fic: Never Drive Faster Than Your Guardian Angel Can Fly 6/?
Title: Never Drive Faster Than Your Guardian Angel Can Fly 6/?
Author: writteninhaste previously feathergirl89
Rating: Currently G but no doubt this will drastically increase in later chapters
Warnings/Spoilers: Spoilers for Season 1
Summary: Merlin was in heaven, minding his own business, when he was told he was to become the guardian angel of Arthur Pendragon. Written for rane_ab’s Guardian Angel plot bunny.
Never Drive Faster Than Your Guardian Angel Can Fly
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
The sun was already high in the sky by the time they reached Goatsridge. Merlin had slipped from the saddle sometime before dawn and flown alongside the party. Arthur had turned his head to watch the flight until Edgar had asked what it was that so caught Arthur’s attention. From that point on, Merlin had flown behind Arthur so that the Prince would not be tempted to watch the glide of Merlin’s wings.
The residents of Goatsridge were huddled in their homes when Arthur and his knights approached. The headman pointed to the woods behind the town, wishing the Prince God’s speed, before hurrying back to his wife and children. As Arthur turned his horse towards the woods, three hellish howls tore through the air.
“The tales say that such creatures only hunt at night - that people are safe during the day.” Arthur murmured as Merlin drew level with him.
Merlin raised a single eyebrow and gave Arthur a look. “What grown man would want to admit he was afraid of the noon-day sun?” He asked, “Far easier to be frightened of the dark.” Arthur grunted, and kicked his horse into a trot. The beast snorted and strained against the bit, as the stench of blood and old death flooded its nostril, but it was an animal trained for war and did not bolt. Merlin had to admit he was impressed. At the base of the hill that led to the woods, Arthur dismounted and tied his horse to a tree. Edgar and Owain followed suit, whilst Merlin ran an agitated hand down the flank of Arthur’s stallion. Arthur met his gaze over the horses back before calling for the nights to follow him.
They had barely reached the edge of the wood, when the ground trembled beneath their feet and a low growl shook the trees. The Cerberus padded into the light, maws wide and gaping, teeth gnashing in a snarl. Its claws tore through the roots of trees until its fur was heavy and matted with sap. Merlin could easily imagine the liquid to be blood. Arthur and his knights drew their swords. Merlin fluttered anxiously to the side, desperate to defend the Prince but unsure if it was wise. None could see him but Arthur. And were he to suddenly pull the Prince through the air, sorcery would be to blame. At best, Merlin thought, the knights would accuse each other. At worst, they would think the Prince himself to blame. And besides, the heavens might be watching. It did not occur to Merlin that the knights of Camelot would readily overlook such things if it meant the life of their Prince, or that the Dominions did not spend their days spying on their underlings.
The Cerberus sniffed the air. Its six nostrils snuffling wetly as it took in the scent of men. Suddenly, its left head snapped violently, and Merlin realised with horror that it had caught his scent. His gaze caught Arthur’s and with a cry the Prince gave the order to charge. Three swords swung at three separate heads and the Cerberus’ attention was diverted. Edgar landed one true blow, before the head Owain had been sparring with, ducked beneath his guard and knocked Edgar off his feet. The knight lay prone and Merlin raced across to check his pulse, heaving a sigh of relief when he felt the man still breathing. Arthur gave a shout and Merlin turned in time to see a rainbow of blood arc through the air as the Cerberus tore at the meet of Arthur’s shoulder. Owain attempted the aid the Prince but a paw, larger than Merlin himself, swept him into the trunk of a tree where he lay unmoving.
