Nonfatal Dear - This Line We Walk 5/5
Title: This Line We Walk
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 15,991 words
Characters/Pairings: Arthur, Gaius, Gwen, girl!Merlin, and a host of others, including OCs | Arthur/girl!Merlin, minor Gwen/Lancelot
Summary: Everything has a cost, and Camelot's future is no exception. Merlin has to do whatever it takes to secure Camelot's succession, while also avoiding the mistakes of the past.
Spoilers/Warnings: A few character spoilers for early Series 4 | explicit sexual content
Notes: Prompt Located Here
***
Her hesitance was enough for Eigyr to slip in and she explained it all in Merlin’s stead. Merlin could only watch as the druid woman laid everything out for him, and then she watched his expression, hoping, praying, she would not see rage or disgust on his face.
Please, she thought, pleaded, don’t let me lose him over this…
Much to Merlin’s relief, Arthur didn’t appear angry by the time Eigyr finished. He remained quiet, even when the old woman pushed herself to her feet and moved to leave the cave, her movements surprisingly quiet for someone of her age. Then they were alone.
Merlin slowly sank down onto the ground, her eyes on Arthur, waiting for him to say… something. He didn’t seem inclined to do so just yet, and instead only stepped closer and then slid down the wall and sat next to her.
She could feel the heat coming off of his body, even with the cool links of his chain mail covering him. He wasn’t shying away from her, and didn’t seem revolted by her, much to Merlin’s relief. She thought to say something, but Arthur beat her to it.
“After that night, I’d hoped,” he said, “that you might conceive.”
Her eyes grew huge. “W-what?!” she stuttered. Where had this come from?
Arthur didn’t seem to notice her shock. Instead, he seemed almost… sad? Or sheepish? Merlin wasn’t certain. “I was hoping that it would be our baby.”
“Why?!” Why would he want a baby with her?
Now Arthur did turn to look at her. He had a faint smile on his lips and so many emotions crossing his face that Merlin didn’t know where to begin in terms of deciphering them. “Are you really so blind, Merlin?” he asked her. “Do you really not know?”
“Know what?” Goodness, but she sounded like a simpleton, but really, with all of the shocks she’d had today, it was certainly understandable.
“That I love you.”
Four words. Four simple words, which threw Merlin’s world off its axis. “You… you love me?”
He didn’t blush, or appear embarrassed in anyway. He nodded. “Yes, Merlin. For a long time.”
“Why didn’t you ever say?”
He looked away. “I couldn’t. I’ve nothing to offer you, Merlin. I can’t make you my wife and queen, and making you my mistress would dishonor not just me, but you and Gwen both.”
Now Merlin seemed to recover her wits. “Queen? I’d be terrible at that.” She’d told Eigyr as much when they’d first met, and she meant it.
Arthur laughed. “I won’t argue. You probably would. You have enough problems sitting on the council and not turning the bureaucrats into field mice. You’d have killed them all long ago if you’d actually had to deal with them as a queen.”
Merlin couldn’t help but smile a little, but it didn’t last long and they returned to the matter at hand. “Arthur, everything I’ve ever done has been for you. I didn’t mean for this,” she gave her belly a significant glance, “to be the result of the ritual, I -”
“I know that, Merlin,” he interrupted. “I heard what Eigyr said.” He smirked. “Contrary to what you think, I am not lacking in comprehension.”
“Yes, but what… how will we explain this to Gwen?” she asked. Gwen had so been looking forward to this, and now she’d know that Merlin had - however inadvertently - snatched the opportunity right out from under her. She’d get her child, but without experiencing him growing in her womb. That would be denied her.
“I think she’ll understand, Merlin,” Arthur said, wrapping an arm around her and holding her close.
Merlin hoped so. Leaning her head against his shoulder, she said as much.
