(Harry Potter/Merlin) A Blade To Her Throat Won't Work Pt. 1 for ariadnes_string
Title: A Blade To Her Throat Won't Work
Author: ansera
Fandoms: Harry Potter, Merlin
Characters Moaning Myrtle, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Mentions of Percy, Oliver and Draco; Merlin, Arthur, Uther, Guinevere, Morgana, Gaius, Owain, Ewan, Percival
Pairings: Merlin/Arthur
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 11, 744
Spoilers: Through 'Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows' for Harry Potter (The Epilogue is not included) and Season 1 of Merlin
Warnings: Slash
Disclaimer: Harry Potter nor Merlin belong to their respective creators.
A/N: I started off wanting to write the prompt for HP/Merlin, but this plot struck me and refused to budge. Thank you to runriggers for the beta, insanely_so for the awesome plot-hole-finding, and needed_beauty for being the best cheerleader ever. I hope you enjoy this ariadnes_string, thank you for the amazing prompts.
Summary: Something falls from the sky, and Camelot has to deal with the repercussions.
When it first fell out of the sky, people paid little mind to it, because unnatural occurrings were quickly becoming part of the day-to-day life in Camelot, and no one could afford to spend time worrying about them.
They regretted it later.
+
Guinevere Smith walked along the streets of Camelot, smiling at those who knew and greeted her. She made the familiar trek to the public bath house -a large building near the corner of the kingdom, out of the way so that those of royalty need never set their eyes on it. She stopped outside it, pumping a little water on her hands to clear it of the grime and dirt that had gathered there after finally cleaning out the house.
She opened the door and stepped in, and then ran out screaming moments later.
A keening wail that would quickly become familiar to the citizens of Camelot followed her.
+
“Arthur, I assume that you will handle this disturbance?” Uther Pendragon asked his son, face a cool mask.
Arthur nodded, sparing a glance for where Morgana and Merlin were attempting to calm down the obviously distraught maid girl of Morgana’s -Gin or Gen or something, the girl’s name was- before turning back to the King. “Of course, Father.”
From the girl’s account, whatever was in the building -and Arthur inwardly cringed at the thought of actually having to enter the area- was of little harm. It had done nothing the whole day except, according to the lengthy reports that had been collected, cry.
He knew not to underestimate sorcery though, and clenched his jaw.
Merlin was looking at him with an expression of worry that was a little more concerned than the usual one that he wore, and he kept sneaking glances at Gaius and the maid girl in turn when he thought that no one was looking. Arthur spared a second to wonder if his manservant was hiding something from him but quickly discarded the thought; the fool couldn’t keep a secret to save his life. Well, he amended his thoughts; he could, just not from him, anyway.
He turned back to his father and caught the last part of his speech -“Make it clear that magic will never be allowed in Camelot.” The usual, then, he thought slightly dryly, resisting the urge to slouch in boredom or the like. “I expect you to get rid of the creature soon, and anybody who interferes with your mission will be suspected of sorcery and treated as such.” Arthur kept the frown off his face with some effort. He did not think it particularly fair to kill everyone based on nothing but a hunch, but it was not his kingdom to rule.
Yet.
He shook his head slightly and tried to look more attentive. His father was still speaking, and Arthur knew without even listening that he was preaching the importance of obedience, the danger of magic, and quite possibly the idiocy of those who chose to accept or, heaven forbid, use magic. His father nodded, and Arthur straightened.
“Of course, Father,” he said on rote, “I will gather some of the knights immediately.” He gave a stiff, formal bow before walking towards the maid girl.
Merlin was already making his way to him. “Are you sure you can kill the creature?”
Arthur didn’t bother him with an answer. “What’s the girl’s name?”
“Who, Lady Morgana?” Merlin asked dumbly.
“No, you idiot, the maid girl, your friend,” Arthur hissed.
“Oh, Gwen, well, Guinevere really, but everyone calls her Gwen-”
“Guinevere,” Arthur said smoothly, allowing the corners of his mouth to turn up in a smile. Morgana glared at him as he approached and Arthur knew she saw right through the facade. “I was wondering if you would tell me exactly what it is that you saw?” He phrased it as a question, but it was undoubtedly an order.
