Off the Beaten Path 2/3
Five hundred and fifty four days after Merlin had disappeared (and roughly six months after Morgana had, but Arthur didn't obsessively count each day since, he left that to Gwen. Counting for one was enough) he and Gwen marched down the stairs to see the dragon that Gaius had finally - finally - admitted might have some answers. A year and half plus some change after Merlin had first gone (gods, Arthur had nearly known Merlin as long as he had been gone at this point) they traversed into the darkness with only a torch, a sword, and a fervent need between them.
He stood on the ledge and blinked out at the cave. It was not what he had expected. Huge and dark - he could hear a distant river far beneath. He wondered if the dragon was fed - or if it lived off of magic and water, half starving beneath the castle. Anger churned in Arthur's gut at his father, an emotion that was becoming too common as the rift grew. It had cracked open at Morgana's disappearance, wider and wider as Uther blamed him for Morgana not being home and Arthur blamed his father for neither of them being able to come home. Or at least they must think so - he would fix that, when he found them. He would tie them each to their beds - or Morgana to hers and Merlin's to his own, depending on his mood at the time.
"Dragon," he called, the fury in his voice from Gaius' silence making his voice growl. "I, Arthur Pendragon, have come to ask of your knowledge."
"And I, Guinevere, daughter of the blacksmith and maidservant to Lady Morgana," Gwen added, her voice echoing down, down into the cave, this huge underground world.
Harsh, bitter laughter answered them. "Young Pendragon. This is something I did not see. Your other half denied me his presence after he killed Nimueh, except for once. Why do you come here when he would not?"
Nimueh. He knew that name. Killed - Merlin had killed her. He shoved it away and back, something else to ask Merlin about when he found him - he only left himself wonder briefly which of them had been targeted by Nimueh that time. Morgana, perhaps - she had said he wouldn't be killed by her hands. Merlin wouldn't kill unless she had done something awful, or was going to do something. He breathed in, breathed out, and asked, "You don't know where he has gone, then?"
There was a shift, metal clinking against stone and something heavy and large suddenly dropping from far above, a chain slinking down below it. Arthur stayed still and pretended he was as brave as everyone thought as he let Gwen grasp onto him, terrified, and her slid an arm around her protectively, ready to shield her with his body as the grand creature dropped onto the craggy outcropping in front of them, settling in as if it had been shaped for him. "He truly has gone then? He came to me just once, to have a theory of his confirmed. I was proud that he had begun to think of things for himself - but he would hear nothing else from me. I had hoped that my help would have encouraged him down here again. I did not think he would truly leave you, my king."
Neither did I, Arthur didn't say, instead snapping, "I am not king yet."
"You have always been king. The only king many of us, the creatures of the old way, will ever bow to. Some may choose the other path - but it is you that the stars have sung about for millennia, and it is you we have waited for. You and the boy." The dragon curled its tail about, sounding faintly amused and much less bitter than moments ago. It cocked its head, peering up and away. "He is a strange one. He has fought and defeated many parts of his destiny - but you he willingly gives himself to. The old ways will have to be content with that, since he and they are shifting everything else."
"They?" Gwen dared to ask, unwrapping herself from around him, taking a brave, hopeful step closer to the edge. She looked less frightened than he did, enchanted even and he wondered if there was something in the peasant class that gave them some sort of unwitting attraction to magical creatures. Those this was a far cry from the unicorn. "You know of my lady."
It was a statement, not a question. The dragon chuckled, a sound that resounded all around them, bouncing off the walls to echo louder into their ears. "The whole world can feel them as they move now. I had hoped they were still in Camelot, that the feel of them was when they left on missions. But it was a foolish hope. Druid, Seer, Knight - and Warlock." The dragon looked at them and inclined his head to Arthur. "King." Then to Gwen, "And Heart - once I would have said you were so much more - but now I am not so sure. In name, perhaps you will be. But in truth - so much even I did not expect."
"What are you talking about?" Arthur demanded, for once in his life not wanting the vague talk of court. "Speak plainly - surely you were not this way with Merlin, he never would have understood a thing."
"He often did not," the dragon replied, his eyes laughing at Arthur. "But I have said all but one thing, one hint if you so wish to find them - Wait for danger to come to you. They will follow at its heels."
"No!" Gwen cried before he could. "We need to find them."
"No," the dragon said. "They need to find you." It laughed as it threw itself into the air, the last words coming down to them as the chain slithered like a snake after it. "At least I will not be bored."
Arthur stared after it, processing. He knew it was up there, knew he could rage and scream and maybe three years ago, when he and Merlin had just met at the end of a glorious summer, he would have. But through two autumns and winters, another glorious summer and just one and a half springs he had changed - and two more summers without Merlin had taught him even more. Patience, for one, and when being a prat was worth it and when it would drive those he wanted near him away.
He looked at Gwen. "Winter will be coming again soon."
"Yes," she said, puzzling over him, her eyes sweeping his expression for a clue. "It will, sire."
He nodded thoughtfully, and led them back up the stairs, dousing his torch as they entered into the light of the castle dungeons. He waited until they were past the guards and up another flight of stairs before saying, "We should hurry if we want to get them home before winter. There are only so many magical creatures I can stir up before first snowfall."
"Didn't the dragon say wait?" Gwen asked, her eyes large and fingers trembling but not saying no, not even in that "I respectfully disapprove" way of hers.
"Yes, he did," Arthur agreed pleasantly.
He had learned to be patient when it was important, and when it was not and he would need to take it by force.
----
Morgana awoke not with a gasp but with a start, her mind grasping at the details she had dreamed and her throat croaking out a spell that made the parchment waiting for her fly into her hands. She rose up, sitting on the mattress and placing the parchment on the bench of the table near their "beds". As swiftly as possible, she wrote down the details. It wasn't often anymore that she had dreams that were so immediate - many times they had days, weeks, even months or, for a very few, years to prepare for. She wrote them all time, and tried to guess at the immediacy to them.
This one was soon - within days, and far enough away that they would need every bit of spare time to stop it. Magic had helped hone her ability, and Mordred, Merlin, and Lancelot had all spilled their blood with hers to keep her grounded and sane so when the more frantic dreams (like this one, she knew) would not put her wild and on edge, creeping closer to madness as they had slowly begun to when the Questing Beast had shown its face.
Despite how quiet she had been, the beds (mattresses on the floor, woven from straw because as hardy peasants as the boys were and as tough as she was, they did have the money and Merlin had gotten used to mattresses) were pressed tight together and Mordred had awoken from either the jolt of her body or thoughts, and Merlin wasn't far behind. Once he sat up, Lancelot stirred and by the time she had the basic details down, all of her boys were waiting for her (all but one) to finish. Her quill scribbled down one last detail before she drew back, rereading the hurried thoughts and landscape and then she glanced up, meeting Merlin's eyes. "We have to go. Arthur will need us."
"Are you sure this isn't one of his attempts to draw us out?" Merlin asked, more than a bit suspicious (and amused) of that now. Morgana sometimes wondered if the game they were playing was a very complicated flirtation between the two at this point. Arthur had to know they were the ones protecting them from afar and Merlin had to know that he knew.
Morgana looked at Mordred, studying the boy who was thirteen now, grown enough that the resemblance between him and the child he had been was barely visible. To her it seemed obvious - but to Uther, who had only seen druids... "Yes. It is time."
She saw all three of them glance at each other and she stood, a smirk growing at the look of trepidation and anticipation on Merlin's face, Lancelot's nervous excitement and Mordred's wide-eyed trembling. "We've been away from them too long."
"Are you sure?" Merlin asked, looking at her, waiting for her to indicate she had seen something, that her Sight was granting her this, and not just her own impulse, her own thoughts. She raised an eyebrow at him and cocked her head, smiling slow and wicked. It was all the answer he would get.
"I am glad we... acquired new horses," Lancelot said, fumbling over the true word, the stole that he wouldn't say. "I do not believe Carys will leave her filly."
"She shouldn't," Merlin agreed, quick to defend the newest member of their family. "She's still so tiny."
Morgana remembered the "tiny" filly gleefully stomping on a poisonous and mystical snake just last week and thought that Merlin could sometimes be a bit blind to the things he loved. The fact that the filly had been born pure white and blue eyed was stranger still, and all of them were very quiet about anything being wrong with the filly. As it turned out, she had been perfect - nothing less. She would have liked to blame it on Arthur's stallion, but more likely it had been their magic (and the fact that Carys had been constantly in the presence of it since shortly after her conception - really, it wasn't like anyone had told her that Arthur's stallion had broken out of his stall the week before she left and they had found her two hours after it was much too late) that had altered the filly slightly. Perhaps there would have been something wrong with her, or perhaps their magic had bleached the color from her. As it were, the filly was strong, and looked like she would be a credit to her sire's line, as well as her dam.
She wasn't afraid of magic at all, either. Privately, Morgana kind of wished she were older - she would be an excellent horse to ride under any sorcerer. The fact of it was, she was much too young. "We'll leave her and Carys here. We can have them brought in later, when we've made sure we can... When we're settled."
Mordred's expression tightened and she sighed at her misstep. He knew now that he was at least half the reason they stayed. Him, and the fact it had been... easier, in some ways, to dedicate themselves away from Camelot. But protecting Arthur from afar could only do so much, and Mordred was old enough. "We'll be fine," she assured him. "Arthur won't let anything happen to us. But we need to leave now. All of Camelot was in danger."
That spurred them on to action as little else could. She rolled up the parchment and stuffed it into the closest saddle bag, food following next, then a bedroll. Books were left behind - they were useless in battle - and weapons were taken up. All of them had swords now, and daggers, and she stopped Merlin from picking up the staff. "There will be too many people about."
Reluctantly, he let it go, leaning it back against the wall in its place near their beds. More than once he had rolled out of bed to grab staff first and twisted around to face whatever had woken him - only once had an intruder managed to get through their defenses, and the man had been half mad. The other times... Even Merlin was not spared his share of bad dreams. He laid a hand on the staff regretfully, and then moved off to saddle his horse - and likely would start on hers if she didn't hurry out there in time.
