full moon starting to wear off, but he is still sulking. Merlin doesn't particularly have the patience to put up with him.
"Okay," Gwen says decisively, picking up two of the necklaces. "Which one do you like better?"
He frowns determinedly at them. This is worse than trying to select the right herb for Gaius. "They're both very..." Gwen nods at him in encouragement. "Sparkly?"
He doesn't think that that was the most helpful comment that he could possibly have given. Gwen looks down at the items herself, with a small line appearing in her brow as she contemplates them.
He has to step backwards when a shadow falls between them and a strange man enters their conversation.
"This one," the stranger says. He is soft-spoken; he sounds shy. "It brings out your eyes."
Shy, yes, but apparently confident enough to approach women in the street and offer compliments and fashion advice. At the charmed dip of Gwen's head, Merlin has to restrain a smile.
"It's not for me," Gwen says hurriedly. She looks down at the necklaces instead of up at this handsome stranger. It's odd, in a way, to see her so bashful. At Morgana's side, she is usually quiet but confident. Now there is a girlish smile on her face and the hint of a blush to her cheeks. "But, thank you. You're very sweet."
The man she is talking to has an equally awkward smile on his face, and Merlin takes a moment as the unexpected spare wheel to try and make sense of him. He doesn't look as if he's from Camelot: Merlin's never seen him around before. That's not saying much. He's far from a native himself and he still feels new to the city. Most of his time here has been spent tucked away inside the castle grounds. There hasn't been a lot of time for him to spend walking the streets and learning to recognise the local's faces. Camelot is not Ealdor in any way.
The pair of them are spending a little more time than is strictly necessary blushing and smiling at each other. It makes Merlin wonder if he ought to interrupt.
"Please," the stranger says. "May I...?"
He takes one of the necklaces she had been contemplating and approaches the vendor, who has been lurking behind Merlin.
"No, I couldn't possibly-" Gwen protests, with a small shake of her hand. Even as she speaks, coins are exchanged and the necklace is bought. The stall-keeper looks extremely pleased with himself, and Merlin can't help but wonder how on Earth this man can hope to afford to buy gifts for random females. Gwen steps around Merlin to the man's side: Merlin has to look down at his arm just to ensure that he hasn't been turned invisible. Knowing how unpredictable his magic can be, it isn't entirely impossible.
His glance confirms, however, that he is still corporeal and can be seen by anyone who cares to look.
It seems, in that case, that Gwen doesn't care to.
It's something that makes his guts clench with something like unease. Morgana and Arthur will be waiting for them back at the castle; he's seen the way the girls are together, soft and doting, and receiving necklaces from strange men doesn't exactly fit in with that image of vampiric domestic bliss.
"I don't even know your name," Gwen says. She looks down at the necklace that has been passed to her now, and the smile on her face continues to grow. Merlin wonders if it would be too inappropriate to drag her back to the castle with him immediately.
"Lancelot," he responds. He is staring at her as if he can't look away. If Merlin hadn't know any better, he might have suspected her of casting a spell on him.
Merlin reaches forward, feeling as if he is approaching a bear, and places a hand on Gwen's shoulder. She startles, taking a deep breath of air, and it is enough to break their single-minded concentration upon each other. "We should probably start heading back," he suggests with a half-smile.
Gwen seems even more flustered now than ever, and her goodbyes to Lancelot are fumbled and embarrassed. Merlin is trying hard not to smirk. He doesn't want to allow himself to be nearly as obnoxious as Arthur is. They walk off together side by side, leaving Lancelot behind them.
"Don't say anything," Gwen pleads once they are fully out of earshot. "I know what you're thinking."
"I'm not thinking anything," Merlin protests, as innocently as he is able to do so. The knowledgable look in her eyes somewhat deflates his attempt at hiding behind ignorance. He'd been sure he was good at that. "Okay. Maybe there are a few thoughts."
Gwen nods with a single dip of her head. "He was a charming man," she says. She's certainly right there. Merlin isn't so dense that he can't spot charm and chivalry from a few paces away.
"And very handsome," he adds for her.
It makes her blush all over again. "Very handsome."
Merlin looks down at the cobbled ground. He really doesn't want to say this next bit. "And very not-Morgana?"
That alone is enough to make the blush fade with race-horse speed. "I know," Gwen says. "It was harmless, Merlin."
That's true, and Merlin isn't about to start acting as if she has committed an awful act of betrayal. She hasn't stabbed Morgana in the back and she certainly hasn't cheated on her. A smiling conversation with a handsome man, that's all it had been.
And yet...
It's the 'and yet...' that is the troubling part of this equation. He's fairly sure that she wouldn't have taken a necklace from a stranger or smiled like that at Lancelot before he had gone to Ealdor. While he's been gone, something has changed, some delicate balance has been altered.
"Is everything okay?" he asks, as casually as it is really possible to be considering their subject matter. "With you and Morgana?"
The long moment of silent before Gwen answers rather speaks for itself. She presses her lips together until they form a single thin line. Merlin has to bite his tongue to stop himself from saying anything stupid. Gwen knows more about the inner workings of her relationship than Merlin does.
"It's fine," she says eventually. "We're fine. Everything is a little stressful at the moment, that's all."
Her footsteps are beginning to speed up, so that Merlin has to hurry up as well in order to stay by her side. "Why?" he asks. Considering how mad their lives usually are, they've been normal and calm for the past week.
Gwen glances at him from the corner of her eyes, and she wears an expression that Merlin is disapointed to know all too well: it means that he is missing something important. More precisely, it probably means that Arthur has 'forgotten' to tell him something that he ought to have.
"It's their anniversary next month," she says. "Three years to the day since they were turned. I can't believe Arthur didn't tell you."
"Really? Have you met Arthur?"
It doesn't surprise him at all that Arthur had decided to keep this from him. Arthur doesn't even realise when he's keeping secrets: he's too wrapped up in himself to notice.
"It's not fair," Gwen sighs. They're nearly at the castle now. "We never had a choice about getting involved in this. Please, don't get me wrong: I wouldn't trade my time with Morgana for the world, but..."
Merlin looks at her as they walk together. It's a miracle that he doesn't walk straight into anyone else in the small crowd. Gwen's expression is cloudy, but it isn't long before she looks down and smiles.
"Never mind. Sometimes I wonder, that's all - what life might have been like if we'd never caught their eyes."
Merlin can't begin to imagine it, really. His place is at Arthur's side, as frustrating as that frequently is.
Gwen's head remains ducked as they cross the threshold into the castle's courtyard. "Don't tell anyone," she urges. "There's nothing to tell anyway, but, please..."
"You were given a necklace by a stranger," Merlin says. He shrugs. "I don't think there's anything much to tell."
He could cause trouble for her if he wanted to; everything could be blown out of proportion so easily, and that is why he is going to hold his tongue. He doesn't want to cause a fuss. Nothing should have to change. Their lives here may not be perfect but they are good. That's something to hold on to.
*
This is a bad idea.
This is a really, incredibly, fantastically bad idea, and Merlin should not have allowed himself to get involved.
Unfortunately, Merlin is not very good at staying out of the sort of situations he ought to avoid, and that is exactly the reason that he finds himself standing at Gwen's side inside Lancelot's house in the town. It is a small place, only made up from one room. The bed is in the corner and basic facilities for cooking are at the opposite side of the room. His clothes are hanging by the window, still wet from washing.
The week that has passed since Gwen first stumbled upon Lancelot in the market has been awkward and strange; it has passed too quickly. Arthur has kept Merlin busy through a long list of chores and through a selection of high-powered mood-swings, but it hasn't been enough to stop Merlin from keeping a quiet eye on Gwen and Morgana as well.
They're not glued to each other's sides as they usually are, and even when they are spending time together Merlin doesn't see them wrapped in conversation in quite the way that he is used to.
Gwen has spent a lot of time in the village. More than usual. He hadn't really been surprised at all when she'd asked if he'd come with her today - as back-up, as a chaperone, as someone to intervene if this starts to get too messy.
Merlin looks at the way the two are staring at each other. It's about as platonic as the way that Uther looks at his gold. Whatever's going on here, it's already 'messy'. Merlin supposes that his job is to make sure that it doesn't get filthy instead.
He clears his throat. On opposite sides of the room, both Lancelot and Gwen seem surprised to be reminded of his presence.
"So..." he asks. "You're new in Camelot, right?"
"Yes," Lancelot informs him, with a terribly polite smile. Everything about Lancelot is squeaky clean to the point of perfection. Merlin bets that his mother would adore him. "I only arrived this week. I'm afraid I can't confirm how long I will be in the city."
"Really?" Merlin asks. His hands are clasped behind his back, moving nervously all the time. "Are you here for trade or something?" He's starting to feel like a distant relative, making conversation for no other reason than because it is expected. His grandmother had been like that, before she'd passed.
