Truth and Legend (3/6)
This has been a long time coming. It ended up much longer than intended, and took many an edit to get to even this state. And I'm still not quite satisfied. but that's what you get for writing 44k! Anyway, I'd like you to meet Elaine. She's important.
Title: Truth and Legend
Author:
weepingwillow9
Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin, or this is what would happen
Characters: Arthur, Merlin, Lance, Gwaine, Gwen, Morgana, Elaine (OC), Linet (OC), Gareth (OC), Galahad (OC), Mordred, Gaius
Pairings: Arthur/Merlin/Lance/Gwaine, Morgana/Elaine, Lance/Elaine
Warnings: Sex, battles, attempted suicide, character death
Spoilers: This starts off sometime after Arthur's Coronation (Series Four Episode Three) but minus the events of Series Four Episodes One and Two - so Lancelot is still around. I like to think that the Cailleach became the sacrifice, anyway...
Rating: NC-17
Length: 44198
Summary: When the Lady Elaine arrives at Camelot, she sets off a chain of events that will change the Kingdom forever
Part Two
The next night, Elaine felt as Arthur moved her fingers yet further over the map. She kicked him until he asked Merlin to stay for dinner again. Merlin had secretly brought another plate and spoon in case Arthur asked. It had seemed like a good idea at the time but now Merlin just felt stupid.
“Just because I want your company one night, Merlin, doesn’t mean I’ll want it again.”
“Well, I’m sorry if in doing my job and anticipating your needs I somehow offended you.”
Arthur sat, looked up at Merlin, and smiled. He nearly asked Merlin to sit on his lap, but that would’ve been idiotic. Would’ve served him for bringing that plate though; he could’ve eaten from Arthur’s. Arthur could’ve fed him and… maybe one day. He aborted the train of thought, knowing that way, madness lay.
“It’s alright,” he said, still smiling. Arthur didn’t say things like that often. It was easier than expected.
Merlin sat, without permission, started cutting up the pie for both of them and Arthur really loved him then, insolent still without knowing it.
“What was Midsummer like in Ealdor?” Arthur asked, but only after he’d had his first bite of pie. It was pretty spectacular. But that could’ve been the company. Arthur always thought he enjoyed feasts so much because he could feel Merlin, just there, just out of reach, and it heightened everything.
“It was good. Not as loud as it is here, but, you know. Nice. We had a bit of a bonfire, and then the dancing, of course the music wasn’t very good…”
Arthur smiled, cutting him off.
“And the kissing? Any village girls take your fancy?”
Arthur’s smile tried its very best to turn into a grimace, but he was having none of it. If he could smile his way through dinner with visiting nobles, he could bloody well smile to Merlin and ignore the swelling jealousy of the idea that, if ever he kissed Merlin, he might not be the first.
Merlin was blissfully unaware of this, blushing a little.
“You’ve seen Ealdor, Arthur. Not many people. It was mainly only me and Will our age.”
“Kissed Will then, did you?” And then Arthur wished he could take it back, because Merlin had kissed Will, he turned a particularly bright shade of pink that in any other conversation would have been adorable. Right now, it just set Arthur’s stomach to squirming, roiling tendrils of jealousy. He’d kissed Will, the obstinate prick who, yeah, turned out alright in the end, but still. Will. How did Will get all of this, and he didn’t? And how could he compete with a dead man?
Arthur didn’t say much after that. Merlin tried, but all Arthur did was mutter into his pie.
Surely Merlin couldn’t have mistaken Arthur. Like the very nearly footsie. But Arthur wasn’t talking, was barely looking at Merlin. He couldn’t be disgusted, surely. He’d seemed quite willing, with the feet and everything.
Falling out of love right now would be brilliant, he thought, but Merlin just couldn’t see it happening. Ever.
Arthur had never been jealous before. Not like this. He’d never known it could be so crippling. He barely noticed when Merlin went, because his world was still lurching and spinning and reeling with Will, really?
oOo
Merlin and Arthur were back to barely speaking, but Elaine didn’t notice. She was too filled with the fact that she’d have her son back, and soon, that she hardly noticed anything.
And then it was the evening before Linet and Gareth’s arrival, and the three of them had plans to make.
“So, Elaine, you’ll go to meet them in the forest, but you can’t ride alone.”
“I won’t burden anyone else with the secret, if it can be helped, Arthur.”
“I can’t leave, I’d be noticed.”
“Well, that’s fine, isn’t it Arthur? I’ll go.” Merlin crossed his arms, refused to look Arthur in the eye, and hurt. Arthur hurt back.
“Are you sure? What if something happened?”
Arthur knew Merlin would be alright. He had magic to take care of him. But since he clearly wasn’t trusted, he had to act like he didn’t.
“Elaine is quite capable of protecting herself, and I’m expendable.”
He spat the last out, bitterness rising in the back of his throat.
“No, you’re not!” Arthur shouted, standing and slamming his hands onto the table. Then he stormed out.
“You want to tell me what’s going on?” Elaine asked.
“I all but admitted I kissed Will, from my village. Now he’s disgusted.”
Elaine sighed.
“I can’t fix this today. But I will, Merlin, I promise. It’s jealousy, sweetie, and I’ll prove it to you, but not now.”
She got little sleep, between thinking of Galahad and Merlin and Arthur. Merlin barely slept, either, but it was purely Arthur occupying his thoughts.
oOo
They left in the early morning, because there was no telling when Gareth and Linet might arrive, and leaving them waiting with a child in the forest was not a good idea.
Merlin learnt to tune out Elaine after a while; it was all Arthur, Arthur, Arthur. He didn’t want to hear. She’d just make him believe, however briefly, that Arthur could give him something he couldn’t. Instead, he thought of Gwaine and Lance. Either of them was good enough for him. Both was amazing. Arthur was more than he deserved, and he needed to get that straight in his head.
Soon though, Elaine’s words changed to longing for her child, and that Merlin could listen to. He heard how Galahad would gurgle along with you when you spoke to him, how Elaine had always been told that Galahad looked like his father, which Merlin couldn’t wait for, and how he breathed just loud-softly enough that she could hear him at night and know he was safe, but still sleep soundly.
There was more, too, the happy almost giggles Galahad let out, the way he smelt like lavender, how soft his hair was.
And then Merlin really needed a pee.
“It’s fine, Merlin, I know I’d be the one defending us if anything happened. But hurry, so I don’t fret!”
She shooed him away, so he checked on the horses tied to the tree, walked up through the forest. She couldn’t see, but she could hear perfectly well, and Merlin liked his privacy. He didn’t worry about Elaine. If there were any bandits around, she would be able to hold her own.
He didn’t know that they’d been watched. That as soon as he walked away, a magically silenced hand would clamp over Elaine’s mouth, an arm around her waist, until she was inside the hovel. The door was bolted, and shielded, and Morgana let go of her.
Elaine’s hand flew immediately to the hilt of her sword, but was stopped. She tried the other hand, but that wouldn’t move either. Trapped, as if in manacles, tied to the air.
“Who are you?” the voice asked. Elaine took a while to process it; feminine, foreign, regal. Only one person fitting that description who would want to capture Elaine.
“Hello, Lady Morgana.” Elaine attempted a bow, but all she managed was a tilt of the head, held in place by the stubborn magic.
“I have Seen,” Morgana said, walking steadily closer to Elaine, “your son arrive. If you do not want me to kill him, you will tell me your name.”
There was a hand on Elaine’s chest, a rush of air and a twist of her stomach, and the crack of her head against the wall. Pain rushed down her back, but she couldn’t double over, one hand held over her head, the other where it still itched for her sword. Though she knew metal would do no good against this.
“Elaine,” she said, making her voice clear, holding the shaking at bay, “My name is Lady Elaine of Astolat, and you will release me!”
Morgana just ignored her, laughed. The sound was clouded, and it made Elaine try to shiver away, into the wall, back muscles protesting against the pressure.
“You will make a promise to me. I will find you three days hence, and you will come with me without struggle. You will answer my questions truthfully. You will not reveal my presence. Or I will find your son and I will take him from you, poison him against you. Am I clear?”
Elaine’s features, in Morgana’s dreams so beautiful, twisted up into a sneer.
“I hate you,” she spat, all bravery and defiance and anger. And she did. Anyone who threatened her son was to be despised, and she added to that the cowardly use of magic, binding her still, forcing her lack of resistance. Oh, she hated Morgana.
Morgana’s hands gripped onto her, one closing on her raised wrist, the other on her hip. She leant in, pressed her lips to Elaine’s, hard. When Morgana’s tongue licked out, Elaine gasped, and Morgana pressed in, tangling their tongues together. She ran her fingers through Elaine’s hair, moaning a little when Elaine tipped her head, chasing Morgana’s tongue back into her mouth. And then Morgana pulled back.
“Three days,” she said, and she let her magic take Elaine away from her, back to where she’d been sitting with Merlin.
“Where did you go?” Merlin asked her, “I thought you must have been kidnapped!”
Elaine looked down, unable and unwilling to admit to what had just happened. She was ashamed. Kissing someone as evil as Morgana, someone she hated, it was wrong.
“I needed to stretch my legs, thought you’d be longer,” she lied, hands twisting in her lap as she sat.
It didn’t take long after that for them to hear the sound of hooves. Elaine stood, abrupt, hurrying out into the path.
“Elaine, what is it?”
“Hush, listen, I hear horses.”
“I-”
“Merlin!”
Reluctantly, sure it was a false alarm, Merlin stood, moving over to Elaine. Then, unmistakably, horses trotting.
“Linet?” Elaine called.
“It’s me, my Lady!”
The horses appeared over the crest of the hill, and Merlin breathed a sigh of relief. Elaine ran forwards, towards their sound, beaming; Morgana near forgotten.
“Where is he? Where’s my baby?”
“Here, Elaine,” Gareth told her, passing down the child. He smelt like soap and horses, masking a faint, sweet, baby smell. Galahad was nearly a year old, all dark brown curls and wide blue eyes, plump cheeks and dimpled joints. Elaine cradled him close to her chest, nuzzling into his hair.
“Mummy missed you, sweetie,” she said, cuddling him like she could barely believe he was there. Then she turned him in her grip, so Merlin could see him.
“Galahad, this is Mummy’s friend, Merlin. Say hello, sweetie!” For a while, Merlin wasn’t sure it was Galahad she was addressing.
“You shy? That’s alright, you’re tired, shhhh.”
Then Elaine turned her grin on Merlin.
“Does he look like Lance? Everyone says he has my eyes but the rest is his father.”
Merlin took the time to look then, eyes picking out each feature of the little face. The hair was a shade lighter than Lance’s, and of course the face shape wasn’t the same, but there was something. In the shape of the eyes, the mouth, the peaceful expression he gave Merlin.
Oh, fuck, Lance had a son.
It hadn’t really hit home before that moment. And then Merlin couldn’t help but think; Lance had to be told, because he wouldn’t want to miss this. He’d never shied from responsibility and hard work and, while a baby would be a shock, Merlin was sure another somebody to love with all his heart would be welcome in Lance’s world. And, like Elaine, he wouldn’t want to miss things.