Guinevere breathed harshly. “I- I don’t know what it is. It just this white,” her face crumpled, “thing. It was just white, everywhere, no other colour. I’m sorry,” she shook her head, lowering it; “I didn’t get a very good look at it.” Arthur nodded and made to speak when she continued, her voice shaking slightly but steady enough for Arthur to admire her courage. “I swear, though, it was- it was as if it were a person and I could almost, almost see right through it, like one of Morg- I mean, Lady Morgana’s thinner fabrics. I could look through the white, I saw the walls clearly and-” she broke off, Morgana’s hand stroking her back soothingly and Arthur took it as his cue to leave.
He had never heard of such a creature but hid his doubt. “Thank you for your assistance,” he said formally, nodding at Morgana before turning on his heel. “Definitely magic, then,” he muttered when they were out of earshot. “Either that or Gin’s lost it.”
“It’s Gwen and she’s perfectly sane,” Merlin said hotly.
Arthur didn’t know why Merlin thought he would even try to remember a commoner’s name. He had better things to do, to remember. “Either way, we should be preparing ourselves for a magical creature, make sure the knights get the message.”
“Yes, Sire,” Merlin said.
“Has the lower town been quartered off?” he asked sharply.
Merlin nodded. “A few more people had entered the building before the knights got there, so Gaius is attending to them.”
“It has the ability to hurt people then,” Arthur thought aloud. Merlin gave him a strange look at his words and he inwardly winced -if it was of magic then of course, it could cause harm. It had to cause harm. As son of the king he shouldn’t even be thinking otherwise, much less be verbalising it in front of anyone -even Merlin, whom he trusted explicitly. It was treason.
“No, actually,” Merlin said, not commenting on his words, for which Arthur was grateful. “As far as I can tell, they’re just shocked. But otherwise, no one has been physically hurt.”
“Why?” Arthur asked, honestly puzzled.
Merlin shrugged. “It doesn’t hurt people, maybe?”
“It’s magic,” he said, as if that meant that it had to hurt people, although he said it more because it was expected of him than because of any real belief in the view himself. He shook his head. “Prepare for a highly dangerous and unstable creature, we are only going to find out what the creature is before readying ourselves for an attack.”
“Of course, Sire,” Merlin nodded.
“Have you prepared the horse and informed the other knights to stand on guard until I arrive?”
Merlin looked slightly offended that he thought him that incapable of doing his job. “Of course I did.”
“Good,” he said quickly. “We must identify the creature in order to kill it,” he said, long strides leading him outside quickly.
+
Arthur stood in front of the building with his brow furrowing slightly. He was surrounded by the other knights on all sides, with Merlin closest to him out of habit more than anything. He wondered faintly why it was that while all of the knights were suitably covered with armour, Merlin could feel safe in his threadbare trousers and shirt and that ridiculous red scarf. Why Merlin never complained about it either.
He didn’t think on it too hard. Merlin was a servant, his life was inconsequential compared to that of his knights.
That didn’t explain why he moved slightly closer to the man, though.
The creature could be heard clearly, long and high-pitched keening noises that led Arthur to believe that it was female, if magical creatures indeed had genders, of course. The whole area was startlingly empty, all the citizens in the area brought further out so that the area around the building was empty of people who could get caught in the crossfire. It was strange, he decided, the city being so silent.
He cleared his head with a quick shake and walked closer, his sword held out before him, the polished edge reflecting the light of the sun. He crooked his fingers, and Owain and Erec moved to the back, with the other knights surrounding the area. If the creature attempted to escape, it would be surrounded. He approached the door warily, trying to keep himself as quiet as possible.
He opened the door, making the hinges creak ominously, and stepped in with Gawain and Percival behind him. He looked round. The sound had ceased the moment the door had opened and he didn’t know where the creature was or even what it was, making it impossible to launch any sort of attack.
