Howl - 2/2 (Merlin - PG-13)
Title: Howl
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 11,504!
Spoilers/Warnings: The same sort of violence you see on the show! Post-Season 2, spoilers for The Last Dragon Lord.
Author's Notes: Thanks to my beta, mpoetess and halfnorn for not telling me to shut up when I was writing it.
From here...
The initial attempts at getting at any sort of local stories of evil magic curses had only produced more gossip than Merlin had needed to know. Ever. Ealdor was never this bad.
At least, not that Merlin could recall. But it was entirely possible that the women of the village just never told him about any of it. That would explain their odd tendency to go quiet when he had walked past back there, now that he thought about it.
...Nevermind that now.
He'd learned that there was an old cottage just past the treeline where an old woman had lived three summers ago. And that the children had all thought she was an evil, child eating witch. But the rest of the village was of the concensus that she'd just been a bit off in the head and rather fond of cats. So that was a dead end.
And, he was told, there had also been that time that Nan's youngest boy had gotten into the ale and ended up running through the village starkers, shouting that he was the great and powerful Lord Moo. Also less than helpful.
It was nearly evening by the time he'd managed to get anything of use on the subject. He was assisting Cadoc's wife, Letitia, in making a venison stew for the royal guest. Assisting by standing about and looking waifish until she shared a few scraps of the meat with him. It was a tried and true method.
"Well," she said, looking down at the pot of stew like it held the answers to life. "We did have a monk travel through here this past summer. Odd little fellow, if you ask me."
Monks, in Merlin's admittedly limited experience of the few times one or two had passed through Ealdor, seemed to be the more reasonable of the religious men out there. Less prone to odd metaphors about fish and more willing to do a day's hard work to earn a meal. Which he could always respect, even if he hadn't been raised to believe all that like Arthur.
"Odd?" he repeated, trying very hard to rip the tough bit of meat he'd been given in two with his teeth. No such luck as of yet, but he was persistent.
Letitia turned around, digging about for something to add to the stew, no doubt in order to impress the royal visitor. "He told the children bible stories that I'd certainly never heard before."
So, hopefully nothing about fish then.
"There was one," she added, turning back around with a young, green onion in one hand and a dangerous looking knife in the other and began to slowly cut it up into the pot. "About some wicked king and his family being punished by god for their sinful ways. Turned into beasts."
"That's an interesting story," Merlin said dutifully. "Did he mention where he heard it?"
Letitia sliced the last bit of onion with a practiced care to not cut herself on the blade. "I'm sure it must have been the bible somewhere."
Not that she could have read it to confirm that, of course. Latin was a tricky language in that way.
Merlin just nodded, swallowing the chewed bit of meat with more effort than should be required for something that wasn't shoe leather. "Right. I'll just go fetch the prince for dinner, shall I?"
---
By the time night fell that evening, they were once again up on that damned roof. It let them see more of the village and surrounding areas Arthur had insisted, giving Merlin an annoyed look until he hauled himself up there. But that hadn't stopped Merlin from grumbling about bruises on his arse and idiot princes the whole overly drawn-out climb up.
Merlin had the sneaking suspicion that Arthur was only doing this in order to make his life more difficult. Because it was only inevitable that Arthur would leap down, sword drawn to rush off against overwhelming odds while Merlin was stuck trying to make sure he didn't meet his maker in a spectacularly bloody manner. Because Arthur just had to make things difficult, especially now that he knew about Merlin's magic. Well, now that Merlin knew that he know about the magic.
It made sense in Merlin's mind, at least.
Which wasn't fair at all as Arthur was finally granted his wish for Merlin to be silent when the need arose. Unlike any other hunt they'd ever been on. All because Merlin was too busy thinking up scenarios in which Arthur was going to be killed so he could come up with ways to save him. Though they were started to get a bit less plausible as the minutes passed.
Especially the one involving a spoon and peach conspiring to kill the prince.
"Just spit it out," Arthur grumbled, breaking the silence between them first for a change. "It's nearly painful watching you attempt to think."
Ah, there was the prince that he knew and occasionally nearly died to protect.
"I thought you would be more angry about it," Merlin blurted out before he could manage to think about, oh, anything. He really was starting to think he suffered from a grave mental affliction. It was the only possible answer when he did things like this.
Arthur shot him a confused look before shifting in place. If he wasn't certain Arthur would push him off the roof for mentioning it, Merlin would call it nervous. "I was," Arthur said stiffly. "But I've had time to think it over since then."
Which was probably for the best since Merlin was rather fond of his neck and head remaining firmly attached to each other.
"That makes sense," Merlin granted needlessly. He even managed to smother the ridiculously dopey grin that kept threatening to pop up on his face.
"Thank you for your approval," Arthur shot back dryly. "I was so waiting to hear it."
Merlin rolled his eyes in what was rapidly becoming fond amusement. Damn Arthur and his charm! "Ha ha," he said, tugging his jacket more firmly around himself as a gust of wind made it seem colder than before.
