Fic: Of Dreams & Dragons (2/6?)
Title: Of Dreams & Dragons, or How Merlin Learned To Stop Worrying And Love This Whole Destiny Thing
Fandom: Merlin
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Rating: PG-13 (...or it will be eventually. promise!)
Word Count: 1,985 for this bit
Spoilers: Series 1 and 2.
Summary: Arthur and Merlin are hunting a Questing Beast. Now if only the Dragon would leave Merlin alone...
Beta'd by: ozfroggirl, who's been super-helpful.
Author's Notes:
I'm 100% American. I apologize for the lack of British grammar/any other American follies. Let me know if you catch anything?
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Merlin still missed the picnic dream, but when he again found himself in the hall of the Great Dragon that night, he couldn't help cracking a smile.
"Are things to your satisfaction, young warlock?"
"What? No! What?"
The Dragon sighed. "Do you feel more prepared to face the Dark Force than before?"
"Oh!" Merlin thought about the night before, about the clang of Arthur's sword against his shield of ice, and how Arthur's quick reactions to even the most random attacks made Merlin consider the proper use of battle-magic in ways he never had before.
"Yes. I do feel more prepared."
"Ah-but you are not ready," the Dragon frowned.
"Why not? Why wouldn't I be ready?"
The Dragon remained silent.
"What kind of Dark Force are you talking about, anyway?" Merlin asked. "Are you talking about the Questing Beast?"
"Mmm," the Dragon said, ever-so-helpfully, "things are yet incomplete. And the Time is approaching faster, young warlock."
"The time of the Dark Force?"
"Yesss." Merlin would swear the Dragon actually hissed. Like a gigantic cat. A gigantic cat that ranted about destiny and coins…And this was the kind of hissing that reminded Merlin just how happy he was this had to be a dream, and that there was no longer a dragon actually locked up underneath the castle.
"You have fallen behind in your mission," the Dragon said. "You have not recovered from your past failures; there is yet penance to be paid."
Merlin really hated when the Dragon stopped making sense. What failures? And penance? What more could he do? He had already risked life and limb sharing his secret-even if Arthur had taken the news miraculously well.
"I did as you said!" he cried. "I revealed myself to him! I told Arthur all about my magic!"
"You did not confess all," the Dragon grinned horribly. "Your soul is still clothed."
"You want me to, um, unclothe. For…" Merlin flinched. "For Arthur."
"Is that what you desire, young warlock?"
"I desire my picnic dreams," Merlin muttered.
"Mmm," the Dragon said.
* * *
"Merlin?"
Merlin emerged from his bedroom early the next morning, pulling a jacket across his shoulders (unlike certain royal prats in the kingdom, at least Merlin could dress himself), and wondering if he should ask Gaius about his dream.
On one hand, Gaius would certainly know the meaning of the Dragon's phrase. Gaius always seemed to understand matters that left Merlin lost and indignant and sputtering-matters like Destiny, and coins.
"Merlin?"
On the other hand, Merlin had the oddest suspicion Gaius would listen to his dream, take one squinty look at Merlin, and bust out into laughter that would not stop for a long, long time.
"Merlin!"
Merlin looked up. "Gaius," he said, realizing the man had been standing in front of him since the moment Merlin left his room.
"Merlin, you must remember to keep your wits about you! You cannot afford to be daydreaming like this later today, when the Questing Beast appears."
Merlin grabbed an apple from the pantry, and shrugged. "Arthur says the Beast is probably a rumor. The 'Beast' hasn't destroyed any crops; he's just been spotted lurking in the forest. If it was the Beast, wouldn't it be attacking?"
"If it's not attacking, shouldn't that be all the more reason for worry? You know the Questing Beast is a sign of great change and often turmoil."
That did make perfect sense. But…
"Arthur told me not to worry."
Gaius sighed, steadying himself by holding onto the back of a nearby chair. "Arthur is a good prince, Merlin, but he's also a good friend to you. Perhaps he did not wish you to worry about the Beast."
Merlin frowned.