Arthur turned swiftly at what he thought was movement but saw only his reflection in the slightly dirty mirror. Percival opened the door of one of the stalls and Arthur nodded, and Gawain and Constantine opened the other two. They were all empty. Arthur frowned. They had all the exits covered. Unless the creature had the ability to make itself invisible or pass through the door, it had to be here somewhere.
If only he knew exactly where.
Merlin walked slightly ahead of him, ignoring the crook of Arthur’s finger that he had created just for Merlin and translated into ‘Stay behind me, fool’. Arthur rolled his eyes when the man continued walking towards the mirror. Then he froze, tilting his head upwards.
He let out an extremely manly squeak as a white apparition came towards him. A body shoved against his and he only registered Merlin when they both fell onto the hard ground with a dull thud. “Merlin,” he growled darkly.
“Necessity, Sire,” he said, before lunging out of the way, pushing Arthur in the opposite direction, as the thing came towards him. Arthur grabbed his sword and tried to swipe at it, but it rose quickly, too quickly for him to look at it properly.
The other knights stood a while before lunging for it, each of them missing more spectacularly than the one before.
Whatever this thing was, it moved fast. Unnaturally fast.
“And we still don’t know what the hell it is,” Arthur cursed.
“At least we know that it flies,” Merlin offered with a half shrug, Arthur’s sword in his hand. Strangely, it didn’t look out of place on him, and Arthur frowned slightly before reaching out to take it.
“Well, since it’s flying we can’t kill it-”
The thing flew down, and Arthur moved back, falling onto the ground, shouting for everyone to escape because there was no way they could hit the creature without an archer or two. His sword flashed in the dim light as the creature flew right above him, and he sliced neatly through it before staggering out.
Merlin was right next to him, and only when they were a few buildings away did they stop running, and the loud screams could be heard over the sounds of their harsh breaths. Arthur looked around, running a practised eye over his men and ending with Merlin, speaking only when he had ascertained that they were all unhurt.
“Everyone return to the castle,” he ordered, and the knights paused without moving.
“Sire?” Percival asked. “What-”
“We will discuss that creature when we are at the castle,” he snapped, and the knights left slowly, leaving only him and Merlin and those awful sounds ringing in her ears. “Why isn’t it dead?” he growled, not hiding his frustration from his manservant.
The man shrugged uselessly. “Maybe you missed?” He glared and Merlin hastily corrected himself. “Maybe it flew away before you could hit it?”
Arthur was still displeased, the force of his glare not subsiding, but he heard Merlin let out a sigh of relief as he directed his glare to the building which the creature occupied. He swore that his sword had sliced it, but, obviously, it hadn’t worked.
“Did you get a good look at it?” he asked.
Merlin shook his head. “It was white,” he offered obviously. “And it can fly at supernatural speeds. But it had the chance to hurt us and no one was hurt. I doubt anyone was even touched by the creature.”
“It is trying to scare us out of Camelot, then,” Arthur said frowning.
Merlin opened his mouth to speak, and Arthur knew that that wasn’t what he was aiming at, but closed it again, sensing the futility of it.
“Well, we will not leave,” Arthur continued. “Have the people stay out of the area, we will return with reinforcements at dawn tomorrow.” He turned and walked away.
“Oh, thank you for saving my life, Merlin. Why, you’re welcome, Arthur, so nice to be appreciated,” he heard Merlin grumble behind him and hid his smile.
+
Two days later, it was confirmed.
The creature did nothing besides moan and screech. It did not appear to need sleep, and Merlin knew the fact pointedly because the lack of sleep was taking its toll on Arthur, which meant he was getting the full force of it. He was ready to face the creature and kill it himself, except that they had had archers shooting at the creature, and it seemed impervious to attack.
Arthur fell back onto the bed.
“The creature refuses to die,” he announced to the room, empty except for Merlin.
Merlin frowned. “I’m sure it will, we just need to figure out what it’s weaknesses are.”
Arthur tilted his head up a fraction. “We?”
Merlin turned red. “I mean, you. You need to figure it out. I’m just here, doing nothing, I don’t know what it is, and I can’t figure it out. Don’t know anything magic, nope.”