“Yes, he does,” Merlin managed to croak out. Elaine was still cuddling Galahad, and she smiled, warm and pleased. She almost sniffed as she turned back to Merlin, and he worried briefly that she might break from so much emotion.
“Shh, Galahad,” she murmured, “No one’s going to hurt you while Mummy has you.”
oOo
Getting a baby into the castle without anyone seeing was more difficult than they had assumed.
In the lower town it was alright because Linet held Galahad, wrapping her cloak around him. They got through the upper town that way as well, Gareth pushing Linet out of the street whenever he noticed a palace servant or a guard. Merlin helped, too, because he recognised people more easily.
The courtyard was the worst - the only way to get to Elaine’s rooms without a huge detour through the training grounds, where it was even more likely that they would run into one of the knights. Arthur had promised to keep Lance busy and out of their way for as long as possible, but since he didn’t want to seem too obvious, there was not telling how well that was going.
They hung back for a while, watching the courtyard.
“It’s no good,” Linet hissed, “It’s never empty! God, what could possibly require so much dawdling in a bloody courtyard?”
“Language, Linet.” She hit Gareth.
“Look,” Merlin said, “I’ve got an idea, but you won’t like it, Elaine.”
A bit of bartering and a few minutes later, Linet carried a basket full of fabric and small child across the courtyard, arms linked with Elaine.
oOo
Arthur didn’t know what was taking them so long. There was only a certain amount of conversation material for two people whose only overlapping interests were matters of the knights. Standing in the armoury, Arthur began with sword weighting and moved to the benefits of different visors and shapes of eye slits, but inspiration was starting to run dry, and Arthur was clutching at straws.
“Yes, Sire, I do understand why you would favour a heavier pommel, but I myself… actually, my Lord, I have some errands to run, if you wouldn’t mind.”
He started to move away, so Arthur did the only thing he could and snatched at his wrist.
“Actually, Lancelot, there was a reason why I kept you here.”
He didn’t know why he did it. A spur of the moment decision, certainly, but there must have been something building to it. Maybe from the first time he fought Lance and realised how close a match they were. Maybe it stemmed from the way Merlin looked at Lance sometimes, giving Arthur ideas. Maybe it was Gwen’s regard for him, marking Lance out as a man easy to love. Or maybe just his nobility of heart and kindness.
Whatever it was, Arthur gave Lance’s arm a quick tug, stepping in to crowd his space, and kissed him.
It didn’t last long, and then Lance pulled away, looked hard into Arthur’s eyes. What he saw must have satisfied him, because his free hand reached up to curl behind Arthur’s neck, and he kissed him again, slower this time. When Lance pulled away, he sucked at Arthur’s lower lip, the touch too fleeting for Arthur’s liking but wonderful all the same.
“I shouldn’t have done that,” Lance said.
“What? No, it was good!”
Lance shook his head, solemnly.
“I’m… involved with someone else.”
“Elaine?” Arthur frowned, she would have told him if she’d got that far. The thought of Elaine brought a nauseous wave of guilt to him too. He shouldn’t have kissed Lance when she’d made her intentions clear, even though it was sort of for her benefit, keeping Lance out of her way.
“No,” Lance admitted, “Someone else.”
oOo
Linet and Gareth took the lower corridor, going to find Arthur. Merlin knew the castle better, and Elaine’s superior hearing would be the only thing preventing their discovery.
With one hand, Elaine held Galahad, perched on her hip, arm tucked around his waist. With the other, she held Merlin’s hand, letting him pull her through corridors. They stopped before each corner, and Elaine would cock her head and listen, turning slightly as if she were looking around. Then she’d nod, if it was clear, and Merlin would lead them through to the next corner. If it wasn’t, she’d pull Merlin frantically into the wall, and he’d find an alcove or something to hide in.
When Elaine’s hand closed over the familiar metal of her door handle, all she could do was sigh in relief. She all but fell into the room, walking straight over to the bed and sitting on it, cuddling Galahad.
“Oh, Merlin. Thank you.”
Merlin smiled, hovering in the doorway.
“I’ll leave you with your son, shall I?”
“Alright,” Elaine said, recognising the tone of someone not entirely comfortable around children. She listened to him leave, then gathered Galahad close to her.
oOo
Gareth and Linet were still very much not used to the castle. They found the kitchens and the laundry, but not the armoury or the training ground.
Merlin, however, did.
“Arthur, Sire, I’ve finished running those errands now, is there anything I can do to help?”
Arthur glared at him. If he’d just walked faster, been there just a few minutes earlier. Arthur wouldn’t have kissed Lance. Embarrassing himself was only the start, and that was bad enough. Lance would probably tell Merlin and ruin everything. Arthur sent him a pleading look.
Merlin could tell that something was off between Arthur and Lance. But this was Arthur, and Lance for that matter. Neither of their minds was exactly easy to comprehend. Merlin gave up trying, and just looked at the wall between them.
“Arthur? This is the point where you order me around?”
“Well,” he snapped, glaring again though Merlin couldn’t tell why, “I could do with a bath.”
“I’d best go, Sire,” Lance said, hurrying out of the door. Merlin decided to ask him what happened later, if he remembered between tasks set by the ever taxing Arthur.
oOo
They still didn’t talk much, Arthur and Merlin. Whenever Arthur saw Merlin, he nearly bent over double with the combined force of jealousy and guilt. When Merlin saw Arthur, he couldn’t help but wonder if what Arthur saw disgusted him. When he saw the grimace on Arthur’s face, his suspicions were only confirmed.
Elaine was completely impossible, with Galahad clinging to her fingers, walking him around her rooms until they were both dizzy and he needed a nap. Elaine would usually fall asleep with him - she had to keep up appearances, turning up for training, as well as spend as much time as physically possible with her son. That was all exhausting enough, and to make it worse she couldn’t sleep through the night since Galahad woke at least once while the rest of the castle slept.
She barely saw Arthur or Merlin, or anyone really, other than the times she left Galahad with Linet to maintain the semblance of normality with the knights.
And then, two days later, there was a knock on her door.
“Elaine! Come and see!”
It was Arthur, but Elaine had never heard him so excited, so childlike. She hoisted Galahad onto her hip, listening out for anyone in the corridor, then slipped next door.
Arthur’s best hunting dog had been pregnant for months, so it really shouldn’t have come as a surprise when she gave birth to a litter of puppies. But Arthur was beginning to get used to things sneaking up on him, in between his responsibilities, and when his kennel master had sent the message of newborn puppies it had caught him off guard.
Arthur was holding the runt in the palm of his hand, and he passed it to Elaine, to feel the weight and the softness of it. It was asleep, warm from Arthur’s skin. Elaine could practically feel the love pouring off Arthur. She put the puppy down, carefully, sitting Galahad next to it.
“Look after Galahad, would you? Someone has to see this.”
She hadn’t forgotten about Merlin and Arthur and their awkwardness. This was just too good an opportunity to pass up on.
When Elaine dragged him into Arthur’s chambers, a litter of puppies was not what Merlin had been expecting.
And then Arthur looked up at him, eyes wide with happiness, stroking the tiny balls of fluff, and Merlin just melted.
“They’ve just been born,” Arthur said, adjusting Galahad against his thigh, and when did sitting on the floor taking care of child and puppies become so hot? Then again, this was Arthur. Anything he did was hot. “They were so small I just- I had to-”
“They’re cute,” Merlin said, dropping onto the floor next to Arthur, unable to drag his eyes away. Arthur caught Galahad before he poked the eye out of one of the puppies, then turned to Merlin, meeting and mirroring his look of complete adoration. It took Merlin’s breath away.
“It’s Midsummer tomorrow,” Merlin said, and damn, Arthur had forgotten again.
“Yeah,” he said, because that was all he could trust his voice with.
“Will you be at the dance?” Merlin asked, with a newfound courage brought on by Arthur’s happiness. Right then Merlin didn’t think Arthur would mind the question.
Arthur took a while to watch the puppies, to clear his thoughts and his throat of the little lump that was forming there.
“Not officially. But yes, I’ll be there.”
“Oh. Good.”
Merlin couldn’t let himself hope, but then. He found that he was.
oOo
Gwaine was fun. Elaine had known that the first time they’d met. He’d been fun in the second training session, and the third. And most subsequent ones. Today, he was trying to convince her to let him take her out and get her well and truly hammered.
“What? You’d enjoy it!”
“But Gwaine, it’s not exactly the sort of thing that people like me do.”
“People like you? Come on, you’re a match for most of the knights. You don’t have to worry what people will think.”
Elaine laughed. She hadn’t really been thinking about the fact that she was a noble woman, more the blindfold. But now that he mentioned it, that was a consideration too. She had a reputation to uphold.
“Gwaine, I can’t see at the best of times.”
“No, but you can hear, and I’ll see for the pair of us.”
“Gwaine, it’s a no!”
“Alright! Fine!” He held his hands up in the air, in mock surrender, the tilt of his mouth laughing. “If you really want to miss out.”
“I’d love to, Gwaine, but I can’t.”
And then, later, there was a knocking on her door, and a voice that wasn’t Arthur’s or Merlin’s. Linet would just let herself in, and there was nowhere to hide Galahad, who decided that the second knock was the cue to start screaming the castle down.
“Elaine, is everything alright?”
The door opened - it was never locked - and Gwaine stepped in, about to rush over to her. Then he stopped in his tracks.
“Elaine, why do you have a baby?”
“Ah,” she said, bouncing Galahad up and down on her lap, trying to shush him, “That would be a long story.”
“I have time.” Gwaine went to sit next to her on the bed, touching her arm. “Can I?”
“Would you?” Elaine passed her son over, getting up to find an apple and a knife.
Galahad quieted a little as Gwaine swayed him, one finger in his mouth, slowly being gummed into oblivion.
“The story?”
“Oh, well. You know how I knew Lance before I came here? Well, about a year ago, I thought he was going to marry me, though in his defence he’d never promised anything like that.”
She didn’t have to say any more. Gwaine wasn’t stupid, and he could see the father-son resemblance as well as anyone else. Elaine cut the apple.
“So he got you pregnant then left?”
“He didn’t know I was pregnant when he left!”
Gwaine took a slice of apple from Elaine, holding it between Galahad’s lips for him. He recoiled a little from Elaine’s defensiveness.
“Elaine, I would never think Lance would do this on purpose. But, wow. Sir Noble had a secret affair and now has a child.”
“That he doesn’t know about! You can’t tell him!”
Elaine knelt next to him, gripping onto his knee. Gwaine ran a hand through her hair.
“Don’t worry, I can keep a secret.”
“Why does that not reassure me?”
Gwaine laughed, throwing his head back, nearly dislodging Galahad.
“Because you clearly know me too well already. Alright, I’ll keep this one. So long as you let me get you drunk at the Midsummer celebrations tonight.”
Elaine sighed. Linet had promised to take Galahad - she and Gareth would have their own private celebrations some other time - because Elaine had appearances to keep up. So it wouldn’t matter if she were a little inebriated that night.
It was also three days since Morgana had taken her. Elaine suspected that she would use the cover of the crowd to meet her, and supposed that a little extra confidence wouldn’t go amiss.
“Alright. But not completely pissed; just a few at most.”