"I've got to go," Merlin said, and he stormed out.
"Are you off to help Arthur?" Gaius called through the empty doorway.
"Do I do anything else?" Merlin shouted back.
* * *
"Arthur!" Merlin shouted as entered the prince's chambers. "Arthur! Did I or did I not tell you about my ma-"
"Merlin!" Arthur reprimanded, sitting up in bed.
"What?" Merlin asked. He was still angry.
"Merlin, for God's sake, close the door!"
"Oh," Merlin replied, and moved to shut the door to Arthur's room.
"Merlin, what were you thinking-"
"Arthur! What were you thinking, telling me the Questing Beast was 'probably a rumor?' I'm a sorcerer." Merlin noticed Arthur's flinch, and moved on. "I do magic. I don't care whether you approve, or whether you can bear to pronounce the whole word. You need to let me help!"
Arthur shook his head in disbelief. "This is what you came here about? Of course you can help."
Merlin stared at Arthur; the prince seemed to be telling the truth. Merlin blinked.
"First, you can help me get my armor on, then you can help make sure our horses are saddled, and then, then if you return to camp before the rest of the men, you can help by discreetly sparking up our campfire with… that thing you do. You know."
"I can help you beat the Questing Beast," Merlin protested as Arthur rolled out of bed and moved behind his dressing-screen.
"I was a fine swordsman years before your arrival in Camelot, Merlin."
"You'll be an even better one with me. I can make every swing of the sword more powerful, or I can strengthen your armor, or…"
He caught Arthur staring at him.
"I can be helpful!"
"Perhaps you can," Arthur said. "But you rushed in here this morning, Merlin, without so much as closing the door before you started going on about your skills! I cannot let you help me in certain ways unless you promise to be far, far more careful about it. You have to think occasionally, assuming you have a brain."
"I do!" Merlin protested, just as he caught sight of Arthur's teasing grin as Arthur emerged from the screen.
"Let's just start with the armor," Arthur said.
* * *
"Sire…what do you think 'unclothe your soul' would mean?"
"Merlin?"
Merlin tried not to look at Arthur, even as his master's tone pleaded. This was an embarrassing enough question as is…he just could not get the phrase out of his mind.
"Er…I mean, if someone asked you to 'unclothe your soul,' what exactly would they be asking you to do?"
"Merlin, you haven't been reading poetry again, have you?"
Merlin went back to arranging Arthur's chain mail. "Never mind," he muttered.
"No. Let's hear what's bothering you; otherwise you'll be distracted all day today." Arthur knew that if Merlin wanted to use his special abilities, abilities which might just be too valuable to ignore, distraction was a risk they could not avoid.
Merlin pursed his lips, indecisive. Arthur found his gaze drawn to his manservant's expression, and spoke without much thought.
"Come on," Arthur taunted, a smile spreading across his face. His eyes drew upwards, from lips to blue eyes that more often than not these days contained dashes of gold. "What was this about…um…"
"Unclothe-ing," Merlin supplied helpfully. He worried his bottom lip between his teeth.
Arthur really had to stop staring at that lip. "What?"
Merlin did not respond, just looked more and more upset.
"Well, let's have it," Arthur said after a moment. He pressed a finger against the bridge of his nose as Merlin fixed Arthur's belt. "Why were you reading poetry? Were you trying to impress one of the servant girls with a verse or two?"
"No!"
"One of the servant boys?"
"Arthur!" Merlin flushed. "No. No, a…a friend advised me to 'unclothe my soul' to, erm, to Gaius. And I don't know what he wants me to do, exactly."
"Hmm," Arthur mused, staring at the empty fireplace. Merlin lit a small spark in the vent, just for memory's sake. Arthur found himself grinning again, before he realized that he'd never actually stopped grinning since Merlin began assisting with his armor.
"Your friend sounds very odd," he said.
"He's impossible, really." Merlin watched Arthur watching the small spark, and Merlin smiled, too. "Sort-of like a certain prince I know."