Despite that, she lingered in their tiny home, her eyes sweeping the small place. It hadn't been much, a place to shelter in during winter and in the night, but it had been as much of a home if not more than her chambers in Camelot. Here there had been no expectations and she had run roughshod over her boys with as much power as any King. Here they had thrown flour at each other when Merlin and Lancelot had fumbled through teaching them bread and half the flour had ended up on their clothes instead of in the ovens. Here - she would never see again as a home. She knew that, knew this was the end.
Soon, it would just be another hut - but no one else would ever live in it. Somehow, she knew that. It would forever be theirs.
She turned away and went through the door, her mouth already open to yell at Merlin before her eyes even registered him sheepishly tacking her horse. In some ways, this had been her home - in others, she traveled with her home, and soon she would be whole.
----
On the seven hundredth and thirty third day since Merlin had disappeared (and Merlin had officially been gone longer than he had been in Camelot, damn his stubborn hide) Arthur was backed up to a tree, right shoulder partially in front of Gwen and staring at the many, many gryphons wheeling in the sky like so many misshapen hawks. "I am beginning to think magic may have indeed played a part in the defeat of the gryphon," Arthur said gravely, a mischievous twinkle in his eye as he met Gwen's gaze.
"Just thinking that now?" Gwen asked, her hands white with the tightness of her grip on the hilt of her sword. "I think Sir Lucan's sword shattering on the one's hide would have been a clue."
"Sometimes I think the magical part of this world mocks me," Arthur said, very much aggrieved. It really wasn't fair at all. "Other kingdoms don't seem to have half as many magical problems."
"Other kingdoms also didn't kill off all their magicians, begging your pardon sire," Gwen answered, not really sounding sorry at all but more as if she was more than a bit exasperated with him.
He narrowed his eyes and glanced at her sidelong. "I still think it's not fair."
"Maybe you can tell them that?" she suggested sweetly and yes, Morgana had rubbed off on her - or maybe that was him. At least, that's what someone else had said. Someone who might have been very useful right then (marginally, slightly - not that Arthur had gone and grilled Gaius for every time his life had been saved by a certain someone or anything) if only he hadn't been frolicking off somewhere with Morgana for the past year.
"It seems I'll get the chance." He sighed and held out his sword, determined to die protecting her, even if the creature diving for them would likely only kill her shortly after. He would tell her to run, but he had learned that while Gwen seemed perfectly obedient and respectful she went conveniently deaf whenever he ordered her to do simple things like "Run" or "Not come after me when I jump into the lair of this three headed snake monster" and other such very ordinary commands.
It wasn't that she deliberately and obviously disobeyed or yelled at him like Merlin or Morgana - she instead gave off an air of puzzlement, as if he had never issued such a strange order. He had quite given up on getting her to leave his side in battle. Truly, at least it was a real friend at his side.
Just as the gryphon swooped down, its wings curling slightly, back arched and front claws forward like a stooping hawk, there was a flash of a sword to the side and suddenly a man was in front of them and the gryphon shrieking in angry fear, one of its wings somehow cut clean through so it writhed on the ground, screeching its bloody head off.
How did you do that, Arthur wanted to demand but instead Gwen went "Lancelot?" like it was the most incredible thing she had ever seen, as if he was the most wondrous, wonderful thing she had ever seen and he turned slightly, and yes, it was Lancelot. With a sword glowing with blue flame which was much more terribly important.
Arthur scrambled away from his tree, looking into the forest and not caring that his back was now to the gryphon. There was only one reason Lancelot's sword could be glowing that way. "Merlin? Merlin! Where are you?"
"He's coming, your highness," Lancelot said behind him, calm and polite as if there wasn't a fierce creature about to attempt to kill him. "He was a bit delayed."
"I have called him," a new voice said, both familiar and not and a boy stepped out of the woods, not yet a man grown but with the gangly limbs of one who was growing into himself. He held a short sword in his hand, as naturally as if he had been born to it. Arthur absently made a note to test him if they survived, for as good as Lancelot was, it wouldn't do to have the child be taught wrong.
"You're Mordred," Arthur mused. "I remember you. A bit smaller then."
"It has been a few years," Mordred said, in such a way and without tone that Arthur wasn't sure if the boy had meant that to sound insulting or if it was a simple statement. Then again, if he had been around Morgana and Merlin - "You really aren't terribly bright, are you?"
Arthur sighed and looked over at Lancelot - who was busy fighting the gryphon. He couldn't really be counted on for sympathy against subjects that were terribly disobedient anyway. He glanced back at the boy and waved his sword. "Can you do it then?"
The boy's eyes focused on their swords with such an intense look that it sent shivers down Arthur's spine. The answer came in the words of a spell, perfectly intoned, and the air seemed to shiver with the power of them. Arthur's sword began to glow blue, a warm feeling flickering at his core. He jerked a nod to the boy. "Thank you."
Then both he and Gwen were there, next to Lancelot and though he was annoyed, he wasn't surprised to see the child there, dodging and using his smaller mass to roll beneath the creature, thrusting upward. The gryphon screamed, throwing its head back and all three of them launched forward, swords sliding into the neck in unison for a killing blow - that made the gryphon explode. Arthur fell back, surprised at the sudden lack of resistance and could only think that it was much tidier than he had expected.
Then he looked up, where dozens more still flew. "One down."
"They aren't ours to worry about," Lancelot told him, lending him a hand up, his palm warm and callused. "Watch."
"I am - Oh." Arthur blinked as suddenly, one by one and then two by two the creatures fell from the sky. There seemed to be no reason for it - just suddenly they collapsed in midair and fell like a very awkward rain to land on the earth unmoving. He watched one as it crashed through the trees not far from them. "Are they dead?"
"No," Mordred answered. "Sleeping - for a hundred years."
"Just a hundred?" Arthur said. "I just don't know if that will be long enough. If we start now, and only kill one a year each... we'll still have killed them all before a decade has passed."
"Yes," Mordred agreed. "Next time I'll be sure to ask them for only five minutes. Then we can rush around trying to kill them all with glowing swords and hope your father doesn't see us. Would that be preferable?"
"My apologies, sire," Lancelot said, though his lips were twitching into a smile. "Merlin and Morgana may have influenced the child. Slightly."
"Slightly?" Gwen asked, a giggle to her voice he hadn't heard in too long. "I don't think they ever do things by halves."
"Quarters and wholes, really," a new, annoyingly cheerful and ever so welcome voice said. "Halves are just messy."
Arthur turned, studying the scrawny body standing there in clothes not terribly dissimilar to what he had worn before. Blue tunic, red neckerchief - the brown cloak instead of the jacket was new, but it was still cold at night so Arthur could allow him that. His hair wasn't even longer - in fact there was a sharpness to it that said it had been recently cut. There were no new visible scars - but that didn't mean he shouldn't look for them.
That was his intention as he stalked over, prowling forward like a cat on the hunt. Merlin watched him, nervous but not afraid, not wary, just waiting for him to come - until Arthur was in his face, hands on his shoulders, and forcing him back, step by step until his back was to a tree. Then there was confusion, but Arthur watched for anything else - no fear, no rejection. "Arthur, wh - "
That was what he had been waiting to hear, for years and it was entirely Merlin's fault that he jerked the other man's head back with a fierce grip in his hair and claimed his mouth with a roughness he might thought he might later regret as there was little sweet in it - just possessive and Yes, this. Except Merlin wasn't struggling, was pushing back, pushing into it, opening his mouth willing under him and Arthur trembled inside as he ravaged Merlin's mouth. One of them was making embarrassing noises but he was too busy working his other hand beneath Merlin's tunic (checking for scars of course, why else) to try and work out which of them it was. He decided it was Merlin because he would never be moaning so obviously from just a kiss - even if Merlin's hands were everywhere.
He actually snarled when a hand landed on his shoulder, glaring behind him at Lancelot's embarrassed face. "What?"
"Perhaps this can wait?" Lancelot suggested, and Merlin made a strangled noise that sounded a bit like a NO to him and Lancelot raised an eyebrow, looking past him at Merlin, despite him trying to shift to block his view because Merlin looked more edible than usual with his lips red and swollen and his body arched into Arthur's, eyes dilated and wide. The knight (or not really, Arthur knew, but he was at the same time) coughed and looked around. "Mordred is a little young to see this."
"Mordred was raised by druids," Merlin whined, but then sighed, dislodging Arthur's hands, despite the outraged glare he got. He had liked his hands where they were, thank you very much. "Arthur, there are probably things we should talk about before we - "
"No there aren't," Arthur cut him off. "You're a sorcerer, you've saved my life more than any one person has the right to, and you're coming back to Camelot if I have to tie you up to do that."
Merlin gave him a smirk that was uncannily like Morgana and said, "We can try the last one later, but really - trees aren't terribly comfortably."
"How do you know?" Arthur demanded and he wasn't being overly aggressive about this, no matter what Gwen's sigh behind him said. Just because he was already making plans to hunt people down meant nothing.
"I know because of right now," Merlin said and the sweet reunion part apparently just wasn't meant to be because already Merlin sounded like he was saying "you prat" and Arthur found himself highly annoyed and maybe a little amused.
Still... "I have a tent. Somewhere."
"And your father and a large group of knights that you were separated from that might think something is a bit suspicious when we come waltzing in right after the gryphons all fell out of the sky like - like - " Merlin paused, trying to find the words.
"Rain," Arthur offered, mostly so Merlin would go on speaking more and he could keep breathing the same air and telling himself Merlin was there and not another dream.
"Sure," Merlin said agreeably, not sounding like that had been what he was looking for but he went with it anyway. "And anyway, your armor is cold."
"You could take it off," Arthur suggested, leaning in for another kiss and thrilled when Merlin let him get away with it. This time he did it right, sweet and slow and felt his knees weaken a bit (it was the adrenaline levels dropping, the adrenaline) before he reluctantly backed away with a happy sigh he would eternally deny ever leaving his mouth. "I hope you have a gift for me. You have been gone for ages."
"The gryphons weren't enough?" Merlin asked, nudging at him impatiently so that he was forced (under protest) to actually not be breathing Merlin's air anymore and take a step back. And then another because apparently Merlin wanted room to stand or something silly like that. "I've never given anyone gryphons before."
Lancelot coughed and Arthur pointed at him triumphantly. "You gave Lancelot a gryphon!" Then he paused and narrowed his eyes, suddenly cutting the (possible traitorous and actually very shoddy) knight with a cold glare. "You were sharing his bed."