Silence fell between them again, but this time it was far more companionable. Like things used to be before everything started crashing down on them. The only noise came from the horses shifting around in their small stable on the other side of the house.
"Could you just--" Arthur wiggled his fingers like a loon as he looked out at the trees rather than at Merlin.
Merlin gave him, then the fingers a confused look for a moment. "...wave at them?" he prompted slowly.
And there was that look that Arthur was so fond of. The one that said 'Merlin, it's a wonder you haven't managed to drown yourself in the bath.' It was a very expressive look.
"Yes, Merlin. Wave at them," Arthur deadpanned. "Magic, you idiot."
"Oh!" Merlin's eyebrows shot up at the actual mention of his abilities. Being said by Arthur. About his magic. All vocalized and--look, this was all just a bit too much for him to handle. Arthur had ages to get used to the idea, so it was hardly fair to expect him to catch up in a day. "I--suppose I could do something," he granted.
"Something." Arthur stared at him again. Though this time it was a look that Merlin couldn't decipher no matter how hard he tried. It made him far too nervous to see for some reason. Like he was missing something and that this was becoming a spectacularly bad habit.
"Something magical?" he tried again, waggling his fingers in an attempt to duplicate what Arthur had done.
He was only saved from the unfortunate hand gestures by the appearance of the creatures along the treeline. How they became a relief was probably best left unexplored.
Arthur went tense as he pulled his sword from its sheath in one slow, silent movement. Presumably the four left from the previous night didn't wait to slink into the paddock again, rushing in quickly to sniff at the pile of ashes and charred bones left from their brethren that day.
But, unlike the one they'd seen during the daytime, these showed no sign of intelligence beyond that of a wolf and certainly no trace of humanity in their eyes. Just simple animal behavior as they paced along the fence line for a moment before starting toward the houses in earnest.
"Stay up here," Arthur ordered, grabbing hold of the edge of the roof for balance as he slipped down to the ground with an enviable grace. No bruised arse there.
"Stay up--" Merlin stopped short of the edge, glaring down at him for running off once again. "Are you crazy?"
Which only seemed to be the key to getting Arthur to shoot him a smoldering mad grin. "Don't be such a girl, Merlin. It's only four of them," he said in that cocky manner that made Merlin want to take back at least half of the times he'd saved Arthur from imminent death. "And I've got a wizard on my side this time."
"That's not--" Damn his weakness for compliments from Arthur. Merlin made a frustrated noise rather than argue with someone's back now that Arthur was focusing on his opponents. Once this was all over, he was tying Arthur to his bed and never letting him leave.
For his own protection. And not the oddly dirty thoughts that statement might invoke. It was an ingenious plan.
In the meantime, Arthur was busy twirling his sword about in a dramatic fashion. Though, Merlin had to admit, in the dim moonlight it did look rather striking. Epic, even.
But that wasn't important now. What was important was ignoring Arthur's orders and getting down on the ground to join the battle. Which was why Merlin was now clinging tightly to the edge of the roof in an attempt to repeat Arthur's graceful leap down. So far, he'd only managed to whimper a bit as the whole letting go part of the plan proved easier said than done.
Behind him, down on the ground, he could hear the sounds of the fight. The startled yelps of the creatures as they met their maker at the end of Arthur's sword. One after the other if the peek Merlin just barely managed was correct. It gave him hope that this might not end with Arthur nearly dying.
Perhaps the curse of Arthur dressing himself was finally beat!
"Merlin," Arthur said in a low, cautious voice that didn't show up unless they were about to die. Look, Merlin could even tell what level of buggered they were by this point. It was a gift and a curse. "Get back on the roof. Now."
"What?" Merlin hissed, taking a deep breath before letting go and tumbling down to the ground. That still hurt, good to know. He needed to put on a few pounds for cushioning or something.
Now that he was no longer in danger of falling and breaking a limb, he could look over at where Arthur was. The four creatures lay dead and unmoving at his feet but the man's attention wasn't on them or even Merlin. No, he was staring at the trees with keen attention.
"What's wro--" Merlin started to ask, following his gaze over thattaway. To the dozens upon dozens of pairs of yellow eyes peering out from the darkness at them.
Curse of Arthur dressing himself still intact then. Good to know.
"Merlin. Roof. Now." Oh, like he'd listen better with the sentence being broken down further.
Merlin managed a nervous little laugh as he sidled along the wall toward Arthur. "I don't think that's going to happen."
The beasts were moving forward, not about to stay in the forest now. Because that would mean Merlin and Arthur weren't at the point where they ought to just grab their ankles and think of Camelot.
Arthur moved quickly to place himself between Merlin and the creatures. Which was terribly noble of him and all, but only made things more difficult for Merlin now. "Move, Merlin," he ordered, slashing at the first beast to attack.
It fell to ground, pawing and biting at the air convulsively as the dirt around it went shiny in the moonlight. Blood, Merlin found, looking distinctly black in the dark of night rather than the shocking red stain in the day.