They sat in silence for some time, holding onto one another. Merlin honestly didn’t know what lay ahead for them. Kilgharrah had never so much as hinted at something like this happening, but then, the dragon was hardly the most informative of beings. Then there was the fact that Arthur actually felt as she did. She’d lived so long with her own feelings and the belief that he couldn’t and wouldn’t return them that it was overwhelming to know the exact opposite was true. There was that bit about Arthur feeling like he had nothing to offer her and dishonor and whatnot to deal with, but Merlin knew that would come soon enough.
They had the time, after all.
***
Several months later
Winter’s hold on Camelot was as strong as a vice. Snow blanketed practically everything, from the fields to the trees to the thatched roofs of the town. Ice was so prevalent in the courtyard that servants had to chip away at it at least once a day to keep the horses and people from slipping and falling on it. Fortunately, they’d had another good harvest this year, and the stores were overflowing with supplies which would see the kingdom through the rest of the season.
Merlin lay in her bed, resting while she watched the organized chaos going on around her. Servants were coming had going, keeping the fire going strong at all times. Thankfully, they’d already removed the soiled sheets and replaced them with fresh, crisp ones, so Merlin wasn’t required to do anything but relax.
Not that she was relaxing overly much, with people coming and going all the time. It wasn’t just the servants, either. The midwives were required to keep a close watch on her, to ensure she suffered no ill-effects from her recent ordeal. The physician, Bede, was also a frequent visitor, as his skills were also in need. Several of the council visited too, though they were mainly irritants. Thankfully, Gaius’ withering glares were enough to send them scurrying if they became too tiresome. The worst, however, were Gwen and Arthur. It was rare that one of them wasn’t present, sitting with her or standing a close, obsessive watch over the cradle that had been installed by Merlin’s bed.
Though, in all fairness, Merlin couldn’t blame them too much. Even as exhausted as she was, her eyes still kept returning to the cradle as well, where the new Prince of Camelot slept the sleep of the innocent. The past few months had been so full of turmoil and menace that she, Arthur, and Gwen had feared that the little boy might still be lost even after all that was being done to bring him into the world.
It had been impossible to keep Merlin’s pregnancy a secret, and they didn’t try to. While the council had seemed a bit skeptical about the details of the ritual used to ensure the child’s conception, they hadn’t protested. They knew that when all was said and done, there needed to be an heir of Arthur’s blood. They didn’t much care who the mother was at this point.
That wasn’t the worst of it, though. The news spread quickly, and eventually reached Morgana’s ears. Though she no longer resided in the hut in the darkling woods, but had instead taken refuge in the last of Agravaine’s lands, she still kept abreast of everything that had to do with Camelot, keen to take advantage of anything that might oust Arthur and put her in on the throne. Once she heard that Merlin and Arthur had performed the druidic ritual, Morgana had initiated no less than four attacks on Camelot, all of them aimed at Merlin. She’d been determined to end Merlin and the child she was carrying, the child who would bump her down the line of succession.
Thankfully, those attacks had all failed, though the last one had proved so stressful that Merlin had been put on permanent bed rest until the baby was born. Now, though, that was all over. Merlin had successfully delivered the boy, and little Duran was safe in his cradle.
The door opened, bringing Merlin out of her thoughts. Looking across the room, she watched Arthur enter. All of the others present stopped whatever they were doing and bowed or curtseyed to him, but Arthur didn’t even notice. He crossed the room directly and came to sit down in the chair next to Merlin’s bed. “Feeling better?” he asked her.
Merlin nodded. “Tired,” she admitted. It was true. Her eyes were constantly drooping, and she had no desire to move from the warm cocoon of comfort she was in. Sleep became increasingly tempting every passing minute.
“Well, rest then, Merlin,” Arthur said. He had a large collection of papers with him, and he looked set to go through them while he sat with her. “You’ll do no one any good if you strain yourself instead of resting and healing.”