Lancelot actually went pale and Merlin groaned - and hit him upside the head. "I was not sleeping with Lancelot. You know, I thought Morgana was possessive of us, but its some silly noble thing isn't it? There's only one person in Camelot I want to end up in bed with, Arthur, and he's a great big prat who is ungrateful and shows no gratitude at all even though I saved his life again."
"Mordred bespelled my sword," Arthur sniffed, smiling at the boy who looked at him with bemusement, gaze going from him to Merlin as if they were the strangest thing he had ever seen. "Perhaps when I'm King he'll be Court Sorcerer."
Mordred blinked slowly, then looked at Merlin and in a small, apologetic voice said, "I'd actually rather be a knight."
There was a long, long pause and then Merlin said with a sigh, "I thought you might." Arthur found expectant, pleading blue eyes looking at him and Arthur was ready to say yes before he even knew what the question was. "I know he's probably not a noble, but Morgana's basically adopted him and maybe not right now and it could be too soon to be making plans for when you're king at all but - "
"Yes," Arthur answered, almost positive he knew what he was answering. "I was planning to open the knighthood up as it was once I am king. I'm sure Mordred will make an excellent addition by then, or at very least a squire if he is not yet ready."
Merlin beamed at him and Arthur didn't even trying to resist - he kissed him again, pulling the warlock toward him and not caring that Lancelot was probably blushing up a storm or Gwen squeaking behind him. All he cared about was -
"Finally," a voice muttered as Morgana appeared from the woods behind them. "I knew one of you would have had to do something when you saw each other again." She looked him up and down scathingly. "I suppose it only makes sense it was you. You always were more aware of your baser urges."
Arthur tightened his grip on Merlin's shoulder even as they drew away, keeping him close to his side, stung at the implication - but Morgana was smiling and here and he was, for once, too happy to pick at her. Not when Gwen was running into her lady's arms and interrupting anything he would have tried to say anyway. Disappointingly, they did not kiss. "I feel that is tragically unfair."
"Huh?" Merlin asked and Arthur looked from where the two women were standing to his warlock's expression which was arranged in a familiar expression of confusion - and not the fake one that he was sure he could now recognize if he saw it.
"Never mind," he said, his sigh that of one who had to endure many hardships, mostly including idiots who couldn't be bothered to keep up with his thought process. "We should go find the rest of my knights."
"Um," Merlin said, eyeing him. "Do you actually listen to the words that come out of my mouth?"
"Yes," Arthur answered immediately because he did, actually, want Merlin to not run off again and in one of Merlin's most serious moods he had told Arthur to listen so awful things (like Merlin disappearing) might happen if he said otherwise. "What did you say?"
"It might be suspicious," Merlin said slowly, like one did when speaking to a small and particularly stupid child, "if we were to appear now."
Arthur could see that. He could. Except - "No one will notice."
All five people standing near him stared. He shrugged, couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at them, feeling a thrill of belonging and deep seated contentment. "No one ever did, did they?"
"I don't think - " Merlin began to protest, but there was suddenly a knight galloping toward them and all of them stiffened - but the knight took little notice as he jerked his horse to a stop, pulling sharply on the poor beast's head.
Then as the horse panted the knight looked at him with wild eyes and it was Sir Lionel, one of the younger but scrawnier ones and with one of the faster horses. So it made sense he was used as a messenger but not what was so desperate about it all. "Sire - My prince. Your father is hurt."
Oh. Arthur blinked, slowly, wondering if this was the world's idea of balance, to get something back and have something else be taken away. His father should have stayed home - but a nest of gryphons, a small army of them had lured every fighter they had out in an attempt to defeat them and of course his father had come to defend his kingdom against invaders of the magical kind. Woodenly, he replied, "I will be right there. Let them know I am coming."
The knight wheeled his horse around. He could hear Mordred muttering suddenly, but it seemed unimportant as he stared mutely at Morgana whose eyes had gone wide, her face gone pale. Whatever problems she had with Uther, he could see in her eyes that this news shook her as well. Somehow, that didn't make him feel better, not even to see honest sadness on Merlin's face as he stepped away, leaving Arthur feeling bereft but also knowing this was a grief he could not share - even as Morgana ducked her head to hide it in Gwen's tunic, he knew he could not do the same.
"A horse," he said dazedly, looking around - and was surprised to find four coming toward him, none of them his. Except one did look faintly like the one he had given to Lancelot years ago, and another was definitely Morgana's. He looked in mute entreaty at Lancelot, whose horse was clearly the best for a fully armored knight.
"Take her, sire," Lancelot told him and gratefully, he did, freezing part way up and looking at the others. None of them had made a move toward their horses - but Gwen was still there. She would make sure they came, that they didn't disappear.
"I'll see you when you catch up," he said crisply, and it was a warning as well as a farewell. Morgana nodded tightly when he glanced at her, and Merlin said nothing at all. It would have to be enough.
The trees mocked him as he rode, and he did not know what he would find.
----
A week back in Camelot, and Uther was slowly getting worse. Morgana stared out the window, remembering a day long ago when she had done the same and shivered. She was not that person - she refused to be that person again after being able to escape the trappings of a lady for so long. She had worn a dress today - only to see Uther, in a brief period of time that he was awake. She had torn it off almost before the door was closed in her room, refusing to wear it a second longer, her mouth curling at the way it moved around her, so soft and meant for nothing but the most delicate of work.
The dress lay on the floor where she had left it. Gwen had returned to being her servant in name at least, but Morgana was uncomfortably with it now. Just a year and she saw things so differently - she would settle back in. She knew she would, just as Merlin must and Mordred and Lancelot would.
She was getting new chambers. She had already decided that. They all were. With connecting doors, possibly. Or at least some of them. Perhaps Arthur and Merlin with a connecting door - and Mordred between her and Merlin, and a connecting door between her and Mordred and Mordred and Merlin. They could learn to lock doors when something untoward was happening. It would happen - she was used to getting her way now, and she was sure Arthur could be bullied into something he wanted anyway.
It was easier to think of the future than the present, with Uther dying. The future held the Camelot they wanted, that they hoped for. The present held the reason it couldn't exist dying and them all mourning him despite it all. Even Merlin looked so full of sorrow when he had every right to be terribly angry.
The door banged open suddenly and she glanced up, surprised but not showing it as Arthur barged in, pausing at seeing her back in tunic and trousers. He cocked his head, and made a clinical show of looking her up and down, looking distinctly unimpressed. "You were wearing a dress just this morning."
"Yes," she agreed and drove the point home, "And I only shall again in Uther's presence. Never after except for special occasions."
She watched his face twist, his mouth open - and then shut, looking at her with eyes too thoughtful, too knowing. He didn't deny it - nor did he give her the nod she craved. Instead, somehow rousing the tone needed for command he demanded, "Where is Merlin?"
She waved her hand automatically in the direction she could sense him, not even following the length of her hand with her sight. "In that direction. Somewhere. Already having problems?"
"That gives me nothing! And we can't have problems if he isn't talking to me," Arthur complained, looking put out and the tiniest bit uncertain. "He's barely talked to me this entire week."
"Perhaps he is giving you time to grieve alone," Morgana mused, but her curiosity was peaked. She had seen much of Merlin - as had Lancelot and Gwen and Mordred, she was sure. Avoiding Arthur hadn't been something she had expected - she crossed to the door with eager strides and bright eyes. "Go to your chambers, Arthur. I'll find him for you."
"I do not need your help," Arthur insisted, but she didn't bother to reply, striding onward. She ignored the odd looks as she had ignored them the entire week as the castle passed her by. Even the servants stopped to stare at the lady, the woman who dared to not wear a dress. The castle passed in a blur, each step taking her closer to Merlin.
When her blood urged her up, she thought for an amusing moment Arthur had completely missed the obvious spot of the physician's quarters - but no, he hadn't. She went past them - up to the battlements where magic tingled through her senses. She drew a breath and nearly choked on it. Her hand shot out to catch her on the doorway as she swayed, surprised by the strength of it. This was not something she had expected - the tang of magic had been there, inside as well, but she had thought little of it, being so used to feeling it all around her. Their dwelling had been covered in it.
Now, so was the castle. It had felt so similar to home it wasn't until she saw Merlin, hands spread on the battlements that she realized. What had protected their home, where Arthur had not been, would only be a shadow in comparison to the strength Merlin would put in to protecting Camelot. She glided forward, feeling like she belonged here, on the battlements. She stopped by Merlin's side and studied his hands. "Blood magic."
"Binding magic," Merlin confirmed, too serious by far. "I pay attention, you know. To your dreams."
Blindly, she stared out, not seeing the town at all. "Yes. You would. Which one brought this on?"
"The ones of years coming," he said, quietly. "I know you only get glimpses - but there was more in what the druids wrote that confirmed them, added to them. Even without Mordred by their side, a power will rise."
"And Camelot could fall," she said, seeing it. The blood that would run through the streets haunted the few honest nightmares she had - brought on by a vague vision of the future. "You think this will prevent it?"
"It can't hurt," Merlin said, a note of brave cheer winding its way into his voice. Morgana watched him tremble, his eyes glowing gold as he started muttering a long stream of words. At the end, the wall seemed to ripple with gold. She was surprised that no one even looked up, didn't seem to notice at all. He sighed, and then slumped precariously forward, prompting her to grip his arm. He smiled weakly at her. "I had to do all four walls."
Eyes wide, she stared at the blood running into the battlements - but it was gone, part of the magic now and she quickly gripped one of his wrists. Turning it over, she could see the deep lines in his palm where he must have re-cut to keep the blood flowing. "Merlin - how long have you been up here?"
"Since before dawn," he said honestly, crooked smile doing nothing to assuage her worry. "I'm fine, really."
"Liar, she murmured, but let him lean on her anyway. She should take him to Gaius' chambers just below but - she didn't want to head down into the castle just yet. "Arthur is looking for you."
"Ah." Merlin winced, and it had nothing to do with the pain of his hands. "Is he?"
"You're avoiding him." She glanced at him and his expression was all the confirmation she needed. Idiot boys. "Why?"