"'Or something'." If Arthur had been the one to say that, he would be smirking right now. Lancelot, he only smiles in an apologetic way. "I work in a very specialised business. A colleague suggested that I might find matters of interest in the city."
It's all a little bit vague for Merlin's liking, and he doesn't know whether or not it's a good idea to search for more details. Lancelot seems nice, and polite, and a little too naive for his own good - and it must really be bad if Merlin, who according to Arthur is the most backwards country-boy ever to have existed, has to apply the word 'naive' to somebody. It's hard to be suspicious of him at all.
"Yeah? And did you?" he asks anyway. He doesn't want to quiz him, but he feels that something needs to be wrong about him. Not objectively, not magically, not anything specific. He just needs a flaw to latch onto for Gwen's sake - and, perhaps, for Morgana's sake most of all.
Considering Arthur and Uther's possible reaction if Morgana is hurt, it's probably for his own sake as well.
"I haven't been able to tell yet," Lancelot admits. He steps forward, closer to both of them, and he glances out the window as if he is checking for intruders. The only people outside are the occasional passers-by from the market, too focused on their own business to care about what is going on in here. "That is largely why I invited you here today. Both of you. I need your assistance."
Merlin nods attentively. He wants to help, if he can; perhaps it will encourage Lancelot to move on from Camelot quicker. He doesn't wish any harm on the man, after all. He's polite. Merlin would go as far as to say he's charming. "Just ask. We'd be happy to help."
"Anything," Gwen promises.
"This may sound quite fantastical," Lancelot cautions: Merlin holds back a snort of laughter. He thinks that he and Gwen are perfectly acquainted with the 'fantastical' by this point. All he needs to do now is ride a unicorn and shake hands with a cenetaur and he will have met all of the magical creatures he can handle. "I have been led to believe that there are vampires in the city: in the royal court itself, in fact."
Merlin doesn't have to feign his surprise, although it isn't quite for the reasons that Lancelot may have been expecting.
Gwen speaks before he can. "Vampires?" she asks. She somehow manages to sound amused by the entire notion of such creatures really existing.
"It sounds rather outlandish, I know. Have you noticed any unusual phenomeon throughout the city? Missing livestock, for example, or unexplained deaths?"
"Have you ever visited a city?" Merlin asks, but he doesn't even need Gwen's stern glare to tell him that it's inappropriate to say something like that. He's new here himself: he's always going to feel new, and considering how often he slips up and gets lost he hasn't yet earned the right to prance around like a city-boy. He clears his throat and does his best to look earnest. "Strange deaths don't have to point to vampires. That's crazy, right?"
"This world is host to more phenomena than I can name, never mind fight," Lancelot answers. He looks out of the window with a noble expression on his face: Merlin thinks it would be enough to make even Uther swoon at his feet. "My entire village was destroyed by a pack of vampires. I was the only one to survive. Since that time, I have dedicated my life to destroying evil where I can find it."
Merlin is not going to panic. Really, he isn't. There's no reason to, just because there's a bloody obsessed evil-fighting crusader in town looking for vampires. Maybe he's looking for an entirely different vampire altogether, one who actually deserves to be hunted.
He doesn't particularly think it's a very good idea to wait around and find out.
"Well, that sounds like a really good cause, but unfortunately I think you're out of luck. No vampires around here." He shrugs. "I suppose with Arthur and his knights around anything like that wouldn't stand a chance."
Lancelot nods in a way that seems to imply he agrees, but there's a frown on his face that is still enough to cause Merlin to worry.
"I hope that's true," he says. "I would like to come into the castle myself to investigate. There are tests to see if a vampire is present: if I could get close enough to the court tonight then I could check. It would be very inconspicious, I promise."
There is no way this will end well. He can't say no, as that might look unnaturally suspicious. If he says yes, he's about to allow a hunter into the castle.
Merlin would really have liked to have an option three.
"Tonight sounds workable," Gwen says - her voice sounds a little higher than usual, and the words rush out much faster. Merlin hopes she has a plan behind all of this, but he doubts if she knows what she's doing any more than he does. They're making this up as they go along, and it's all too easy for someone to get hurt.
*
"Arthur?" he asks as he's putting Arthur's freshly-laundered clothes into his closet. "Can I ask you something?"
Standing near the window, Arthur glances over his shoulder at him. It's a fast, sharp movement, there and gone again before Merlin can attempt to catch his eye. "I'm going to regret saying yes to this," Arthur sighs.
Merlin is willing to take that as 'yes' all the same.
"I was just, um, wondering earlier about... stuff..."
This conversation, it has to be said, went much smoother in his mind. He shouldn't be saying anything at all. While he knows that with supernatural reflexes and strength, there's no way that a hunter could hope to do any damage anyway, and that he and Gwen will be watching their backs all the same, but...
He has to ask.
Just in case.
His tongue won't unfreeze.
"Yes, Merlin?" Arthur says.
He clears his throat. "I was wondering some stuff about vampire lore," he says, rushing the words out in a hurry.
Arthur looks over his shoulder again, and this time Merlin can see the play of a smirk on his lips. It should be worrying. That expression usually means that he is about to be teased ruthlessly.
"Have you been in the castle's library again?" Arthur says - teasing and scolding all at once. "I thought you knew better than to pay attention to anything those books say."
"I do; I know that. Seriously." Merlin clears his throat. It really would be better if they never mentioned that again - especially the more embarrassing aspects, but he should know better than to expect Arthur to let something like that slip. "But - no, it's something different. I was wondering, actually, how you kill a vampire?"
There really is no way to make that question sound innocent, is there?
Arthur turns around, arms crossed, and leans against the window sill. "What's going on?" he asks, with a sense of disapproval that he must have picked up from Gaius.
Merlin tries to tell himself that it isn't quite as effective without the eyebrow arch. While that may be true, it is still rather terrifying.
"Nothing. At all. I'm not up to anything," he says, rounding it off with a forced laugh that makes Arthur frown even more. He is really not good at this. "It was only a question. A casual question I was wondering about, that's all."
"Merlin, if you think that you 'casually wondering' about how to kill me is in any way reassuring, I may need to send you to get your head checked out," Arthur says. Merlin has to privately admit that perhaps he has a point. "Tell me why you want to know."
They're going to get in so much trouble for this, Merlin knows - but after a tormented pause, he has to decide that his loyalties lie with keeping Arthur safe rather than playing with Gwen's crush.
He tells Arthur what he knows.
*
Arthur is still angry an hour later.
In fact, Merlin would feel quite correct in describing him as fuming.
He is pacing back and forth in Morgana's chambers, and he seems to be spending quite a great deal of his time throwing murderous glares in Gwen and Merlin's direction - which, really, isn't fair at all. He had told him the truth, hadn't he? Eventually.
The stony silence from Morgana where she sits on the edge of her bed is probably worse, however. Arthur's anger is fast and on the surface; Morgana's reaction is closer to betrayal. Merlin thinks it will be around for longer than Arthur's short-lived temper.
"What were you thinking?" Arthur snaps, certainly not for the first time. "Inviting a hunter into our home? Are you trying to get us killed?"
"You have super-human powers and I'm on your side. I wasn't going to let anything actually happen," Merlin says, but he thinks that the scathing narrowing of Arthur's eyes implies that he isn't actually all too pleased at the thought of being protected by Merlin. Maybe he'd prefer it if Merlin allows him to get mauled and staked and beheaded in the future. "And I didn't think his 'vampire detection' methods would really work. I swear. I thought he'd check, find nothing, then move on. No harm done, right?"
Arthur's jaw clenches. "I don't know," he admits.
Merlin knows that it costs him a lot to say those three words: he can see from the expression on Arthur's face, like a child close to a tantrum, that he resents being forced to admit to a lack of knowledge.
"Sitting here is pointless," Morgana says with a dramatic sigh. She isn't looking at Gwen, who stands at Merlin's side near the door. "We need to go into town and stop this before it goes any further. You know where he lives, don't you?"
Her cutting eyes are looking at Merlin now, but he doesn't want to agree: he forces himself to nod.
"Then we'll go there," Morgana says, as if it has been decided.
"And do what?" Gwen asks after she has cleared her throat. She looks down at the ground for a short moment, but soon forces her gaze up once more to meet Morgana's eyes. There is a bristling tension here that had been absent before. Merlin knows he would have noticed it. He's absent-minded, but he isn't stupid. "I can't set you on Lancelot. You'll rip him apart."
"It's nice to know you have such faith in me," Morgana snaps in return. A shiver runs down Merlin's spine. He's never heard her talking like that, not even when she's addressing Uther when he's being especially short-tempered.
"I'm sorry," Gwen says, looking down at the ground. Merlin can tell from her tone that it's an apology she is giving only because she feels that she ought to: Morgana must be able to tell that too. She's known Gwen far longer than Merlin has. She knows her better than Merlin can. "Recently, I don't think I've had much reason to."
And, there, that's something.