Arthur was desperately trying to keep his sword raised, but he was losing blood fast and his defence was failing. Nimbly, he rolled away from the beast’s attack, but Merlin could tell the manoeuvre had cost him dearly. He swayed on his feet, blinking away the darkness at the edge of his vision. The Cerberus raised a snarling head, and Merlin swept forward, carrying the Prince to safety. The beast howled and raged, eyes burning with hellish fire. It charged, and Merlin forgot to care if either Edgar or Owain were watching; if he was about to risk the Dominions’ wrath. Keeping one arm wrapped around his charge, Merlin raised the other, speaking words in a tongue long forgotten. The magic burnt across his tongue and seared his throat, spilling from his lips in a scalding wave of gold. The Cerberus howled as it was enveloped in light, and Merlin dimly heard Arthur gasp. He tried to halt the spell, to bring the magic back inside his skin, but it was as though a flood had been unleashed. Life and death and hope and fear pulsed within his veins. His heart thrummed faster than any mortal could withstand as his eyes bled to liquid gold. With a yell, Merlin shoved the remained of the spell from his body. The sudden silence was deafening, and Merlin felt himself drowning in a sea of quiet. His ears roared, and Merlin felt the world spin in a stream of colour and light. He only had a moment to twist his body so that he was between Arthur and the ground, before he fainted and fell to Earth.
***
Arthur was slumped against a wall, sipping from a goblet when Merlin regained consciousness. He felt weak and drained after the expenditure of too much magic and his left wing throbbed sharply. How had he come to be lying face down on an unfamiliar bed? Hissing in pain, Merlin raised his head to look around the room. He caught Arthur’s gaze, and the Prince instantly started towards him. The blonde favoured his right shoulder as he moved across the room, and Merlin watched in concern as Arthur settled himself upon the bed. The moment other man was within reach, Merlin ran his fingers across the crude bandage wrapped around Arthur’s shoulder. He felt a lead wait settle in the pit of his stomach; he had failed to protect his charge.
“How are you feeling?” Arthur asked quietly, but Merlin found he could not answer. His throat felt dry and tight; he realised his hand was trembling. Arthur reached up and swiped his thumb across Merlin’s cheek. When he withdrew, his thumb was wet with Merlin’s tears.
“I’m alright you know.” Arthur said, turning Merlin’s chin so the angel was looking him in the eye. Merlin nodded, blinking rapidly to dispel his tears. Arthur shook his head with affectionate incredulity. “You really are a big girl, aren’t you, Merlin?”
Merlin chuckled wetly and drew Arthur down beside him, burying his face into Arthur’s hip as soon as the Prince had sat down. Arthur went rigid with shock for a moment, before patting Merlin awkwardly on the head. Merlin curled his fingers in Arthur’s breeches and tried very hard not to think about how close he had come to failing his charge in the worst possible way. Arthur hands eventually tangled themselves in Merlin’s hair. Merlin breathed long and deep, glorying in the thrum of blood he could feel beneath Arthur’s skin and the sound of the Princes breathing.
“Go to sleep, Merlin.” Arthur instructed, his hand stroking idly through Merlin’s hair. Merlin found he was powerless to disobey.
***
When Merlin woke again, it was full dark outside. The smell of food and the goblets lying on the table at one end of the room told Merlin that Arthur had eaten, and in the company of at least two other people - most likely his knights. They were alright then, that was a relief. Arthur himself was curled uncomfortably atop the sheets. He had left Merlin sprawled across most of the bed, and taken the remaining corner of himself. The Prince looked so young, knees tucked up to his chest and head lolling to one side as he slept. Waving one hand, Merlin gently levitated his charge into the centre of the bed, shifting until he was curled into the Prince’s side.
Merlin made to settle his wings over the both of them, only to be brought up short as his left refused to move. Glancing over his shoulder, Merlin felt something warm blossom in his chest. Slats of wood and soft linen were braced against the feathers; Arthur had splinted his wing. Merlin recognised the linen as belonging to one of Arthur’s shirts. The Prince must have taken the time to tend to the injury himself. On impulse, Merlin reached up and placed a soft, chaste kiss against Arthur’s lips. He was so lost in the sensation that he did not notice Arthur wake. It was only when Arthur pulled away, looking at him with wide blue eyes that Merlin realised what was happening.