Arthur shoved Merlin a bit. "Come on," he said. "The knights will be waiting. And Merlin…it sounds like your friend just wants you to tell Gaius the truth."
* * *
But what truth beyond magic could the Dragon possibly want me to share with Arthur?
Merlin allowed the sun to wash over him as he pondered the thought. The summer sun and breeze felt incredibly nice. Some part of his brain was telling him this scene was all wrong-wasn't there something to do with a Questing Beast, and destiny? But there was always something to do with destiny…
Most of Merlin's brain, however, was telling Merlin to relax, so he did. He turned to Arthur, who was lying in the grass beside him, not quite smiling but looking like he might smile at any minute.
You know what? Merlin thought. It didn't matter what further truth the Dragon wanted Merlin to share. He would figure it out eventually, and why ruin a perfectly good moment?
"You're dreaming, you know," Arthur said, placing a hand on Merlin's shoulder.
"But I'm not in a cave," Merlin pleaded. "No dragons here!"
"Yeah," Arthur rolled his eyes, "the Dragon sends his regards. He said you might prefer this dream…and then he started cackling like an old lady."
Merlin crinkled his nose. "He's very strange." He leaned into Arthur a bit, whispering. "I don't often understand him."
"Turn around," Arthur offered. "He said this would make things clear." Merlin rolled over, reluctant to move.
Lying across from him now was a blanket emblazoned with the Pendragon crest, a basket, two goblets and a cask of wine.
"Well, I believe I'm dreaming now..."
Arthur tugged Merlin back to him, and lifted a hand to run it through Merlin's hair. Arthur's other hand began stroking his shoulder. Merlin shut his eyes.
"Is this okay?" Arthur asked quietly.
"Why-why are you doing this?" Merlin asked.
"Do you mind?"
"No…"
"Then you tell me why," Arthur said. "It's your dream."
"I don't know," Merlin said, his own hand blindly reaching toward the prince. One hand cupped Arthur's cheek. The movement was deliberate, but at the same time it seemed somehow beyond Merlin's control.
"Hmm," Arthur whispered into Merlin's ear, making Merlin shiver. "Maybe it's a secret."
Chapter Three
Fandom: Merlin
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Rating: PG-13 (...or it will be eventually. promise!)
Word Count: 1,985 for this bit
Spoilers: Series 1 and 2.
Summary: Arthur and Merlin are hunting a Questing Beast. Now if only the Dragon would leave Merlin alone...
Beta'd by: ozfroggirl, who's been super-helpful.
Author's Notes:
I'm 100% American. I apologize for the lack of British grammar/any other American follies. Let me know if you catch anything?
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Merlin still missed the picnic dream, but when he again found himself in the hall of the Great Dragon that night, he couldn't help cracking a smile.
"Are things to your satisfaction, young warlock?"
"What? No! What?"
The Dragon sighed. "Do you feel more prepared to face the Dark Force than before?"
"Oh!" Merlin thought about the night before, about the clang of Arthur's sword against his shield of ice, and how Arthur's quick reactions to even the most random attacks made Merlin consider the proper use of battle-magic in ways he never had before.
"Yes. I do feel more prepared."
"Ah-but you are not ready," the Dragon frowned.
"Why not? Why wouldn't I be ready?"
The Dragon remained silent.
"What kind of Dark Force are you talking about, anyway?" Merlin asked. "Are you talking about the Questing Beast?"
"Mmm," the Dragon said, ever-so-helpfully, "things are yet incomplete. And the Time is approaching faster, young warlock."
"The time of the Dark Force?"
"Yesss." Merlin would swear the Dragon actually hissed. Like a gigantic cat. A gigantic cat that ranted about destiny and coins…And this was the kind of hissing that reminded Merlin just how happy he was this had to be a dream, and that there was no longer a dragon actually locked up underneath the castle.
"You have fallen behind in your mission," the Dragon said. "You have not recovered from your past failures; there is yet penance to be paid."
Merlin really hated when the Dragon stopped making sense. What failures? And penance? What more could he do? He had already risked life and limb sharing his secret-even if Arthur had taken the news miraculously well.