Merlin sighed against her, his eyes growing dark and serious and she steeled herself against having to fight his stubborn nature. Usually, she could easily bully him, but when he dug his heels in... "We shouldn't... I was so happy to see him. But we can't, Morgana. Do what were almost did. He'll need heirs and a Queen and... it will kill me to have him and then not."
"You little fool." Morgana knew she should be calm but there was anger there, lashing out in the hiss of her voice. Idiotic, blind boy. "You think Arthur wants a queen? You think he will take a wife and just cast you aside?"
"I won't be the reason there are problems in a royal marriage," he snapped back and kept a firm grip on his arm as he struggled against her. She was glad that he was probably feeling a bit dizzy now. It made it easier to drive her point home.
"Then there won't be one," she snapped. "Gods, Merlin - you can think of so many other changes Arthur will make and be certain they'll come why is this such a problem?"
"He is king," Merlin insisted, and she didn't correct him on his present tense. "He needs heirs."
"Why?" she said crossly. "There are other lines - maybe not other Pendragon lines, but it was through his mother the line came. Or he can choose a young knight as heir when he grows old - it isn't unheard of."
"I won't keep him from his future. He deserves children." Merlin sounded like his heart was breaking and she wanted to throw him off the battlements for a moment from pure aggravation.
She took a calming breath. "He deserves to be happy. So do you. So do we all."
"The nobles will - " Merlin started doubtfully.
"Then we'll replace them!" she interrupted. "It hasn't been so many generations that most of them came from nothing! Arthur doesn't need them. He has the heart of the people, the knights, and us. If they try to rebel, it would take only a moments work to put a peasant in their place. The gods know you are more educated than half the nobles."
"I'm a little bit of an odd peasant," Merlin pointed out, seemingly undisturbed by her indication they could just easily replace the nobles. "I didn't even know I wasn't supposed to be learning how to read."
"I'm sure we can find a few other oddities," she said firmly, "Or younger siblings or cousins who have less problems with changes. Arthur does not need a Queen. And queen would be a farce - if politics made it essential, he'd be better off marrying one of us."
At Merlin's thoughtful look Morgana's look intensified into a glare. "Marrying one of us would also be dishonest. It would be a polite fiction everyone would see through. Do you really want to encourage that line of thinking, to put a lie forward to show everyone? Does that fit your view of what Arthur wants?"
He drooped depressingly and she clung to him just to make sure he didn't tip forward unintentionally. "No. No it doesn't. And I wouldn't - I wouldn't want to take from Lancelot anyway."
Morgana snorted, her lips curling upward into a vicious smirk. "You would be taking from me. Gwen would be the one to do it if it happened - I won't ever be a pretty piece in court again."
"Yes." Merlin grinned at her, twisting to look her pointedly up and down. "I had noticed your lack of dress. Kind of a relief. Familiar."
"And you with your cloak." She nodded at the brown cloak he still wore and wondered if he even took it off inside. "Even if I can't be a knight, I refuse to be helpless, or even pretend to be."
"Why can't you be a knight?" Merlin argued. "If a peasant, why not a woman? They all know you fight better than half of them anyway."
She studied him a moment, strangely amused. "Arthur must have a wife but women can be knights? Merlin, you are a strange one even now. Which do you think would bother the nobles more?"
He shook his head and straightened, scowling at her. "It's different."
"No," she said, and decided it then and there, seeing the blood drying on his fingers. "It's not. But I don't truly want to be a knight - it is different only in that sense. We cannot change people's minds through magic, Merlin. That does not mean we should give up our happiness because of what they may think." She touched her fingers to his lips as he opened his mouth to further debate the subject. "Go see Arthur. Now. He deserves to at least be told that you're making decisions for the both of you."
He flinched as if struck, and she was glad to see some of the determination had worn away into uncertainty. Morgana watched him go, feeling satisfied. She had rusted the armor he had on, and Arthur would slash through it. After that, they could make true plans for what they could and couldn't do. There were many ways to pass on a kingdom. Arthur did not need to follow in his father's footsteps.
----
Sometimes, Arthur wanted nothing more than to fall into his bed and bury himself in it, pretend that he was a child again and not Prince, acting King, and with a duty to his kingdom and a dying father. He leaned at his window, staring out at his castle, his courtyard. Gaius had confirmed there was nothing to be done for the King but a slow, drugged death. He was tempted to ask "Even magic?" but was afraid. Gaius had made it clear to all and sundry that the King was dying. If he even asked, and Merlin heard... he might try. Probably had. Which meant there was nothing to be done. But he might try harder if Arthur asked.
So he didn't. It helped that Merlin was nowhere to be found and Morgana, much like Mordred and Lancelot, seemed to have an unerring sense of direction as to where he was. All the time.
He didn't have that. Arthur wanted it. Instead he supposed once Merlin showed his face - supposing Morgana actually found him and they weren't all playing with him (Lancelot wouldn't, but the other two...) - he would have to get on that plan of tying him to Arthur's bed. It would be highly enjoyable for both of them.
The door opened without anyone knocking and he immediately turned, a satisfied smile on his face. There was only one person who ever had entered without at least one knock - even if Morgana never had waited for his answer. "Merlin, what have you been doing? I do realize you've been gone awhile, but it is still your job to tend to me."
Merlin's smile was a small, fake thing as he tried for a normal voice and failed when he said, "Of course, sire."
Arthur's eyes narrowed swiftly, understanding the distance that was being attempted between them. He just didn't know why. "What's wrong with you, Merlin?"
He didn't bother to actually listen, noticing something odd about Merlin's hands concealed in the cloak as Merlin began, "Nothing's wrong, everything is fine, si - " He cut Merlin off by striding over, yanking one hand up to eye level. "Oh. Well. There is that."
His gifted Merlin with a scathing look before studying the bandaged hand with an experienced and mildly amazed eye. "Dear gods Merlin, this may be the worst job I've ever seen someone do on bandages. Don't tell me you did this?"
Merlin's disgruntled expression said yes, yes he had done it and Arthur jerked him closer (to look at the wound of course, the way Merlin half fell against him was just a nice benefit) and scowled at the bandaged hand. "Were you blind at the time?"
"It's a bit hard to do when they're both like that," Merlin grumbled, reluctantly holding up his other hand for inspection. It was equally as bandaged, except by the blood on it, that hand had been done first.
Arthur pressed his fingers into Merlin's first hand, trying to find where the wound actually was. Merlin sucked in a partially stifled breath of air as he pressed near the center and he gritted his teeth. "What happened?"
There was no room for argument there. Arthur added a serious glare to it when it looked like Merlin might try anyway. He folded grudgingly under the combined weight of the command and Arthur's stare. "I cut them. To do some magic with."
"Magic that needed you to bleed," he said flatly, tightening his grip before Merlin's pained grimace reminded him of where his hand was. He shifted his hand back to holding Merlin's wrist, studying the other man. "Why?"
"I wanted to protect Camelot," Merlin answered, too soft and serious to really be Merlin as he ducked his head, peering at Arthur through his eye lashes in a way that he had seen few times. Usually followed by Merlin trying to get himself killed or seriously telling Arthur he was a great king (and then going to get himself killed) but always, always they were about protecting Arthur and had little to do with Camelot.
"Merlin," he groaned, and couldn't find the words to say "I don't want you bleeding for me, dying for me, hurt for me" and instead crushed his mouth to Merlin's, the initial rough embrace gentling quickly as Arthur controlled himself, remembered patience and that time was now, finally, on his side. Coaxing Merlin into open his mouth was easy, he opened willing, gave himself willingly.
Arthur had them half way to the bed and Merlin's cloak was dropping to the floor when Merlin suddenly pushed him back, eyes flying opened and looked wild eyed and uncertain as he said with a wobbling, hoarse voice, "We can't."
Arthur frowned. That wasn't how this was supposed to go. "Yes, we really can."
"No," Merlin said more firmly and Arthur heart sunk and shattered. The dreams never played out this scenario. "It would be wrong."
"Wrong?" Arthur asked, incredulous and wondering just who Merlin had been with the past two years to incite those kind of thoughts. Lancelot was likely at fault - the gods knew Morgana was as shameless as they came. "I'm going to be king. This can't be wrong."
"I won't cause problems in your marriage!" Merlin exclaimed, fisting his hands at his side as his voice rose.
"That's good," Arthur said slowly. "Since I'm not getting married."
For a moment, Merlin looked terribly lost and Arthur took the time to place his hands back where they belonged, one scraping through Merlin's hair, the other at his hip, holding him close. "Don't be an idiot, Merlin. Why would I get married to some woman?"
For a moment, the other man looked adrift, as if he could no longer remember either and Arthur felt his heart begin to knit together as he slowly realized the problem wasn't him, the problem was, for once, it wasn'tArthur thinking of his duty. Merlin rallied himself, much to Arthur's disappointment. "Heirs. You'll need... babies. And the nobles will want an alliance."
"I will tell the nobles I am making a much better alliance," Arthur said, grinning slyly. "After all, a powerful sorcerer is a much better dowry than anyone could hope for. It's for the good of the kingdom really. You might get frustrated and destroy something in a snit otherwise."
"I have never destroyed anything in a snit," Merlin said feebly and Arthur promised himself to pick at Merlin later for that story because he certainly had. He still couldn't lie well.
"As for heirs," Arthur continued blithely, "there are many ways around that. Perhaps Morgana will have a child - she's related by our mothers."
"Is she?" Merlin asked, looking like he might be on the way to being convinced. He swallowed. "It's your duty - "
"To take care of my people," Arthur interrupted seriously. "Not to give up my own happiness or yours so that the nobles will be happy. Camelot will be better off with you at my side and in my bed than any woman. Nobles are terribly replaceable - my father taught them that during the Purges and I will reeducate them if needed. I am not getting married."
Merlin flailed half heartedly, gesturing between them. "We don't even know if this will work out. You shouldn't say that."
That protest was the worst of them and Arthur's lips curled up smugly. "Of course it will. You have been protecting me for years, laying down your life and mooning after me from afar." He waited a beat and spoke just as Merlin understood and the offended look bloomed. "And I am never letting anyone else touch you. I can be as loyal as you are, and I do not let go of things that are mine. There is nothing to work out - there is just us."