Gwaine grinned, flicked his hair back with confidence.
“You, my Lady, will be in good hands. The best.”
“And that’s what I’m worried about, Gwaine.”
oOo
The feasting for the nobles was a restrained affair. There was wine, and there was good food, but there was also a code of conduct. Even those who were planning on getting spectacularly drunk later held back. Still, the food was delicious, and almost made up for the speeches after the servants had left for their own celebration.
Merlin wouldn’t have to be putting up with this, he thought, as he listened to Geoffrey’s usual lecture about tradition and the values of the Midsummer celebrations. It was all complete bollocks, of course. To everyone present, Midsummer was just a bit of fun. Yes, it began as a celebration of the warmth and of the harvest to come, but now it was just a chance to dance and drink and kiss and, if lucky, bed someone.
Merlin would be making the most of the drinking part of this opportunity, of course, while Arthur sipped from his goblet and tried to look attentive. From Gwaine’s raised eyebrows, he guessed he wasn’t doing an incredibly good job of it. It was only to be expected, when Arthur had more important things on his mind. Like Merlin, and whether he’d accept the first dance from him, and all that entailed.
The puppies had got him talking to Merlin again, and he had realised that he couldn’t just let Merlin go because he was jealous of Will. Will was dead, and Merlin was smart enough to move on. If Merlin hadn’t done so, Arthur was sure he would have noticed. Merlin had had his mourning, and then things had slowly returned to normal.
And yes, Arthur felt guilty, but nothing had actually happened between him and Lance, so there was no real cause for concern. He just couldn’t let anything petty get in the way of this opportunity.
Oh, and Elaine would probably kill him if he didn’t show or at least tell Merlin what he felt. If he kept telling himself that was why he was doing it, maybe he wouldn’t be so nervous.
He couldn’t admit how afraid he was, because if he admitted he’d let the fear in, and then he would never try. He was frightened that Merlin would laugh in his face or worse; pity him. Arthur wouldn’t be able to stand that, or seeing Merlin again afterwards. Equally, he wouldn’t be able to bear never seeing Merlin again.
Perhaps it was best not to think about that. He drummed his spoon against the edge of the table, as quietly as he could manage, and thought about what it would be like to kiss Merlin. He’d run his fingers through that gorgeous hair, or maybe just hold him close - no, he’d cup his cheek, running his fingers over Merlin’s cheekbones. That was it. And then he’d be gentle, so as not to scare Merlin off, and Merlin would slowly open for him, and it would be amazing.
Arthur let his face glaze over with a smile, until he realised it was his turn for a speech. He recited his words, about the value of love, and how it held Camelot together, without really thinking about their meaning. He’d had time enough for that when he’d written the speech. Instead he thought of Merlin, thought about how Merlin would smile if he heard those words.
Arthur was beginning to lose the ability to wait.
The King’s speech traditionally concluded the official celebrations. Normally he would wait around to wish everyone well, but tonight he had a dance to attend. He slipped out of the back of the hall, pleading illness, took himself up to his room and changed quickly. Some of his plainer clothing, and a blue cloak that brought with it memories of another disguise, a time when he was so arrogant and naïve, seemingly so long ago. That thought led to a reminder of just how long he’d wanted Merlin, and the possibilities that opened up tonight, so he hurried out of the castle.
He’d missed the bonfire being lit, but the minstrels were only just setting up, the singer as yet nowhere in sight. Arthur set to scanning the crowd for Merlin.
oOo
Elaine seemed oddly reserved, Gwaine thought. So he elbowed her.
“Oi, you. Smile.”
Her answering twist of the lips was too weak.
“Worrying about Galahad?” Gwaine asked.
“Yeah, something like that.” Close enough. After all, Morgana could hurt Galahad. It was three days after their meeting, the kiss. It was time to face her.
Gwaine took her by the arm, leading her through the crowd to a busy stall. He flicked a coin at the bartender, who passed him a tankard in turn. Gwaine gave it to Elaine.
“You need to loosen up. Drink this.”
She took a slow sip, then smiled.
“It’s good. Mead?”
“Sweet, like you.”
She laughed then, and Gwaine allowed some of his worry to slip away.
“Go on then, find your girl for the first dance.”
Gwaine allowed himself to be shooed away, Elaine laughing again at the scheming look on his face.
And then there was a pressure on her upper arm, and a quiet voice in her ear.
“Let’s go somewhere a little quieter.”
“Morgana.” She hissed. The kiss hadn’t changed anything about how Elaine regarded her. If anything, it had sharpened and hardened the hatred.
“Follow me.”
“I’ll be missed.”
“I won’t take you for long.”
Morgana led her to the edge of the crowd, away from the bonfire and the attention of Camelot’s people.
“You had questions?” Elaine asked, everything about her tense, on edge. Morgana had seen her lithe, or loose, and she longed to soothe Elaine’s fears away. But she had a part to play.
“What are you doing in Camelot?”
“I have come to win the hand of Lancelot, the father of my son.”
Morgana refused to allow the thought of Elaine with anyone else to hurt her. Or at least she tried to. It was an impulse harder to control even than Morgana’s Sight.
“Why are you blindfolded?” In some of Morgana’s visions, Elaine had seen, and it made no sense.
“There is a curse; that terrible things will happen if ever I set eyes on Camelot. I needed to come to Camelot, so I did not allow myself to set eyes on it.”
Morgana nodded. If Elaine had her sight, she would have noticed the admiration and awe in Morgana’s face. As it was, she just bristled further at the silence.
“What are you to Arthur Pendragon?”
“A friend, I’d like to think. Not a prospective wife, if that’s what you’re thinking. But I believe in him.”
Elaine smiled at that, the expression perhaps a little harsh because of Morgana’s presence, and it was clear that she was telling the truth. She believed that Arthur made a good King, and she believed that he would continue to do so in the future. Morgana didn’t feel jealous, which surprised her. There was just a blinding sense of the rightness of this all. And the wrongness of how fate and her own wishes collided so spectacularly badly.
The music was quiet there, where the forest and the town met, but it floated over to them. They could hear just enough of the rhythm and melody to make out the tune.
“I have one final question,” Morgana said, voice low, like she was trying not to mask the music, or like she was afraid to speak. “Will you dance with me?”
Elaine was taken by surprise, both by the request and by the way Morgana asked. She sounded so soft, so vulnerable and so longing that Elaine reached out before she’d really thought it through. Morgana took her hand, then moved to face her, taking a gentle hold of Elaine’s hip. Elaine’s hand came to rest hesitant on Morgana’s shoulder, and Morgana squeezed her hand.
“Thank you.”
They swayed more than danced, straining a little to hear, the singer’s voice only a distant lilting murmuring. Morgana pulled Elaine closer, bravery buoyed by memories that weren’t hers yet. Her arm wrapped around Elaine’s waist, and Elaine didn’t protest. Though she knew she should. The hatred was fading now, washed away by Morgana’s humanity no matter how she clung to it, and it was leaving space for something else.
When the music drew to a close, it was both too soon and far, far too late. Morgana let go of Elaine reluctantly, fingers lingering on the fabric of her dress, on her belt, just layers above the skin of her hip.
“Go socialise, I’ll see you later.”
And with that, she was gone.
oOo
Merlin watched the fire, the flames dancing with a life force he couldn’t quite muster, locked in his thoughts. It could be Arthur. Time alone would tell, but time wasn’t going fast enough. If it was Arthur, Merlin would have to play it very carefully. He would have to dance better than he ever had, later kiss Arthur as spectacularly as anyone else Arthur could choose, preferably more so.
Equally, he couldn’t get carried away with this fantasy, because it probably wasn’t Arthur at all. Probably whoever it was would have lost confidence and wouldn’t approach him at all.
The first strings of notes were being offered to the flames. Merlin watched the fire rise to meet them, and then he felt, and he turned.
There was something familiar about the blue cloak, but it wasn’t the clothing of someone he knew well, or he’d be able to place it much more easily.
“I hope I did alright with the flowers, Merlin.” The voice was regal, and instantly recognisable, and at once everything clicked into place. Arthur’s desperate need to prove himself, his appalling disguise, kept in the back of the cupboard since then. And Merlin couldn’t quite take it all in, unmoving, rooted to the ground.
Arthur could hardly bear it. Maybe Merlin hadn’t got the flowers. Or maybe this wasn’t what he was expecting - maybe he’d wanted them to be from someone else.
Then Merlin cleared his throat, and Arthur’s heart lodged in his own.
“If the intention was for me to save the first dance for you, Arthur, I suppose you did alright.”
It was all Arthur could do not to grab him and kiss him right then. Instead, he extended a hand.
“Dance with me?”
Merlin’s grinned and Arthur thought for a moment that he’d been knocked senseless again. His heart didn’t seem to want to beat properly, and his chest felt constricted. Maybe it was just the smoke.
Part of Arthur’s mind decided at that point to temporarily disable the inner prat, bite back whatever sarcastic retort he had poised on his tongue. He smiled back to Merlin, holding his hip with one hand and his upper arm with the other. Merlin mirrored the hold, but holding Arthur’s shoulder instead of his arm.
“Finally,” Merlin said. Arthur saw fit to pinch him only lightly.
Arthur wasn’t really a dancer. But he understood rhythms, understood movement, and he could make do. Merlin wasn’t much of a dancer either, too clumsy by far, so there was no one to let down. Arthur held him tight, moved him to the beat of the tambourine, keeping him firmly upright.
Though their technique never really mattered. All there was were their eyes, locked on each other.
“I don’t ever want to move again,” Merlin admitted, a low murmur, under the music so no one else would hear him.
“I don’t think I do, either” Arthur leant in a little closer, as the music died down, “But it’s our duty to dance with as many other people as is humanly possible. Don’t get too drunk, I’ll see you later.”
He stopped, just a hair’s breadth from Merlin’s lips, and for a moment Merlin thought he was going to flout tradition and kiss him then and there. But Arthur drew back, still hidden by the cloak. Merlin was the only one who knew who the fabric hid, and that made his heart soar, just a little.
Then Arthur wandered off to find Elaine, leaving Merlin a little bereft.
He found Gwaine next, then a couple of women he’d never met before, then Lance, just freed from a quick dance with Elaine. Gwen next, then he sat out the next few dances, drinking with Elaine and Gwaine. Elaine became steadily gigglier, dancing more freely each time he saw her. He hoped Gwaine knew what he was doing.
Merlin turned away from them, watching the dancers, and that was when he spotted the blue cloak. There was a respectful distance between Arthur’s body and the one he was holding, the perfect distance. Arthur was probably just trying not to be recognised. And then they turned, and Merlin recognised Lancelot, and he wondered.
Elaine was his next dance, then a kitchen maid. Another drink, and the music changed tone. It was a signal to the crowd, the discords disguised by the excitement, to find your first partner again. Merlin scanned the crowd, seeing nothing, and then he turned.
“Hello.”
“Arthur!”
Merlin wanted to launch himself into Arthur’s arms, but found he couldn’t. It was all too new, too unknown. Instead, he took a very small step closer, swinging his arms, and waiting.
Elaine didn’t hear the footsteps. There was a hand, turning her, and then there was the pressure of fingers on her hips. She recognised the smell, of earth and herbs and something bitter and harsh.