The others took no notice, circling around Arthur and, consequently, Merlin like a pair of deer to be taken down. As one dropped from a well placed stab between its jaws, another leapt forward to take advantage of Arthur's distraction. It shoved him to the ground, using its massive size to keep him down as it bit into his shoulder.
Rather than think the obvious 'Wow, Arthur's shoulder gets injured quite a lot,' Merlin instead extended his hand with no thought beyond the creature's death. It went flying off Arthur in a rush of power, slamming into the trees with a sickening crunch.
As he lowered his hand, he became aware of all the attention that was suddenly on him. Like the night before, the use of his magic caused all of the wolf-things to stop whatever they'd been doing to stare at him curiously. So, that was more than just a bit unnerving. "Good doggies?" Merlin ventured, waggling his fingers in a wave at them.
They just stared on back at him, completely unmoving. Like statues, really.
"Arthur, are you all right?" Merlin asked, slowly moving toward him. No sudden movements, just in case they decided he looked tasty.
Pulling himself up into a sitting position, Arthur turned and glared. "Tip top," he ground out.
Merlin winced, pulling off his scarf to use as a bandage. "They've stopped, at least."
"Yes," Arthur grumbled, pulling his hand away from his shoulder to confirm that yes there was indeed blood there. "They did. Any idea why?"
Doing the smart thing, Merlin ducked his head down in a vain attempt to avoid notice as he wrapped the scarf around Arthur's shoulder a bit awkwardly. "They, ah, did that last night as well," he said, batting Arthur's hand away as the man seemed intent on getting in the way of the bandaging. His poor scarf wouldn't make it through this fight, it would seem. "When I used magic."
The silence that followed was actually more deafening than Arthur yelling. So, it was no surprise that, when he looked up, Arthur seemed about ready to murder him. "Really, Merlin?" he said through gritted teeth. It was a talent Arthur seemed to have at pronouncing everything with superb precision all while not moving his mouth too much. "You didn't think to share this information before we were attacked?"
"I didn't know that was it for sure!" Merlin insisted frantically. His voice might have gotten that higher pitched girlish quality about it that Arthur was bound to make fun of when they weren't in mortal danger.
Arthur's eyes were wild and a bit crazed at that as he stared at Merlin. "You didn't--you are the absolute worst sorcerer in the history of them--"
Luckily for Merlin, the rant was cut short as whatever spell had been over the creatures seemed to be slowly breaking. The nearest one growled low and menacing as the others slowly started to shake themselves from the daze. Good to know that it only seemed to make them a bit angrier when it was over.
"I think," Merlin said with great care as he fought Arthur for the spot in front and protecting. At least they had their backs to the wall? "We ought to run now."
Arthur grabbed the dropped sword with his good hand, trying and failing to shove Merlin back with the injured one. "Stunning assessment, Merlin. Take you long to think it up?" he asked, slashing at the first to leap at them.
"Not too long," Merlin replied weakly. He had to do something and do it now before they ended up learning about the digestion of wolves in a hands-on way. Going with the first thing that popped into his head, he thrust out his hand, fingers cupped around nothing for the moment. The nothing swirled like a glass ball filled with smoke, flickering like a firefly before bursting into a steady glow.
The sudden stillness, save for Arthur's stabbing another beast, let him know that it seemed to do the trick.
In the sort of experiment that would make Gaius bang his head against a wall proud, he took a step forward, pushing his hand out at the mass of creatures. The closest wolf...man... thing stepped back automatically. Like it couldn't control itself. He looked around again before moving even further away from Arthur and into the crowd. They parted around him like water, closing in again behind as he passed. But their sole focus was on the glow in the palm of his hand.
That gave Merlin an idea. Potentially a horrible idea, but it was an idea nonetheless.
"How is your shoulder?" he called back, turning to look at Arthur.
The man in question was pulling his sword out of one of the unresisting creatures who had fallen in behind Merlin like he was some sort of deranged Pied Piper. "It's fine," Arthur said, giving him a look like he was a mad man, which was par for the course some days, then added a grudging, "Why?"
"I think... I have an idea as to how to get rid of them all."
Since Arthur would probably pass out before he could hope to make a dent on their numbers. Yes, he might have said 'fine,' but 'fine' also meant 'slowly bleeding out from this gaping wound in my side, but don't mind me!' when it came to Arthur. So anything he said on the matter these days was taken with a grain of salt.
"What sort of plan?" Arthur asked, attention fully on him for the moment. It was a bit unnerving, to be honest.
Merlin took another step away, watching as the creatures followed. "I haven't really worked out the details yet," he admitted with sheepish little shrug. "But--I think I can get them away from here."
The look he got in return was another of those unreadable ones that he didn't think had to do with magic. Since he was still damn well giving them to Merlin, even now that everything was out in the open. "Merlin. What are you doing?"
Grinning at him in a way that was hopefully more reassuring than manic, Merlin replied, "Something stupid, I think." And took off running into the woods, hoping the creatures would follow.
---
Which brings us back to the beginning. Er, middle. Well, more like the end, if we want to be honest about it.