Something bad, something that makes Merlin frown, but it means that there is a reason behind the frosty atmosphere between the girls. It hasn't come from nowhere; he had known it couldn't. "Sorry, I don't mean to butt in," he says, even though he absolutely means to. "I'm just wondering if someone could tell me what's going on?"
There is an awkward silence after his question, and Merlin knows that he shouldn't have asked. It isn't polite to dive head-first into other people's relationship drama, especially uninvited.
Really, he tells himself, if they had been wanting him to keep his nose out then they wouldn't have been so open.
Right?
Arthur speaks first. "Never mind," he says for them all. When Arthur is the one rescuing him from socially inappropriate situations, Merlin thinks that must mean that things have got really bad. "Morgana does have a point, Guinevere..."
"No," Gwen says. "He's not a threat. He's a sweet, kind man."
"A 'sweet, kind man' who wants to kill us," Arthur points out. He's trying to be understanding. "We won't hurt him."
He never sounds that gentle with me, Merlin thinks grumpily - though that is quite possibly because he never has to.
"He won't even be able to tell that you're vampires," Gwen insists, as strongly as she can; she still sounds effortlessly polite and soft-spoken, but there is a firm strength in her voice.
It might have been enough to get them to listen to her, because Merlin doesn't think he's heard anyone sound quite so stern and pleading at once.
Unfortunately, as he feels is the case far too often in his life, fate is rooting for the other team: there is an awkward intake of breath by the door. Merlin turns around, and his brain is reluctant to process the sight before him because it is simply not fair. Lancelot stands there, crossbow in hand. There is a sword hung by his waist along with a set of what look like wooden daggers. He appears to have come to the castle equipped for war, dressed up like a child playing games. Merlin remembers his childhood with Will, remembers playing at being adults and being everything that they were not: knights and dragon-slayers and princes.
"You knew?" Lancelot says. He is looking at Gwen, but Merlin is aware that he is incriminated in this particular betrayal as well. "Is this some kind of trap?"
Merlin frowns, because if this had been some malicious kind of trap then they wouldn't have been likely to happily own up to it the instant they were caught.
"It isn't like that," Gwen says. She shakes her head, but Merlin reaches out for her arm to stop her from walking forwards. Approaching a well-meaning but potentially dangerous hero while he is scared and fully armed doesn't seem like a grand idea. "They aren't dangerous, Lancelot. They're... strange, but they're not dangerous."
Behind her, Arthur makes a sound that is almost like a snort; he barely manages to disguise it as a cough.
"We aren't going to kill you," Morgana says - though with a line of wicked reluctance in her voice, even Merlin has a tough time believing her. "But coming into our home, stalking our friends, planning treason against the prince... If the king heard of your actions I don't like to think what might happen."
"You don't frighten me with your threats," Lancelot says.
Merlin believes him. Heroes aren't known for having common sense.
Lancelot seems nervous despite his words, and his aim with his crossbow is wavering: it must be impossible to tell who he ought to focus on. Merlin looks at the metal tip of the bolt. It is sharpened to a dagger-like point, and he can only imagine the damage it would cause at such a short range. If anything is going to kill an immortal creature of the night, Merlin would put his money on that thing.
"Vampires are the same as everybody else," Merlin says in a rush - he tries not to think about Edwin. Of the three vampires that he has met in his life, two of them have been perfectly normal people in a royal kind of way. He's willing to take this as a representative sample. "Honestly, Lancelot. They're not bad people. They don't kill anybody."
"They drink blood. Vampires crave it."
"And we can deny ourselves," Arthur says, and the growl in his voice really isn't doing a lot of good for their cause if they are trying to sound non-threatening. Merlin doesn't say anything; he knows that Arthur is having a hard time forgiving himself for the injury done to the man he had attacked at the last full moon. The last thing that he needs is for someone to start wailing about how inherently evil vampires are. Usually, Merlin would say that actually the last thing in the world that Arthur needs is an ego boost, but right now he also doesn't need someone to encourage the ridiculous opinions he's been trying to adopt. "We don't need to drink."
"But you do drink," Lancelot insists. "I have never seen a vampire that abstains."
"You haven't seen it so it doesn't exist. Fantastic reasoning, there," Merlin says. It is only after Lancelot's crossbow is swung nervously in his direction that it occurs to him that this might be one of those situations in which he ought to try to be a little bit more polite. "Sorry, I'm only trying to say that-" He cuts himself off. It's hard to argue that Arthur is a sane and non-homocidal figure when he'd started snarling from the second the sharp bolt-point had been directed in Merlin's direction.
"Merlin, will you shut up?" Arthur growls in his direction. Merlin glances towards him and finds a black-eyed gaze.
He's never seen Arthur like that when he wasn't fighting his hunger; it isn't a good sign, can't be a good sign, and it really seems counter-productive that his heart begins to pound at that exact moment.
"Lancelot, you really shouldn't point that at him," Gwen says nervously. She outstretches a hand towards Lancelot as if she is the one with powers instead of Merlin. Lancelot stays clinging on just as tightly. "Arthur is a little bit over-protective. You need to aim elsewhere."
After a moment's pause it is swung towards Arthur instead, and the growling ceases.
"Hey, not at him either!"
"... Merlin is also a little bit over-protective," Gwen amends.
"It's not over-protective when there's a deadly weapon in the room." It's just-the-right-amount-of-protectiveness, actually, and Merlin thinks that they need to do something about that before somebody gets hurt.
Arthur seems to have the same idea.
Unfortunately, he doesn't seem to have processed the 'before somebody gets hurt' part.
The aim of the crossbow scatters towards Morgana; the forms of the vampires begin to blur but it's too fast for Merlin to see what's going on. Beside him, Gwen darts in Morgana's direction and Merlin raises his hand, eyes turning gold. He feels a flash of instinctual power. It knows better than he does what needs to be done.
The chaos stops, abruptly, with all of the players around him knocked from their feet.
Merlin can feel it crawling over his skin, that irresistable pull of power, and he has to struggle not to give into it. Blinking his eyes with his arm still outstretched, he tries to make sense of what has happened. At such a speed, it had been too hard to understand.
Lancelot and Arthur are on the floor by the doorway, knocked off their feet by his magic; Lancelot is wriggling in an attempt to get away, but with the open fury of a vampire pinning him down that is a battle that isn't worth fighting. There is no blood shed. They're both okay.
To Merlin's side, the girls are on the ground as well. Gwen is on her back with Morgana's hands clenched tightly around her arm: the bolt is embedded in the muscle of Gwen's arm and the blood is seeping fast. Morgana's eyes have turned black and her chest is heaving as she breathes air she doesn't need. She stares at the blood rather than Gwen's face.
"Morgana, we need Gaius," Merlin says, and the sound of his voice is enough to get the boys by the door to stop fighting. "Now."
Morgana looks up at him, her eyes swimming with ink. "I can't leave her."
"I think you have to." It isn't safe for her to be here, to be this close.
"I'll be fine," Gwen pants. Blood is slipping through Morgana's fingers and Merlin kneels down beside her, his hands taking their place.
He doesn't know if he can help and he wishes that he knew how to heal. "Go, Morgana. Arthur, you too."
Two of them aren't required merely fetch Gaius, but with blood streaming from the wound Merlin doesn't want to take any chances. The further the two vampires go, the better. He has to shout down Arthur's complaints about leaving them alone with Lancelot, but it works. They leave.
"You're okay, Gwen," he promises with a shaky smile, even though he isn't a physician and he really has no idea. "Honestly, you're okay. It isn't that bad."
"There's an arrow through my arm," Gwen says. Her voice is thin and reedy but still so matter-of-fact. She offers him a small smile that wavers in return. "That doesn't feel 'okay'."
And, well, she does have a point.
Merlin looks up as he hears the sound of scrambling coming towards them, but Lancelot no longer has a weapon in his hand. "I'm so sorry," he says, staring with blank horror at the red liquid running from the wound. For a hunter and a hero, Merlin thinks that he seems unnaturally horrified by the sight of it - but, maybe, it has something more to do with who it is coming from than the blood itself. "I was not aiming for you, I swear."
"Morgana," Gwen says, her lips pale and thin with stress. "I know."
She looks down at her arm and then looks away twice as fast, as if the sight alone makes it hurt even more. Merlin can understand that. The bolt poking from the skin like a broken bone is grotesque, and the blood is a brighter shade of red than Merlin would have thought possible if he hadn't seen it himself. He and Lancelot kneel by her side and murmur reassurances to her, trying to distract her from the pain and shock of the wound. Merlin had known it had been a bad idea to allow a vampire hunter into their home, regardless of how sweet and well-meaning Lancelot may have appeared; he had thought the danger would be to Arthur and Morgana, not to themselves.
Gwen has sat upright by the time Gaius makes it there, and she leans against Merlin for support. Gaius doesn't have to say anything to admolish them as he kneels beside them with his kit-bag in hand. He doesn't have to. The rush of guilt and regret is there all by itself.
