Merlin/Harry Potter: Voldemort's Miss-Understanding (9/10)
Title: Voldemort's Miss-Understanding
Summary
In which Voldemort’s plan goes a bit wrong (again.) and Merlin, along with Gwaine and Arthur, finds herself in a world where everybody is convinced that she has a beard. Huh? (Gwaine/fem!Merlin; Arthur/Gwen).
Disclaimer I own nothing. Unfortunately.
Chapter Nine: In Which Maid Merlin And Her King Come To An Understanding
Merlin had thought a lot about how she would tell Arthur about her magic. It was one of those things that kept her up at night, sometimes, as she imagined the worst and best case scenarios, over and over again.
She hoped that she would tell him willingly, that he would change his views on magic and she would be able to come clean to him. That he would understand and that he wouldn’t hate her or have her burnt at the stake.
Merlin had also considered the possibility of her magic being revealed against her will somehow. Perhaps one of the Druids would let it slip or Morgana would find out and, oh, wouldn’t that be awful?
Out of everything she had ever imagined, though, she had never thought it would happen the way it did.
It was holiday break, Christmas day.
Merlin and Arthur and Gwaine had been relaxing in the living room after everybody had exchanged presents. Merlin hadn’t known about this tradition and neither had Arthur or Gwaine, it seemed, so they had been surprised to receive several gifts from some people: books from Lupin and Hermione (Hermione’s books had Harry’s and Ron’s names on the card, too, but Merlin suspected that they had little to do with choosing them out); Sirius had gotten her some very lovely ribbons for her hair, having apparently noticed all the times she had to fuss with it to get it to stay in place, and gave Gwaine and Arthur several different types of wizarding candy.
Perhaps one of the best gifts was the warm, fluffy sweater from Mrs. Weasley. Hers was green, with a silver M on it. Slytherin colors. She was wearing hers, and Arthur and Gwaine were wearing theirs. The fireplace was roaring softly and Merlin was cuddled into Gwaine’s side.
Ginny, Hermione, Mrs. Weasley, and Tonks were all in the kitchen baking cookies. The smell was wafting in through the open door and Merlin’s mouth watered. The twins were doing god knows what. Occasionally, Merlin would hear a strange noise coming from their room.
Harry, Ron, Lupin, and Sirius were on the floor with Arthur, Merlin, and Gwaine. They had set up some blankets and pillows and Harry tried to teach them all how to play Monopoly. He was trying to explain the idea of buying and mortgaging the houses when it happened.
There was a particularly loud explosion from upstairs and the twins yelled. There was a moment of silence, followed by more yelling and several thumps.
“LOOK OUT!” one of the twins screamed to the group gathered downstairs.
At first, Merlin didn’t understand what all the fuss was about, but when a giant, roaring mass of fire and bright light came bearing down the stairs and into the living room, Merlin understood. When it was headed straight for Arthur, who clearly was not going to move in time, Merlin reacted.
With no time to reach her hand, she sent out a burst of magic, deflecting the ball of whatever it was and sending it careening towards the hall. There was a loud crash and some screaming from the portrait of Sirius’s mother. Sirius’s eyes widened and he ran to see what had happened.
When he came back, he was laughing. “It destroyed her! She’s gone!”
At this point, a large crowd had been attracted: the twins had made it downstairs and were grinning sheepishly at their enraged mother, trying to explain that all they had been doing was practicing making fireworks (“Why would you need to practice making fireworks?” she screeched). Hermione and Ginny looked relieved that nobody had gotten hurt. All Merlin could see, though, was Arthur, who looked shocked to the point of scared.
Slowly, that look was replaced by anger and disbelief. He whispered, “You have magic.”
“I-” Merlin didn’t really know what to say.
“You didn’t use a wand,” Arthur hissed, his face growing dangerously red. “You used your hands and your eyes glowed like the sorcerers back home.”
“Let’s all go into the kitchen and try those cookies!” Tonks said loudly, ushering everybody from the living room and into the kitchen. Arthur, Gwaine, and Merlin were left.
Merlin’s hands were shaking. “Arthur, please-”
“How long?” Arthur’s voice rose. Merlin shook her head, confused, so Arthur asked again, more loudly, “How long have you been practicing magic? Since before you came to Camelot?”