Regardless! This is where we resume. With a only half considered plan in progress and luck very quickly running out. Which became obvious when it wasn't the creatures that brought Merlin down after all that brave running away like a mad man. No, what did him in was an upturned tree root. Which, as we all know, is the most insidious of all roots.
Face down in the filthy leaves and other detritus of the forest, Merlin gave a good five seconds of thought to all the choices that lead up to this point in his life. Most of which involved Arthur and something horrific out to kill the man for something his father did. Destiny, it seemed, really had it in for Merlin.
Once that was done and he was certain that somewhere out there, that over-grown lizard was baying with laughter, he hazarded a glance up. He was greeted with the sight of large fangs and the rancid smell of the the nearest creature's breath as it moved in close enough to touch. But before he could be gobbled up like some naughty child in a bed time story, he remembered that he was a damned wizard. It generally worked best when he simply reacted to near death events, like now, as he sent the wolf-thing flying backwards into the others gathered behind it.
The display of magic barely even garnered a reaction from them all this time. A small glance back at their packmate, but it didn't stop the rest from advancing.
Merlin scrambled onto his feet, moving to the side just in time to avoid one of the creatures lunging at the spot he'd just been in. Another didn't miss a second later and Merlin was back on the ground, making some terrified noises that weren't anywhere near actual words. He held his hands up, fingers splayed out as if holding onto something large between him and the beast.
Which turned out to be something of an effective shield that was keeping him in one piece for the time being. Even if he could still see teeth gnashing at him, only stopped by something thin and invisible. "Why does this keep happening?" he asked himself, eyes shut tight as he shoved up to force his canine friend off of him.
As soon as that pressure eased, he sat up with his hands still out to keep any more at bay. This was really not about to end well if he didn't figure out what to do now, because dying was not the most optimal outcome of this plan. Taking a few panicked breaths, he tried to think of something from the book. Anything that might work, really. There were a few spells he never got to practice because they would call way, way too much attention to him. But now, now might be the best chance he could have to test them out.
When his breathing evened out, he closed his eyes and focused on the sounds around him. The low rumbling of growls and the snarls that almost seemed to surround him. Slowly, very slowly those noises were drowned out by a sudden increase in the wind and thunder that picked up just above him. It was almost soothing in comparison. He lowered his hands slowly, leaving them down at his sides as he opened his eyes. Flashes of light streaked down from the sky, illuminating the small clearing and the number of creatures with him there.
That was the last thing Merlin recalled. That and hitting the ground again as the light flashed around him more and more. A note in the book about how draining this spell was might be in order.
---
The first thing Merlin noticed upon coming to was the mind crushing pain that made him contemplate passing out again. It felt like he'd had a little too much wine at a banquet and would be sick all over if he had to move. Moving was low on his list of things to do today.
That was followed by the sudden fear thar he'd been struck blind in the fight. The book said nothing about side effects! Oh god, why did these things happen to him? Was it the inappropriate thoughts about Morgana and Gwen? Or--wait. His eyes were still shut. That made more sense.
"Merlin."
The third thing he noticed was someone calling his name. It sounded far off and muffled like in a dream. Though most of his dreams didn't include having a hangover in them, to be honest. So this was something new.
"Merlin," it came again, much closer now. "Merlin!"
The firm slap that followed did wonders to wake him from the fog in his head. He sat up, quickly regretting that move as the headache only got worse. And now it was coupled with the lovely urge to vomit. "Oh god," he whimpered, clutching his head.
"Took you long enough," the now familiar voice said. "Tell me, were you actually born this stupid or did you have to work to accomplish it?"
Merlin didn't dignify that slur on his good character with a response. Mostly because he was busy being sick on the ground next to him. "Did it work?" he asked hoarsely, wiping his mouth. Eesh.
Arthur seemed to finally take pity on him, pushing a flask of water into his hand. "It worked. Somehow. Due to sheer luck, no doubt," he said imperiously.
Even as some of the pain faded with the pads of Arthur's fingers pressing into Merlin's neck in small, soothing little circles. "Your shoulder?" Merlin asked, shutting his eyes again to keep all that lovely nausea down. A very large note was going next to the spell. Underlined. With arrows pointing to it.
"Is fine." Liar.
Arthur's hand dropped down to Merlin's shoulder now, still with those wonderful little massaging motions. Merlin was almost willing to take back everything about how it was Arthur's fault he got stuck in these situations all the time. Almost, but not quite all the way. Only when Arthur stopped did Merlin open his eyes again and look over at him. "We should get back to the village," he started, trailing off as Arthur gave him another piercing look. "...soon?"
"Shut up," Arthur said, eyes dropping down before leaning in for a surprisingly chaste kiss.
"What--?" Merlin asked, eyes going wide when Arthur pulled away. How the hell did things go from 'I'm angry you have magic and didn't tell me' to 'kissing you now?'
Arthur rolled his eyes, shoving the flask up to Merlin's mouth. "If you expect me to do it properly, you'll need to wash your mouth out first. You reek," he said, standing up to walk away.
The pros and cons of Arthur dressing himself in the mornings just got a bit more confusing.