Arthur’s brow rose with some curiosity, but he shook his head and dropped his head back down. “Shut up, Merlin.” Merlin shut up. “It doesn’t matter how we do it, but that thing has to be killed or Father will kill me.” He didn’t have a trace of humour in his tone, and Merlin looked at him with an expression of slight worry.
“The King is-”
“Displeased with his son? The understatement of the century,” Arthur smiled self deprecatingly.
“Arthur,” Merlin said softly. “Is there any way I can help?”
“Yeah,” Arthur raised himself so that he was leaning on his forearms. “You could find a way to kill the thing.”
Merlin hesitated, and Arthur thought he saw something in the other man’s face -just a flash of knowing and guilt and pride that disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. “I’ll try,” Merlin said, and Arthur’s surprise must have been evident on his face, for he continued, “We all will,” and that made much more sense.
Except, Arthur thought that Merlin meant it differently.
+
“Hello?” Merlin called out.
He had searched the book, and Gaius had helped him, and they had found references to the creature. Vague descriptions of whiteness and death that didn’t make much sense to either of them. There hadn’t been any mention on how to kill it either, he didn’t think anyone had actually achieved that particular feat yet.
The area hadn’t been difficult to get into; the guards were easy enough to fool. Sometimes, Merlin thought that he should advise Arthur on how to improve the protection of Camelot, but that would only make it harder on him to get around, so he decided to leave it be. Not to mention the fact that Arthur would take immense offense. And he probably wouldn’t believe Merlin, anyway.
He closed the door behind him, eyes lifting upwards to the ceiling. It was empty of white apparitions.
He looked forward and saw it.
Half an inch away from his face.
It was only the fact that someone would find him that kept him from screaming. As it was, he let out a small squeal, clutching a hand to his chest. Then he looked up again to find the creature in the exact same position, and that’s when he took in its appearance completely, and frowned with more than a little confusion.
“You’re- human?”
It looked partially human. It looked human, a female, face wide, with glasses on her face like Gaius had, except with larger frames. She wore -and Merlin blinked again-a long robe, and a tie peeked out from the top. Her expression looked like a cross between mournful and hopeful, eyes widened innocently, hair falling from where it was tied at either side of her head. But she was also entirely white, and like Gwen had described, he could see right through her to the mirror behind.
She had no reflection.
“No,” the girl said, face scrounging up in an expression he had seen on the girls in the village, and he held up his hands in a non-threatening fashion.
“Don’t cry,” he asked, because human or not, he didn’t want to make people, girls, cry. His mother had raised him better than that. “I’m Merlin, who are you?” he asked politely, mainly to take her attention away from any tears that might spring up. The fact that he was talking to a creature in a civilized fashion didn’t escape him.
“Of course,” the girl flew up, and Merlin’s eyes bulged slightly. She had feet, and yet she was flying. “Nobody knows me,” she sniffed. “I’m Moaning Myrtle,” she said, in a sing song manner, drawing out the syllables. Merlin thought the name was apt considering what the creature had been doing for the past few days, but he wisely didn’t say it. He sensed that she would start crying again.
“Well, it’s- uh, nice to meet you?” he said, ending it in a question, because what was he doing, talking to a magical creature? The King would kill him if he heard of it. Then again, the King would kill him if he even caught a hint that he practiced magic, so it wasn’t much of an added threat, really.
“Nobody wants to meet me. They just leave me up here, tease me about being Moaning Myrtle,” Myrtle whined, and Merlin understood why no one wanted to meet her -the thing was annoying after a minute. If people had to spend more than ten minutes with her, they might very well lose their sanity. He didn’t say anything, and Myrtle continued, apparently used to having one-sided conversations. “And it’s even worse in this place. People keep running away from me and screaming and they won’t even look at me. Do you have anyone to talk to? Because things can get very boring when you have no one to talk to.”
“Well, I have Gaius, he’s- uh, my uncle, and Arthur. He’s,” Merlin paused.
“He’s?” Myrtle prompted.
“He’s Arthur,” he shrugged.
“He’s your Arthur?” Myrtle asked, smirking slightly.