She was too weary to argue with him, and her eyes were already drooping. Before she could succumb to the lure of sleep, however an unhappy whine made her jerk awake gain. Merlin’s gaze instantly went to the cradle. It was deeply carved, but she could still see him waving his arms in indignation.
One of the baby’s nurses appeared, ready to take Duran in hand, but Arthur waved her off. Placing his papers on the bed, Arthur stood and walked around Merlin’s bed to the cradle. Leaning down, he carefully lifted his son up and held him close. Merlin watched them, a wave of tenderness washing over her. She knew that Arthur had been wracked by worry the past several months, anxious over his ability to be a parent.
“I don’t want to be the kind of parent my father was, Merlin,” he told her once. It had taken time, but Arthur was much more open about Uther’s faults, especially his flaws as a father. However much he might have loved Arthur, he did little to show it, and the less said about his relationship with Morgana the better. “What do I know about being a father?” Arthur had asked her several times.
Merlin had shook her head. “Who knows anything about it? You’ll learn, like everyone else.”
He seemed to be starting from the beginning, which pleased Merlin. She had no doubt that both Arthur and Gwen would be exemplary, adoring parents to the little prince. He’d no doubt receive all the love and care Arthur had been denied, and would never know the kind of terror that Morgana had experienced, the fear of being killed for being what he was.
Duran’s fussing became a bit more subdued, but didn’t end. After checking his cloth, Arthur said to her, “He must be hungry.”
Arthur had offered to procure the services of a wet nurse, but Merlin had turned him down firmly. She wasn’t Duran’s mother, but she had carried him in her womb. Surely that made him hers at least a little bit? Even if it didn’t, though, the fact that her breasts were full of milk that could nourish the infant would give Merlin the chance to bond with him. She wouldn’t give that up for all the gold in Camelot.
He carefully placed Duran in her arms and Merlin tugged at the front of her nightgown, freeing one of her breasts. As the baby suckled, she took him in. His features were still indistinct, making it impossible to tell who he would favor in looks, but his darker skin already showed him to be Gwen’s boy, at least on that front. His eyes were still the typical blue of a newborn, and Merlin didn’t know if they would darken like Gwen’s, or lighten into the bright sky blue of Arthur’s. Regardless, he was a beautiful baby.
Leaning down, Merlin pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. No matter what, she thought, I’ll look after you, little one. I promise.
She looked up then, and saw Arthur watching them both, an intense, almost hungry expression on his face. Lips twitching, Merlin nodded toward the empty space beside her. He needed no further invitation and sat down next to her, wrapping his arm around her and letting her lean against him while they watched the nursing child.
Gwen would arrive soon enough, Merlin knew. She was hardly gone for long. Perhaps she would even have Lancelot with her. The knight had just recently returned from his extended tour of the outskirts of the kingdom, and had been quietly glued to Gwen’s side ever since. Merlin didn’t know the details of their relationship, but then, it wasn’t any of her business. She certainly didn’t judge them for it. Not when she and Arthur were the way they were.
Their life was hardly a conventional one. Arthur was still married to Gwen, and would always be married to her, but then, Merlin didn’t care. She loved him regardless, and was content with to be loved in return.
“I love you,” she said suddenly. “I always have.”
Arthur could have made a joke, teased her about the initial animosity they had both exhibited toward each other, but he didn’t. Instead, he turned and kissed the side of her head.
“And I love you.”
***
… Forget not Arthur’s children,
all mighty in their own right.
Forget not Duran,
Who fell at Camlann with his father.
Duran, meant to be king,
The spirits wept for his loss.
Forget not Gwydre,
Who died at Morgana’s vengeful hand.
Gwydre, taller than all men,
His strength defeated all foes but one.
Forget not Llacheu,
Who was Guinevere’s favorite.
Llacheu, gentle of nature,
Was nonetheless not a king.
Forget not Aislynn,
Whose eyes glowed with Merlin’s light.
Aislynn, the child of their love,
Burned Mordred and avenged Camlann.