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 11,504!
Spoilers/Warnings: The same sort of violence you see on the show! Post-Season 2, spoilers for The Last Dragon Lord.
Author's Notes: Thanks to my beta, mpoetess and halfnorn for not telling me to shut up when I was writing it.
From here...
The initial attempts at getting at any sort of local stories of evil magic curses had only produced more gossip than Merlin had needed to know. Ever. Ealdor was never this bad.
At least, not that Merlin could recall. But it was entirely possible that the women of the village just never told him about any of it. That would explain their odd tendency to go quiet when he had walked past back there, now that he thought about it.
...Nevermind that now.
He'd learned that there was an old cottage just past the treeline where an old woman had lived three summers ago. And that the children had all thought she was an evil, child eating witch. But the rest of the village was of the concensus that she'd just been a bit off in the head and rather fond of cats. So that was a dead end.
And, he was told, there had also been that time that Nan's youngest boy had gotten into the ale and ended up running through the village starkers, shouting that he was the great and powerful Lord Moo. Also less than helpful.
It was nearly evening by the time he'd managed to get anything of use on the subject. He was assisting Cadoc's wife, Letitia, in making a venison stew for the royal guest. Assisting by standing about and looking waifish until she shared a few scraps of the meat with him. It was a tried and true method.
"Well," she said, looking down at the pot of stew like it held the answers to life. "We did have a monk travel through here this past summer. Odd little fellow, if you ask me."
Monks, in Merlin's admittedly limited experience of the few times one or two had passed through Ealdor, seemed to be the more reasonable of the religious men out there. Less prone to odd metaphors about fish and more willing to do a day's hard work to earn a meal. Which he could always respect, even if he hadn't been raised to believe all that like Arthur.
"Odd?" he repeated, trying very hard to rip the tough bit of meat he'd been given in two with his teeth. No such luck as of yet, but he was persistent.
Letitia turned around, digging about for something to add to the stew, no doubt in order to impress the royal visitor. "He told the children bible stories that I'd certainly never heard before."
So, hopefully nothing about fish then.
"There was one," she added, turning back around with a young, green onion in one hand and a dangerous looking knife in the other and began to slowly cut it up into the pot. "About some wicked king and his family being punished by god for their sinful ways. Turned into beasts."
"That's an interesting story," Merlin said dutifully. "Did he mention where he heard it?"
Letitia sliced the last bit of onion with a practiced care to not cut herself on the blade. "I'm sure it must have been the bible somewhere."
Not that she could have read it to confirm that, of course. Latin was a tricky language in that way.
Merlin just nodded, swallowing the chewed bit of meat with more effort than should be required for something that wasn't shoe leather. "Right. I'll just go fetch the prince for dinner, shall I?"
---
By the time night fell that evening, they were once again up on that damned roof. It let them see more of the village and surrounding areas Arthur had insisted, giving Merlin an annoyed look until he hauled himself up there. But that hadn't stopped Merlin from grumbling about bruises on his arse and idiot princes the whole overly drawn-out climb up.
Merlin had the sneaking suspicion that Arthur was only doing this in order to make his life more difficult. Because it was only inevitable that Arthur would leap down, sword drawn to rush off against overwhelming odds while Merlin was stuck trying to make sure he didn't meet his maker in a spectacularly bloody manner. Because Arthur just had to make things difficult, especially now that he knew about Merlin's magic. Well, now that Merlin knew that he know about the magic.
It made sense in Merlin's mind, at least.
Which wasn't fair at all as Arthur was finally granted his wish for Merlin to be silent when the need arose. Unlike any other hunt they'd ever been on. All because Merlin was too busy thinking up scenarios in which Arthur was going to be killed so he could come up with ways to save him. Though they were started to get a bit less plausible as the minutes passed.
Especially the one involving a spoon and peach conspiring to kill the prince.
"Just spit it out," Arthur grumbled, breaking the silence between them first for a change. "It's nearly painful watching you attempt to think."
Ah, there was the prince that he knew and occasionally nearly died to protect.
"I thought you would be more angry about it," Merlin blurted out before he could manage to think about, oh, anything. He really was starting to think he suffered from a grave mental affliction. It was the only possible answer when he did things like this.
Arthur shot him a confused look before shifting in place. If he wasn't certain Arthur would push him off the roof for mentioning it, Merlin would call it nervous. "I was," Arthur said stiffly. "But I've had time to think it over since then."
Which was probably for the best since Merlin was rather fond of his neck and head remaining firmly attached to each other.
"That makes sense," Merlin granted needlessly. He even managed to smother the ridiculously dopey grin that kept threatening to pop up on his face.
"Thank you for your approval," Arthur shot back dryly. "I was so waiting to hear it."
Merlin rolled his eyes in what was rapidly becoming fond amusement. Damn Arthur and his charm! "Ha ha," he said, tugging his jacket more firmly around himself as a gust of wind made it seem colder than before.
Silence fell between them again, but this time it was far more companionable. Like things used to be before everything started crashing down on them. The only noise came from the horses shifting around in their small stable on the other side of the house.