“Morgana?”
“Hush, there are traditions to uphold.”
The music changed again, softer, quieter, and there was a hush from the crowd.
Arthur leant in, bringing a hand round to hold the back of Merlin’s neck, pulling him in for a kiss. Their lips came together, and then Merlin tugged on Arthur’s hips and their bodies pressed close. Merlin gasped, and Arthur took that as an invitation to lick in. Their tongues met, and neither of them could get enough, hands scrabbling at fabric, through hair. Arthur rolled his hips, and they both moaned, then pulled quickly away. It was too much for here. But they were under no obligation to remain in public. Merlin’s pupils were blown wide, and Arthur couldn’t resist. He took Merlin’s hand and tugged.
Elaine waited, though there was just stillness. She couldn’t see the looks fleeting across Morgana’s conflicted face, which was probably just as well. And then there were lips on hers, and arms coming to wrap around her, to hold her like they’d never let her go.
And maybe because she’d been drinking more than usual, or maybe just because she felt comfortable with Morgana’s scent, trusted her despite the facts, began to love her when vulnerable and open; Elaine kissed back. Morgana moaned then, teasing tiny bites over her lower lip and sucking there, her hands in Elaine’s hair. When she finally pulled back, her fingers lingered over Elaine’s skin, squeezing her hand just once before she left. No promises of again, no reassurances that it meant anything at all. Elaine was left breathless, without the slightest idea where she was, or what was going on.
There was a cheer from the crowd, a relieved, overjoyed sort of a sound. A girl stood at the edge of the gathering, facing the forest, a little bit lost. Two figures, one cloaked in night-stained forget-me-not blue, the other with a ridiculous scrap of cloth tied around his throat, hurried away into the night, towards the castle.
oOo
“Elaine? Let’s get you back to your rooms.”
“Gwaine! Thank you for finding me. For tonight, too.”
He shrugged, took her hand, led her up to the castle.
oOo
They headed for Arthur’s rooms, because they had thick walls, but mostly because of the big, comfortable bed. Arthur locked the door behind them, turning, only to find himself crowded against the door by an insistent Merlin. It was a little unexpected, but certainly not unappreciated. Arthur leant in, pressed his lips to Merlin’s, and kissed him, opening immediately for Merlin’s tongue.
The next time Arthur found himself capable of coherent thought, neither of them was wearing anything, and he was pulling Merlin over to the bed.
“I’ve never-” Arthur thought to say, “I wouldn’t take advantage.”
Merlin nodded, kissing him quickly again.
“We won’t start full on, then.” And then he pushed Arthur onto the bed, moving to kneel between his knees.
They’d already mapped out each other’s bodies. Arthur knew without clearly remembering that he’d sucked that bruise onto Merlin’s collarbone, and he’d traced each of those ribs, pressing down into the skin. Arthur wouldn’t be able to remember details of this, either, except for thoughts of good and more. He’d remember the next times, though, when he wasn’t quite so needy or so delirious with happiness. And he’d remember the vague impressions, the exhilaration of being allowed to touch, the rush of joy and lust as he discovered something new about Merlin, some new sound that Arthur alone could draw out of him.
Merlin kissed along Arthur’s inner thigh, up, towards his groin, and Arthur lost the ability to hold himself upright any longer, lying, back flat on the bed. His head tipped back when Merlin reached his cock, arching, a desperate whine that he’d be ashamed of if he’d actually recognised that it was from him. He came embarrassingly quickly, but then so did Merlin, when he crawled over Arthur and Arthur let him rut into his hands.
They woke up in the morning light, tangled together. Arthur wasn’t needed for a few hours yet, so Merlin kissed him. Kissed his shoulder, where his head rested, kissed his neck, his jaw, his lips. Arthur just sat up and pulled the curtains on the bed, snuggling back into Merlin.
oOo
When Elaine woke, it was to happy sounds next door, a softly crying child, and a splitting headache. And a vague sense of guilt.
It was only after she had wrapped a new cloth nappy around Galahad and fed him that she remembered why. And she cursed her appalling, alcohol fuelled judgement. No matter how beautiful and soft the voice, how tragic and alone she seemed, kissing an enemy of Camelot was a very bad idea. Even if she didn’t care for herself, which she did, she had to do right by Galahad. Earning Arthur’s hatred was not the way to go about doing that.
She’d helped him win Merlin by the sounds of things, though. Thick walls could only block out so much after all. She smiled to herself, and fed Galahad another piece of pear.
oOo
“Did you put him up to it?”
Elaine smiled, and pulled Merlin into a hug.
“It wasn’t my idea, no, but I may have pushed him in the right direction.”
Merlin squeezed her, tight, and she let out a little airless whimper.
“Thank you. It’s- thank you.”
“Merlin- can’t breathe-”
He stepped away, quickly, and Elaine caught her breath. She brought a hand up, to cup Merlin’s cheek.
“You sound happy.”
“I am. Really, really happy.”
“Well, off you go then. The sooner you finish your work, the sooner you can be with him.”
Then she leant in, kissed his cheek, and listened to him all but bound away. At least the events of last night had made some people happy. Elaine was just confused.
“Gwaine… What would you do if there was someone you thought you really liked… I mean, you barely knew them, but you liked them and you wanted them to kiss you again, but they’re really not good for you, and being with them would only get you in trouble… what would you do?”
“I’d fuck them and keep it secret.”
Elaine laughed, bitterly.
“Yeah, you would, wouldn’t you.”
Arthur only paused his nauseatingly happy sword swinging for a moment.
“I don’t know. Are you talking about Lance?”
“Just hypothetically.”
“Depends on how serious the trouble was. If it wasn’t too bad, I’d still go for them. If not… I’d train and try to forget. But it doesn’t really matter, does it? If it’s hypothetical.”
“Hand me a sword, would you, Arthur?”
They sparred for hours. Arthur had seemingly limitless supplies of energy, even though he clearly hadn’t slept very well, and Elaine had a point to try to prove to herself.
When she finally collapsed into a heap on the floor, Arthur had to loop her arm over his shoulder to get her upright again.
“You alright? Need Gaius?”
She smiled, weakly.
“It’s alright, thanks, Arthur. I just need bed.”
He all but carried her up the stairs and along the corridor, unlocking and opening the door to her rooms for her. He unbuckled her cuirass, and guided her to the bed. Then, quiet, he picked up a sleeping Galahad, tucked him into his mother’s arms.
“Come to dinner,” he murmured, “I want to make sure you’re alright. My chambers.”
She nodded, sleepily. Arthur was content to leave her, but only because she needed the rest and Linet was in the next room.
Lying in the semi-dark, as Arthur left, she could only think of Morgana, and how on earth she was going to get to see her again. Elaine groaned, and turned her head into the pillow.
oOo
By evening, Arthur was the pacing side of worried. He decided to look for Merlin.
Gaius’ chambers were the first port of call, he must have finished all the work that Arthur had sent by now. He opened the door without knocking; well, Merlin never knocked on his door, it was only fair.
He was rewarded with a full on view of Merlin’s arse, the rest of him buried in Gaius’ leech tank. Arthur watched for what must have been a full ten minutes before clearing his throat. He was getting far too turned on by what essentially boiled down to his servant cleaning out a slimy, dirty glass case. Where horrible blood sucking things that made Arthur’s skin crawl used to be.
“Merlin, what are you doing?”
Merlin twisted in the tank, failed to catch sight of Arthur, so wriggled out and turned. His face lit up in a grin when his eyes landed on Arthur.
“What does it look like, Arthur?”
“Messy.”
Merlin laughed.
“I’m cleaning the leech tank. My punishment for worrying Gaius and not coming home last night.”
“He may have to get used to that… or have a very clean leech tank.”
Merlin blushed, and his smile widened.
“Oh really?”
“Yeah. Listen, I need you to get dinner for three tonight. And fruit.”
Merlin frowned. Arthur’s mouth hardened into a line.
“I’m worried about Elaine.”
oOo
By the time Arthur had Elaine and Galahad in his rooms, she was worse, if anything. Distracted, bumping into things. The only thing that could hold her attention was Galahad, when he squirmed and squirmed and demanded wordlessly to be walked around the room. Elaine set him down, took his little hands, bending over double, and shuffled around the floor.
“Where are you taking me, Galahad? Oh no, not that way, the table’s too low for Mummy.”
Arthur smiled, then promptly jumped out of his seat and launched himself across the room, not in enough time to stop Elaine’s head hitting the corner of the chest of drawers.
“Are you alright?”
“Oh, I’ll be fine.” And there it was again, that distraction, the lack of Elaine’s presence in the room.
Arthur was watching her be led around the room again, clearly not having learnt her lesson, when Merlin walked in. Elaine carefully turned Galahad to face him, extricating a finger from his tight hold.
“Wave to Merlin, sweetie. Come on, I know you can do it! You waved to Linet earlier!”
Galahad looked up at his mother, a look as scathing as any Arthur could give. Merlin burst into laughter, not helped by the look of confusion Galahad gave him.
“Aren’t you precocious?” he said, putting down his tray and kneeling to Galahad, who of course chose that moment to start waving, clenching and unclenching his fist.
“Is he doing it? I can’t see!”
“He’s waving, Elaine.”
“Oh, good boy, Galahad!” She swept him up in her arms, walking over to sit at the table, misjudging the distance and flailing for the chair. Arthur and Merlin looked at each other. Elaine losing her perception of where she was was like the sun rising in the west - unheard of. Something must be seriously wrong.
Merlin brought the food over, sat down, and dished out. Elaine busied herself cutting grapes in half for Galahad.
“So, Elaine, how was your Midsummer?”
“Not that interesting, you saw me for most of it. I’m more interested in yours. Go on, tell me I was right!” She grinned at them both, and Arthur couldn’t resist knocking his foot against Merlin’s.
“I wouldn’t call it right…”
“Oh, what would you call an instance when I come to the correct conclusion?”
“Maybe, a fortuitous coincidence.”
Merlin laughed, and kicked Arthur.
“Arthur! She was right! And aren’t you glad? Thank Elaine for forcing us into being happy.”
He stared right into Arthur’s eyes, until Arthur had to break away from the strenght of the glare.
“Thank you, Elaine, for making my life hell for a few weeks. It meant I got saddled with this one, and for that I am eternally grateful.”
Merlin scoffed, and pouted. Arthur leant in and kissed him. When Merlin turned away, it was with a smile on his face.
And then Merlin had to explain how romantic Arthur had been, because it was clear Elaine didn’t know the story, and he needed someone to be astonished with. Elaine was suitably astonished.
“So, who did you dance with?”
“Oh, only friends, really.”
“Anyone special?”
“Well, I danced with Lance.”
Arthur narrowed his eyes, interrupting Merlin’s interrogation. There was something not at all right with her voice when she mentioned Lance.
“Is he who this is all about?”
“No, of course not!” She sounded horrified at the thought, which was odd, but Arthur believed her and he nodded, “Anyway, what’s ‘all this’?”
Merlin shook his head.
“You’re thinking about something, Elaine. All the time. We’re worried.”
“Oh, it’s nothing.”