“Yes, but-” Merlin stuttered. “You have to understand-”
“Oh, I understand perfectly,” Arthur seethed. He took a step closer to her. Gwaine went to get between them, but Merlin managed to wave him away. Now, Merlin and Arthur were standing toe to toe. She had to look up to meet his eyes. “You’ve been lying to me for all this time. You betrayed me.”
“I never betrayed you!” Merlin protested vehemently.
A sharp pain blossomed on her cheek and Merlin staggered backwards.
“How dare you say that to my face!” he hissed, unable to disguise the hurt in his voice.
Her hand rose to the place where Arthur had hit her. She couldn’t--
There were no words.
Oh, sure, Arthur would train with her and slap her upside the head and throw things at her, but never had he purposely backhanded her across the face before. It hurt, but not as badly as the knowledge that he was that angry with her.
Before she could think to say anything, Gwaine retaliated with a punch that sent Arthur reeling backwards. He fell onto the pile of pillows still on the floor.
Suddenly, everybody was in the living room, squabbling and talking and Arthur was glaring at her from the floor, his eye slowly swelling, and
Merlin couldn’t breathe-
She ran upstairs and into the room she shared with Ginny and Hermione, slamming the door shut.
Downstairs, everybody continued to bicker. Tonks and Hermione and Ginny disappeared into the kitchen and then, carrying a plate of cookies, went upstairs to no doubt comfort Merlin. Satisfied that Arthur and Gwaine wouldn’t try to kill each other, everybody else left once again, Sirius shooting them one last look.
Neither Gwaine nor Arthur had moved.
“You hit me,” Arthur said finally.
“You hit Merlin,” was Gwaine’s response as Arthur staggered to a stand.
He met Gwaine’s glare. “She’s a sorceress.”
“And?”
Arthur’s jaw clenched. “You knew?”
“Since our first picnic,” Gwaine said simply. Arthur didn’t know what to make of this.
“Who else knows?” Gwaine just shook his head, but didn’t offer up any names. Arthur began to grow more frustrated with him. He warned, “I could have you arrested for consorting with a known sorcerer.”
Gwaine shrugged. “Then do it. We both know the only reason I stayed in Camelot was because of Merlin.”
This was true. Arthur knew that several of his knights were more loyal to Merlin than they were to the kingdom: Gwaine, Lancelot, perhaps even others he wasn’t aware of. This should’ve worried him, but it didn’t. Or it hadn’t. At least, not before he’d learned about Merlin practicing magic, before, when he’d thought that she was the most loyal person he’d ever met.
Only.
She wasn’t any of that.
She never was.
Gwaine knew when the weight of it all hit Arthur. The anger seemed to fade out of him and he dropped onto the couch, shoulders sagging. He put his head in his hand and groaned. Satisfied that Arthur wasn’t going to rush upstairs and try to beat Merlin to death with the poker from the fireplace, he sat down across from Arthur.
They were both silent for a good, long while. Gwaine finally said, speaking calmly, “I hope you know the only reason I’m here and not upstairs comforting Merlin is because I actually think you might need it more right now. I think you’re in shock: you did hit a woman, after all.”
“I hit a sorceress,” Arthur muttered. “Not a woman.”
Gwaine snorted. “I saw Merlin that time on patrol when her clothes were soaked through by that rainstorm. Believe me. She’s definitely a woman.”
“She’s a sorceress!” Arthur yelled.
“It doesn’t matter how many times you say it,” Gwaine said. “It’s never going to change what she is.”
“I can’t believe she’s been practicing magic all this time,” Arthur muttered. He ran a hand through his hair.
“I can’t believe you didn’t see it.” When Arthur looked at him confused, Gwaine added, “She used it around you all the time. To protect you.
You never noticed all those falling branches and disappearing bandits and that fire during our little sword fight all those years ago?”
Arthur felt something inexplicable tighten in his throat. “She did all that?”
Gwaine nodded and watched as Arthur seemed to grapple with this new information. It took over five minutes, but he came to a decision.
“It doesn’t matter. She chose to practice magic in my kingdom. She willingly deceived me,” Arthur said.