"Could you just--" Arthur wiggled his fingers like a loon as he looked out at the trees rather than at Merlin.
Merlin gave him, then the fingers a confused look for a moment. "...wave at them?" he prompted slowly.
And there was that look that Arthur was so fond of. The one that said 'Merlin, it's a wonder you haven't managed to drown yourself in the bath.' It was a very expressive look.
"Yes, Merlin. Wave at them," Arthur deadpanned. "Magic, you idiot."
"Oh!" Merlin's eyebrows shot up at the actual mention of his abilities. Being said by Arthur. About his magic. All vocalized and--look, this was all just a bit too much for him to handle. Arthur had ages to get used to the idea, so it was hardly fair to expect him to catch up in a day. "I--suppose I could do something," he granted.
"Something." Arthur stared at him again. Though this time it was a look that Merlin couldn't decipher no matter how hard he tried. It made him far too nervous to see for some reason. Like he was missing something and that this was becoming a spectacularly bad habit.
"Something magical?" he tried again, waggling his fingers in an attempt to duplicate what Arthur had done.
He was only saved from the unfortunate hand gestures by the appearance of the creatures along the treeline. How they became a relief was probably best left unexplored.
Arthur went tense as he pulled his sword from its sheath in one slow, silent movement. Presumably the four left from the previous night didn't wait to slink into the paddock again, rushing in quickly to sniff at the pile of ashes and charred bones left from their brethren that day.
But, unlike the one they'd seen during the daytime, these showed no sign of intelligence beyond that of a wolf and certainly no trace of humanity in their eyes. Just simple animal behavior as they paced along the fence line for a moment before starting toward the houses in earnest.
"Stay up here," Arthur ordered, grabbing hold of the edge of the roof for balance as he slipped down to the ground with an enviable grace. No bruised arse there.
"Stay up--" Merlin stopped short of the edge, glaring down at him for running off once again. "Are you crazy?"
Which only seemed to be the key to getting Arthur to shoot him a smoldering mad grin. "Don't be such a girl, Merlin. It's only four of them," he said in that cocky manner that made Merlin want to take back at least half of the times he'd saved Arthur from imminent death. "And I've got a wizard on my side this time."
"That's not--" Damn his weakness for compliments from Arthur. Merlin made a frustrated noise rather than argue with someone's back now that Arthur was focusing on his opponents. Once this was all over, he was tying Arthur to his bed and never letting him leave.
For his own protection. And not the oddly dirty thoughts that statement might invoke. It was an ingenious plan.
In the meantime, Arthur was busy twirling his sword about in a dramatic fashion. Though, Merlin had to admit, in the dim moonlight it did look rather striking. Epic, even.
But that wasn't important now. What was important was ignoring Arthur's orders and getting down on the ground to join the battle. Which was why Merlin was now clinging tightly to the edge of the roof in an attempt to repeat Arthur's graceful leap down. So far, he'd only managed to whimper a bit as the whole letting go part of the plan proved easier said than done.
Behind him, down on the ground, he could hear the sounds of the fight. The startled yelps of the creatures as they met their maker at the end of Arthur's sword. One after the other if the peek Merlin just barely managed was correct. It gave him hope that this might not end with Arthur nearly dying.
Perhaps the curse of Arthur dressing himself was finally beat!
"Merlin," Arthur said in a low, cautious voice that didn't show up unless they were about to die. Look, Merlin could even tell what level of buggered they were by this point. It was a gift and a curse. "Get back on the roof. Now."
"What?" Merlin hissed, taking a deep breath before letting go and tumbling down to the ground. That still hurt, good to know. He needed to put on a few pounds for cushioning or something.
Now that he was no longer in danger of falling and breaking a limb, he could look over at where Arthur was. The four creatures lay dead and unmoving at his feet but the man's attention wasn't on them or even Merlin. No, he was staring at the trees with keen attention.
"What's wro--" Merlin started to ask, following his gaze over thattaway. To the dozens upon dozens of pairs of yellow eyes peering out from the darkness at them.
Curse of Arthur dressing himself still intact then. Good to know.
"Merlin. Roof. Now." Oh, like he'd listen better with the sentence being broken down further.
Merlin managed a nervous little laugh as he sidled along the wall toward Arthur. "I don't think that's going to happen."
The beasts were moving forward, not about to stay in the forest now. Because that would mean Merlin and Arthur weren't at the point where they ought to just grab their ankles and think of Camelot.
Arthur moved quickly to place himself between Merlin and the creatures. Which was terribly noble of him and all, but only made things more difficult for Merlin now. "Move, Merlin," he ordered, slashing at the first beast to attack.
It fell to ground, pawing and biting at the air convulsively as the dirt around it went shiny in the moonlight. Blood, Merlin found, looking distinctly black in the dark of night rather than the shocking red stain in the day.
The others took no notice, circling around Arthur and, consequently, Merlin like a pair of deer to be taken down. As one dropped from a well placed stab between its jaws, another leapt forward to take advantage of Arthur's distraction. It shoved him to the ground, using its massive size to keep him down as it bit into his shoulder.