Merlin blushed. “He’s not my Arthur, he’s the people’s Arthur, the Prince. He’s just Arthur.”
“The Prince, huh?” Myrtle flew up. “What is this place? It’s not Hogwarts, for sure, I mean-” her face scrounged up, confused and almost child-like in her lack of knowing. Merlin softened. Then her face hardened, “Where am I and how do I get out of here?”
“Well, you’re in Camelot and, well, since I don’t know how you got here I don’t think you can just go back to this Hog-place,” he said and was about to ask what the Hog-place was when Myrtle cut in.
“But how will I get back?” she asked, panicking.
“Uh- I don’t know, maybe,” he stopped, because he didn’t think Myrtle wanted to hear the words ‘you can’t’.
“But, everyone I know is in Hogwarts,” Myrtle said sadly.
“So,” he said quickly, changing the topic, “you did know people who were just people?”
“Harry would come sometimes, but then he left the school and killed You-Know-Who,” she dropped her voice for the last bit, as if conspiring with him against something.
“Excuse me, but, who?” he asked.
“What?” Myrtle’s mouth dropped open slightly.
“Who is it that I know?” he prompted.
Myrtle snapped her mouth shut, and then flew down next to him. He almost flinched, but he felt nothing next to him. When she spoke, he felt no breath, just the emptiness of air. “You don’t know You-Know-Who?”
Merlin picked up on the capitals this time. “Well, what’s his name?”
“Well,” Myrtle smiled weirdly, and it took Merlin a moment to realise that she was trying to be shy. His face paled at the implications. “You-Know-Who, we can’t say his name-”
“I thought you said, er-” he searched for the name, “Harpy or whoever had killed him?”
Myrtle’s eyes narrowed. “What did you call Harry?”
He winced, she was a protective creature over this Harp- Harry, he reminded himself, it wouldn’t do to confuse the name twice. “Harry, I called him Harry,” he said quickly. “He killed this I-Know-Who?”
“Who?” Myrtle frowned with confusion.
“I-Know-Who,” Merlin expanded. “Harry killed it, right?”
“Who?” Myrtle repeated, and then her face cleared. “Oh, you mean You-Know-Who,” she said with an amused smile.
Merlin was annoyed, “That’s what I said.”
“No, it’s You-Know-Who, not I,” Myrtle explained. Merlin almost rolled his eyes, but he didn’t want to offend the creature further. He stared at her pointedly. “Yes, Harry killed him, but, it’s not safe to say his name,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Why not?” he asked.
She frowned. “Because,” she said, as though it explained everything. “He’s You-Know-Who.”
“If he’s dead, it’s not like he can come back from the dead, right?” Merlin shrugged. “When you’re dead, that’s it.” Myrtle looked insulted and he wondered what he had said this time. “What?” he asked plaintatively.
Myrtle looked at him pointedly. When he looked at her without changing his expression, she let out a wail and floated in the air. He took that as his cue to run away.
+
“You did what?”
Merlin figured that Arthur’s outburst was to be allowed, since he had done something more dumb than usual. They were in Arthur’s room, because he had expected the yelling and his quarters seemed the safest area to be yelled at. The safest area for him to tell Arthur that he had faced the creature and had survived unscathed, without any mention that he had used magic or was magical.
“Of all the stupid things you have done, Merlin, this is by far the stupidest,” Arthur said, pacing across the room. “The icing on the cake, crème of the crop, the leader of the team, the-”
“I get it, Arthur,” Merlin snapped, because Arthur had already been going on like this for 5 minutes and lectures got really old really fast.
“If you do, why do you keep doing it?” Arthur asked, voice loud enough that Merlin hoped no one was in any of the rooms within a twenty feet radius. Arthur’s eyes were blazing, dark and narrowed and so focused on Merlin that he knew he wouldn’t be able to escape it if he tried. Arthur’s fists were clenching and unclenching on either side of him, and Merlin knew that if he said the wrong thing now Arthur might break a bone punching a wall, since he would never actually hit Merlin.