But they all knew it wasn’t. Elaine wished she could convince herself it was.
When she left to put Galahad to bed, Arthur was even more worried than he had been before.
Part Four
Title: Truth and Legend
Author:
weepingwillow9
Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin, or this is what would happen
Characters: Arthur, Merlin, Lance, Gwaine, Gwen, Morgana, Elaine (OC), Linet (OC), Gareth (OC), Galahad (OC), Mordred, Gaius
Pairings: Arthur/Merlin/Lance/Gwaine, Morgana/Elaine, Lance/Elaine
Warnings: Sex, battles, attempted suicide, character death
Spoilers: This starts off sometime after Arthur's Coronation (Series Four Episode Three) but minus the events of Series Four Episodes One and Two - so Lancelot is still around. I like to think that the Cailleach became the sacrifice, anyway...
Rating: NC-17
Length: 44198
Summary: When the Lady Elaine arrives at Camelot, she sets off a chain of events that will change the Kingdom forever
Part Two
The next night, Elaine felt as Arthur moved her fingers yet further over the map. She kicked him until he asked Merlin to stay for dinner again. Merlin had secretly brought another plate and spoon in case Arthur asked. It had seemed like a good idea at the time but now Merlin just felt stupid.
“Just because I want your company one night, Merlin, doesn’t mean I’ll want it again.”
“Well, I’m sorry if in doing my job and anticipating your needs I somehow offended you.”
Arthur sat, looked up at Merlin, and smiled. He nearly asked Merlin to sit on his lap, but that would’ve been idiotic. Would’ve served him for bringing that plate though; he could’ve eaten from Arthur’s. Arthur could’ve fed him and… maybe one day. He aborted the train of thought, knowing that way, madness lay.
“It’s alright,” he said, still smiling. Arthur didn’t say things like that often. It was easier than expected.
Merlin sat, without permission, started cutting up the pie for both of them and Arthur really loved him then, insolent still without knowing it.
“What was Midsummer like in Ealdor?” Arthur asked, but only after he’d had his first bite of pie. It was pretty spectacular. But that could’ve been the company. Arthur always thought he enjoyed feasts so much because he could feel Merlin, just there, just out of reach, and it heightened everything.
“It was good. Not as loud as it is here, but, you know. Nice. We had a bit of a bonfire, and then the dancing, of course the music wasn’t very good…”
Arthur smiled, cutting him off.
“And the kissing? Any village girls take your fancy?”
Arthur’s smile tried its very best to turn into a grimace, but he was having none of it. If he could smile his way through dinner with visiting nobles, he could bloody well smile to Merlin and ignore the swelling jealousy of the idea that, if ever he kissed Merlin, he might not be the first.
Merlin was blissfully unaware of this, blushing a little.
“You’ve seen Ealdor, Arthur. Not many people. It was mainly only me and Will our age.”
“Kissed Will then, did you?” And then Arthur wished he could take it back, because Merlin had kissed Will, he turned a particularly bright shade of pink that in any other conversation would have been adorable. Right now, it just set Arthur’s stomach to squirming, roiling tendrils of jealousy. He’d kissed Will, the obstinate prick who, yeah, turned out alright in the end, but still. Will. How did Will get all of this, and he didn’t? And how could he compete with a dead man?
Arthur didn’t say much after that. Merlin tried, but all Arthur did was mutter into his pie.
Surely Merlin couldn’t have mistaken Arthur. Like the very nearly footsie. But Arthur wasn’t talking, was barely looking at Merlin. He couldn’t be disgusted, surely. He’d seemed quite willing, with the feet and everything.
Falling out of love right now would be brilliant, he thought, but Merlin just couldn’t see it happening. Ever.
Arthur had never been jealous before. Not like this. He’d never known it could be so crippling. He barely noticed when Merlin went, because his world was still lurching and spinning and reeling with Will, really?
oOo
Merlin and Arthur were back to barely speaking, but Elaine didn’t notice. She was too filled with the fact that she’d have her son back, and soon, that she hardly noticed anything.
And then it was the evening before Linet and Gareth’s arrival, and the three of them had plans to make.
“So, Elaine, you’ll go to meet them in the forest, but you can’t ride alone.”
“I won’t burden anyone else with the secret, if it can be helped, Arthur.”
“I can’t leave, I’d be noticed.”
“Well, that’s fine, isn’t it Arthur? I’ll go.” Merlin crossed his arms, refused to look Arthur in the eye, and hurt. Arthur hurt back.
“Are you sure? What if something happened?”
Arthur knew Merlin would be alright. He had magic to take care of him. But since he clearly wasn’t trusted, he had to act like he didn’t.
“Elaine is quite capable of protecting herself, and I’m expendable.”
He spat the last out, bitterness rising in the back of his throat.
“No, you’re not!” Arthur shouted, standing and slamming his hands onto the table. Then he stormed out.
“You want to tell me what’s going on?” Elaine asked.
“I all but admitted I kissed Will, from my village. Now he’s disgusted.”
Elaine sighed.
“I can’t fix this today. But I will, Merlin, I promise. It’s jealousy, sweetie, and I’ll prove it to you, but not now.”
She got little sleep, between thinking of Galahad and Merlin and Arthur. Merlin barely slept, either, but it was purely Arthur occupying his thoughts.
oOo
They left in the early morning, because there was no telling when Gareth and Linet might arrive, and leaving them waiting with a child in the forest was not a good idea.
Merlin learnt to tune out Elaine after a while; it was all Arthur, Arthur, Arthur. He didn’t want to hear. She’d just make him believe, however briefly, that Arthur could give him something he couldn’t. Instead, he thought of Gwaine and Lance. Either of them was good enough for him. Both was amazing. Arthur was more than he deserved, and he needed to get that straight in his head.
Soon though, Elaine’s words changed to longing for her child, and that Merlin could listen to. He heard how Galahad would gurgle along with you when you spoke to him, how Elaine had always been told that Galahad looked like his father, which Merlin couldn’t wait for, and how he breathed just loud-softly enough that she could hear him at night and know he was safe, but still sleep soundly.
There was more, too, the happy almost giggles Galahad let out, the way he smelt like lavender, how soft his hair was.
And then Merlin really needed a pee.
“It’s fine, Merlin, I know I’d be the one defending us if anything happened. But hurry, so I don’t fret!”
She shooed him away, so he checked on the horses tied to the tree, walked up through the forest. She couldn’t see, but she could hear perfectly well, and Merlin liked his privacy. He didn’t worry about Elaine. If there were any bandits around, she would be able to hold her own.
He didn’t know that they’d been watched. That as soon as he walked away, a magically silenced hand would clamp over Elaine’s mouth, an arm around her waist, until she was inside the hovel. The door was bolted, and shielded, and Morgana let go of her.
Elaine’s hand flew immediately to the hilt of her sword, but was stopped. She tried the other hand, but that wouldn’t move either. Trapped, as if in manacles, tied to the air.
“Who are you?” the voice asked. Elaine took a while to process it; feminine, foreign, regal. Only one person fitting that description who would want to capture Elaine.
“Hello, Lady Morgana.” Elaine attempted a bow, but all she managed was a tilt of the head, held in place by the stubborn magic.
“I have Seen,” Morgana said, walking steadily closer to Elaine, “your son arrive. If you do not want me to kill him, you will tell me your name.”
There was a hand on Elaine’s chest, a rush of air and a twist of her stomach, and the crack of her head against the wall. Pain rushed down her back, but she couldn’t double over, one hand held over her head, the other where it still itched for her sword. Though she knew metal would do no good against this.
“Elaine,” she said, making her voice clear, holding the shaking at bay, “My name is Lady Elaine of Astolat, and you will release me!”
Morgana just ignored her, laughed. The sound was clouded, and it made Elaine try to shiver away, into the wall, back muscles protesting against the pressure.
“You will make a promise to me. I will find you three days hence, and you will come with me without struggle. You will answer my questions truthfully. You will not reveal my presence. Or I will find your son and I will take him from you, poison him against you. Am I clear?”
Elaine’s features, in Morgana’s dreams so beautiful, twisted up into a sneer.
“I hate you,” she spat, all bravery and defiance and anger. And she did. Anyone who threatened her son was to be despised, and she added to that the cowardly use of magic, binding her still, forcing her lack of resistance. Oh, she hated Morgana.
Morgana’s hands gripped onto her, one closing on her raised wrist, the other on her hip. She leant in, pressed her lips to Elaine’s, hard. When Morgana’s tongue licked out, Elaine gasped, and Morgana pressed in, tangling their tongues together. She ran her fingers through Elaine’s hair, moaning a little when Elaine tipped her head, chasing Morgana’s tongue back into her mouth. And then Morgana pulled back.
“Three days,” she said, and she let her magic take Elaine away from her, back to where she’d been sitting with Merlin.
“Where did you go?” Merlin asked her, “I thought you must have been kidnapped!”
Elaine looked down, unable and unwilling to admit to what had just happened. She was ashamed. Kissing someone as evil as Morgana, someone she hated, it was wrong.
“I needed to stretch my legs, thought you’d be longer,” she lied, hands twisting in her lap as she sat.
It didn’t take long after that for them to hear the sound of hooves. Elaine stood, abrupt, hurrying out into the path.
“Elaine, what is it?”
“Hush, listen, I hear horses.”
“I-”
“Merlin!”
Reluctantly, sure it was a false alarm, Merlin stood, moving over to Elaine. Then, unmistakably, horses trotting.
“Linet?” Elaine called.
“It’s me, my Lady!”
The horses appeared over the crest of the hill, and Merlin breathed a sigh of relief. Elaine ran forwards, towards their sound, beaming; Morgana near forgotten.
“Where is he? Where’s my baby?”
“Here, Elaine,” Gareth told her, passing down the child. He smelt like soap and horses, masking a faint, sweet, baby smell. Galahad was nearly a year old, all dark brown curls and wide blue eyes, plump cheeks and dimpled joints. Elaine cradled him close to her chest, nuzzling into his hair.
“Mummy missed you, sweetie,” she said, cuddling him like she could barely believe he was there. Then she turned him in her grip, so Merlin could see him.
“Galahad, this is Mummy’s friend, Merlin. Say hello, sweetie!” For a while, Merlin wasn’t sure it was Galahad she was addressing.
“You shy? That’s alright, you’re tired, shhhh.”
Then Elaine turned her grin on Merlin.
“Does he look like Lance? Everyone says he has my eyes but the rest is his father.”
Merlin took the time to look then, eyes picking out each feature of the little face. The hair was a shade lighter than Lance’s, and of course the face shape wasn’t the same, but there was something. In the shape of the eyes, the mouth, the peaceful expression he gave Merlin.
Oh, fuck, Lance had a son.
It hadn’t really hit home before that moment. And then Merlin couldn’t help but think; Lance had to be told, because he wouldn’t want to miss this. He’d never shied from responsibility and hard work and, while a baby would be a shock, Merlin was sure another somebody to love with all his heart would be welcome in Lance’s world. And, like Elaine, he wouldn’t want to miss things.
“Yes, he does,” Merlin managed to croak out. Elaine was still cuddling Galahad, and she smiled, warm and pleased. She almost sniffed as she turned back to Merlin, and he worried briefly that she might break from so much emotion.