Rather than think the obvious 'Wow, Arthur's shoulder gets injured quite a lot,' Merlin instead extended his hand with no thought beyond the creature's death. It went flying off Arthur in a rush of power, slamming into the trees with a sickening crunch.
As he lowered his hand, he became aware of all the attention that was suddenly on him. Like the night before, the use of his magic caused all of the wolf-things to stop whatever they'd been doing to stare at him curiously. So, that was more than just a bit unnerving. "Good doggies?" Merlin ventured, waggling his fingers in a wave at them.
They just stared on back at him, completely unmoving. Like statues, really.
"Arthur, are you all right?" Merlin asked, slowly moving toward him. No sudden movements, just in case they decided he looked tasty.
Pulling himself up into a sitting position, Arthur turned and glared. "Tip top," he ground out.
Merlin winced, pulling off his scarf to use as a bandage. "They've stopped, at least."
"Yes," Arthur grumbled, pulling his hand away from his shoulder to confirm that yes there was indeed blood there. "They did. Any idea why?"
Doing the smart thing, Merlin ducked his head down in a vain attempt to avoid notice as he wrapped the scarf around Arthur's shoulder a bit awkwardly. "They, ah, did that last night as well," he said, batting Arthur's hand away as the man seemed intent on getting in the way of the bandaging. His poor scarf wouldn't make it through this fight, it would seem. "When I used magic."
The silence that followed was actually more deafening than Arthur yelling. So, it was no surprise that, when he looked up, Arthur seemed about ready to murder him. "Really, Merlin?" he said through gritted teeth. It was a talent Arthur seemed to have at pronouncing everything with superb precision all while not moving his mouth too much. "You didn't think to share this information before we were attacked?"
"I didn't know that was it for sure!" Merlin insisted frantically. His voice might have gotten that higher pitched girlish quality about it that Arthur was bound to make fun of when they weren't in mortal danger.
Arthur's eyes were wild and a bit crazed at that as he stared at Merlin. "You didn't--you are the absolute worst sorcerer in the history of them--"
Luckily for Merlin, the rant was cut short as whatever spell had been over the creatures seemed to be slowly breaking. The nearest one growled low and menacing as the others slowly started to shake themselves from the daze. Good to know that it only seemed to make them a bit angrier when it was over.
"I think," Merlin said with great care as he fought Arthur for the spot in front and protecting. At least they had their backs to the wall? "We ought to run now."
Arthur grabbed the dropped sword with his good hand, trying and failing to shove Merlin back with the injured one. "Stunning assessment, Merlin. Take you long to think it up?" he asked, slashing at the first to leap at them.
"Not too long," Merlin replied weakly. He had to do something and do it now before they ended up learning about the digestion of wolves in a hands-on way. Going with the first thing that popped into his head, he thrust out his hand, fingers cupped around nothing for the moment. The nothing swirled like a glass ball filled with smoke, flickering like a firefly before bursting into a steady glow.
The sudden stillness, save for Arthur's stabbing another beast, let him know that it seemed to do the trick.
In the sort of experiment that would make Gaius bang his head against a wall proud, he took a step forward, pushing his hand out at the mass of creatures. The closest wolf...man... thing stepped back automatically. Like it couldn't control itself. He looked around again before moving even further away from Arthur and into the crowd. They parted around him like water, closing in again behind as he passed. But their sole focus was on the glow in the palm of his hand.
That gave Merlin an idea. Potentially a horrible idea, but it was an idea nonetheless.
"How is your shoulder?" he called back, turning to look at Arthur.
The man in question was pulling his sword out of one of the unresisting creatures who had fallen in behind Merlin like he was some sort of deranged Pied Piper. "It's fine," Arthur said, giving him a look like he was a mad man, which was par for the course some days, then added a grudging, "Why?"
"I think... I have an idea as to how to get rid of them all."
Since Arthur would probably pass out before he could hope to make a dent on their numbers. Yes, he might have said 'fine,' but 'fine' also meant 'slowly bleeding out from this gaping wound in my side, but don't mind me!' when it came to Arthur. So anything he said on the matter these days was taken with a grain of salt.
"What sort of plan?" Arthur asked, attention fully on him for the moment. It was a bit unnerving, to be honest.
Merlin took another step away, watching as the creatures followed. "I haven't really worked out the details yet," he admitted with sheepish little shrug. "But--I think I can get them away from here."
The look he got in return was another of those unreadable ones that he didn't think had to do with magic. Since he was still damn well giving them to Merlin, even now that everything was out in the open. "Merlin. What are you doing?"
Grinning at him in a way that was hopefully more reassuring than manic, Merlin replied, "Something stupid, I think." And took off running into the woods, hoping the creatures would follow.
---
Which brings us back to the beginning. Er, middle. Well, more like the end, if we want to be honest about it.