- only known excerpt from Vita Artorii (The Life of Arthur)
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 15,991 words
Characters/Pairings: Arthur, Gaius, Gwen, girl!Merlin, and a host of others, including OCs | Arthur/girl!Merlin, minor Gwen/Lancelot
Summary: Everything has a cost, and Camelot's future is no exception. Merlin has to do whatever it takes to secure Camelot's succession, while also avoiding the mistakes of the past.
Spoilers/Warnings: A few character spoilers for early Series 4 | explicit sexual content
Notes: Prompt Located Here
***
Her hesitance was enough for Eigyr to slip in and she explained it all in Merlin’s stead. Merlin could only watch as the druid woman laid everything out for him, and then she watched his expression, hoping, praying, she would not see rage or disgust on his face.
Please, she thought, pleaded, don’t let me lose him over this…
Much to Merlin’s relief, Arthur didn’t appear angry by the time Eigyr finished. He remained quiet, even when the old woman pushed herself to her feet and moved to leave the cave, her movements surprisingly quiet for someone of her age. Then they were alone.
Merlin slowly sank down onto the ground, her eyes on Arthur, waiting for him to say… something. He didn’t seem inclined to do so just yet, and instead only stepped closer and then slid down the wall and sat next to her.
She could feel the heat coming off of his body, even with the cool links of his chain mail covering him. He wasn’t shying away from her, and didn’t seem revolted by her, much to Merlin’s relief. She thought to say something, but Arthur beat her to it.
“After that night, I’d hoped,” he said, “that you might conceive.”
Her eyes grew huge. “W-what?!” she stuttered. Where had this come from?
Arthur didn’t seem to notice her shock. Instead, he seemed almost… sad? Or sheepish? Merlin wasn’t certain. “I was hoping that it would be our baby.”
“Why?!” Why would he want a baby with her?
Now Arthur did turn to look at her. He had a faint smile on his lips and so many emotions crossing his face that Merlin didn’t know where to begin in terms of deciphering them. “Are you really so blind, Merlin?” he asked her. “Do you really not know?”
“Know what?” Goodness, but she sounded like a simpleton, but really, with all of the shocks she’d had today, it was certainly understandable.
“That I love you.”
Four words. Four simple words, which threw Merlin’s world off its axis. “You… you love me?”
He didn’t blush, or appear embarrassed in anyway. He nodded. “Yes, Merlin. For a long time.”
“Why didn’t you ever say?”
He looked away. “I couldn’t. I’ve nothing to offer you, Merlin. I can’t make you my wife and queen, and making you my mistress would dishonor not just me, but you and Gwen both.”
Now Merlin seemed to recover her wits. “Queen? I’d be terrible at that.” She’d told Eigyr as much when they’d first met, and she meant it.
Arthur laughed. “I won’t argue. You probably would. You have enough problems sitting on the council and not turning the bureaucrats into field mice. You’d have killed them all long ago if you’d actually had to deal with them as a queen.”
Merlin couldn’t help but smile a little, but it didn’t last long and they returned to the matter at hand. “Arthur, everything I’ve ever done has been for you. I didn’t mean for this,” she gave her belly a significant glance, “to be the result of the ritual, I -”
“I know that, Merlin,” he interrupted. “I heard what Eigyr said.” He smirked. “Contrary to what you think, I am not lacking in comprehension.”
“Yes, but what… how will we explain this to Gwen?” she asked. Gwen had so been looking forward to this, and now she’d know that Merlin had - however inadvertently - snatched the opportunity right out from under her. She’d get her child, but without experiencing him growing in her womb. That would be denied her.
“I think she’ll understand, Merlin,” Arthur said, wrapping an arm around her and holding her close.
Merlin hoped so. Leaning her head against his shoulder, she said as much.