“Shh, Galahad,” she murmured, “No one’s going to hurt you while Mummy has you.”
oOo
Getting a baby into the castle without anyone seeing was more difficult than they had assumed.
In the lower town it was alright because Linet held Galahad, wrapping her cloak around him. They got through the upper town that way as well, Gareth pushing Linet out of the street whenever he noticed a palace servant or a guard. Merlin helped, too, because he recognised people more easily.
The courtyard was the worst - the only way to get to Elaine’s rooms without a huge detour through the training grounds, where it was even more likely that they would run into one of the knights. Arthur had promised to keep Lance busy and out of their way for as long as possible, but since he didn’t want to seem too obvious, there was not telling how well that was going.
They hung back for a while, watching the courtyard.
“It’s no good,” Linet hissed, “It’s never empty! God, what could possibly require so much dawdling in a bloody courtyard?”
“Language, Linet.” She hit Gareth.
“Look,” Merlin said, “I’ve got an idea, but you won’t like it, Elaine.”
A bit of bartering and a few minutes later, Linet carried a basket full of fabric and small child across the courtyard, arms linked with Elaine.
oOo
Arthur didn’t know what was taking them so long. There was only a certain amount of conversation material for two people whose only overlapping interests were matters of the knights. Standing in the armoury, Arthur began with sword weighting and moved to the benefits of different visors and shapes of eye slits, but inspiration was starting to run dry, and Arthur was clutching at straws.
“Yes, Sire, I do understand why you would favour a heavier pommel, but I myself… actually, my Lord, I have some errands to run, if you wouldn’t mind.”
He started to move away, so Arthur did the only thing he could and snatched at his wrist.
“Actually, Lancelot, there was a reason why I kept you here.”
He didn’t know why he did it. A spur of the moment decision, certainly, but there must have been something building to it. Maybe from the first time he fought Lance and realised how close a match they were. Maybe it stemmed from the way Merlin looked at Lance sometimes, giving Arthur ideas. Maybe it was Gwen’s regard for him, marking Lance out as a man easy to love. Or maybe just his nobility of heart and kindness.
Whatever it was, Arthur gave Lance’s arm a quick tug, stepping in to crowd his space, and kissed him.
It didn’t last long, and then Lance pulled away, looked hard into Arthur’s eyes. What he saw must have satisfied him, because his free hand reached up to curl behind Arthur’s neck, and he kissed him again, slower this time. When Lance pulled away, he sucked at Arthur’s lower lip, the touch too fleeting for Arthur’s liking but wonderful all the same.
“I shouldn’t have done that,” Lance said.
“What? No, it was good!”
Lance shook his head, solemnly.
“I’m… involved with someone else.”
“Elaine?” Arthur frowned, she would have told him if she’d got that far. The thought of Elaine brought a nauseous wave of guilt to him too. He shouldn’t have kissed Lance when she’d made her intentions clear, even though it was sort of for her benefit, keeping Lance out of her way.
“No,” Lance admitted, “Someone else.”
oOo
Linet and Gareth took the lower corridor, going to find Arthur. Merlin knew the castle better, and Elaine’s superior hearing would be the only thing preventing their discovery.
With one hand, Elaine held Galahad, perched on her hip, arm tucked around his waist. With the other, she held Merlin’s hand, letting him pull her through corridors. They stopped before each corner, and Elaine would cock her head and listen, turning slightly as if she were looking around. Then she’d nod, if it was clear, and Merlin would lead them through to the next corner. If it wasn’t, she’d pull Merlin frantically into the wall, and he’d find an alcove or something to hide in.
When Elaine’s hand closed over the familiar metal of her door handle, all she could do was sigh in relief. She all but fell into the room, walking straight over to the bed and sitting on it, cuddling Galahad.
“Oh, Merlin. Thank you.”
Merlin smiled, hovering in the doorway.
“I’ll leave you with your son, shall I?”
“Alright,” Elaine said, recognising the tone of someone not entirely comfortable around children. She listened to him leave, then gathered Galahad close to her.
oOo
Gareth and Linet were still very much not used to the castle. They found the kitchens and the laundry, but not the armoury or the training ground.
Merlin, however, did.
“Arthur, Sire, I’ve finished running those errands now, is there anything I can do to help?”
Arthur glared at him. If he’d just walked faster, been there just a few minutes earlier. Arthur wouldn’t have kissed Lance. Embarrassing himself was only the start, and that was bad enough. Lance would probably tell Merlin and ruin everything. Arthur sent him a pleading look.
Merlin could tell that something was off between Arthur and Lance. But this was Arthur, and Lance for that matter. Neither of their minds was exactly easy to comprehend. Merlin gave up trying, and just looked at the wall between them.
“Arthur? This is the point where you order me around?”
“Well,” he snapped, glaring again though Merlin couldn’t tell why, “I could do with a bath.”
“I’d best go, Sire,” Lance said, hurrying out of the door. Merlin decided to ask him what happened later, if he remembered between tasks set by the ever taxing Arthur.
oOo
They still didn’t talk much, Arthur and Merlin. Whenever Arthur saw Merlin, he nearly bent over double with the combined force of jealousy and guilt. When Merlin saw Arthur, he couldn’t help but wonder if what Arthur saw disgusted him. When he saw the grimace on Arthur’s face, his suspicions were only confirmed.
Elaine was completely impossible, with Galahad clinging to her fingers, walking him around her rooms until they were both dizzy and he needed a nap. Elaine would usually fall asleep with him - she had to keep up appearances, turning up for training, as well as spend as much time as physically possible with her son. That was all exhausting enough, and to make it worse she couldn’t sleep through the night since Galahad woke at least once while the rest of the castle slept.
She barely saw Arthur or Merlin, or anyone really, other than the times she left Galahad with Linet to maintain the semblance of normality with the knights.
And then, two days later, there was a knock on her door.
“Elaine! Come and see!”
It was Arthur, but Elaine had never heard him so excited, so childlike. She hoisted Galahad onto her hip, listening out for anyone in the corridor, then slipped next door.
Arthur’s best hunting dog had been pregnant for months, so it really shouldn’t have come as a surprise when she gave birth to a litter of puppies. But Arthur was beginning to get used to things sneaking up on him, in between his responsibilities, and when his kennel master had sent the message of newborn puppies it had caught him off guard.
Arthur was holding the runt in the palm of his hand, and he passed it to Elaine, to feel the weight and the softness of it. It was asleep, warm from Arthur’s skin. Elaine could practically feel the love pouring off Arthur. She put the puppy down, carefully, sitting Galahad next to it.
“Look after Galahad, would you? Someone has to see this.”
She hadn’t forgotten about Merlin and Arthur and their awkwardness. This was just too good an opportunity to pass up on.
When Elaine dragged him into Arthur’s chambers, a litter of puppies was not what Merlin had been expecting.
And then Arthur looked up at him, eyes wide with happiness, stroking the tiny balls of fluff, and Merlin just melted.
“They’ve just been born,” Arthur said, adjusting Galahad against his thigh, and when did sitting on the floor taking care of child and puppies become so hot? Then again, this was Arthur. Anything he did was hot. “They were so small I just- I had to-”
“They’re cute,” Merlin said, dropping onto the floor next to Arthur, unable to drag his eyes away. Arthur caught Galahad before he poked the eye out of one of the puppies, then turned to Merlin, meeting and mirroring his look of complete adoration. It took Merlin’s breath away.
“It’s Midsummer tomorrow,” Merlin said, and damn, Arthur had forgotten again.
“Yeah,” he said, because that was all he could trust his voice with.
“Will you be at the dance?” Merlin asked, with a newfound courage brought on by Arthur’s happiness. Right then Merlin didn’t think Arthur would mind the question.
Arthur took a while to watch the puppies, to clear his thoughts and his throat of the little lump that was forming there.
“Not officially. But yes, I’ll be there.”
“Oh. Good.”
Merlin couldn’t let himself hope, but then. He found that he was.
oOo
Gwaine was fun. Elaine had known that the first time they’d met. He’d been fun in the second training session, and the third. And most subsequent ones. Today, he was trying to convince her to let him take her out and get her well and truly hammered.
“What? You’d enjoy it!”
“But Gwaine, it’s not exactly the sort of thing that people like me do.”
“People like you? Come on, you’re a match for most of the knights. You don’t have to worry what people will think.”
Elaine laughed. She hadn’t really been thinking about the fact that she was a noble woman, more the blindfold. But now that he mentioned it, that was a consideration too. She had a reputation to uphold.
“Gwaine, I can’t see at the best of times.”
“No, but you can hear, and I’ll see for the pair of us.”
“Gwaine, it’s a no!”
“Alright! Fine!” He held his hands up in the air, in mock surrender, the tilt of his mouth laughing. “If you really want to miss out.”
“I’d love to, Gwaine, but I can’t.”
And then, later, there was a knocking on her door, and a voice that wasn’t Arthur’s or Merlin’s. Linet would just let herself in, and there was nowhere to hide Galahad, who decided that the second knock was the cue to start screaming the castle down.
“Elaine, is everything alright?”
The door opened - it was never locked - and Gwaine stepped in, about to rush over to her. Then he stopped in his tracks.
“Elaine, why do you have a baby?”
“Ah,” she said, bouncing Galahad up and down on her lap, trying to shush him, “That would be a long story.”
“I have time.” Gwaine went to sit next to her on the bed, touching her arm. “Can I?”
“Would you?” Elaine passed her son over, getting up to find an apple and a knife.
Galahad quieted a little as Gwaine swayed him, one finger in his mouth, slowly being gummed into oblivion.
“The story?”
“Oh, well. You know how I knew Lance before I came here? Well, about a year ago, I thought he was going to marry me, though in his defence he’d never promised anything like that.”
She didn’t have to say any more. Gwaine wasn’t stupid, and he could see the father-son resemblance as well as anyone else. Elaine cut the apple.
“So he got you pregnant then left?”
“He didn’t know I was pregnant when he left!”
Gwaine took a slice of apple from Elaine, holding it between Galahad’s lips for him. He recoiled a little from Elaine’s defensiveness.
“Elaine, I would never think Lance would do this on purpose. But, wow. Sir Noble had a secret affair and now has a child.”
“That he doesn’t know about! You can’t tell him!”
Elaine knelt next to him, gripping onto his knee. Gwaine ran a hand through her hair.
“Don’t worry, I can keep a secret.”
“Why does that not reassure me?”
Gwaine laughed, throwing his head back, nearly dislodging Galahad.
“Because you clearly know me too well already. Alright, I’ll keep this one. So long as you let me get you drunk at the Midsummer celebrations tonight.”
Elaine sighed. Linet had promised to take Galahad - she and Gareth would have their own private celebrations some other time - because Elaine had appearances to keep up. So it wouldn’t matter if she were a little inebriated that night.
It was also three days since Morgana had taken her. Elaine suspected that she would use the cover of the crowd to meet her, and supposed that a little extra confidence wouldn’t go amiss.
“Alright. But not completely pissed; just a few at most.”
Gwaine grinned, flicked his hair back with confidence.
“You, my Lady, will be in good hands. The best.”