“I got to know it,” Merlin said valiantly, seeking an escape from the situation. “I mean, you wanted to find its weaknesses right?” Arthur opened his mouth, a retort on his tongue, and Merlin continued quickly. “And I did, I mean, I know that sh- it’s lonely, and that it has a human form. I know that it’s made of air or something, so nothing can actually physically kill it. And,” he paused, unsure on whether to add the last point, “I don’t think it’s here to hurt anyone.”
Arthur’s expression froze. “It’s magic,” he spat. “Of course it intends to hurt people. Even if it doesn’t, the possibility still remains-”
“But if we can’t do anything to it, then it can’t do anything to us, right?” Merlin asked.
Arthur scoffed. “Don’t be naive, Merlin. That’s like hiding your face behind your hands -if you can’t see him, he can’t see you,” he mocked harshly.
“But it’s not corporeal, it doesn’t- exist,” he stumbled on the words, uncertain on how to phrase his thoughts.
“No buts, Merlin,” Arthur said forcefully. “This creature must be killed at all costs. Your King will not have it any other way.”
“I’m not asking the King, I’m asking his son,” Merlin said, frustration evident in his tone.
Arthur’s face softened for a moment, and he shook his head. “There is no difference between the two, Merlin. You should know that by now.”
Merlin kept silent, but his reply to that was clear on his face.
+
“How’re you feeling?” Merlin asked gently, looking around at the Knights -most of them dead on their feet, tired after too few hours of sleep in too many days-and then back at Arthur. He looked the worst. Not surprising since he was working the most. Merlin didn’t need to wonder what Arthur was doing, the rumours flew through Camelot unbidden, tales of the Prince Arthur who had used his best archers and his best knights to no avail.
There were tales of the creature, how it took the form of a female child, one who cried about her past to anyone who would listen; one who wailed to the skies on a daily basis. There were tales of the fury of the King, how his voice had carried throughout the halls of the castle to reach maids and servants who were more than willing to share his words. There were tales of the weariness of everyone involved with destroying the creature, especially the Prince.
“I’d feel better if it left,” Arthur said snappily, swallowing the contents of the small vial Gaius had provided without even wincing at its taste, too familiar with the bitterness.
Merlin’s face softened. “Maybe you should try using ‘her’ instead of ‘it’?”
Arthur let out a laugh that held no humour. “Then I’d feel better if she left.”
Merlin winced. “Perhaps you should rest, let all of them rest too,” he tilted his head towards the other Knights. The moment Arthur’s eyes landed on them they straightened, polishing their swords or testing the strings of their bows or doing something to make themselves look like they were actually doing work.
“We need to kill the creature,” Arthur said monotonously.
Merlin smiled, sensing victory. “You can’t do that if you’re half asleep,” he pointed out. Arthur looked up at him, and then smiled, with an emotion he couldn’t place -not happiness, but not annoyance either, which was a plus in his books any day. Arthur hesitated and Merlin laid a hand on his shoulder, “Come on, the bed’s been made for days, I think it wants you back.”
Arthur grinned. “If I get into a made bed it’s only going to get messy.”
“But that’s the fun,” Merlin laughed. “Don’t lie, that’s why you keep making us make the bed, so that you can sleep for ten minutes and make us do it all over again.”
Arthur didn’t deny it, the tension in his body slowly leaving. “Maybe I just like sleeping, and it doesn’t matter if the bed’s made?”
“So you won’t mind if I don’t make it tomorrow?” Merlin asked cheekily, ducking before Arthur’s hand could reach the back of his head.
“It’s not like you do it now, anyway,” Arthur retorted lightly, stretching his hands above his head. Merlin’s eyes dropped to the stretch of skin that showed before looking away. Arthur didn’t comment on the action. If he did, Merlin would never do it again. He didn’t know why that was such a horrid thought, but it was.
“I do,” Merlin protested when the silence stretched just a little too long.
Arthur didn’t say anything, but he walked over to where Percival was standing -as alert as ever, Arthur wondered if he ever slept sometimes-and told him softly, “Can you stay?” He knew it wasn’t fair of him to ask, but he also knew that he was a few years older than Arthur and would be more than capable of handling matters here. Percival nodded once, eyes staying fixed on the building. He turned to the other Knights, who looked at him, not hiding the anticipation in their eyes, and when he nodded, it was a rush to see who reached their bed first.