They sat in silence for some time, holding onto one another. Merlin honestly didn’t know what lay ahead for them. Kilgharrah had never so much as hinted at something like this happening, but then, the dragon was hardly the most informative of beings. Then there was the fact that Arthur actually felt as she did. She’d lived so long with her own feelings and the belief that he couldn’t and wouldn’t return them that it was overwhelming to know the exact opposite was true. There was that bit about Arthur feeling like he had nothing to offer her and dishonor and whatnot to deal with, but Merlin knew that would come soon enough.
They had the time, after all.
***
Several months later
Winter’s hold on Camelot was as strong as a vice. Snow blanketed practically everything, from the fields to the trees to the thatched roofs of the town. Ice was so prevalent in the courtyard that servants had to chip away at it at least once a day to keep the horses and people from slipping and falling on it. Fortunately, they’d had another good harvest this year, and the stores were overflowing with supplies which would see the kingdom through the rest of the season.
Merlin lay in her bed, resting while she watched the organized chaos going on around her. Servants were coming had going, keeping the fire going strong at all times. Thankfully, they’d already removed the soiled sheets and replaced them with fresh, crisp ones, so Merlin wasn’t required to do anything but relax.
Not that she was relaxing overly much, with people coming and going all the time. It wasn’t just the servants, either. The midwives were required to keep a close watch on her, to ensure she suffered no ill-effects from her recent ordeal. The physician, Bede, was also a frequent visitor, as his skills were also in need. Several of the council visited too, though they were mainly irritants. Thankfully, Gaius’ withering glares were enough to send them scurrying if they became too tiresome. The worst, however, were Gwen and Arthur. It was rare that one of them wasn’t present, sitting with her or standing a close, obsessive watch over the cradle that had been installed by Merlin’s bed.
Though, in all fairness, Merlin couldn’t blame them too much. Even as exhausted as she was, her eyes still kept returning to the cradle as well, where the new Prince of Camelot slept the sleep of the innocent. The past few months had been so full of turmoil and menace that she, Arthur, and Gwen had feared that the little boy might still be lost even after all that was being done to bring him into the world.
It had been impossible to keep Merlin’s pregnancy a secret, and they didn’t try to. While the council had seemed a bit skeptical about the details of the ritual used to ensure the child’s conception, they hadn’t protested. They knew that when all was said and done, there needed to be an heir of Arthur’s blood. They didn’t much care who the mother was at this point.
That wasn’t the worst of it, though. The news spread quickly, and eventually reached Morgana’s ears. Though she no longer resided in the hut in the darkling woods, but had instead taken refuge in the last of Agravaine’s lands, she still kept abreast of everything that had to do with Camelot, keen to take advantage of anything that might oust Arthur and put her in on the throne. Once she heard that Merlin and Arthur had performed the druidic ritual, Morgana had initiated no less than four attacks on Camelot, all of them aimed at Merlin. She’d been determined to end Merlin and the child she was carrying, the child who would bump her down the line of succession.
Thankfully, those attacks had all failed, though the last one had proved so stressful that Merlin had been put on permanent bed rest until the baby was born. Now, though, that was all over. Merlin had successfully delivered the boy, and little Duran was safe in his cradle.
The door opened, bringing Merlin out of her thoughts. Looking across the room, she watched Arthur enter. All of the others present stopped whatever they were doing and bowed or curtseyed to him, but Arthur didn’t even notice. He crossed the room directly and came to sit down in the chair next to Merlin’s bed. “Feeling better?” he asked her.
Merlin nodded. “Tired,” she admitted. It was true. Her eyes were constantly drooping, and she had no desire to move from the warm cocoon of comfort she was in. Sleep became increasingly tempting every passing minute.
“Well, rest then, Merlin,” Arthur said. He had a large collection of papers with him, and he looked set to go through them while he sat with her. “You’ll do no one any good if you strain yourself instead of resting and healing.”
She was too weary to argue with him, and her eyes were already drooping. Before she could succumb to the lure of sleep, however an unhappy whine made her jerk awake gain. Merlin’s gaze instantly went to the cradle. It was deeply carved, but she could still see him waving his arms in indignation.