*
"She'll be fine," his mother assures him, after a long hug that is difficult to pull away from. He clings on tightly for as long as he can: even if coming here has disrupted his life, he's so glad for her presence. "Gaius got to her in time."
"Her arm might not be the same again, he said. We were only trying to help," Merlin mumbles. Isn't that exactly his problem? Always trying to help; always trying to make things better; always trying to keep everybody happy. Maybe he'd get along better if he gave up on that attempt altogether. Life would be easier if he just didn't try.
"Gwen knew the dangers herself," his mum says. "And even if neither of you should have done it, you still can't blame yourself."
Merlin nods. His mum is either far better or worse at giving these disapproving talks than Gaius is. Gaius terrifies him; his mum shames him. Neither is especially fun.
"Promise me you won't do anything like this again," she says. "I sent you to Camelot to keep you safe, not to run around courting danger."
Sending him into a den of vampires hadn't been a brilliant idea in that case, he could say, but he held his tongue. She hadn't known. Outside of the town, he doesn't know how many people are aware of the state of the royal family.
"I'm doing my best," he says. "Danger finds me, not the other way around."
She mumbles something or other in disbelief, and he has to admit that maybe she has a point. Danger finds him, sure - but he doesn't go out of his way to avoid it. Arthur is proof of that. Any sane person would have walked away from the very first moment he had decided that push-and-sniff was an excellent way of saying hello, but Merlin is still here. He's still here and he feels more trapped than ever, because he couldn't leave Camelot now even if he wanted to.
"I'm going to go out for a bit," he says. "I'll be back in time for dinner."
It's strange to be living under the same roof as his mother now, and he spends most of his nights in Arthur's bedroom instead, sharing a bed with him. He's glad to have her around, regardless of how found he might be of mentally complaining about her. She's his mum. At the end of the day, after watching his friends bicker and his best friend get shot, the first thing that he wants to do is get a hug from her.
The second thing he wants to do is find Arthur and apologise, but he barely makes it down the corridor before the sound of his name interrupts his thoughts.
"Merlin," Lancelot says, standing awkwardly in one of the alchoves.
Whoever designed the castle, Merlin thinks, clearly wanted to make it a criminal's paradise; there are so many hidey-holes and hidden nooks that anyone could remain concealed here for weeks at a time. Though he knows that it's a bad idea, he approaches Lancelot all the same. "I thought you were arrested?" he says. He remembers; Uther had refused to listen to reason.
"Prince Arthur arranged my release," Lancelot says. His head is bowed; he doesn't meet Merlin's eyes. "I must concede that I may have been wrong in my initial opinion of him."
Merlin hopes that he means of all vampires, in fact. He remembers what Edwin had claimed; killing one vampire destroyed all below him in his lineage. With every stake, crossbow bolt and lick of fire, Lancelot could have been destroying dozens of lives.
"I came to ask about Gwen," Lancelot admits. "How is she?"
Merlin doesn't have the faintest clue what to say to that. She's been upstairs with Morgana ever since Gaius finished patching her up, and Merlin hasn't wanted to intrude. "Gaius says we won't know for certain how bad the damage is for a couple of days," he says, which isn't really all that reassuring. "At least you only got her arm, right?"
That isn't much better.
"I shouldn't have fired at all. I don't know why I came here."
Merlin scratches the back of his neck and frowns. "Why did you come here?" he asks. "You said someone told you about Arthur and Morgana?"
"A wise woman in the forests not far from here... She let me know that a pair of vampires had infilitrated the castle and were terrorising the townspeople. I can see now that this is not the case."
"The only person Arthur is 'terrorising' is me," Merlin grumbles, but despite his light, cautious smile he can't help but worry - there is somebody out there pointing vampire hunters in their direction. He doesn't like the sound of that, even if it is caused by good intentions. Lancelot is harmless, behind the pointy swords and prejudice against vampires. He could be talked around. When the next hunter comes, they might not be so lucky.
Of course, the next time a hunter is in Camelot he and Gwen will not invite them into the castle.
It doesn't really matter, he knows. They'll find their own way in.
"Are you going to stay in Camelot?" They could probably do with someone like Lancelot around, he thinks, if he can give up his habit of vampire-hunting.
"I don't think I have the strength to meet Gwen's eyes now," Lancelot confesses. "And I believe that she is far more than a maid to the Lady Morgana."
Merlin has to nod. "They have a certain... connection."
Lancelot's eyes are downcast, and Merlin wants to pat his shoulder and offer his condolences. He doesn't think it would help.
"In that case, may I ask you to pass on my apologies to her? I had best go on my way." He looks past Merlin, out to the corridor's window behind his back. "Perhaps, one day, I shall return. I hope I find her able to forgive me when I do."
"I'm, ah, sure you will?" Merlin suggests. He's not very good at epic goodbyes. Back in Ealdor, there had never been much call for this kind of thing. Will would laugh loudly if he ever tried anything so melodramatic. "Take care of yourself. Stay away from vampires. Don't pick fights with anything bigger than you."
Lancelot at least managed to offer one last, reassuring smile before he was prepared to go. This last goodbye shouldn't be with him, Merlin knows. He wishes he could tell himself that he or Arthur wouldn't be equally stupid in a similar situation, but he knows that isn't true at all. They're hard-wired to avoid pain, and maybe that means Lancelot is incapable of going to see Gwen like he should.
He's long gone by the time Merlin makes it upstairs to Arthur's bedroom.
"You're late," Arthur chides automatically when he walks through the door. He's studying a map of some kind spread out on his table and he doesn't bother to look up at him. Merlin thinks he's doing it on purpose, putting on a show of nonchalance because he is the prince and it's the sort of thing that princes do.
He's not having any of it.
"Lancelot just left," he states. It's enough to get Arthur to glance up at him, his expression carefully schooled so that it is unaffected. "Thank you."
"There was no point in keeping him imprisoned," Arthur says.
Lancelot seems to have learnt his lesson about the real nature of vampires, being far from the mindless killers he had imagined, but Merlin knows that isn't the real reason. He walks forward and takes his place at Arthur's side, muscling and wriggling his way in until Arthur has to smile and give in, abandoning his attempts at paying attention to his map. He lifts his hands from the table and allows Merlin to slip inside his grasp. "Thank you," Merlin repeats, happy to have his single-minded attention.
"You and Gwen would have been cross if anything had happened to him," Arthur says. "I was only trying to avoid the headache I would get from all your whining."
"You are a lot sweeter than you want to let on," Merlin accuses. Arthur's in an unnaturally good mood for once; despite the complaining, it's easy to tell as much from the smile that keeps trying to climb onto his face.
They're not going to talk about Lancelot, apparently; Arthur isn't going to yell at him for endangering everyone's lives, and Merlin isn't sure what to make of that. It isn't like Arthur to avoid confrontation, usually. Merlin should be glad for the opportunity to get away with everything consequence-free, but he isn't. He can't be. Arthur is pretending to be graceful and understanding, when that isn't him.
A consequence of guilt and unease, that's all.
"We'll talk," Merlin vows. He reaches up to brush his hand through Arthur's blond hair, winding his fingers through. "I'm going to force you to talk to me, y'know. I'm sure I'm supposed to be getting yelled at right now."
"Later," Arthur promises. He doesn't offer an explanation and instead his arms shift around Merlin's back. With a small tug they are pulled chest to chest. Merlin blinks and realises that, rather than trying to eat him, Arthur is hugging him.
This is certainly unusual.
He rubs his hand against Arthur's shoulder and lets him hold on for as long as he wants. He wishes he knew what was going on inside Arthur's head or at least what is wrong, for certain. There is no way for him to know until Arthur is ready to actually tell him for once; he holds him close, and hopes that just being here is enough for now.
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin; Gwen/Morgana; Gwen/Lancelot
Word Count: 7646
Rating: PG-13
A/N: A vampire AU that is part of the Scent 'verse. I have no idea how it ended up this length.
Summary: With cracks forming in Gwen and Morgana's relationship, Merlin watches as Gwen becomes interested in a charming new stranger.
The sun is warm and the market is busy; Merlin is paying very little attention to the stalls that Gwen is visiting. He's here to give her someone to chat to while she browses, but his eyes glaze over as they pour over yet another collection of necklaces and trinkets. They are all made from silver, this time, and are laid out on a sheet of purple material to display them to potential customers.
Merlin can tell from a simple glance that they are far out of his price range.
"Are you sure about this, Gwen?" Merlin asks. He can see the vendor lingering uncomfortably close-by, as if he suspects that Merlin is going to pocket the entire display at any moment. Merlin doesn't think that his pockets are deep enough.
Considering Merlin's scuffy appearance and overdone boredom, Merlin can't blame him. He would suspect himself as well: he is clearly a shifty-looking character.