What have I done? He thought.
Chapter 7
Author: writteninhaste previously feathergirl89
Rating: Currently G but no doubt this will drastically increase in later chapters
Warnings/Spoilers: Spoilers for Season 1
Summary: Merlin was in heaven, minding his own business, when he was told he was to become the guardian angel of Arthur Pendragon. Written for rane_ab’s Guardian Angel plot bunny.
Never Drive Faster Than Your Guardian Angel Can Fly
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
The sun was already high in the sky by the time they reached Goatsridge. Merlin had slipped from the saddle sometime before dawn and flown alongside the party. Arthur had turned his head to watch the flight until Edgar had asked what it was that so caught Arthur’s attention. From that point on, Merlin had flown behind Arthur so that the Prince would not be tempted to watch the glide of Merlin’s wings.
The residents of Goatsridge were huddled in their homes when Arthur and his knights approached. The headman pointed to the woods behind the town, wishing the Prince God’s speed, before hurrying back to his wife and children. As Arthur turned his horse towards the woods, three hellish howls tore through the air.
“The tales say that such creatures only hunt at night - that people are safe during the day.” Arthur murmured as Merlin drew level with him.
Merlin raised a single eyebrow and gave Arthur a look. “What grown man would want to admit he was afraid of the noon-day sun?” He asked, “Far easier to be frightened of the dark.” Arthur grunted, and kicked his horse into a trot. The beast snorted and strained against the bit, as the stench of blood and old death flooded its nostril, but it was an animal trained for war and did not bolt. Merlin had to admit he was impressed. At the base of the hill that led to the woods, Arthur dismounted and tied his horse to a tree. Edgar and Owain followed suit, whilst Merlin ran an agitated hand down the flank of Arthur’s stallion. Arthur met his gaze over the horses back before calling for the nights to follow him.
They had barely reached the edge of the wood, when the ground trembled beneath their feet and a low growl shook the trees. The Cerberus padded into the light, maws wide and gaping, teeth gnashing in a snarl. Its claws tore through the roots of trees until its fur was heavy and matted with sap. Merlin could easily imagine the liquid to be blood. Arthur and his knights drew their swords. Merlin fluttered anxiously to the side, desperate to defend the Prince but unsure if it was wise. None could see him but Arthur. And were he to suddenly pull the Prince through the air, sorcery would be to blame. At best, Merlin thought, the knights would accuse each other. At worst, they would think the Prince himself to blame. And besides, the heavens might be watching. It did not occur to Merlin that the knights of Camelot would readily overlook such things if it meant the life of their Prince, or that the Dominions did not spend their days spying on their underlings.
The Cerberus sniffed the air. Its six nostrils snuffling wetly as it took in the scent of men. Suddenly, its left head snapped violently, and Merlin realised with horror that it had caught his scent. His gaze caught Arthur’s and with a cry the Prince gave the order to charge. Three swords swung at three separate heads and the Cerberus’ attention was diverted. Edgar landed one true blow, before the head Owain had been sparring with, ducked beneath his guard and knocked Edgar off his feet. The knight lay prone and Merlin raced across to check his pulse, heaving a sigh of relief when he felt the man still breathing. Arthur gave a shout and Merlin turned in time to see a rainbow of blood arc through the air as the Cerberus tore at the meet of Arthur’s shoulder. Owain attempted the aid the Prince but a paw, larger than Merlin himself, swept him into the trunk of a tree where he lay unmoving.