"I did as you said!" he cried. "I revealed myself to him! I told Arthur all about my magic!"
"You did not confess all," the Dragon grinned horribly. "Your soul is still clothed."
"You want me to, um, unclothe. For…" Merlin flinched. "For Arthur."
"Is that what you desire, young warlock?"
"I desire my picnic dreams," Merlin muttered.
"Mmm," the Dragon said.
* * *
"Merlin?"
Merlin emerged from his bedroom early the next morning, pulling a jacket across his shoulders (unlike certain royal prats in the kingdom, at least Merlin could dress himself), and wondering if he should ask Gaius about his dream.
On one hand, Gaius would certainly know the meaning of the Dragon's phrase. Gaius always seemed to understand matters that left Merlin lost and indignant and sputtering-matters like Destiny, and coins.
"Merlin?"
On the other hand, Merlin had the oddest suspicion Gaius would listen to his dream, take one squinty look at Merlin, and bust out into laughter that would not stop for a long, long time.
"Merlin!"
Merlin looked up. "Gaius," he said, realizing the man had been standing in front of him since the moment Merlin left his room.
"Merlin, you must remember to keep your wits about you! You cannot afford to be daydreaming like this later today, when the Questing Beast appears."
Merlin grabbed an apple from the pantry, and shrugged. "Arthur says the Beast is probably a rumor. The 'Beast' hasn't destroyed any crops; he's just been spotted lurking in the forest. If it was the Beast, wouldn't it be attacking?"
"If it's not attacking, shouldn't that be all the more reason for worry? You know the Questing Beast is a sign of great change and often turmoil."
That did make perfect sense. But…
"Arthur told me not to worry."
Gaius sighed, steadying himself by holding onto the back of a nearby chair. "Arthur is a good prince, Merlin, but he's also a good friend to you. Perhaps he did not wish you to worry about the Beast."
Merlin frowned.
"I've got to go," Merlin said, and he stormed out.
"Are you off to help Arthur?" Gaius called through the empty doorway.
"Do I do anything else?" Merlin shouted back.
* * *
"Arthur!" Merlin shouted as entered the prince's chambers. "Arthur! Did I or did I not tell you about my ma-"
"Merlin!" Arthur reprimanded, sitting up in bed.
"What?" Merlin asked. He was still angry.
"Merlin, for God's sake, close the door!"
"Oh," Merlin replied, and moved to shut the door to Arthur's room.
"Merlin, what were you thinking-"
"Arthur! What were you thinking, telling me the Questing Beast was 'probably a rumor?' I'm a sorcerer." Merlin noticed Arthur's flinch, and moved on. "I do magic. I don't care whether you approve, or whether you can bear to pronounce the whole word. You need to let me help!"
Arthur shook his head in disbelief. "This is what you came here about? Of course you can help."
Merlin stared at Arthur; the prince seemed to be telling the truth. Merlin blinked.
"First, you can help me get my armor on, then you can help make sure our horses are saddled, and then, then if you return to camp before the rest of the men, you can help by discreetly sparking up our campfire with… that thing you do. You know."
"I can help you beat the Questing Beast," Merlin protested as Arthur rolled out of bed and moved behind his dressing-screen.
"I was a fine swordsman years before your arrival in Camelot, Merlin."
"You'll be an even better one with me. I can make every swing of the sword more powerful, or I can strengthen your armor, or…"
He caught Arthur staring at him.
"I can be helpful!"
"Perhaps you can," Arthur said. "But you rushed in here this morning, Merlin, without so much as closing the door before you started going on about your skills! I cannot let you help me in certain ways unless you promise to be far, far more careful about it. You have to think occasionally, assuming you have a brain."
"I do!" Merlin protested, just as he caught sight of Arthur's teasing grin as Arthur emerged from the screen.
"Let's just start with the armor," Arthur said.
* * *
"Sire…what do you think 'unclothe your soul' would mean?"
"Merlin?"