One of the baby’s nurses appeared, ready to take Duran in hand, but Arthur waved her off. Placing his papers on the bed, Arthur stood and walked around Merlin’s bed to the cradle. Leaning down, he carefully lifted his son up and held him close. Merlin watched them, a wave of tenderness washing over her. She knew that Arthur had been wracked by worry the past several months, anxious over his ability to be a parent.
“I don’t want to be the kind of parent my father was, Merlin,” he told her once. It had taken time, but Arthur was much more open about Uther’s faults, especially his flaws as a father. However much he might have loved Arthur, he did little to show it, and the less said about his relationship with Morgana the better. “What do I know about being a father?” Arthur had asked her several times.
Merlin had shook her head. “Who knows anything about it? You’ll learn, like everyone else.”
He seemed to be starting from the beginning, which pleased Merlin. She had no doubt that both Arthur and Gwen would be exemplary, adoring parents to the little prince. He’d no doubt receive all the love and care Arthur had been denied, and would never know the kind of terror that Morgana had experienced, the fear of being killed for being what he was.
Duran’s fussing became a bit more subdued, but didn’t end. After checking his cloth, Arthur said to her, “He must be hungry.”
Arthur had offered to procure the services of a wet nurse, but Merlin had turned him down firmly. She wasn’t Duran’s mother, but she had carried him in her womb. Surely that made him hers at least a little bit? Even if it didn’t, though, the fact that her breasts were full of milk that could nourish the infant would give Merlin the chance to bond with him. She wouldn’t give that up for all the gold in Camelot.
He carefully placed Duran in her arms and Merlin tugged at the front of her nightgown, freeing one of her breasts. As the baby suckled, she took him in. His features were still indistinct, making it impossible to tell who he would favor in looks, but his darker skin already showed him to be Gwen’s boy, at least on that front. His eyes were still the typical blue of a newborn, and Merlin didn’t know if they would darken like Gwen’s, or lighten into the bright sky blue of Arthur’s. Regardless, he was a beautiful baby.
Leaning down, Merlin pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. No matter what, she thought, I’ll look after you, little one. I promise.
She looked up then, and saw Arthur watching them both, an intense, almost hungry expression on his face. Lips twitching, Merlin nodded toward the empty space beside her. He needed no further invitation and sat down next to her, wrapping his arm around her and letting her lean against him while they watched the nursing child.
Gwen would arrive soon enough, Merlin knew. She was hardly gone for long. Perhaps she would even have Lancelot with her. The knight had just recently returned from his extended tour of the outskirts of the kingdom, and had been quietly glued to Gwen’s side ever since. Merlin didn’t know the details of their relationship, but then, it wasn’t any of her business. She certainly didn’t judge them for it. Not when she and Arthur were the way they were.
Their life was hardly a conventional one. Arthur was still married to Gwen, and would always be married to her, but then, Merlin didn’t care. She loved him regardless, and was content with to be loved in return.
“I love you,” she said suddenly. “I always have.”
Arthur could have made a joke, teased her about the initial animosity they had both exhibited toward each other, but he didn’t. Instead, he turned and kissed the side of her head.
“And I love you.”
***
… Forget not Arthur’s children,
all mighty in their own right.
Forget not Duran,
Who fell at Camlann with his father.
Duran, meant to be king,
The spirits wept for his loss.
Forget not Gwydre,
Who died at Morgana’s vengeful hand.
Gwydre, taller than all men,
His strength defeated all foes but one.
Forget not Llacheu,
Who was Guinevere’s favorite.
Llacheu, gentle of nature,
Was nonetheless not a king.
Forget not Aislynn,
Whose eyes glowed with Merlin’s light.
Aislynn, the child of their love,
Burned Mordred and avenged Camlann.
- only known excerpt from Vita Artorii (The Life of Arthur)