“No,” Gwaine argued, “She didn’t willingly do anything. Merlin never had a choice. She was born with magic.”
“That’s not possible.”
“Apparently, it is,” Gwaine said. There was more silence for a little while. Gwaine eventually let out a groan, standing up and stretching. Arthur looked at him confusedly.
“Where are you going?”
“I am going to make sure Merlin is alright,” Gwaine said, “And see if I can try some of those cookies. If you still have questions, I don’t think Merlin’d mind answering.”
Gwaine turned, ready to leave the room, when he stopped. “Oh, and Arthur?”
Arthur looked over at him. Gwaine was deadly serious.
“If you ever put your hands on Merlin again, I will not hesitate to run you through with my sword.”
With that cheerful thought, Gwaine left, leaving Arthur to his thoughts.
And, oh, he thought.
And he thought.
And he thought some more.
Finally, when he felt as though his head was about to explode, he stood up abruptly and went into the kitchen, ignoring everybody’s stares.
“Dinner will be ready in a few minutes,” Mrs Weasley said weakly. Arthur didn’t give any sign that he’d heard her. Instead, he grabbed a bottle of Odgen’s Best Firewhiskey from Sirius’s collection and headed upstairs.
When he got to Merlin’s room, he knocked on the door.
A quiet, “Come in.”
He opened it.
Merlin was surprised to see Arthur. Surprised, happy, and a little bit frightened.
After she had run upstairs about an hour ago, Ginny and Hermione and Tonks had followed her up with a plate of cookies. They were apparently unwilling to let her wallow. They informed her that they were having a girl’s night and tried to force her into some sort of short, pajama-- thing.
Merlin, too shocked to be upset at that moment, had snapped, “There’s not enough fabric on that to warm up a cat!”
“That’s the point,” Tonks had said cheerfully. “Don’t you want to impress Gwaine?”
Hermione had giggled at this.
Well.
It was probably the last sort of behavior Merlin had been expecting- and now of all times?- but she decided it would be pointless to fight it. She let them put the sleepwear on her, and then let them do her hair. They put some gunk in it that, Merlin would admit, made it very soft and shiny. As Hermione painted her nails a soft pink, Ginny got to work covering up her slightly bruised cheek.
Anytime it seemed Merlin was about to start thinking about what had happened only a short while ago, the girls would distract her with cookies or stories or gossip.
This continued until a light knock on the door and Gwaine had poked his head in. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt. Mind if I join you?”
Merlin beamed and nodded. Gwaine had entered the room, shutting the door behind him, and settled on the bed, leaving room for Merlin to join him. As she laid down next to him, she heard him mutter, “You look lovely by the way.”
“I’m almost naked,” was Merlin’s wry reply.
“My point exactly.”
Merlin laughed and, with Gwaine’s arm thrown casually around her waist, and Ginny and Hermione gigglingly trying to paint each other’s nails while Tonks tried on several different hair colors (eventually on settling on a blue as bright as Merlin’s eyes), she almost forgot about Arthur.
Almost.
Until now that he had knocked on the door and walked inside.
Merlin nodded and sat up, signaling the other girls to leave. Ginny and Hermione, toenails still wet, hobbled out of the room as indignantly as she could. Tonks made sure to shoot Arthur a glare as she left.
The door shut and the three were left alone in silence.
Arthur broke it.
“Gwaine said you were born with magic.”
“I was,” Merlin said immediately, her heart beating loudly in her chest.
“That’s not possible,” Arthur said, repeating himself
“So I’ve been told.” Merlin responded, feeling just a tad annoyed with him. It was a nice feeling. A familiar feeling. So different than the unadulterated fear that had been plaguing her a few minutes ago.
“How?” Arthur asked. He walked over to the bed and sat down on it, making himself comfortable. Clearly he anticipated being here for quite a while. Merlin wasn’t sure whether she should take this as a good sign or a bad sign.
“It’s a bit of a long story,” Merlin said slowly. Arthur seemed unconcerned.
“We have time,” he said simply. Than he took a swig from a bottle that Merlin had only noticed he had brought with him. Firewhiskey. Merlin wanted some, actually. Arthur saw her look and offered her the bottle. She took it eagerly and took a drink, enjoying the burn in her throat, a wonderful distraction from the pain in her heart.