Merlin tried not to look at Arthur, even as his master's tone pleaded. This was an embarrassing enough question as is…he just could not get the phrase out of his mind.
"Er…I mean, if someone asked you to 'unclothe your soul,' what exactly would they be asking you to do?"
"Merlin, you haven't been reading poetry again, have you?"
Merlin went back to arranging Arthur's chain mail. "Never mind," he muttered.
"No. Let's hear what's bothering you; otherwise you'll be distracted all day today." Arthur knew that if Merlin wanted to use his special abilities, abilities which might just be too valuable to ignore, distraction was a risk they could not avoid.
Merlin pursed his lips, indecisive. Arthur found his gaze drawn to his manservant's expression, and spoke without much thought.
"Come on," Arthur taunted, a smile spreading across his face. His eyes drew upwards, from lips to blue eyes that more often than not these days contained dashes of gold. "What was this about…um…"
"Unclothe-ing," Merlin supplied helpfully. He worried his bottom lip between his teeth.
Arthur really had to stop staring at that lip. "What?"
Merlin did not respond, just looked more and more upset.
"Well, let's have it," Arthur said after a moment. He pressed a finger against the bridge of his nose as Merlin fixed Arthur's belt. "Why were you reading poetry? Were you trying to impress one of the servant girls with a verse or two?"
"No!"
"One of the servant boys?"
"Arthur!" Merlin flushed. "No. No, a…a friend advised me to 'unclothe my soul' to, erm, to Gaius. And I don't know what he wants me to do, exactly."
"Hmm," Arthur mused, staring at the empty fireplace. Merlin lit a small spark in the vent, just for memory's sake. Arthur found himself grinning again, before he realized that he'd never actually stopped grinning since Merlin began assisting with his armor.
"Your friend sounds very odd," he said.
"He's impossible, really." Merlin watched Arthur watching the small spark, and Merlin smiled, too. "Sort-of like a certain prince I know."
Arthur shoved Merlin a bit. "Come on," he said. "The knights will be waiting. And Merlin…it sounds like your friend just wants you to tell Gaius the truth."
* * *
But what truth beyond magic could the Dragon possibly want me to share with Arthur?
Merlin allowed the sun to wash over him as he pondered the thought. The summer sun and breeze felt incredibly nice. Some part of his brain was telling him this scene was all wrong-wasn't there something to do with a Questing Beast, and destiny? But there was always something to do with destiny…
Most of Merlin's brain, however, was telling Merlin to relax, so he did. He turned to Arthur, who was lying in the grass beside him, not quite smiling but looking like he might smile at any minute.
You know what? Merlin thought. It didn't matter what further truth the Dragon wanted Merlin to share. He would figure it out eventually, and why ruin a perfectly good moment?
"You're dreaming, you know," Arthur said, placing a hand on Merlin's shoulder.
"But I'm not in a cave," Merlin pleaded. "No dragons here!"
"Yeah," Arthur rolled his eyes, "the Dragon sends his regards. He said you might prefer this dream…and then he started cackling like an old lady."
Merlin crinkled his nose. "He's very strange." He leaned into Arthur a bit, whispering. "I don't often understand him."
"Turn around," Arthur offered. "He said this would make things clear." Merlin rolled over, reluctant to move.
Lying across from him now was a blanket emblazoned with the Pendragon crest, a basket, two goblets and a cask of wine.
"Well, I believe I'm dreaming now..."
Arthur tugged Merlin back to him, and lifted a hand to run it through Merlin's hair. Arthur's other hand began stroking his shoulder. Merlin shut his eyes.
"Is this okay?" Arthur asked quietly.
"Why-why are you doing this?" Merlin asked.
"Do you mind?"
"No…"
"Then you tell me why," Arthur said. "It's your dream."
"I don't know," Merlin said, his own hand blindly reaching toward the prince. One hand cupped Arthur's cheek. The movement was deliberate, but at the same time it seemed somehow beyond Merlin's control.
"Hmm," Arthur whispered into Merlin's ear, making Merlin shiver. "Maybe it's a secret."
Chapter Three