“And that’s what I’m worried about, Gwaine.”
oOo
The feasting for the nobles was a restrained affair. There was wine, and there was good food, but there was also a code of conduct. Even those who were planning on getting spectacularly drunk later held back. Still, the food was delicious, and almost made up for the speeches after the servants had left for their own celebration.
Merlin wouldn’t have to be putting up with this, he thought, as he listened to Geoffrey’s usual lecture about tradition and the values of the Midsummer celebrations. It was all complete bollocks, of course. To everyone present, Midsummer was just a bit of fun. Yes, it began as a celebration of the warmth and of the harvest to come, but now it was just a chance to dance and drink and kiss and, if lucky, bed someone.
Merlin would be making the most of the drinking part of this opportunity, of course, while Arthur sipped from his goblet and tried to look attentive. From Gwaine’s raised eyebrows, he guessed he wasn’t doing an incredibly good job of it. It was only to be expected, when Arthur had more important things on his mind. Like Merlin, and whether he’d accept the first dance from him, and all that entailed.
The puppies had got him talking to Merlin again, and he had realised that he couldn’t just let Merlin go because he was jealous of Will. Will was dead, and Merlin was smart enough to move on. If Merlin hadn’t done so, Arthur was sure he would have noticed. Merlin had had his mourning, and then things had slowly returned to normal.
And yes, Arthur felt guilty, but nothing had actually happened between him and Lance, so there was no real cause for concern. He just couldn’t let anything petty get in the way of this opportunity.
Oh, and Elaine would probably kill him if he didn’t show or at least tell Merlin what he felt. If he kept telling himself that was why he was doing it, maybe he wouldn’t be so nervous.
He couldn’t admit how afraid he was, because if he admitted he’d let the fear in, and then he would never try. He was frightened that Merlin would laugh in his face or worse; pity him. Arthur wouldn’t be able to stand that, or seeing Merlin again afterwards. Equally, he wouldn’t be able to bear never seeing Merlin again.
Perhaps it was best not to think about that. He drummed his spoon against the edge of the table, as quietly as he could manage, and thought about what it would be like to kiss Merlin. He’d run his fingers through that gorgeous hair, or maybe just hold him close - no, he’d cup his cheek, running his fingers over Merlin’s cheekbones. That was it. And then he’d be gentle, so as not to scare Merlin off, and Merlin would slowly open for him, and it would be amazing.
Arthur let his face glaze over with a smile, until he realised it was his turn for a speech. He recited his words, about the value of love, and how it held Camelot together, without really thinking about their meaning. He’d had time enough for that when he’d written the speech. Instead he thought of Merlin, thought about how Merlin would smile if he heard those words.
Arthur was beginning to lose the ability to wait.
The King’s speech traditionally concluded the official celebrations. Normally he would wait around to wish everyone well, but tonight he had a dance to attend. He slipped out of the back of the hall, pleading illness, took himself up to his room and changed quickly. Some of his plainer clothing, and a blue cloak that brought with it memories of another disguise, a time when he was so arrogant and naïve, seemingly so long ago. That thought led to a reminder of just how long he’d wanted Merlin, and the possibilities that opened up tonight, so he hurried out of the castle.
He’d missed the bonfire being lit, but the minstrels were only just setting up, the singer as yet nowhere in sight. Arthur set to scanning the crowd for Merlin.
oOo
Elaine seemed oddly reserved, Gwaine thought. So he elbowed her.
“Oi, you. Smile.”
Her answering twist of the lips was too weak.
“Worrying about Galahad?” Gwaine asked.
“Yeah, something like that.” Close enough. After all, Morgana could hurt Galahad. It was three days after their meeting, the kiss. It was time to face her.
Gwaine took her by the arm, leading her through the crowd to a busy stall. He flicked a coin at the bartender, who passed him a tankard in turn. Gwaine gave it to Elaine.
“You need to loosen up. Drink this.”
She took a slow sip, then smiled.
“It’s good. Mead?”
“Sweet, like you.”
She laughed then, and Gwaine allowed some of his worry to slip away.
“Go on then, find your girl for the first dance.”
Gwaine allowed himself to be shooed away, Elaine laughing again at the scheming look on his face.
And then there was a pressure on her upper arm, and a quiet voice in her ear.
“Let’s go somewhere a little quieter.”
“Morgana.” She hissed. The kiss hadn’t changed anything about how Elaine regarded her. If anything, it had sharpened and hardened the hatred.
“Follow me.”
“I’ll be missed.”
“I won’t take you for long.”
Morgana led her to the edge of the crowd, away from the bonfire and the attention of Camelot’s people.
“You had questions?” Elaine asked, everything about her tense, on edge. Morgana had seen her lithe, or loose, and she longed to soothe Elaine’s fears away. But she had a part to play.
“What are you doing in Camelot?”
“I have come to win the hand of Lancelot, the father of my son.”
Morgana refused to allow the thought of Elaine with anyone else to hurt her. Or at least she tried to. It was an impulse harder to control even than Morgana’s Sight.
“Why are you blindfolded?” In some of Morgana’s visions, Elaine had seen, and it made no sense.
“There is a curse; that terrible things will happen if ever I set eyes on Camelot. I needed to come to Camelot, so I did not allow myself to set eyes on it.”
Morgana nodded. If Elaine had her sight, she would have noticed the admiration and awe in Morgana’s face. As it was, she just bristled further at the silence.
“What are you to Arthur Pendragon?”
“A friend, I’d like to think. Not a prospective wife, if that’s what you’re thinking. But I believe in him.”
Elaine smiled at that, the expression perhaps a little harsh because of Morgana’s presence, and it was clear that she was telling the truth. She believed that Arthur made a good King, and she believed that he would continue to do so in the future. Morgana didn’t feel jealous, which surprised her. There was just a blinding sense of the rightness of this all. And the wrongness of how fate and her own wishes collided so spectacularly badly.
The music was quiet there, where the forest and the town met, but it floated over to them. They could hear just enough of the rhythm and melody to make out the tune.
“I have one final question,” Morgana said, voice low, like she was trying not to mask the music, or like she was afraid to speak. “Will you dance with me?”
Elaine was taken by surprise, both by the request and by the way Morgana asked. She sounded so soft, so vulnerable and so longing that Elaine reached out before she’d really thought it through. Morgana took her hand, then moved to face her, taking a gentle hold of Elaine’s hip. Elaine’s hand came to rest hesitant on Morgana’s shoulder, and Morgana squeezed her hand.
“Thank you.”
They swayed more than danced, straining a little to hear, the singer’s voice only a distant lilting murmuring. Morgana pulled Elaine closer, bravery buoyed by memories that weren’t hers yet. Her arm wrapped around Elaine’s waist, and Elaine didn’t protest. Though she knew she should. The hatred was fading now, washed away by Morgana’s humanity no matter how she clung to it, and it was leaving space for something else.
When the music drew to a close, it was both too soon and far, far too late. Morgana let go of Elaine reluctantly, fingers lingering on the fabric of her dress, on her belt, just layers above the skin of her hip.
“Go socialise, I’ll see you later.”
And with that, she was gone.
oOo
Merlin watched the fire, the flames dancing with a life force he couldn’t quite muster, locked in his thoughts. It could be Arthur. Time alone would tell, but time wasn’t going fast enough. If it was Arthur, Merlin would have to play it very carefully. He would have to dance better than he ever had, later kiss Arthur as spectacularly as anyone else Arthur could choose, preferably more so.
Equally, he couldn’t get carried away with this fantasy, because it probably wasn’t Arthur at all. Probably whoever it was would have lost confidence and wouldn’t approach him at all.
The first strings of notes were being offered to the flames. Merlin watched the fire rise to meet them, and then he felt, and he turned.
There was something familiar about the blue cloak, but it wasn’t the clothing of someone he knew well, or he’d be able to place it much more easily.
“I hope I did alright with the flowers, Merlin.” The voice was regal, and instantly recognisable, and at once everything clicked into place. Arthur’s desperate need to prove himself, his appalling disguise, kept in the back of the cupboard since then. And Merlin couldn’t quite take it all in, unmoving, rooted to the ground.
Arthur could hardly bear it. Maybe Merlin hadn’t got the flowers. Or maybe this wasn’t what he was expecting - maybe he’d wanted them to be from someone else.
Then Merlin cleared his throat, and Arthur’s heart lodged in his own.
“If the intention was for me to save the first dance for you, Arthur, I suppose you did alright.”
It was all Arthur could do not to grab him and kiss him right then. Instead, he extended a hand.
“Dance with me?”
Merlin’s grinned and Arthur thought for a moment that he’d been knocked senseless again. His heart didn’t seem to want to beat properly, and his chest felt constricted. Maybe it was just the smoke.
Part of Arthur’s mind decided at that point to temporarily disable the inner prat, bite back whatever sarcastic retort he had poised on his tongue. He smiled back to Merlin, holding his hip with one hand and his upper arm with the other. Merlin mirrored the hold, but holding Arthur’s shoulder instead of his arm.
“Finally,” Merlin said. Arthur saw fit to pinch him only lightly.
Arthur wasn’t really a dancer. But he understood rhythms, understood movement, and he could make do. Merlin wasn’t much of a dancer either, too clumsy by far, so there was no one to let down. Arthur held him tight, moved him to the beat of the tambourine, keeping him firmly upright.
Though their technique never really mattered. All there was were their eyes, locked on each other.
“I don’t ever want to move again,” Merlin admitted, a low murmur, under the music so no one else would hear him.
“I don’t think I do, either” Arthur leant in a little closer, as the music died down, “But it’s our duty to dance with as many other people as is humanly possible. Don’t get too drunk, I’ll see you later.”
He stopped, just a hair’s breadth from Merlin’s lips, and for a moment Merlin thought he was going to flout tradition and kiss him then and there. But Arthur drew back, still hidden by the cloak. Merlin was the only one who knew who the fabric hid, and that made his heart soar, just a little.
Then Arthur wandered off to find Elaine, leaving Merlin a little bereft.
He found Gwaine next, then a couple of women he’d never met before, then Lance, just freed from a quick dance with Elaine. Gwen next, then he sat out the next few dances, drinking with Elaine and Gwaine. Elaine became steadily gigglier, dancing more freely each time he saw her. He hoped Gwaine knew what he was doing.
Merlin turned away from them, watching the dancers, and that was when he spotted the blue cloak. There was a respectful distance between Arthur’s body and the one he was holding, the perfect distance. Arthur was probably just trying not to be recognised. And then they turned, and Merlin recognised Lancelot, and he wondered.
Elaine was his next dance, then a kitchen maid. Another drink, and the music changed tone. It was a signal to the crowd, the discords disguised by the excitement, to find your first partner again. Merlin scanned the crowd, seeing nothing, and then he turned.
“Hello.”
“Arthur!”
Merlin wanted to launch himself into Arthur’s arms, but found he couldn’t. It was all too new, too unknown. Instead, he took a very small step closer, swinging his arms, and waiting.
Elaine didn’t hear the footsteps. There was a hand, turning her, and then there was the pressure of fingers on her hips. She recognised the smell, of earth and herbs and something bitter and harsh.
“Morgana?”
“Hush, there are traditions to uphold.”