"It's only a necklace. Morgana deserves a treat," Gwen says. Her nimble fingers skim over her favourites. Merlin has difficulty telling the various necklaces apart, but he won't admit as much to Gwen. The slightest change of colour of a jewel is enough to be a life-changing difference. He thinks that Gwen could easily have chosen a far more helpful shopping partner than himself. She'd whisked him away from the castle this morning, politely citing Morgana's permission when Arthur had started to complain, and now his feet hurt from trudging around the market all day.
"Morgana is the king's ward," Merlin says. It's enough to make the eyes of the vendor widen. "If she wants a necklace, she can probably get one herself."
Gwen looks up at him: Merlin knows her well enough by now to be able to tell that the expression in her eyes is disapproval. It's a lot softer on her than it is on Gaius. "You are very unromantic," she points out.
Merlin looks down at the collection of necklaces on the table and tries to imagine Arthur's response if he ever handed him over a necklace to wear.
For some reason, he just doesn't think that Arthur would be especially touched by the gesture.
"I have a different definition of romance," he says after a pause.
"A very different one," Gwen agrees. "Most of the time I have no idea how you and Arthur manage to get through the day without trying to kill each other."
Arthur's been in such a bad mood recently that Merlin can see very clearly where she is coming from. There are times when he is doing his chores that he likes to sit there and dwell upon all of the foul spells that he could cast if he wanted to. Arthur has been slightly better since Hunith arrived, his guilt from his behaviour over the full moon starting to wear off, but he is still sulking. Merlin doesn't particularly have the patience to put up with him.
"Okay," Gwen says decisively, picking up two of the necklaces. "Which one do you like better?"
He frowns determinedly at them. This is worse than trying to select the right herb for Gaius. "They're both very..." Gwen nods at him in encouragement. "Sparkly?"
He doesn't think that that was the most helpful comment that he could possibly have given. Gwen looks down at the items herself, with a small line appearing in her brow as she contemplates them.
He has to step backwards when a shadow falls between them and a strange man enters their conversation.
"This one," the stranger says. He is soft-spoken; he sounds shy. "It brings out your eyes."
Shy, yes, but apparently confident enough to approach women in the street and offer compliments and fashion advice. At the charmed dip of Gwen's head, Merlin has to restrain a smile.
"It's not for me," Gwen says hurriedly. She looks down at the necklaces instead of up at this handsome stranger. It's odd, in a way, to see her so bashful. At Morgana's side, she is usually quiet but confident. Now there is a girlish smile on her face and the hint of a blush to her cheeks. "But, thank you. You're very sweet."
The man she is talking to has an equally awkward smile on his face, and Merlin takes a moment as the unexpected spare wheel to try and make sense of him. He doesn't look as if he's from Camelot: Merlin's never seen him around before. That's not saying much. He's far from a native himself and he still feels new to the city. Most of his time here has been spent tucked away inside the castle grounds. There hasn't been a lot of time for him to spend walking the streets and learning to recognise the local's faces. Camelot is not Ealdor in any way.
The pair of them are spending a little more time than is strictly necessary blushing and smiling at each other. It makes Merlin wonder if he ought to interrupt.
"Please," the stranger says. "May I...?"
He takes one of the necklaces she had been contemplating and approaches the vendor, who has been lurking behind Merlin.
"No, I couldn't possibly-" Gwen protests, with a small shake of her hand. Even as she speaks, coins are exchanged and the necklace is bought. The stall-keeper looks extremely pleased with himself, and Merlin can't help but wonder how on Earth this man can hope to afford to buy gifts for random females. Gwen steps around Merlin to the man's side: Merlin has to look down at his arm just to ensure that he hasn't been turned invisible. Knowing how unpredictable his magic can be, it isn't entirely impossible.
His glance confirms, however, that he is still corporeal and can be seen by anyone who cares to look.
It seems, in that case, that Gwen doesn't care to.
It's something that makes his guts clench with something like unease. Morgana and Arthur will be waiting for them back at the castle; he's seen the way the girls are together, soft and doting, and receiving necklaces from strange men doesn't exactly fit in with that image of vampiric domestic bliss.
"I don't even know your name," Gwen says. She looks down at the necklace that has been passed to her now, and the smile on her face continues to grow. Merlin wonders if it would be too inappropriate to drag her back to the castle with him immediately.
"Lancelot," he responds. He is staring at her as if he can't look away. If Merlin hadn't know any better, he might have suspected her of casting a spell on him.
Merlin reaches forward, feeling as if he is approaching a bear, and places a hand on Gwen's shoulder. She startles, taking a deep breath of air, and it is enough to break their single-minded concentration upon each other. "We should probably start heading back," he suggests with a half-smile.
Gwen seems even more flustered now than ever, and her goodbyes to Lancelot are fumbled and embarrassed. Merlin is trying hard not to smirk. He doesn't want to allow himself to be nearly as obnoxious as Arthur is. They walk off together side by side, leaving Lancelot behind them.
"Don't say anything," Gwen pleads once they are fully out of earshot. "I know what you're thinking."
"I'm not thinking anything," Merlin protests, as innocently as he is able to do so. The knowledgable look in her eyes somewhat deflates his attempt at hiding behind ignorance. He'd been sure he was good at that. "Okay. Maybe there are a few thoughts."
Gwen nods with a single dip of her head. "He was a charming man," she says. She's certainly right there. Merlin isn't so dense that he can't spot charm and chivalry from a few paces away.
"And very handsome," he adds for her.
It makes her blush all over again. "Very handsome."
Merlin looks down at the cobbled ground. He really doesn't want to say this next bit. "And very not-Morgana?"
That alone is enough to make the blush fade with race-horse speed. "I know," Gwen says. "It was harmless, Merlin."
That's true, and Merlin isn't about to start acting as if she has committed an awful act of betrayal. She hasn't stabbed Morgana in the back and she certainly hasn't cheated on her. A smiling conversation with a handsome man, that's all it had been.
And yet...
It's the 'and yet...' that is the troubling part of this equation. He's fairly sure that she wouldn't have taken a necklace from a stranger or smiled like that at Lancelot before he had gone to Ealdor. While he's been gone, something has changed, some delicate balance has been altered.
"Is everything okay?" he asks, as casually as it is really possible to be considering their subject matter. "With you and Morgana?"
The long moment of silent before Gwen answers rather speaks for itself. She presses her lips together until they form a single thin line. Merlin has to bite his tongue to stop himself from saying anything stupid. Gwen knows more about the inner workings of her relationship than Merlin does.
"It's fine," she says eventually. "We're fine. Everything is a little stressful at the moment, that's all."
Her footsteps are beginning to speed up, so that Merlin has to hurry up as well in order to stay by her side. "Why?" he asks. Considering how mad their lives usually are, they've been normal and calm for the past week.
Gwen glances at him from the corner of her eyes, and she wears an expression that Merlin is disapointed to know all too well: it means that he is missing something important. More precisely, it probably means that Arthur has 'forgotten' to tell him something that he ought to have.
"It's their anniversary next month," she says. "Three years to the day since they were turned. I can't believe Arthur didn't tell you."
"Really? Have you met Arthur?"
It doesn't surprise him at all that Arthur had decided to keep this from him. Arthur doesn't even realise when he's keeping secrets: he's too wrapped up in himself to notice.
"It's not fair," Gwen sighs. They're nearly at the castle now. "We never had a choice about getting involved in this. Please, don't get me wrong: I wouldn't trade my time with Morgana for the world, but..."
Merlin looks at her as they walk together. It's a miracle that he doesn't walk straight into anyone else in the small crowd. Gwen's expression is cloudy, but it isn't long before she looks down and smiles.
"Never mind. Sometimes I wonder, that's all - what life might have been like if we'd never caught their eyes."
Merlin can't begin to imagine it, really. His place is at Arthur's side, as frustrating as that frequently is.
Gwen's head remains ducked as they cross the threshold into the castle's courtyard. "Don't tell anyone," she urges. "There's nothing to tell anyway, but, please..."
"You were given a necklace by a stranger," Merlin says. He shrugs. "I don't think there's anything much to tell."
He could cause trouble for her if he wanted to; everything could be blown out of proportion so easily, and that is why he is going to hold his tongue. He doesn't want to cause a fuss. Nothing should have to change. Their lives here may not be perfect but they are good. That's something to hold on to.
*
This is a bad idea.
This is a really, incredibly, fantastically bad idea, and Merlin should not have allowed himself to get involved.
Unfortunately, Merlin is not very good at staying out of the sort of situations he ought to avoid, and that is exactly the reason that he finds himself standing at Gwen's side inside Lancelot's house in the town. It is a small place, only made up from one room. The bed is in the corner and basic facilities for cooking are at the opposite side of the room. His clothes are hanging by the window, still wet from washing.
The week that has passed since Gwen first stumbled upon Lancelot in the market has been awkward and strange; it has passed too quickly. Arthur has kept Merlin busy through a long list of chores and through a selection of high-powered mood-swings, but it hasn't been enough to stop Merlin from keeping a quiet eye on Gwen and Morgana as well.