Arthur was desperately trying to keep his sword raised, but he was losing blood fast and his defence was failing. Nimbly, he rolled away from the beast’s attack, but Merlin could tell the manoeuvre had cost him dearly. He swayed on his feet, blinking away the darkness at the edge of his vision. The Cerberus raised a snarling head, and Merlin swept forward, carrying the Prince to safety. The beast howled and raged, eyes burning with hellish fire. It charged, and Merlin forgot to care if either Edgar or Owain were watching; if he was about to risk the Dominions’ wrath. Keeping one arm wrapped around his charge, Merlin raised the other, speaking words in a tongue long forgotten. The magic burnt across his tongue and seared his throat, spilling from his lips in a scalding wave of gold. The Cerberus howled as it was enveloped in light, and Merlin dimly heard Arthur gasp. He tried to halt the spell, to bring the magic back inside his skin, but it was as though a flood had been unleashed. Life and death and hope and fear pulsed within his veins. His heart thrummed faster than any mortal could withstand as his eyes bled to liquid gold. With a yell, Merlin shoved the remained of the spell from his body. The sudden silence was deafening, and Merlin felt himself drowning in a sea of quiet. His ears roared, and Merlin felt the world spin in a stream of colour and light. He only had a moment to twist his body so that he was between Arthur and the ground, before he fainted and fell to Earth.
***
Arthur was slumped against a wall, sipping from a goblet when Merlin regained consciousness. He felt weak and drained after the expenditure of too much magic and his left wing throbbed sharply. How had he come to be lying face down on an unfamiliar bed? Hissing in pain, Merlin raised his head to look around the room. He caught Arthur’s gaze, and the Prince instantly started towards him. The blonde favoured his right shoulder as he moved across the room, and Merlin watched in concern as Arthur settled himself upon the bed. The moment other man was within reach, Merlin ran his fingers across the crude bandage wrapped around Arthur’s shoulder. He felt a lead wait settle in the pit of his stomach; he had failed to protect his charge.
“How are you feeling?” Arthur asked quietly, but Merlin found he could not answer. His throat felt dry and tight; he realised his hand was trembling. Arthur reached up and swiped his thumb across Merlin’s cheek. When he withdrew, his thumb was wet with Merlin’s tears.
“I’m alright you know.” Arthur said, turning Merlin’s chin so the angel was looking him in the eye. Merlin nodded, blinking rapidly to dispel his tears. Arthur shook his head with affectionate incredulity. “You really are a big girl, aren’t you, Merlin?”
Merlin chuckled wetly and drew Arthur down beside him, burying his face into Arthur’s hip as soon as the Prince had sat down. Arthur went rigid with shock for a moment, before patting Merlin awkwardly on the head. Merlin curled his fingers in Arthur’s breeches and tried very hard not to think about how close he had come to failing his charge in the worst possible way. Arthur hands eventually tangled themselves in Merlin’s hair. Merlin breathed long and deep, glorying in the thrum of blood he could feel beneath Arthur’s skin and the sound of the Princes breathing.
“Go to sleep, Merlin.” Arthur instructed, his hand stroking idly through Merlin’s hair. Merlin found he was powerless to disobey.
***
When Merlin woke again, it was full dark outside. The smell of food and the goblets lying on the table at one end of the room told Merlin that Arthur had eaten, and in the company of at least two other people - most likely his knights. They were alright then, that was a relief. Arthur himself was curled uncomfortably atop the sheets. He had left Merlin sprawled across most of the bed, and taken the remaining corner of himself. The Prince looked so young, knees tucked up to his chest and head lolling to one side as he slept. Waving one hand, Merlin gently levitated his charge into the centre of the bed, shifting until he was curled into the Prince’s side.
Merlin made to settle his wings over the both of them, only to be brought up short as his left refused to move. Glancing over his shoulder, Merlin felt something warm blossom in his chest. Slats of wood and soft linen were braced against the feathers; Arthur had splinted his wing. Merlin recognised the linen as belonging to one of Arthur’s shirts. The Prince must have taken the time to tend to the injury himself. On impulse, Merlin reached up and placed a soft, chaste kiss against Arthur’s lips. He was so lost in the sensation that he did not notice Arthur wake. It was only when Arthur pulled away, looking at him with wide blue eyes that Merlin realised what was happening.
What have I done? He thought.
Chapter 7