Fic: Confrontation
Title: Confrontation
Author:
jelazakazone
Fandom: Merlin
Pairings/characters: Arthur/Merlin/Mordred
Rating: PG13
Word Count: ~1260
Warnings:
Summary: Mordred confronts Merlin.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and am not intending to profit from them
Author’s notes: I don’t even know what this is. It just fell out of me. It’s probably full of holes, but I’ll be playing with these ideas for a while, so here’s another one. The threesome is only implied, unfortunately. There might be a sequel to this. Thanks to
fleete for the quick cheerleading.
Merlin was surprised at the force the newest knight used to throw him bodily against the wall, mashing his face into the cold stone. “Ungh. What’d you do that for?” He rubbed his cheek, giving Mordred a quizzical look.
Mordred pressed his hands firmly into Merlin’s shoulders, pinning him to the wall.
“What. Are. You. Hiding. From. Me?” he hissed. “Why have you closed your mind off to me? I thought you liked me.”
Merlin started to resist, to tell him that he wasn’t hiding anything, but realized the man already knew. Not only that, Mordred wasn’t shy to use his magic and he was probably stronger now, due to all his training with Arthur.
Impatient with Merlin’s lack of response, he turned the warlock around. The pitch of his voice rose. “Is there something I need to know?”
Merlin slumped, defeated. He looked to the side, avoiding Mordred’s direct gaze.
“There have been prophecies, Mordred.”
Mordred’s eyebrow quirked up at this, but his grip did not lessen. He leaned in, warm breath caressing Merlin’s face, tickling his chin.
“What kind of prophecies,” he sneered. “Are you worried that I’m going to slip a dagger in your side while you sleep? Do I stalk your dreams?”
Merlin choked back tears. Shaking his head, he said, “No. No. It’s much worse.” He looked directly at Mordred, conflicting emotions threatening to shake him apart.
Mordred looked confused now and Merlin could have laughed at his face had the situation not been so grave.
“You are not afraid of your own death?” Mordred shook Merlin now, as though he could get the answer out of him physically.
“Never!”
“What then?” Mordred roared, face flushed with anger.
“You are going to kill Arthur.” Merlin’s knees buckled and he started to slide to the floor.
Mordred caught him easily, helping him down to the floor. He knelt in front of Merlin.
“What?” His tone was so incredulous it caught Merlin by surprise.
“The prophecies all point to you having a hand in Arthur’s death. I must prevent that. But.. wait, why are you looking at me like that?”
Mordred threw his head back and laughed, loose curls shaking merrily. He looked at Merlin again.
“Merlin, how could I ever kill Arthur? I owe him a debt.” He shook his head, clearly amused.
“Mordred, I don’t know, but the dragon has told me...”
“The dragon?” Mordred interrupted. “What else aren’t you telling the king, Merlin?”
Merlin held his hands out, protesting. “Nothing, nothing. I have no secrets from Arthur, well except those two.”
Mordred chortled. “You are really in quite a bind now, aren’t you? And to think that I thought you were just jealous of me for sharing Arthur’s bed.”
Merlin felt as though his heart would fall through his body and shatter on the floor; it felt both fragile and heavy at the same time. Tears leaked out of his eyes at the realization he’d been replaced.
Smoothly, gently, Mordred said, “Merlin, everything will be fine. Arthur has not cast you aside.” He placed his hand on Merlin’s wrist which sent cool tingles up his arm. He shivered.
“Merlin, snap out of it! I am not the enemy.” And then he added, almost wildly, “Take me to your dragon.”
Still subdued, Merlin nodded.
****
Outside, feet in contact with the earth, Merlin felt a surge of energy renewing him. He breathed in the life current around him, connecting with the power in every living being. His heart beat a strong tattoo as his feet dug into the soil, leaving small divets. Soon, energy was pooling and then coiling low in his belly. He felt it spiral up up up and up until he could contain it no longer and he roared.
“O drakon, e male so ftengometta tesd ‘hup’ anankes!”
Merlin felt Mordred shiver next to him as Kilgharrah landed. He was unsure if it was due to the cold or the proximity of the dragon as they’d not had time to grab jackets before leaving the castle. He was grateful for the company of the dragon; it evened the playing ground for him and he felt much more confident next to Mordred with Kilgharrah to shore him up.
“So, you bring me Mordred,” Kilgharrah said with a gleam in his eye. “You have been too weak, too soft-hearted to do the deed yourself, and you bring him to me.”
Kilgharrah opened his mouth and reared back, flame pouring forth. Merlin quickly held up a hand to shield them.
“No, Kilgharrah! You must not harm him. I do not believe that one who has sacrificed his life twice for Arthur’s is meant to kill him. Those prophecies are all riddles. Who knows what role Mordred will have in Arthur’s fate. I have brought him to you to ask clemency for him, as I once gave to you.”
Kilgharrah nodded before saying, “As you wish, although I think it great folly.”
He snaked his neck around, bringing his snout close to Mordred’s face. Merlin could feel Mordred’s wracking shivers and did not resist an urge to put an arm around the young man’s shoulders.
“If I find that you have fucked up Albion and Arthur’s destiny, I will hunt you down and roast you until your bones are ashes. Is that understood?”
Merlin could hear Mordred’s teeth clacking together as he answered, “Yes, sir.”
“Very well. Until the next time, Merlin,” he said, before turning around and flying off.
Now it was Merlin’s turn to support a sagging Mordred, but he did not let the man sink to the wet ground; he wrapped an arm around his waist and walked him back to the castle.
“Come, you are chilled. I cannot take you to Gaius and the knights will ask too many questions. Arthur’s chambers are the best option right now.”
Merlin prayed that Arthur was in the council chambers, or maybe with the hounds. He wasn’t sure he had the wherewithal to deal with Arthur under the circumstances.
Merlin thought if they chatted on the way, it might help distract Mordred, and possibly even warm him up a bit.
“Why did you want me to take you to the dragon, Mordred?”
“I have never been one to shrink away from the unknown or fearful experiences. I had heard the other knights talk about the Great Dragon in battles and wondered what it would be like to see one. The awe I saw in their faces did not prepare me for meeting Kilgharrah.”
Merlin nodded, sympathetic to the experience, and began to understand Arthur’s tenderness towards the man.
Rounding the corner into Arthur’s chambers, they were greeted by a pacing Arthur.
“Merlin! Mordred! What happened? Is everything all right?”
Arthur rushed up and took hold of Mordred’s shoulders, assessing him for damage. He looked him in the eye.
“Merlin, stoke the fire. This man is chilled to the bone.”
As Merlin tended the fire, Arthur pulled back the covers and forced Mordred to sit on the bed. He knelt, taking off Mordred’s boots.
He tucked Mordred under the covers, leaving him to talk to Merlin by the fire.
“Merlin, you’ve got some explaining to do.”
“Yes, sire. I know.” Merlin hung his head. A moan sounded and both men looked at the prone form.
Simultaneously, they lurched over. Arthur motioned for Merlin to get in on the other side and they slid in together, sandwiching Mordred between them. When Arthur reached over to grasp Merlin’s hand, he felt deep inside that everything would be ok.
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