The music changed again, softer, quieter, and there was a hush from the crowd.
Arthur leant in, bringing a hand round to hold the back of Merlin’s neck, pulling him in for a kiss. Their lips came together, and then Merlin tugged on Arthur’s hips and their bodies pressed close. Merlin gasped, and Arthur took that as an invitation to lick in. Their tongues met, and neither of them could get enough, hands scrabbling at fabric, through hair. Arthur rolled his hips, and they both moaned, then pulled quickly away. It was too much for here. But they were under no obligation to remain in public. Merlin’s pupils were blown wide, and Arthur couldn’t resist. He took Merlin’s hand and tugged.
Elaine waited, though there was just stillness. She couldn’t see the looks fleeting across Morgana’s conflicted face, which was probably just as well. And then there were lips on hers, and arms coming to wrap around her, to hold her like they’d never let her go.
And maybe because she’d been drinking more than usual, or maybe just because she felt comfortable with Morgana’s scent, trusted her despite the facts, began to love her when vulnerable and open; Elaine kissed back. Morgana moaned then, teasing tiny bites over her lower lip and sucking there, her hands in Elaine’s hair. When she finally pulled back, her fingers lingered over Elaine’s skin, squeezing her hand just once before she left. No promises of again, no reassurances that it meant anything at all. Elaine was left breathless, without the slightest idea where she was, or what was going on.
There was a cheer from the crowd, a relieved, overjoyed sort of a sound. A girl stood at the edge of the gathering, facing the forest, a little bit lost. Two figures, one cloaked in night-stained forget-me-not blue, the other with a ridiculous scrap of cloth tied around his throat, hurried away into the night, towards the castle.
oOo
“Elaine? Let’s get you back to your rooms.”
“Gwaine! Thank you for finding me. For tonight, too.”
He shrugged, took her hand, led her up to the castle.
oOo
They headed for Arthur’s rooms, because they had thick walls, but mostly because of the big, comfortable bed. Arthur locked the door behind them, turning, only to find himself crowded against the door by an insistent Merlin. It was a little unexpected, but certainly not unappreciated. Arthur leant in, pressed his lips to Merlin’s, and kissed him, opening immediately for Merlin’s tongue.
The next time Arthur found himself capable of coherent thought, neither of them was wearing anything, and he was pulling Merlin over to the bed.
“I’ve never-” Arthur thought to say, “I wouldn’t take advantage.”
Merlin nodded, kissing him quickly again.
“We won’t start full on, then.” And then he pushed Arthur onto the bed, moving to kneel between his knees.
They’d already mapped out each other’s bodies. Arthur knew without clearly remembering that he’d sucked that bruise onto Merlin’s collarbone, and he’d traced each of those ribs, pressing down into the skin. Arthur wouldn’t be able to remember details of this, either, except for thoughts of good and more. He’d remember the next times, though, when he wasn’t quite so needy or so delirious with happiness. And he’d remember the vague impressions, the exhilaration of being allowed to touch, the rush of joy and lust as he discovered something new about Merlin, some new sound that Arthur alone could draw out of him.
Merlin kissed along Arthur’s inner thigh, up, towards his groin, and Arthur lost the ability to hold himself upright any longer, lying, back flat on the bed. His head tipped back when Merlin reached his cock, arching, a desperate whine that he’d be ashamed of if he’d actually recognised that it was from him. He came embarrassingly quickly, but then so did Merlin, when he crawled over Arthur and Arthur let him rut into his hands.
They woke up in the morning light, tangled together. Arthur wasn’t needed for a few hours yet, so Merlin kissed him. Kissed his shoulder, where his head rested, kissed his neck, his jaw, his lips. Arthur just sat up and pulled the curtains on the bed, snuggling back into Merlin.
oOo
When Elaine woke, it was to happy sounds next door, a softly crying child, and a splitting headache. And a vague sense of guilt.
It was only after she had wrapped a new cloth nappy around Galahad and fed him that she remembered why. And she cursed her appalling, alcohol fuelled judgement. No matter how beautiful and soft the voice, how tragic and alone she seemed, kissing an enemy of Camelot was a very bad idea. Even if she didn’t care for herself, which she did, she had to do right by Galahad. Earning Arthur’s hatred was not the way to go about doing that.
She’d helped him win Merlin by the sounds of things, though. Thick walls could only block out so much after all. She smiled to herself, and fed Galahad another piece of pear.
oOo
“Did you put him up to it?”
Elaine smiled, and pulled Merlin into a hug.
“It wasn’t my idea, no, but I may have pushed him in the right direction.”
Merlin squeezed her, tight, and she let out a little airless whimper.
“Thank you. It’s- thank you.”
“Merlin- can’t breathe-”
He stepped away, quickly, and Elaine caught her breath. She brought a hand up, to cup Merlin’s cheek.
“You sound happy.”
“I am. Really, really happy.”
“Well, off you go then. The sooner you finish your work, the sooner you can be with him.”
Then she leant in, kissed his cheek, and listened to him all but bound away. At least the events of last night had made some people happy. Elaine was just confused.
“Gwaine… What would you do if there was someone you thought you really liked… I mean, you barely knew them, but you liked them and you wanted them to kiss you again, but they’re really not good for you, and being with them would only get you in trouble… what would you do?”
“I’d fuck them and keep it secret.”
Elaine laughed, bitterly.
“Yeah, you would, wouldn’t you.”
Arthur only paused his nauseatingly happy sword swinging for a moment.
“I don’t know. Are you talking about Lance?”
“Just hypothetically.”
“Depends on how serious the trouble was. If it wasn’t too bad, I’d still go for them. If not… I’d train and try to forget. But it doesn’t really matter, does it? If it’s hypothetical.”
“Hand me a sword, would you, Arthur?”
They sparred for hours. Arthur had seemingly limitless supplies of energy, even though he clearly hadn’t slept very well, and Elaine had a point to try to prove to herself.
When she finally collapsed into a heap on the floor, Arthur had to loop her arm over his shoulder to get her upright again.
“You alright? Need Gaius?”
She smiled, weakly.
“It’s alright, thanks, Arthur. I just need bed.”
He all but carried her up the stairs and along the corridor, unlocking and opening the door to her rooms for her. He unbuckled her cuirass, and guided her to the bed. Then, quiet, he picked up a sleeping Galahad, tucked him into his mother’s arms.
“Come to dinner,” he murmured, “I want to make sure you’re alright. My chambers.”
She nodded, sleepily. Arthur was content to leave her, but only because she needed the rest and Linet was in the next room.
Lying in the semi-dark, as Arthur left, she could only think of Morgana, and how on earth she was going to get to see her again. Elaine groaned, and turned her head into the pillow.
oOo
By evening, Arthur was the pacing side of worried. He decided to look for Merlin.
Gaius’ chambers were the first port of call, he must have finished all the work that Arthur had sent by now. He opened the door without knocking; well, Merlin never knocked on his door, it was only fair.
He was rewarded with a full on view of Merlin’s arse, the rest of him buried in Gaius’ leech tank. Arthur watched for what must have been a full ten minutes before clearing his throat. He was getting far too turned on by what essentially boiled down to his servant cleaning out a slimy, dirty glass case. Where horrible blood sucking things that made Arthur’s skin crawl used to be.
“Merlin, what are you doing?”
Merlin twisted in the tank, failed to catch sight of Arthur, so wriggled out and turned. His face lit up in a grin when his eyes landed on Arthur.
“What does it look like, Arthur?”
“Messy.”
Merlin laughed.
“I’m cleaning the leech tank. My punishment for worrying Gaius and not coming home last night.”
“He may have to get used to that… or have a very clean leech tank.”
Merlin blushed, and his smile widened.
“Oh really?”
“Yeah. Listen, I need you to get dinner for three tonight. And fruit.”
Merlin frowned. Arthur’s mouth hardened into a line.
“I’m worried about Elaine.”
oOo
By the time Arthur had Elaine and Galahad in his rooms, she was worse, if anything. Distracted, bumping into things. The only thing that could hold her attention was Galahad, when he squirmed and squirmed and demanded wordlessly to be walked around the room. Elaine set him down, took his little hands, bending over double, and shuffled around the floor.
“Where are you taking me, Galahad? Oh no, not that way, the table’s too low for Mummy.”
Arthur smiled, then promptly jumped out of his seat and launched himself across the room, not in enough time to stop Elaine’s head hitting the corner of the chest of drawers.
“Are you alright?”
“Oh, I’ll be fine.” And there it was again, that distraction, the lack of Elaine’s presence in the room.
Arthur was watching her be led around the room again, clearly not having learnt her lesson, when Merlin walked in. Elaine carefully turned Galahad to face him, extricating a finger from his tight hold.
“Wave to Merlin, sweetie. Come on, I know you can do it! You waved to Linet earlier!”
Galahad looked up at his mother, a look as scathing as any Arthur could give. Merlin burst into laughter, not helped by the look of confusion Galahad gave him.
“Aren’t you precocious?” he said, putting down his tray and kneeling to Galahad, who of course chose that moment to start waving, clenching and unclenching his fist.
“Is he doing it? I can’t see!”
“He’s waving, Elaine.”
“Oh, good boy, Galahad!” She swept him up in her arms, walking over to sit at the table, misjudging the distance and flailing for the chair. Arthur and Merlin looked at each other. Elaine losing her perception of where she was was like the sun rising in the west - unheard of. Something must be seriously wrong.
Merlin brought the food over, sat down, and dished out. Elaine busied herself cutting grapes in half for Galahad.
“So, Elaine, how was your Midsummer?”
“Not that interesting, you saw me for most of it. I’m more interested in yours. Go on, tell me I was right!” She grinned at them both, and Arthur couldn’t resist knocking his foot against Merlin’s.
“I wouldn’t call it right…”
“Oh, what would you call an instance when I come to the correct conclusion?”
“Maybe, a fortuitous coincidence.”
Merlin laughed, and kicked Arthur.
“Arthur! She was right! And aren’t you glad? Thank Elaine for forcing us into being happy.”
He stared right into Arthur’s eyes, until Arthur had to break away from the strenght of the glare.
“Thank you, Elaine, for making my life hell for a few weeks. It meant I got saddled with this one, and for that I am eternally grateful.”
Merlin scoffed, and pouted. Arthur leant in and kissed him. When Merlin turned away, it was with a smile on his face.
And then Merlin had to explain how romantic Arthur had been, because it was clear Elaine didn’t know the story, and he needed someone to be astonished with. Elaine was suitably astonished.
“So, who did you dance with?”
“Oh, only friends, really.”
“Anyone special?”
“Well, I danced with Lance.”
Arthur narrowed his eyes, interrupting Merlin’s interrogation. There was something not at all right with her voice when she mentioned Lance.
“Is he who this is all about?”
“No, of course not!” She sounded horrified at the thought, which was odd, but Arthur believed her and he nodded, “Anyway, what’s ‘all this’?”
Merlin shook his head.
“You’re thinking about something, Elaine. All the time. We’re worried.”
“Oh, it’s nothing.”
But they all knew it wasn’t. Elaine wished she could convince herself it was.
When she left to put Galahad to bed, Arthur was even more worried than he had been before.
Part Four