Regardless! This is where we resume. With a only half considered plan in progress and luck very quickly running out. Which became obvious when it wasn't the creatures that brought Merlin down after all that brave running away like a mad man. No, what did him in was an upturned tree root. Which, as we all know, is the most insidious of all roots.
Face down in the filthy leaves and other detritus of the forest, Merlin gave a good five seconds of thought to all the choices that lead up to this point in his life. Most of which involved Arthur and something horrific out to kill the man for something his father did. Destiny, it seemed, really had it in for Merlin.
Once that was done and he was certain that somewhere out there, that over-grown lizard was baying with laughter, he hazarded a glance up. He was greeted with the sight of large fangs and the rancid smell of the the nearest creature's breath as it moved in close enough to touch. But before he could be gobbled up like some naughty child in a bed time story, he remembered that he was a damned wizard. It generally worked best when he simply reacted to near death events, like now, as he sent the wolf-thing flying backwards into the others gathered behind it.
The display of magic barely even garnered a reaction from them all this time. A small glance back at their packmate, but it didn't stop the rest from advancing.
Merlin scrambled onto his feet, moving to the side just in time to avoid one of the creatures lunging at the spot he'd just been in. Another didn't miss a second later and Merlin was back on the ground, making some terrified noises that weren't anywhere near actual words. He held his hands up, fingers splayed out as if holding onto something large between him and the beast.
Which turned out to be something of an effective shield that was keeping him in one piece for the time being. Even if he could still see teeth gnashing at him, only stopped by something thin and invisible. "Why does this keep happening?" he asked himself, eyes shut tight as he shoved up to force his canine friend off of him.
As soon as that pressure eased, he sat up with his hands still out to keep any more at bay. This was really not about to end well if he didn't figure out what to do now, because dying was not the most optimal outcome of this plan. Taking a few panicked breaths, he tried to think of something from the book. Anything that might work, really. There were a few spells he never got to practice because they would call way, way too much attention to him. But now, now might be the best chance he could have to test them out.
When his breathing evened out, he closed his eyes and focused on the sounds around him. The low rumbling of growls and the snarls that almost seemed to surround him. Slowly, very slowly those noises were drowned out by a sudden increase in the wind and thunder that picked up just above him. It was almost soothing in comparison. He lowered his hands slowly, leaving them down at his sides as he opened his eyes. Flashes of light streaked down from the sky, illuminating the small clearing and the number of creatures with him there.
That was the last thing Merlin recalled. That and hitting the ground again as the light flashed around him more and more. A note in the book about how draining this spell was might be in order.
---
The first thing Merlin noticed upon coming to was the mind crushing pain that made him contemplate passing out again. It felt like he'd had a little too much wine at a banquet and would be sick all over if he had to move. Moving was low on his list of things to do today.
That was followed by the sudden fear thar he'd been struck blind in the fight. The book said nothing about side effects! Oh god, why did these things happen to him? Was it the inappropriate thoughts about Morgana and Gwen? Or--wait. His eyes were still shut. That made more sense.
"Merlin."
The third thing he noticed was someone calling his name. It sounded far off and muffled like in a dream. Though most of his dreams didn't include having a hangover in them, to be honest. So this was something new.
"Merlin," it came again, much closer now. "Merlin!"
The firm slap that followed did wonders to wake him from the fog in his head. He sat up, quickly regretting that move as the headache only got worse. And now it was coupled with the lovely urge to vomit. "Oh god," he whimpered, clutching his head.
"Took you long enough," the now familiar voice said. "Tell me, were you actually born this stupid or did you have to work to accomplish it?"
Merlin didn't dignify that slur on his good character with a response. Mostly because he was busy being sick on the ground next to him. "Did it work?" he asked hoarsely, wiping his mouth. Eesh.
Arthur seemed to finally take pity on him, pushing a flask of water into his hand. "It worked. Somehow. Due to sheer luck, no doubt," he said imperiously.
Even as some of the pain faded with the pads of Arthur's fingers pressing into Merlin's neck in small, soothing little circles. "Your shoulder?" Merlin asked, shutting his eyes again to keep all that lovely nausea down. A very large note was going next to the spell. Underlined. With arrows pointing to it.
"Is fine." Liar.
Arthur's hand dropped down to Merlin's shoulder now, still with those wonderful little massaging motions. Merlin was almost willing to take back everything about how it was Arthur's fault he got stuck in these situations all the time. Almost, but not quite all the way. Only when Arthur stopped did Merlin open his eyes again and look over at him. "We should get back to the village," he started, trailing off as Arthur gave him another piercing look. "...soon?"
"Shut up," Arthur said, eyes dropping down before leaning in for a surprisingly chaste kiss.
"What--?" Merlin asked, eyes going wide when Arthur pulled away. How the hell did things go from 'I'm angry you have magic and didn't tell me' to 'kissing you now?'
Arthur rolled his eyes, shoving the flask up to Merlin's mouth. "If you expect me to do it properly, you'll need to wash your mouth out first. You reek," he said, standing up to walk away.
The pros and cons of Arthur dressing himself in the mornings just got a bit more confusing.