He turned back to Merlin, who grinned and tilted his head towards the castle.
Arthur smiled, and walked towards his room with Merlin by his side. Faintly, he thought that it was a pity that Merlin left for his own room at the doorway.
+
“Maybe I should-”
“No, Merlin.”
“But if it’s the only way-”
“It’s not.”
“I don’t see you coming up with any bright ideas-”
“I’ll figure it out.”
Merlin huffed angrily. “Your Father wants you to kill this thing, right? We can’t do that-”
“We aren’t doing anything,” Arthur bit out, not looking up from the map in front of them. Five days and the creature had proven that it was impervious to attack. A siege might work, though. Not likely, was the thought of all the Knights, but the King was insistent. “I’m going to kill this thing, and you’re going to stay behind me.”
“You can’t kill it,” Merlin said, voice not so much angry as weary. Having the same argument throughout the afternoon did that to a person.
Arthur’s eyes lifted at that. “Can’t I?” His voice was low, dangerous, daring Merlin to doubt him.
“The thing can’t be killed,” Merlin said, for the umpteenth time. “But if you let me-”
“No, Merlin.”
“But it’s the only way-”
“It’s not.”
“You still don’t have any new ideas-”
“I’ll figure it out.” Arthur sounded as tired as Merlin, if not more. Merlin softened, all the Knights had been working with too little rest these days. He shook his head; the King was going to kill them before they could even fight the thing.
“Let me try,” Merlin said slowly.
Arthur’s eyes closed. “It will kill you, Merlin.”
“It didn’t the last time,” Merlin said, keeping his voice steady, calm.
“Only because you still had some sense and ran away before it could,” Arthur said, and before Merlin could protest, he continued. “I know that it seemed friendly, Merlin, but that’s what these things do. They pretend to be your friend and then they kill you when you’ve turned your back.”
“Sounds more like a human then a creature, then,” Merlin muttered.
Arthur grinned at that. “Humans can be creatures, sometimes,” he agreed.
“This creature was different,” Merlin tried, not letting Arthur change the topic.
“It’s magical, Merlin, just how different could it be?” Arthur asked rhetorically. Merlin bit his lip, not meeting Arthur’s eyes. Arthur frowned at his actions, and then shrugged it off, he had no time to think too much on Merlin -his Father wanted results, and he had a day to make something happen before the King took over matters himself.
A burst of noise from the building and they both turned, Arthur’s knife in his hand.
“She’s just crying again, Sire,” Ewan said, rubbing his eyes. “Percival sent another arrow through her.”
Arthur sighed.
“Are you sure you don’t want me talking to her?” Merlin dropped his voice to a near whisper. “You can come with me, we’ll see how things are. And if it doesn’t work, then no one will know about it.” Arthur looked up. “If it helps us kill the creature, your Father won’t mind, will he?” Arthur frowned slightly, considering the matter. “We have nothing to lose, this creature has to die. The end has to be worth the means, right?” Arthur nodded slowly.
Merlin grinned, but stifled it when Arthur’s expression became annoyed.
“Fine,” Arthur said. “But we do it late, under the cover of night, when no one can see us.” Merlin nodded, his grin just a tad too wide when he walked away.
+
Arthur was distracted for the rest of the evening. He told himself that it was the creature doing the distracting, not Merlin.
He was lying.
+
Arthur’s eyes flew open.
He could hear something. They were sleeping near the building, the area still quartered off, and there were only a handful of Knights there. Percival had left for the night, Lucan and Por called away to secure the security of the castle and the higher town, which left Ewan and Owain on guard duty, although they were both asleep now. Or so he had thought, anyways.
Someone was definitely awake. And doing things that they had no right doing at a time of trouble.