They're not glued to each other's sides as they usually are, and even when they are spending time together Merlin doesn't see them wrapped in conversation in quite the way that he is used to.
Gwen has spent a lot of time in the village. More than usual. He hadn't really been surprised at all when she'd asked if he'd come with her today - as back-up, as a chaperone, as someone to intervene if this starts to get too messy.
Merlin looks at the way the two are staring at each other. It's about as platonic as the way that Uther looks at his gold. Whatever's going on here, it's already 'messy'. Merlin supposes that his job is to make sure that it doesn't get filthy instead.
He clears his throat. On opposite sides of the room, both Lancelot and Gwen seem surprised to be reminded of his presence.
"So..." he asks. "You're new in Camelot, right?"
"Yes," Lancelot informs him, with a terribly polite smile. Everything about Lancelot is squeaky clean to the point of perfection. Merlin bets that his mother would adore him. "I only arrived this week. I'm afraid I can't confirm how long I will be in the city."
"Really?" Merlin asks. His hands are clasped behind his back, moving nervously all the time. "Are you here for trade or something?" He's starting to feel like a distant relative, making conversation for no other reason than because it is expected. His grandmother had been like that, before she'd passed.
"'Or something'." If Arthur had been the one to say that, he would be smirking right now. Lancelot, he only smiles in an apologetic way. "I work in a very specialised business. A colleague suggested that I might find matters of interest in the city."
It's all a little bit vague for Merlin's liking, and he doesn't know whether or not it's a good idea to search for more details. Lancelot seems nice, and polite, and a little too naive for his own good - and it must really be bad if Merlin, who according to Arthur is the most backwards country-boy ever to have existed, has to apply the word 'naive' to somebody. It's hard to be suspicious of him at all.
"Yeah? And did you?" he asks anyway. He doesn't want to quiz him, but he feels that something needs to be wrong about him. Not objectively, not magically, not anything specific. He just needs a flaw to latch onto for Gwen's sake - and, perhaps, for Morgana's sake most of all.
Considering Arthur and Uther's possible reaction if Morgana is hurt, it's probably for his own sake as well.
"I haven't been able to tell yet," Lancelot admits. He steps forward, closer to both of them, and he glances out the window as if he is checking for intruders. The only people outside are the occasional passers-by from the market, too focused on their own business to care about what is going on in here. "That is largely why I invited you here today. Both of you. I need your assistance."
Merlin nods attentively. He wants to help, if he can; perhaps it will encourage Lancelot to move on from Camelot quicker. He doesn't wish any harm on the man, after all. He's polite. Merlin would go as far as to say he's charming. "Just ask. We'd be happy to help."
"Anything," Gwen promises.
"This may sound quite fantastical," Lancelot cautions: Merlin holds back a snort of laughter. He thinks that he and Gwen are perfectly acquainted with the 'fantastical' by this point. All he needs to do now is ride a unicorn and shake hands with a cenetaur and he will have met all of the magical creatures he can handle. "I have been led to believe that there are vampires in the city: in the royal court itself, in fact."
Merlin doesn't have to feign his surprise, although it isn't quite for the reasons that Lancelot may have been expecting.
Gwen speaks before he can. "Vampires?" she asks. She somehow manages to sound amused by the entire notion of such creatures really existing.
"It sounds rather outlandish, I know. Have you noticed any unusual phenomeon throughout the city? Missing livestock, for example, or unexplained deaths?"
"Have you ever visited a city?" Merlin asks, but he doesn't even need Gwen's stern glare to tell him that it's inappropriate to say something like that. He's new here himself: he's always going to feel new, and considering how often he slips up and gets lost he hasn't yet earned the right to prance around like a city-boy. He clears his throat and does his best to look earnest. "Strange deaths don't have to point to vampires. That's crazy, right?"
"This world is host to more phenomena than I can name, never mind fight," Lancelot answers. He looks out of the window with a noble expression on his face: Merlin thinks it would be enough to make even Uther swoon at his feet. "My entire village was destroyed by a pack of vampires. I was the only one to survive. Since that time, I have dedicated my life to destroying evil where I can find it."
Merlin is not going to panic. Really, he isn't. There's no reason to, just because there's a bloody obsessed evil-fighting crusader in town looking for vampires. Maybe he's looking for an entirely different vampire altogether, one who actually deserves to be hunted.
He doesn't particularly think it's a very good idea to wait around and find out.
"Well, that sounds like a really good cause, but unfortunately I think you're out of luck. No vampires around here." He shrugs. "I suppose with Arthur and his knights around anything like that wouldn't stand a chance."
Lancelot nods in a way that seems to imply he agrees, but there's a frown on his face that is still enough to cause Merlin to worry.
"I hope that's true," he says. "I would like to come into the castle myself to investigate. There are tests to see if a vampire is present: if I could get close enough to the court tonight then I could check. It would be very inconspicious, I promise."
There is no way this will end well. He can't say no, as that might look unnaturally suspicious. If he says yes, he's about to allow a hunter into the castle.
Merlin would really have liked to have an option three.
"Tonight sounds workable," Gwen says - her voice sounds a little higher than usual, and the words rush out much faster. Merlin hopes she has a plan behind all of this, but he doubts if she knows what she's doing any more than he does. They're making this up as they go along, and it's all too easy for someone to get hurt.
*
"Arthur?" he asks as he's putting Arthur's freshly-laundered clothes into his closet. "Can I ask you something?"
Standing near the window, Arthur glances over his shoulder at him. It's a fast, sharp movement, there and gone again before Merlin can attempt to catch his eye. "I'm going to regret saying yes to this," Arthur sighs.
Merlin is willing to take that as 'yes' all the same.
"I was just, um, wondering earlier about... stuff..."
This conversation, it has to be said, went much smoother in his mind. He shouldn't be saying anything at all. While he knows that with supernatural reflexes and strength, there's no way that a hunter could hope to do any damage anyway, and that he and Gwen will be watching their backs all the same, but...
He has to ask.
Just in case.
His tongue won't unfreeze.
"Yes, Merlin?" Arthur says.
He clears his throat. "I was wondering some stuff about vampire lore," he says, rushing the words out in a hurry.
Arthur looks over his shoulder again, and this time Merlin can see the play of a smirk on his lips. It should be worrying. That expression usually means that he is about to be teased ruthlessly.
"Have you been in the castle's library again?" Arthur says - teasing and scolding all at once. "I thought you knew better than to pay attention to anything those books say."
"I do; I know that. Seriously." Merlin clears his throat. It really would be better if they never mentioned that again - especially the more embarrassing aspects, but he should know better than to expect Arthur to let something like that slip. "But - no, it's something different. I was wondering, actually, how you kill a vampire?"
There really is no way to make that question sound innocent, is there?
Arthur turns around, arms crossed, and leans against the window sill. "What's going on?" he asks, with a sense of disapproval that he must have picked up from Gaius.
Merlin tries to tell himself that it isn't quite as effective without the eyebrow arch. While that may be true, it is still rather terrifying.
"Nothing. At all. I'm not up to anything," he says, rounding it off with a forced laugh that makes Arthur frown even more. He is really not good at this. "It was only a question. A casual question I was wondering about, that's all."
"Merlin, if you think that you 'casually wondering' about how to kill me is in any way reassuring, I may need to send you to get your head checked out," Arthur says. Merlin has to privately admit that perhaps he has a point. "Tell me why you want to know."
They're going to get in so much trouble for this, Merlin knows - but after a tormented pause, he has to decide that his loyalties lie with keeping Arthur safe rather than playing with Gwen's crush.
He tells Arthur what he knows.
*
Arthur is still angry an hour later.
In fact, Merlin would feel quite correct in describing him as fuming.
He is pacing back and forth in Morgana's chambers, and he seems to be spending quite a great deal of his time throwing murderous glares in Gwen and Merlin's direction - which, really, isn't fair at all. He had told him the truth, hadn't he? Eventually.
The stony silence from Morgana where she sits on the edge of her bed is probably worse, however. Arthur's anger is fast and on the surface; Morgana's reaction is closer to betrayal. Merlin thinks it will be around for longer than Arthur's short-lived temper.
"What were you thinking?" Arthur snaps, certainly not for the first time. "Inviting a hunter into our home? Are you trying to get us killed?"
"You have super-human powers and I'm on your side. I wasn't going to let anything actually happen," Merlin says, but he thinks that the scathing narrowing of Arthur's eyes implies that he isn't actually all too pleased at the thought of being protected by Merlin. Maybe he'd prefer it if Merlin allows him to get mauled and staked and beheaded in the future. "And I didn't think his 'vampire detection' methods would really work. I swear. I thought he'd check, find nothing, then move on. No harm done, right?"
Arthur's jaw clenches. "I don't know," he admits.
Merlin knows that it costs him a lot to say those three words: he can see from the expression on Arthur's face, like a child close to a tantrum, that he resents being forced to admit to a lack of knowledge.