"And we've always been so easy," Merlin remarked dryly.
Arthur gave him a filthy leer. "Actually, right now I'm quite hard."
He punctuated that remark with a thrust of his hips and any further arguments were delayed (hopefully forever) for much more enjoyable activities.
Previous Part | Last Part
He stood on the ledge and blinked out at the cave. It was not what he had expected. Huge and dark - he could hear a distant river far beneath. He wondered if the dragon was fed - or if it lived off of magic and water, half starving beneath the castle. Anger churned in Arthur's gut at his father, an emotion that was becoming too common as the rift grew. It had cracked open at Morgana's disappearance, wider and wider as Uther blamed him for Morgana not being home and Arthur blamed his father for neither of them being able to come home. Or at least they must think so - he would fix that, when he found them. He would tie them each to their beds - or Morgana to hers and Merlin's to his own, depending on his mood at the time.
"Dragon," he called, the fury in his voice from Gaius' silence making his voice growl. "I, Arthur Pendragon, have come to ask of your knowledge."
"And I, Guinevere, daughter of the blacksmith and maidservant to Lady Morgana," Gwen added, her voice echoing down, down into the cave, this huge underground world.
Harsh, bitter laughter answered them. "Young Pendragon. This is something I did not see. Your other half denied me his presence after he killed Nimueh, except for once. Why do you come here when he would not?"
Nimueh. He knew that name. Killed - Merlin had killed her. He shoved it away and back, something else to ask Merlin about when he found him - he only left himself wonder briefly which of them had been targeted by Nimueh that time. Morgana, perhaps - she had said he wouldn't be killed by her hands. Merlin wouldn't kill unless she had done something awful, or was going to do something. He breathed in, breathed out, and asked, "You don't know where he has gone, then?"
There was a shift, metal clinking against stone and something heavy and large suddenly dropping from far above, a chain slinking down below it. Arthur stayed still and pretended he was as brave as everyone thought as he let Gwen grasp onto him, terrified, and her slid an arm around her protectively, ready to shield her with his body as the grand creature dropped onto the craggy outcropping in front of them, settling in as if it had been shaped for him. "He truly has gone then? He came to me just once, to have a theory of his confirmed. I was proud that he had begun to think of things for himself - but he would hear nothing else from me. I had hoped that my help would have encouraged him down here again. I did not think he would truly leave you, my king."
Neither did I, Arthur didn't say, instead snapping, "I am not king yet."
"You have always been king. The only king many of us, the creatures of the old way, will ever bow to. Some may choose the other path - but it is you that the stars have sung about for millennia, and it is you we have waited for. You and the boy." The dragon curled its tail about, sounding faintly amused and much less bitter than moments ago. It cocked its head, peering up and away. "He is a strange one. He has fought and defeated many parts of his destiny - but you he willingly gives himself to. The old ways will have to be content with that, since he and they are shifting everything else."
"They?" Gwen dared to ask, unwrapping herself from around him, taking a brave, hopeful step closer to the edge. She looked less frightened than he did, enchanted even and he wondered if there was something in the peasant class that gave them some sort of unwitting attraction to magical creatures. Those this was a far cry from the unicorn. "You know of my lady."
It was a statement, not a question. The dragon chuckled, a sound that resounded all around them, bouncing off the walls to echo louder into their ears. "The whole world can feel them as they move now. I had hoped they were still in Camelot, that the feel of them was when they left on missions. But it was a foolish hope. Druid, Seer, Knight - and Warlock." The dragon looked at them and inclined his head to Arthur. "King." Then to Gwen, "And Heart - once I would have said you were so much more - but now I am not so sure. In name, perhaps you will be. But in truth - so much even I did not expect."
"What are you talking about?" Arthur demanded, for once in his life not wanting the vague talk of court. "Speak plainly - surely you were not this way with Merlin, he never would have understood a thing."
"He often did not," the dragon replied, his eyes laughing at Arthur. "But I have said all but one thing, one hint if you so wish to find them - Wait for danger to come to you. They will follow at its heels."
"No!" Gwen cried before he could. "We need to find them."
"No," the dragon said. "They need to find you." It laughed as it threw itself into the air, the last words coming down to them as the chain slithered like a snake after it. "At least I will not be bored."
Arthur stared after it, processing. He knew it was up there, knew he could rage and scream and maybe three years ago, when he and Merlin had just met at the end of a glorious summer, he would have. But through two autumns and winters, another glorious summer and just one and a half springs he had changed - and two more summers without Merlin had taught him even more. Patience, for one, and when being a prat was worth it and when it would drive those he wanted near him away.
He looked at Gwen. "Winter will be coming again soon."
"Yes," she said, puzzling over him, her eyes sweeping his expression for a clue. "It will, sire."
He nodded thoughtfully, and led them back up the stairs, dousing his torch as they entered into the light of the castle dungeons. He waited until they were past the guards and up another flight of stairs before saying, "We should hurry if we want to get them home before winter. There are only so many magical creatures I can stir up before first snowfall."
"Didn't the dragon say wait?" Gwen asked, her eyes large and fingers trembling but not saying no, not even in that "I respectfully disapprove" way of hers.
"Yes, he did," Arthur agreed pleasantly.
He had learned to be patient when it was important, and when it was not and he would need to take it by force.
----
Morgana awoke not with a gasp but with a start, her mind grasping at the details she had dreamed and her throat croaking out a spell that made the parchment waiting for her fly into her hands. She rose up, sitting on the mattress and placing the parchment on the bench of the table near their "beds". As swiftly as possible, she wrote down the details. It wasn't often anymore that she had dreams that were so immediate - many times they had days, weeks, even months or, for a very few, years to prepare for. She wrote them all time, and tried to guess at the immediacy to them.
This one was soon - within days, and far enough away that they would need every bit of spare time to stop it. Magic had helped hone her ability, and Mordred, Merlin, and Lancelot had all spilled their blood with hers to keep her grounded and sane so when the more frantic dreams (like this one, she knew) would not put her wild and on edge, creeping closer to madness as they had slowly begun to when the Questing Beast had shown its face.
Despite how quiet she had been, the beds (mattresses on the floor, woven from straw because as hardy peasants as the boys were and as tough as she was, they did have the money and Merlin had gotten used to mattresses) were pressed tight together and Mordred had awoken from either the jolt of her body or thoughts, and Merlin wasn't far behind. Once he sat up, Lancelot stirred and by the time she had the basic details down, all of her boys were waiting for her (all but one) to finish. Her quill scribbled down one last detail before she drew back, rereading the hurried thoughts and landscape and then she glanced up, meeting Merlin's eyes. "We have to go. Arthur will need us."
"Are you sure this isn't one of his attempts to draw us out?" Merlin asked, more than a bit suspicious (and amused) of that now. Morgana sometimes wondered if the game they were playing was a very complicated flirtation between the two at this point. Arthur had to know they were the ones protecting them from afar and Merlin had to know that he knew.
Morgana looked at Mordred, studying the boy who was thirteen now, grown enough that the resemblance between him and the child he had been was barely visible. To her it seemed obvious - but to Uther, who had only seen druids... "Yes. It is time."
She saw all three of them glance at each other and she stood, a smirk growing at the look of trepidation and anticipation on Merlin's face, Lancelot's nervous excitement and Mordred's wide-eyed trembling. "We've been away from them too long."
"Are you sure?" Merlin asked, looking at her, waiting for her to indicate she had seen something, that her Sight was granting her this, and not just her own impulse, her own thoughts. She raised an eyebrow at him and cocked her head, smiling slow and wicked. It was all the answer he would get.
"I am glad we... acquired new horses," Lancelot said, fumbling over the true word, the stole that he wouldn't say. "I do not believe Carys will leave her filly."
"She shouldn't," Merlin agreed, quick to defend the newest member of their family. "She's still so tiny."
Morgana remembered the "tiny" filly gleefully stomping on a poisonous and mystical snake just last week and thought that Merlin could sometimes be a bit blind to the things he loved. The fact that the filly had been born pure white and blue eyed was stranger still, and all of them were very quiet about anything being wrong with the filly. As it turned out, she had been perfect - nothing less. She would have liked to blame it on Arthur's stallion, but more likely it had been their magic (and the fact that Carys had been constantly in the presence of it since shortly after her conception - really, it wasn't like anyone had told her that Arthur's stallion had broken out of his stall the week before she left and they had found her two hours after it was much too late) that had altered the filly slightly. Perhaps there would have been something wrong with her, or perhaps their magic had bleached the color from her. As it were, the filly was strong, and looked like she would be a credit to her sire's line, as well as her dam.
She wasn't afraid of magic at all, either. Privately, Morgana kind of wished she were older - she would be an excellent horse to ride under any sorcerer. The fact of it was, she was much too young. "We'll leave her and Carys here. We can have them brought in later, when we've made sure we can... When we're settled."
Mordred's expression tightened and she sighed at her misstep. He knew now that he was at least half the reason they stayed. Him, and the fact it had been... easier, in some ways, to dedicate themselves away from Camelot. But protecting Arthur from afar could only do so much, and Mordred was old enough. "We'll be fine," she assured him. "Arthur won't let anything happen to us. But we need to leave now. All of Camelot was in danger."
That spurred them on to action as little else could. She rolled up the parchment and stuffed it into the closest saddle bag, food following next, then a bedroll. Books were left behind - they were useless in battle - and weapons were taken up. All of them had swords now, and daggers, and she stopped Merlin from picking up the staff. "There will be too many people about."
Reluctantly, he let it go, leaning it back against the wall in its place near their beds. More than once he had rolled out of bed to grab staff first and twisted around to face whatever had woken him - only once had an intruder managed to get through their defenses, and the man had been half mad. The other times... Even Merlin was not spared his share of bad dreams. He laid a hand on the staff regretfully, and then moved off to saddle his horse - and likely would start on hers if she didn't hurry out there in time.
Despite that, she lingered in their tiny home, her eyes sweeping the small place. It hadn't been much, a place to shelter in during winter and in the night, but it had been as much of a home if not more than her chambers in Camelot. Here there had been no expectations and she had run roughshod over her boys with as much power as any King. Here they had thrown flour at each other when Merlin and Lancelot had fumbled through teaching them bread and half the flour had ended up on their clothes instead of in the ovens. Here - she would never see again as a home. She knew that, knew this was the end.