“Right,” Merlin said, feeling a bit more brave as she passed the bottle to Gwaine, “Where do I start?”
“The beginning is generally a good idea,” Arthur offered drily.
“I mean-” Merlin struggled to figure out where to start. “You know, by now, that the Old Religion requires balance: old for new, evil for good, and death for life. It’s why your mother died giving birth to you and why it’s impossible bring the dead to life.”
Arthur’s jaw clenched and Merlin realized that bringing up his mother’s death was probably not the best way to begin this discussion, but there was no going back now.
“When your father killed all those sorcerers in the Great Purge- innocent and guilty alike- there was a large upset in the Old Religion. All that life, gone. And all that magic. It had to go somewhere. Everything had to be restored to its proper place somehow.”
“And you’re saying that all rests in you?” Arthur said skeptically.
Merlin nodded. “That’s what they tell me.”
“They?” Arthur asked.
“They. The druids, Alator-”
“Never mind,” Arthur said, shaking his head. He needed to take this one step at a time. He took a deep breath. Why you?”
“Because,” Merlin said, and here her face brightened with something Arthur had never seen before. It was a warm, hopeful look. “It was so that I could protect the greatest king the world will ever know. It was so that one day, I would come to Camelot and meet the Prince of All Prats, and take him, and help him to become the Once and Future King. The King who would restore the Old Religion to it’s former place of glory and bring back the balance that was lost.”
Arthur was silent. “You’re supposed to do all that?”
“It’s my destiny,” Merlin said, as though it was fact. Which it was.
“Gwaine mentioned you’ve used your magic to protect me,” Arthur said. “What did he mean?”
So, Merlin launched into a (slightly abridged) version of all the times she had saved Arthur’s life: against poison and bandits and love charms.
She watched as his expression slowly softened until, finally, it was indescribable.
Merlin smiled at Arthur’s odd look. “Some men were born to plow fields. Others to be brilliant physicians. Yet others to be great kings. I was born to serve you, Arthur. And I have always been proud of that. Believe me.”
“I do believe you,” Arthur said quietly. “I mean, you still have a hell of a lot of explaining to do, but gods help me, I believe you.”
Merlin smiled so widely at him that she thought her jaw was going to break. Next to him, Gwaine laughed softly.
“So,” Merlin hedged, “Does this mean you aren’t going to have me burnt at the stake?”
“Actually,” Arthur said, “I think I’m going to have to do the opposite.”
Merlin blinked and tried to work out what Arthur meant. When she thought she had it, she gasped. “You- You’re going to drown me?”
Even Gwaine had to roll his eyes at Merlin’s slight lapse in judgement.
“Idiot.” Arthur snapped. “I’m promoting you. To Court Sorcerer. Sorceress, I mean. I’m sure you’ll do a fine job.”
“Camelot has a Court Sorcerer?” Merlin asked weakly. Her hands were shaking again, but for an entirely different reason.
“It does now. Haven’t you been paying attention?”
“Ah-?”
“I’m sure some nobles might have a problem with allowing magic back in Camelot again,” Arthur said, his mind spinning as he worked out the logistics, “But once I threaten to take away their holdings, they will throw their full support behind it.”
“Magic back in Camelot,” Merlin muttered, disbelieving.
“This entire trip-- It’s taught me that magic is not evil as my father feared.” Arthur looked at her seriously. “The wizards here are good, kind, people. Even more importantly, you have been my loyal servant for years. If you can possess magic and still be you, then there is no doubt in my mind that magic can be a thing of good.”
Neither of them said anything for a moment. Gwaine watched for a moment before letting out a cough to break the silence.
Merlin and Arthur blushed and looked away. Arthur got up from the bed and grabbed the bottle of alcohol.
“Now, you better come downstairs. Mrs. Weasley told me to get you for dinner hours ago,” Arthur ordered briskly, trying to ignore the tears in his servant’s- Court Sorceress’s?- eyes. She nodded and he turned to leave.
He was halfway out the door when he stopped and turned around.
“Oh. Merlin?”
“Yes, Arthur?” Merlin asked, surprised.
“Thank you.”
Merlin felt as though she was choking on her words as she said, “It was my pleasure, sire.”