"Sitting here is pointless," Morgana says with a dramatic sigh. She isn't looking at Gwen, who stands at Merlin's side near the door. "We need to go into town and stop this before it goes any further. You know where he lives, don't you?"
Her cutting eyes are looking at Merlin now, but he doesn't want to agree: he forces himself to nod.
"Then we'll go there," Morgana says, as if it has been decided.
"And do what?" Gwen asks after she has cleared her throat. She looks down at the ground for a short moment, but soon forces her gaze up once more to meet Morgana's eyes. There is a bristling tension here that had been absent before. Merlin knows he would have noticed it. He's absent-minded, but he isn't stupid. "I can't set you on Lancelot. You'll rip him apart."
"It's nice to know you have such faith in me," Morgana snaps in return. A shiver runs down Merlin's spine. He's never heard her talking like that, not even when she's addressing Uther when he's being especially short-tempered.
"I'm sorry," Gwen says, looking down at the ground. Merlin can tell from her tone that it's an apology she is giving only because she feels that she ought to: Morgana must be able to tell that too. She's known Gwen far longer than Merlin has. She knows her better than Merlin can. "Recently, I don't think I've had much reason to."
And, there, that's something.
Something bad, something that makes Merlin frown, but it means that there is a reason behind the frosty atmosphere between the girls. It hasn't come from nowhere; he had known it couldn't. "Sorry, I don't mean to butt in," he says, even though he absolutely means to. "I'm just wondering if someone could tell me what's going on?"
There is an awkward silence after his question, and Merlin knows that he shouldn't have asked. It isn't polite to dive head-first into other people's relationship drama, especially uninvited.
Really, he tells himself, if they had been wanting him to keep his nose out then they wouldn't have been so open.
Right?
Arthur speaks first. "Never mind," he says for them all. When Arthur is the one rescuing him from socially inappropriate situations, Merlin thinks that must mean that things have got really bad. "Morgana does have a point, Guinevere..."
"No," Gwen says. "He's not a threat. He's a sweet, kind man."
"A 'sweet, kind man' who wants to kill us," Arthur points out. He's trying to be understanding. "We won't hurt him."
He never sounds that gentle with me, Merlin thinks grumpily - though that is quite possibly because he never has to.
"He won't even be able to tell that you're vampires," Gwen insists, as strongly as she can; she still sounds effortlessly polite and soft-spoken, but there is a firm strength in her voice.
It might have been enough to get them to listen to her, because Merlin doesn't think he's heard anyone sound quite so stern and pleading at once.
Unfortunately, as he feels is the case far too often in his life, fate is rooting for the other team: there is an awkward intake of breath by the door. Merlin turns around, and his brain is reluctant to process the sight before him because it is simply not fair. Lancelot stands there, crossbow in hand. There is a sword hung by his waist along with a set of what look like wooden daggers. He appears to have come to the castle equipped for war, dressed up like a child playing games. Merlin remembers his childhood with Will, remembers playing at being adults and being everything that they were not: knights and dragon-slayers and princes.
"You knew?" Lancelot says. He is looking at Gwen, but Merlin is aware that he is incriminated in this particular betrayal as well. "Is this some kind of trap?"
Merlin frowns, because if this had been some malicious kind of trap then they wouldn't have been likely to happily own up to it the instant they were caught.
"It isn't like that," Gwen says. She shakes her head, but Merlin reaches out for her arm to stop her from walking forwards. Approaching a well-meaning but potentially dangerous hero while he is scared and fully armed doesn't seem like a grand idea. "They aren't dangerous, Lancelot. They're... strange, but they're not dangerous."
Behind her, Arthur makes a sound that is almost like a snort; he barely manages to disguise it as a cough.
"We aren't going to kill you," Morgana says - though with a line of wicked reluctance in her voice, even Merlin has a tough time believing her. "But coming into our home, stalking our friends, planning treason against the prince... If the king heard of your actions I don't like to think what might happen."
"You don't frighten me with your threats," Lancelot says.
Merlin believes him. Heroes aren't known for having common sense.
Lancelot seems nervous despite his words, and his aim with his crossbow is wavering: it must be impossible to tell who he ought to focus on. Merlin looks at the metal tip of the bolt. It is sharpened to a dagger-like point, and he can only imagine the damage it would cause at such a short range. If anything is going to kill an immortal creature of the night, Merlin would put his money on that thing.
"Vampires are the same as everybody else," Merlin says in a rush - he tries not to think about Edwin. Of the three vampires that he has met in his life, two of them have been perfectly normal people in a royal kind of way. He's willing to take this as a representative sample. "Honestly, Lancelot. They're not bad people. They don't kill anybody."
"They drink blood. Vampires crave it."
"And we can deny ourselves," Arthur says, and the growl in his voice really isn't doing a lot of good for their cause if they are trying to sound non-threatening. Merlin doesn't say anything; he knows that Arthur is having a hard time forgiving himself for the injury done to the man he had attacked at the last full moon. The last thing that he needs is for someone to start wailing about how inherently evil vampires are. Usually, Merlin would say that actually the last thing in the world that Arthur needs is an ego boost, but right now he also doesn't need someone to encourage the ridiculous opinions he's been trying to adopt. "We don't need to drink."
"But you do drink," Lancelot insists. "I have never seen a vampire that abstains."
"You haven't seen it so it doesn't exist. Fantastic reasoning, there," Merlin says. It is only after Lancelot's crossbow is swung nervously in his direction that it occurs to him that this might be one of those situations in which he ought to try to be a little bit more polite. "Sorry, I'm only trying to say that-" He cuts himself off. It's hard to argue that Arthur is a sane and non-homocidal figure when he'd started snarling from the second the sharp bolt-point had been directed in Merlin's direction.
"Merlin, will you shut up?" Arthur growls in his direction. Merlin glances towards him and finds a black-eyed gaze.
He's never seen Arthur like that when he wasn't fighting his hunger; it isn't a good sign, can't be a good sign, and it really seems counter-productive that his heart begins to pound at that exact moment.
"Lancelot, you really shouldn't point that at him," Gwen says nervously. She outstretches a hand towards Lancelot as if she is the one with powers instead of Merlin. Lancelot stays clinging on just as tightly. "Arthur is a little bit over-protective. You need to aim elsewhere."
After a moment's pause it is swung towards Arthur instead, and the growling ceases.
"Hey, not at him either!"
"... Merlin is also a little bit over-protective," Gwen amends.
"It's not over-protective when there's a deadly weapon in the room." It's just-the-right-amount-of-protectiveness, actually, and Merlin thinks that they need to do something about that before somebody gets hurt.
Arthur seems to have the same idea.
Unfortunately, he doesn't seem to have processed the 'before somebody gets hurt' part.
The aim of the crossbow scatters towards Morgana; the forms of the vampires begin to blur but it's too fast for Merlin to see what's going on. Beside him, Gwen darts in Morgana's direction and Merlin raises his hand, eyes turning gold. He feels a flash of instinctual power. It knows better than he does what needs to be done.
The chaos stops, abruptly, with all of the players around him knocked from their feet.
Merlin can feel it crawling over his skin, that irresistable pull of power, and he has to struggle not to give into it. Blinking his eyes with his arm still outstretched, he tries to make sense of what has happened. At such a speed, it had been too hard to understand.
Lancelot and Arthur are on the floor by the doorway, knocked off their feet by his magic; Lancelot is wriggling in an attempt to get away, but with the open fury of a vampire pinning him down that is a battle that isn't worth fighting. There is no blood shed. They're both okay.
To Merlin's side, the girls are on the ground as well. Gwen is on her back with Morgana's hands clenched tightly around her arm: the bolt is embedded in the muscle of Gwen's arm and the blood is seeping fast. Morgana's eyes have turned black and her chest is heaving as she breathes air she doesn't need. She stares at the blood rather than Gwen's face.
"Morgana, we need Gaius," Merlin says, and the sound of his voice is enough to get the boys by the door to stop fighting. "Now."
Morgana looks up at him, her eyes swimming with ink. "I can't leave her."
"I think you have to." It isn't safe for her to be here, to be this close.
"I'll be fine," Gwen pants. Blood is slipping through Morgana's fingers and Merlin kneels down beside her, his hands taking their place.
He doesn't know if he can help and he wishes that he knew how to heal. "Go, Morgana. Arthur, you too."
Two of them aren't required merely fetch Gaius, but with blood streaming from the wound Merlin doesn't want to take any chances. The further the two vampires go, the better. He has to shout down Arthur's complaints about leaving them alone with Lancelot, but it works. They leave.
"You're okay, Gwen," he promises with a shaky smile, even though he isn't a physician and he really has no idea. "Honestly, you're okay. It isn't that bad."
"There's an arrow through my arm," Gwen says. Her voice is thin and reedy but still so matter-of-fact. She offers him a small smile that wavers in return. "That doesn't feel 'okay'."
And, well, she does have a point.