Soon, it would just be another hut - but no one else would ever live in it. Somehow, she knew that. It would forever be theirs.
She turned away and went through the door, her mouth already open to yell at Merlin before her eyes even registered him sheepishly tacking her horse. In some ways, this had been her home - in others, she traveled with her home, and soon she would be whole.
----
On the seven hundredth and thirty third day since Merlin had disappeared (and Merlin had officially been gone longer than he had been in Camelot, damn his stubborn hide) Arthur was backed up to a tree, right shoulder partially in front of Gwen and staring at the many, many gryphons wheeling in the sky like so many misshapen hawks. "I am beginning to think magic may have indeed played a part in the defeat of the gryphon," Arthur said gravely, a mischievous twinkle in his eye as he met Gwen's gaze.
"Just thinking that now?" Gwen asked, her hands white with the tightness of her grip on the hilt of her sword. "I think Sir Lucan's sword shattering on the one's hide would have been a clue."
"Sometimes I think the magical part of this world mocks me," Arthur said, very much aggrieved. It really wasn't fair at all. "Other kingdoms don't seem to have half as many magical problems."
"Other kingdoms also didn't kill off all their magicians, begging your pardon sire," Gwen answered, not really sounding sorry at all but more as if she was more than a bit exasperated with him.
He narrowed his eyes and glanced at her sidelong. "I still think it's not fair."
"Maybe you can tell them that?" she suggested sweetly and yes, Morgana had rubbed off on her - or maybe that was him. At least, that's what someone else had said. Someone who might have been very useful right then (marginally, slightly - not that Arthur had gone and grilled Gaius for every time his life had been saved by a certain someone or anything) if only he hadn't been frolicking off somewhere with Morgana for the past year.
"It seems I'll get the chance." He sighed and held out his sword, determined to die protecting her, even if the creature diving for them would likely only kill her shortly after. He would tell her to run, but he had learned that while Gwen seemed perfectly obedient and respectful she went conveniently deaf whenever he ordered her to do simple things like "Run" or "Not come after me when I jump into the lair of this three headed snake monster" and other such very ordinary commands.
It wasn't that she deliberately and obviously disobeyed or yelled at him like Merlin or Morgana - she instead gave off an air of puzzlement, as if he had never issued such a strange order. He had quite given up on getting her to leave his side in battle. Truly, at least it was a real friend at his side.
Just as the gryphon swooped down, its wings curling slightly, back arched and front claws forward like a stooping hawk, there was a flash of a sword to the side and suddenly a man was in front of them and the gryphon shrieking in angry fear, one of its wings somehow cut clean through so it writhed on the ground, screeching its bloody head off.
How did you do that, Arthur wanted to demand but instead Gwen went "Lancelot?" like it was the most incredible thing she had ever seen, as if he was the most wondrous, wonderful thing she had ever seen and he turned slightly, and yes, it was Lancelot. With a sword glowing with blue flame which was much more terribly important.
Arthur scrambled away from his tree, looking into the forest and not caring that his back was now to the gryphon. There was only one reason Lancelot's sword could be glowing that way. "Merlin? Merlin! Where are you?"
"He's coming, your highness," Lancelot said behind him, calm and polite as if there wasn't a fierce creature about to attempt to kill him. "He was a bit delayed."
"I have called him," a new voice said, both familiar and not and a boy stepped out of the woods, not yet a man grown but with the gangly limbs of one who was growing into himself. He held a short sword in his hand, as naturally as if he had been born to it. Arthur absently made a note to test him if they survived, for as good as Lancelot was, it wouldn't do to have the child be taught wrong.
"You're Mordred," Arthur mused. "I remember you. A bit smaller then."
"It has been a few years," Mordred said, in such a way and without tone that Arthur wasn't sure if the boy had meant that to sound insulting or if it was a simple statement. Then again, if he had been around Morgana and Merlin - "You really aren't terribly bright, are you?"
Arthur sighed and looked over at Lancelot - who was busy fighting the gryphon. He couldn't really be counted on for sympathy against subjects that were terribly disobedient anyway. He glanced back at the boy and waved his sword. "Can you do it then?"
The boy's eyes focused on their swords with such an intense look that it sent shivers down Arthur's spine. The answer came in the words of a spell, perfectly intoned, and the air seemed to shiver with the power of them. Arthur's sword began to glow blue, a warm feeling flickering at his core. He jerked a nod to the boy. "Thank you."
Then both he and Gwen were there, next to Lancelot and though he was annoyed, he wasn't surprised to see the child there, dodging and using his smaller mass to roll beneath the creature, thrusting upward. The gryphon screamed, throwing its head back and all three of them launched forward, swords sliding into the neck in unison for a killing blow - that made the gryphon explode. Arthur fell back, surprised at the sudden lack of resistance and could only think that it was much tidier than he had expected.
Then he looked up, where dozens more still flew. "One down."
"They aren't ours to worry about," Lancelot told him, lending him a hand up, his palm warm and callused. "Watch."
"I am - Oh." Arthur blinked as suddenly, one by one and then two by two the creatures fell from the sky. There seemed to be no reason for it - just suddenly they collapsed in midair and fell like a very awkward rain to land on the earth unmoving. He watched one as it crashed through the trees not far from them. "Are they dead?"
"No," Mordred answered. "Sleeping - for a hundred years."
"Just a hundred?" Arthur said. "I just don't know if that will be long enough. If we start now, and only kill one a year each... we'll still have killed them all before a decade has passed."
"Yes," Mordred agreed. "Next time I'll be sure to ask them for only five minutes. Then we can rush around trying to kill them all with glowing swords and hope your father doesn't see us. Would that be preferable?"
"My apologies, sire," Lancelot said, though his lips were twitching into a smile. "Merlin and Morgana may have influenced the child. Slightly."
"Slightly?" Gwen asked, a giggle to her voice he hadn't heard in too long. "I don't think they ever do things by halves."
"Quarters and wholes, really," a new, annoyingly cheerful and ever so welcome voice said. "Halves are just messy."
Arthur turned, studying the scrawny body standing there in clothes not terribly dissimilar to what he had worn before. Blue tunic, red neckerchief - the brown cloak instead of the jacket was new, but it was still cold at night so Arthur could allow him that. His hair wasn't even longer - in fact there was a sharpness to it that said it had been recently cut. There were no new visible scars - but that didn't mean he shouldn't look for them.
That was his intention as he stalked over, prowling forward like a cat on the hunt. Merlin watched him, nervous but not afraid, not wary, just waiting for him to come - until Arthur was in his face, hands on his shoulders, and forcing him back, step by step until his back was to a tree. Then there was confusion, but Arthur watched for anything else - no fear, no rejection. "Arthur, wh - "
That was what he had been waiting to hear, for years and it was entirely Merlin's fault that he jerked the other man's head back with a fierce grip in his hair and claimed his mouth with a roughness he might thought he might later regret as there was little sweet in it - just possessive and Yes, this. Except Merlin wasn't struggling, was pushing back, pushing into it, opening his mouth willing under him and Arthur trembled inside as he ravaged Merlin's mouth. One of them was making embarrassing noises but he was too busy working his other hand beneath Merlin's tunic (checking for scars of course, why else) to try and work out which of them it was. He decided it was Merlin because he would never be moaning so obviously from just a kiss - even if Merlin's hands were everywhere.
He actually snarled when a hand landed on his shoulder, glaring behind him at Lancelot's embarrassed face. "What?"
"Perhaps this can wait?" Lancelot suggested, and Merlin made a strangled noise that sounded a bit like a NO to him and Lancelot raised an eyebrow, looking past him at Merlin, despite him trying to shift to block his view because Merlin looked more edible than usual with his lips red and swollen and his body arched into Arthur's, eyes dilated and wide. The knight (or not really, Arthur knew, but he was at the same time) coughed and looked around. "Mordred is a little young to see this."
"Mordred was raised by druids," Merlin whined, but then sighed, dislodging Arthur's hands, despite the outraged glare he got. He had liked his hands where they were, thank you very much. "Arthur, there are probably things we should talk about before we - "
"No there aren't," Arthur cut him off. "You're a sorcerer, you've saved my life more than any one person has the right to, and you're coming back to Camelot if I have to tie you up to do that."
Merlin gave him a smirk that was uncannily like Morgana and said, "We can try the last one later, but really - trees aren't terribly comfortably."
"How do you know?" Arthur demanded and he wasn't being overly aggressive about this, no matter what Gwen's sigh behind him said. Just because he was already making plans to hunt people down meant nothing.
"I know because of right now," Merlin said and the sweet reunion part apparently just wasn't meant to be because already Merlin sounded like he was saying "you prat" and Arthur found himself highly annoyed and maybe a little amused.
Still... "I have a tent. Somewhere."
"And your father and a large group of knights that you were separated from that might think something is a bit suspicious when we come waltzing in right after the gryphons all fell out of the sky like - like - " Merlin paused, trying to find the words.
"Rain," Arthur offered, mostly so Merlin would go on speaking more and he could keep breathing the same air and telling himself Merlin was there and not another dream.
"Sure," Merlin said agreeably, not sounding like that had been what he was looking for but he went with it anyway. "And anyway, your armor is cold."
"You could take it off," Arthur suggested, leaning in for another kiss and thrilled when Merlin let him get away with it. This time he did it right, sweet and slow and felt his knees weaken a bit (it was the adrenaline levels dropping, the adrenaline) before he reluctantly backed away with a happy sigh he would eternally deny ever leaving his mouth. "I hope you have a gift for me. You have been gone for ages."
"The gryphons weren't enough?" Merlin asked, nudging at him impatiently so that he was forced (under protest) to actually not be breathing Merlin's air anymore and take a step back. And then another because apparently Merlin wanted room to stand or something silly like that. "I've never given anyone gryphons before."
Lancelot coughed and Arthur pointed at him triumphantly. "You gave Lancelot a gryphon!" Then he paused and narrowed his eyes, suddenly cutting the (possible traitorous and actually very shoddy) knight with a cold glare. "You were sharing his bed."