Merlin looks up as he hears the sound of scrambling coming towards them, but Lancelot no longer has a weapon in his hand. "I'm so sorry," he says, staring with blank horror at the red liquid running from the wound. For a hunter and a hero, Merlin thinks that he seems unnaturally horrified by the sight of it - but, maybe, it has something more to do with who it is coming from than the blood itself. "I was not aiming for you, I swear."
"Morgana," Gwen says, her lips pale and thin with stress. "I know."
She looks down at her arm and then looks away twice as fast, as if the sight alone makes it hurt even more. Merlin can understand that. The bolt poking from the skin like a broken bone is grotesque, and the blood is a brighter shade of red than Merlin would have thought possible if he hadn't seen it himself. He and Lancelot kneel by her side and murmur reassurances to her, trying to distract her from the pain and shock of the wound. Merlin had known it had been a bad idea to allow a vampire hunter into their home, regardless of how sweet and well-meaning Lancelot may have appeared; he had thought the danger would be to Arthur and Morgana, not to themselves.
Gwen has sat upright by the time Gaius makes it there, and she leans against Merlin for support. Gaius doesn't have to say anything to admolish them as he kneels beside them with his kit-bag in hand. He doesn't have to. The rush of guilt and regret is there all by itself.
*
"She'll be fine," his mother assures him, after a long hug that is difficult to pull away from. He clings on tightly for as long as he can: even if coming here has disrupted his life, he's so glad for her presence. "Gaius got to her in time."
"Her arm might not be the same again, he said. We were only trying to help," Merlin mumbles. Isn't that exactly his problem? Always trying to help; always trying to make things better; always trying to keep everybody happy. Maybe he'd get along better if he gave up on that attempt altogether. Life would be easier if he just didn't try.
"Gwen knew the dangers herself," his mum says. "And even if neither of you should have done it, you still can't blame yourself."
Merlin nods. His mum is either far better or worse at giving these disapproving talks than Gaius is. Gaius terrifies him; his mum shames him. Neither is especially fun.
"Promise me you won't do anything like this again," she says. "I sent you to Camelot to keep you safe, not to run around courting danger."
Sending him into a den of vampires hadn't been a brilliant idea in that case, he could say, but he held his tongue. She hadn't known. Outside of the town, he doesn't know how many people are aware of the state of the royal family.
"I'm doing my best," he says. "Danger finds me, not the other way around."
She mumbles something or other in disbelief, and he has to admit that maybe she has a point. Danger finds him, sure - but he doesn't go out of his way to avoid it. Arthur is proof of that. Any sane person would have walked away from the very first moment he had decided that push-and-sniff was an excellent way of saying hello, but Merlin is still here. He's still here and he feels more trapped than ever, because he couldn't leave Camelot now even if he wanted to.
"I'm going to go out for a bit," he says. "I'll be back in time for dinner."
It's strange to be living under the same roof as his mother now, and he spends most of his nights in Arthur's bedroom instead, sharing a bed with him. He's glad to have her around, regardless of how found he might be of mentally complaining about her. She's his mum. At the end of the day, after watching his friends bicker and his best friend get shot, the first thing that he wants to do is get a hug from her.
The second thing he wants to do is find Arthur and apologise, but he barely makes it down the corridor before the sound of his name interrupts his thoughts.
"Merlin," Lancelot says, standing awkwardly in one of the alchoves.
Whoever designed the castle, Merlin thinks, clearly wanted to make it a criminal's paradise; there are so many hidey-holes and hidden nooks that anyone could remain concealed here for weeks at a time. Though he knows that it's a bad idea, he approaches Lancelot all the same. "I thought you were arrested?" he says. He remembers; Uther had refused to listen to reason.
"Prince Arthur arranged my release," Lancelot says. His head is bowed; he doesn't meet Merlin's eyes. "I must concede that I may have been wrong in my initial opinion of him."
Merlin hopes that he means of all vampires, in fact. He remembers what Edwin had claimed; killing one vampire destroyed all below him in his lineage. With every stake, crossbow bolt and lick of fire, Lancelot could have been destroying dozens of lives.
"I came to ask about Gwen," Lancelot admits. "How is she?"
Merlin doesn't have the faintest clue what to say to that. She's been upstairs with Morgana ever since Gaius finished patching her up, and Merlin hasn't wanted to intrude. "Gaius says we won't know for certain how bad the damage is for a couple of days," he says, which isn't really all that reassuring. "At least you only got her arm, right?"
That isn't much better.
"I shouldn't have fired at all. I don't know why I came here."
Merlin scratches the back of his neck and frowns. "Why did you come here?" he asks. "You said someone told you about Arthur and Morgana?"
"A wise woman in the forests not far from here... She let me know that a pair of vampires had infilitrated the castle and were terrorising the townspeople. I can see now that this is not the case."
"The only person Arthur is 'terrorising' is me," Merlin grumbles, but despite his light, cautious smile he can't help but worry - there is somebody out there pointing vampire hunters in their direction. He doesn't like the sound of that, even if it is caused by good intentions. Lancelot is harmless, behind the pointy swords and prejudice against vampires. He could be talked around. When the next hunter comes, they might not be so lucky.
Of course, the next time a hunter is in Camelot he and Gwen will not invite them into the castle.
It doesn't really matter, he knows. They'll find their own way in.
"Are you going to stay in Camelot?" They could probably do with someone like Lancelot around, he thinks, if he can give up his habit of vampire-hunting.
"I don't think I have the strength to meet Gwen's eyes now," Lancelot confesses. "And I believe that she is far more than a maid to the Lady Morgana."
Merlin has to nod. "They have a certain... connection."
Lancelot's eyes are downcast, and Merlin wants to pat his shoulder and offer his condolences. He doesn't think it would help.
"In that case, may I ask you to pass on my apologies to her? I had best go on my way." He looks past Merlin, out to the corridor's window behind his back. "Perhaps, one day, I shall return. I hope I find her able to forgive me when I do."
"I'm, ah, sure you will?" Merlin suggests. He's not very good at epic goodbyes. Back in Ealdor, there had never been much call for this kind of thing. Will would laugh loudly if he ever tried anything so melodramatic. "Take care of yourself. Stay away from vampires. Don't pick fights with anything bigger than you."
Lancelot at least managed to offer one last, reassuring smile before he was prepared to go. This last goodbye shouldn't be with him, Merlin knows. He wishes he could tell himself that he or Arthur wouldn't be equally stupid in a similar situation, but he knows that isn't true at all. They're hard-wired to avoid pain, and maybe that means Lancelot is incapable of going to see Gwen like he should.
He's long gone by the time Merlin makes it upstairs to Arthur's bedroom.
"You're late," Arthur chides automatically when he walks through the door. He's studying a map of some kind spread out on his table and he doesn't bother to look up at him. Merlin thinks he's doing it on purpose, putting on a show of nonchalance because he is the prince and it's the sort of thing that princes do.
He's not having any of it.
"Lancelot just left," he states. It's enough to get Arthur to glance up at him, his expression carefully schooled so that it is unaffected. "Thank you."
"There was no point in keeping him imprisoned," Arthur says.
Lancelot seems to have learnt his lesson about the real nature of vampires, being far from the mindless killers he had imagined, but Merlin knows that isn't the real reason. He walks forward and takes his place at Arthur's side, muscling and wriggling his way in until Arthur has to smile and give in, abandoning his attempts at paying attention to his map. He lifts his hands from the table and allows Merlin to slip inside his grasp. "Thank you," Merlin repeats, happy to have his single-minded attention.
"You and Gwen would have been cross if anything had happened to him," Arthur says. "I was only trying to avoid the headache I would get from all your whining."
"You are a lot sweeter than you want to let on," Merlin accuses. Arthur's in an unnaturally good mood for once; despite the complaining, it's easy to tell as much from the smile that keeps trying to climb onto his face.
They're not going to talk about Lancelot, apparently; Arthur isn't going to yell at him for endangering everyone's lives, and Merlin isn't sure what to make of that. It isn't like Arthur to avoid confrontation, usually. Merlin should be glad for the opportunity to get away with everything consequence-free, but he isn't. He can't be. Arthur is pretending to be graceful and understanding, when that isn't him.
A consequence of guilt and unease, that's all.
"We'll talk," Merlin vows. He reaches up to brush his hand through Arthur's blond hair, winding his fingers through. "I'm going to force you to talk to me, y'know. I'm sure I'm supposed to be getting yelled at right now."
"Later," Arthur promises. He doesn't offer an explanation and instead his arms shift around Merlin's back. With a small tug they are pulled chest to chest. Merlin blinks and realises that, rather than trying to eat him, Arthur is hugging him.
This is certainly unusual.
He rubs his hand against Arthur's shoulder and lets him hold on for as long as he wants. He wishes he knew what was going on inside Arthur's head or at least what is wrong, for certain. There is no way for him to know until Arthur is ready to actually tell him for once; he holds him close, and hopes that just being here is enough for now.