Lancelot actually went pale and Merlin groaned - and hit him upside the head. "I was not sleeping with Lancelot. You know, I thought Morgana was possessive of us, but its some silly noble thing isn't it? There's only one person in Camelot I want to end up in bed with, Arthur, and he's a great big prat who is ungrateful and shows no gratitude at all even though I saved his life again."
"Mordred bespelled my sword," Arthur sniffed, smiling at the boy who looked at him with bemusement, gaze going from him to Merlin as if they were the strangest thing he had ever seen. "Perhaps when I'm King he'll be Court Sorcerer."
Mordred blinked slowly, then looked at Merlin and in a small, apologetic voice said, "I'd actually rather be a knight."
There was a long, long pause and then Merlin said with a sigh, "I thought you might." Arthur found expectant, pleading blue eyes looking at him and Arthur was ready to say yes before he even knew what the question was. "I know he's probably not a noble, but Morgana's basically adopted him and maybe not right now and it could be too soon to be making plans for when you're king at all but - "
"Yes," Arthur answered, almost positive he knew what he was answering. "I was planning to open the knighthood up as it was once I am king. I'm sure Mordred will make an excellent addition by then, or at very least a squire if he is not yet ready."
Merlin beamed at him and Arthur didn't even trying to resist - he kissed him again, pulling the warlock toward him and not caring that Lancelot was probably blushing up a storm or Gwen squeaking behind him. All he cared about was -
"Finally," a voice muttered as Morgana appeared from the woods behind them. "I knew one of you would have had to do something when you saw each other again." She looked him up and down scathingly. "I suppose it only makes sense it was you. You always were more aware of your baser urges."
Arthur tightened his grip on Merlin's shoulder even as they drew away, keeping him close to his side, stung at the implication - but Morgana was smiling and here and he was, for once, too happy to pick at her. Not when Gwen was running into her lady's arms and interrupting anything he would have tried to say anyway. Disappointingly, they did not kiss. "I feel that is tragically unfair."
"Huh?" Merlin asked and Arthur looked from where the two women were standing to his warlock's expression which was arranged in a familiar expression of confusion - and not the fake one that he was sure he could now recognize if he saw it.
"Never mind," he said, his sigh that of one who had to endure many hardships, mostly including idiots who couldn't be bothered to keep up with his thought process. "We should go find the rest of my knights."
"Um," Merlin said, eyeing him. "Do you actually listen to the words that come out of my mouth?"
"Yes," Arthur answered immediately because he did, actually, want Merlin to not run off again and in one of Merlin's most serious moods he had told Arthur to listen so awful things (like Merlin disappearing) might happen if he said otherwise. "What did you say?"
"It might be suspicious," Merlin said slowly, like one did when speaking to a small and particularly stupid child, "if we were to appear now."
Arthur could see that. He could. Except - "No one will notice."
All five people standing near him stared. He shrugged, couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at them, feeling a thrill of belonging and deep seated contentment. "No one ever did, did they?"
"I don't think - " Merlin began to protest, but there was suddenly a knight galloping toward them and all of them stiffened - but the knight took little notice as he jerked his horse to a stop, pulling sharply on the poor beast's head.
Then as the horse panted the knight looked at him with wild eyes and it was Sir Lionel, one of the younger but scrawnier ones and with one of the faster horses. So it made sense he was used as a messenger but not what was so desperate about it all. "Sire - My prince. Your father is hurt."
Oh. Arthur blinked, slowly, wondering if this was the world's idea of balance, to get something back and have something else be taken away. His father should have stayed home - but a nest of gryphons, a small army of them had lured every fighter they had out in an attempt to defeat them and of course his father had come to defend his kingdom against invaders of the magical kind. Woodenly, he replied, "I will be right there. Let them know I am coming."
The knight wheeled his horse around. He could hear Mordred muttering suddenly, but it seemed unimportant as he stared mutely at Morgana whose eyes had gone wide, her face gone pale. Whatever problems she had with Uther, he could see in her eyes that this news shook her as well. Somehow, that didn't make him feel better, not even to see honest sadness on Merlin's face as he stepped away, leaving Arthur feeling bereft but also knowing this was a grief he could not share - even as Morgana ducked her head to hide it in Gwen's tunic, he knew he could not do the same.
"A horse," he said dazedly, looking around - and was surprised to find four coming toward him, none of them his. Except one did look faintly like the one he had given to Lancelot years ago, and another was definitely Morgana's. He looked in mute entreaty at Lancelot, whose horse was clearly the best for a fully armored knight.
"Take her, sire," Lancelot told him and gratefully, he did, freezing part way up and looking at the others. None of them had made a move toward their horses - but Gwen was still there. She would make sure they came, that they didn't disappear.
"I'll see you when you catch up," he said crisply, and it was a warning as well as a farewell. Morgana nodded tightly when he glanced at her, and Merlin said nothing at all. It would have to be enough.
The trees mocked him as he rode, and he did not know what he would find.
----
A week back in Camelot, and Uther was slowly getting worse. Morgana stared out the window, remembering a day long ago when she had done the same and shivered. She was not that person - she refused to be that person again after being able to escape the trappings of a lady for so long. She had worn a dress today - only to see Uther, in a brief period of time that he was awake. She had torn it off almost before the door was closed in her room, refusing to wear it a second longer, her mouth curling at the way it moved around her, so soft and meant for nothing but the most delicate of work.
The dress lay on the floor where she had left it. Gwen had returned to being her servant in name at least, but Morgana was uncomfortably with it now. Just a year and she saw things so differently - she would settle back in. She knew she would, just as Merlin must and Mordred and Lancelot would.
She was getting new chambers. She had already decided that. They all were. With connecting doors, possibly. Or at least some of them. Perhaps Arthur and Merlin with a connecting door - and Mordred between her and Merlin, and a connecting door between her and Mordred and Mordred and Merlin. They could learn to lock doors when something untoward was happening. It would happen - she was used to getting her way now, and she was sure Arthur could be bullied into something he wanted anyway.
It was easier to think of the future than the present, with Uther dying. The future held the Camelot they wanted, that they hoped for. The present held the reason it couldn't exist dying and them all mourning him despite it all. Even Merlin looked so full of sorrow when he had every right to be terribly angry.
The door banged open suddenly and she glanced up, surprised but not showing it as Arthur barged in, pausing at seeing her back in tunic and trousers. He cocked his head, and made a clinical show of looking her up and down, looking distinctly unimpressed. "You were wearing a dress just this morning."
"Yes," she agreed and drove the point home, "And I only shall again in Uther's presence. Never after except for special occasions."
She watched his face twist, his mouth open - and then shut, looking at her with eyes too thoughtful, too knowing. He didn't deny it - nor did he give her the nod she craved. Instead, somehow rousing the tone needed for command he demanded, "Where is Merlin?"
She waved her hand automatically in the direction she could sense him, not even following the length of her hand with her sight. "In that direction. Somewhere. Already having problems?"
"That gives me nothing! And we can't have problems if he isn't talking to me," Arthur complained, looking put out and the tiniest bit uncertain. "He's barely talked to me this entire week."
"Perhaps he is giving you time to grieve alone," Morgana mused, but her curiosity was peaked. She had seen much of Merlin - as had Lancelot and Gwen and Mordred, she was sure. Avoiding Arthur hadn't been something she had expected - she crossed to the door with eager strides and bright eyes. "Go to your chambers, Arthur. I'll find him for you."
"I do not need your help," Arthur insisted, but she didn't bother to reply, striding onward. She ignored the odd looks as she had ignored them the entire week as the castle passed her by. Even the servants stopped to stare at the lady, the woman who dared to not wear a dress. The castle passed in a blur, each step taking her closer to Merlin.
When her blood urged her up, she thought for an amusing moment Arthur had completely missed the obvious spot of the physician's quarters - but no, he hadn't. She went past them - up to the battlements where magic tingled through her senses. She drew a breath and nearly choked on it. Her hand shot out to catch her on the doorway as she swayed, surprised by the strength of it. This was not something she had expected - the tang of magic had been there, inside as well, but she had thought little of it, being so used to feeling it all around her. Their dwelling had been covered in it.
Now, so was the castle. It had felt so similar to home it wasn't until she saw Merlin, hands spread on the battlements that she realized. What had protected their home, where Arthur had not been, would only be a shadow in comparison to the strength Merlin would put in to protecting Camelot. She glided forward, feeling like she belonged here, on the battlements. She stopped by Merlin's side and studied his hands. "Blood magic."
"Binding magic," Merlin confirmed, too serious by far. "I pay attention, you know. To your dreams."
Blindly, she stared out, not seeing the town at all. "Yes. You would. Which one brought this on?"
"The ones of years coming," he said, quietly. "I know you only get glimpses - but there was more in what the druids wrote that confirmed them, added to them. Even without Mordred by their side, a power will rise."
"And Camelot could fall," she said, seeing it. The blood that would run through the streets haunted the few honest nightmares she had - brought on by a vague vision of the future. "You think this will prevent it?"
"It can't hurt," Merlin said, a note of brave cheer winding its way into his voice. Morgana watched him tremble, his eyes glowing gold as he started muttering a long stream of words. At the end, the wall seemed to ripple with gold. She was surprised that no one even looked up, didn't seem to notice at all. He sighed, and then slumped precariously forward, prompting her to grip his arm. He smiled weakly at her. "I had to do all four walls."
Eyes wide, she stared at the blood running into the battlements - but it was gone, part of the magic now and she quickly gripped one of his wrists. Turning it over, she could see the deep lines in his palm where he must have re-cut to keep the blood flowing. "Merlin - how long have you been up here?"
"Since before dawn," he said honestly, crooked smile doing nothing to assuage her worry. "I'm fine, really."
"Liar, she murmured, but let him lean on her anyway. She should take him to Gaius' chambers just below but - she didn't want to head down into the castle just yet. "Arthur is looking for you."
"Ah." Merlin winced, and it had nothing to do with the pain of his hands. "Is he?"
"You're avoiding him." She glanced at him and his expression was all the confirmation she needed. Idiot boys. "Why?"
Merlin sighed against her, his eyes growing dark and serious and she steeled herself against having to fight his stubborn nature. Usually, she could easily bully him, but when he dug his heels in... "We shouldn't... I was so happy to see him. But we can't, Morgana. Do what were almost did. He'll need heirs and a Queen and... it will kill me to have him and then not."
"You little fool." Morgana knew she should be calm but there was anger there, lashing out in the hiss of her voice. Idiotic, blind boy. "You think Arthur wants a queen? You think he will take a wife and just cast you aside?"
"I won't be the reason there are problems in a royal marriage," he snapped back and kept a firm grip on his arm as he struggled against her. She was glad that he was probably feeling a bit dizzy now. It made it easier to drive her point home.
"Then there won't be one," she snapped. "Gods, Merlin - you can think of so many other changes Arthur will make and be certain they'll come why is this such a problem?"
"He is king," Merlin insisted, and she didn't correct him on his present tense. "He needs heirs."
"Why?" she said crossly. "There are other lines - maybe not other Pendragon lines, but it was through his mother the line came. Or he can choose a young knight as heir when he grows old - it isn't unheard of."
"I won't keep him from his future. He deserves children." Merlin sounded like his heart was breaking and she wanted to throw him off the battlements for a moment from pure aggravation.
She took a calming breath. "He deserves to be happy. So do you. So do we all."
"The nobles will - " Merlin started doubtfully.
"Then we'll replace them!" she interrupted. "It hasn't been so many generations that most of them came from nothing! Arthur doesn't need them. He has the heart of the people, the knights, and us. If they try to rebel, it would take only a moments work to put a peasant in their place. The gods know you are more educated than half the nobles."
"I'm a little bit of an odd peasant," Merlin pointed out, seemingly undisturbed by her indication they could just easily replace the nobles. "I didn't even know I wasn't supposed to be learning how to read."
"I'm sure we can find a few other oddities," she said firmly, "Or younger siblings or cousins who have less problems with changes. Arthur does not need a Queen. And queen would be a farce - if politics made it essential, he'd be better off marrying one of us."
At Merlin's thoughtful look Morgana's look intensified into a glare. "Marrying one of us would also be dishonest. It would be a polite fiction everyone would see through. Do you really want to encourage that line of thinking, to put a lie forward to show everyone? Does that fit your view of what Arthur wants?"
He drooped depressingly and she clung to him just to make sure he didn't tip forward unintentionally. "No. No it doesn't. And I wouldn't - I wouldn't want to take from Lancelot anyway."
Morgana snorted, her lips curling upward into a vicious smirk. "You would be taking from me. Gwen would be the one to do it if it happened - I won't ever be a pretty piece in court again."
"Yes." Merlin grinned at her, twisting to look her pointedly up and down. "I had noticed your lack of dress. Kind of a relief. Familiar."
"And you with your cloak." She nodded at the brown cloak he still wore and wondered if he even took it off inside. "Even if I can't be a knight, I refuse to be helpless, or even pretend to be."
"Why can't you be a knight?" Merlin argued. "If a peasant, why not a woman? They all know you fight better than half of them anyway."
She studied him a moment, strangely amused. "Arthur must have a wife but women can be knights? Merlin, you are a strange one even now. Which do you think would bother the nobles more?"
He shook his head and straightened, scowling at her. "It's different."
"No," she said, and decided it then and there, seeing the blood drying on his fingers. "It's not. But I don't truly want to be a knight - it is different only in that sense. We cannot change people's minds through magic, Merlin. That does not mean we should give up our happiness because of what they may think." She touched her fingers to his lips as he opened his mouth to further debate the subject. "Go see Arthur. Now. He deserves to at least be told that you're making decisions for the both of you."
He flinched as if struck, and she was glad to see some of the determination had worn away into uncertainty. Morgana watched him go, feeling satisfied. She had rusted the armor he had on, and Arthur would slash through it. After that, they could make true plans for what they could and couldn't do. There were many ways to pass on a kingdom. Arthur did not need to follow in his father's footsteps.
----
Sometimes, Arthur wanted nothing more than to fall into his bed and bury himself in it, pretend that he was a child again and not Prince, acting King, and with a duty to his kingdom and a dying father. He leaned at his window, staring out at his castle, his courtyard. Gaius had confirmed there was nothing to be done for the King but a slow, drugged death. He was tempted to ask "Even magic?" but was afraid. Gaius had made it clear to all and sundry that the King was dying. If he even asked, and Merlin heard... he might try. Probably had. Which meant there was nothing to be done. But he might try harder if Arthur asked.
So he didn't. It helped that Merlin was nowhere to be found and Morgana, much like Mordred and Lancelot, seemed to have an unerring sense of direction as to where he was. All the time.
He didn't have that. Arthur wanted it. Instead he supposed once Merlin showed his face - supposing Morgana actually found him and they weren't all playing with him (Lancelot wouldn't, but the other two...) - he would have to get on that plan of tying him to Arthur's bed. It would be highly enjoyable for both of them.
The door opened without anyone knocking and he immediately turned, a satisfied smile on his face. There was only one person who ever had entered without at least one knock - even if Morgana never had waited for his answer. "Merlin, what have you been doing? I do realize you've been gone awhile, but it is still your job to tend to me."
Merlin's smile was a small, fake thing as he tried for a normal voice and failed when he said, "Of course, sire."
Arthur's eyes narrowed swiftly, understanding the distance that was being attempted between them. He just didn't know why. "What's wrong with you, Merlin?"
He didn't bother to actually listen, noticing something odd about Merlin's hands concealed in the cloak as Merlin began, "Nothing's wrong, everything is fine, si - " He cut Merlin off by striding over, yanking one hand up to eye level. "Oh. Well. There is that."
His gifted Merlin with a scathing look before studying the bandaged hand with an experienced and mildly amazed eye. "Dear gods Merlin, this may be the worst job I've ever seen someone do on bandages. Don't tell me you did this?"
Merlin's disgruntled expression said yes, yes he had done it and Arthur jerked him closer (to look at the wound of course, the way Merlin half fell against him was just a nice benefit) and scowled at the bandaged hand. "Were you blind at the time?"
"It's a bit hard to do when they're both like that," Merlin grumbled, reluctantly holding up his other hand for inspection. It was equally as bandaged, except by the blood on it, that hand had been done first.
Arthur pressed his fingers into Merlin's first hand, trying to find where the wound actually was. Merlin sucked in a partially stifled breath of air as he pressed near the center and he gritted his teeth. "What happened?"
There was no room for argument there. Arthur added a serious glare to it when it looked like Merlin might try anyway. He folded grudgingly under the combined weight of the command and Arthur's stare. "I cut them. To do some magic with."
"Magic that needed you to bleed," he said flatly, tightening his grip before Merlin's pained grimace reminded him of where his hand was. He shifted his hand back to holding Merlin's wrist, studying the other man. "Why?"
"I wanted to protect Camelot," Merlin answered, too soft and serious to really be Merlin as he ducked his head, peering at Arthur through his eye lashes in a way that he had seen few times. Usually followed by Merlin trying to get himself killed or seriously telling Arthur he was a great king (and then going to get himself killed) but always, always they were about protecting Arthur and had little to do with Camelot.
"Merlin," he groaned, and couldn't find the words to say "I don't want you bleeding for me, dying for me, hurt for me" and instead crushed his mouth to Merlin's, the initial rough embrace gentling quickly as Arthur controlled himself, remembered patience and that time was now, finally, on his side. Coaxing Merlin into open his mouth was easy, he opened willing, gave himself willingly.
Arthur had them half way to the bed and Merlin's cloak was dropping to the floor when Merlin suddenly pushed him back, eyes flying opened and looked wild eyed and uncertain as he said with a wobbling, hoarse voice, "We can't."
Arthur frowned. That wasn't how this was supposed to go. "Yes, we really can."
"No," Merlin said more firmly and Arthur heart sunk and shattered. The dreams never played out this scenario. "It would be wrong."
"Wrong?" Arthur asked, incredulous and wondering just who Merlin had been with the past two years to incite those kind of thoughts. Lancelot was likely at fault - the gods knew Morgana was as shameless as they came. "I'm going to be king. This can't be wrong."
"I won't cause problems in your marriage!" Merlin exclaimed, fisting his hands at his side as his voice rose.
"That's good," Arthur said slowly. "Since I'm not getting married."
For a moment, Merlin looked terribly lost and Arthur took the time to place his hands back where they belonged, one scraping through Merlin's hair, the other at his hip, holding him close. "Don't be an idiot, Merlin. Why would I get married to some woman?"
For a moment, the other man looked adrift, as if he could no longer remember either and Arthur felt his heart begin to knit together as he slowly realized the problem wasn't him, the problem was, for once, it wasn'tArthur thinking of his duty. Merlin rallied himself, much to Arthur's disappointment. "Heirs. You'll need... babies. And the nobles will want an alliance."
"I will tell the nobles I am making a much better alliance," Arthur said, grinning slyly. "After all, a powerful sorcerer is a much better dowry than anyone could hope for. It's for the good of the kingdom really. You might get frustrated and destroy something in a snit otherwise."
"I have never destroyed anything in a snit," Merlin said feebly and Arthur promised himself to pick at Merlin later for that story because he certainly had. He still couldn't lie well.
"As for heirs," Arthur continued blithely, "there are many ways around that. Perhaps Morgana will have a child - she's related by our mothers."
"Is she?" Merlin asked, looking like he might be on the way to being convinced. He swallowed. "It's your duty - "
"To take care of my people," Arthur interrupted seriously. "Not to give up my own happiness or yours so that the nobles will be happy. Camelot will be better off with you at my side and in my bed than any woman. Nobles are terribly replaceable - my father taught them that during the Purges and I will reeducate them if needed. I am not getting married."
Merlin flailed half heartedly, gesturing between them. "We don't even know if this will work out. You shouldn't say that."
That protest was the worst of them and Arthur's lips curled up smugly. "Of course it will. You have been protecting me for years, laying down your life and mooning after me from afar." He waited a beat and spoke just as Merlin understood and the offended look bloomed. "And I am never letting anyone else touch you. I can be as loyal as you are, and I do not let go of things that are mine. There is nothing to work out - there is just us."
"And we've always been so easy," Merlin remarked dryly.
Arthur gave him a filthy leer. "Actually, right now I'm quite hard."
He punctuated that remark with a thrust of his hips and any further arguments were delayed (hopefully forever) for much more enjoyable activities.
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