He sat up slowly, hearing the small whimpers that were deafeningly loud in the silence, noises that he himself made when in bed at the castle, or when there was a woman in his bed. There was a moan, soft, and he had to strain to hear it, although he didn’t know why he wanted to hear it at all. It was coming from the left, and the only person in that tent was-
“Arthur.” The name was softly said as well, with an obvious hitch of breath accompanying it.
Then there was silence. A long silence that he felt pressing down on his ears like his Father’s crown or all the horses in the stable. He bit down on his lower lip, feeling an all too familiar stirring in him, and shook his head in an attempt to get rid of the images that invaded his mind.
“Arthur?” This time, his name was said as a question.
He looked over and saw Merlin’s figure, and then flushed darkly, thanking the darkness for hiding it from Merlin. “You,” he cleared his throat when hearing how shaky it was, “You’re ready?”
“Yeah, hurry,” Merlin whispered, and there was the sound of shuffling feet as he moved away.
Arthur took a few breaths to calm himself before standing up, picking up his sword easily. He stood up, stilling when he heard Owain twist in the tent on the other side. Another stretch of silence before he stood up, walking out of the tent and almost hitting Merlin. “Move, you idiot,” he hissed, knowing that he was being harsher than he had intended, but considering Merlin’s earlier actions it was completely warranted.
“Sorry,” Merlin whispered, moving towards the building.
Arthur walked a little faster until he was a step ahead of Merlin. No matter how idiotic the man was, he was one of Arthur’s people and he wouldn’t let him die in Arthur’s stead. The moon was bright enough for Arthur to see Merlin rolling his eyes. “Prat,” Merlin muttered under his breath, and Arthur smirked.
“What was that?” he asked.
Merlin looked up. “I said prat,” he said without the slightest hint of apology. Arthur wasn’t surprised. He stopped outside the door of the building. Merlin’s shoulder nudged his. “We’ve got to do this. Don’t worry,” he could hear Merlin’s grin, “I’ll protect you from the small untouchable girl.”
Arthur couldn’t stop the corner of his mouth from turning up, and opened the door. He had never exactly noticed how foreboding the sound of the hinges creaking could be. He took a step inside, still keeping his movements slow, and he was so intent on finding the creature that he couldn’t stop Merlin from letting out a huff and stepping two steps ahead of him.
“Myrtle?” Merlin asked the empty building. “Are you here?”
“Of course it- she’s here, she couldn’t have left without someone noticing,” Arthur snapped, showing his discomfort with actually speaking to a magical creature. His Father would have his head.
“Well, if we can’t touch her, then maybe she can make herself invisible as well,” Merlin said patiently, as though talking to a child.
Arthur pursed his lips. It was a very real possibility.
“I can,” a voice came from behind him and Arthur jumped around, his sword slicing through whatever was behind him. “That’s not very nice.”
The speaker really was a girl, as Merlin had described. A child. An innocent.
“Hello, Myrtle,” Merlin pushed him to the side. “Do you remember me? I’m Merlin,” he said, moving in front of Arthur. Bloody hero complex.
“Oh,” the girl, Myrtle, smiled at Merlin. Shyly. Arthur stepped forward, feeling a sharp pang of disgust and something else that he didn’t really want to identify in his stomach. “I remember you, hello.” She floated -and Arthur tried not to stare-towards Merlin. “Who’s this?” she looked at Arthur, frowning.
“I’m Arthur,” he said, glad that his voice was steady. “Prince Arthur.”
Myrtle looked slightly impressed at that, nearing him instead. Arthur took an instinctive step towards Merlin at that. “You’re a Prince?” she asked breathlessly. “Are you rich?”
“Yes,” he said. “Very rich.”
“As rich as Harry?” she demanded.
Arthur’s brow rose, and he was about to ask who Harry was when Merlin stepped on his foot. He glared at the man, and Merlin shook his head discreetly, as though saying Don’t ask the question. Arthur opened his mouth to tell him exactly what Arthur could do to him for hurting the Prince of Camelot when Myrtle cleared her throat pointedly. All women, Arthur decided, both human and magical, liked attention. “Yes, richer than Harry,” he said, because he was richer than everyone in Camelot anyway.
“Wow,” Myrtle said, sounding awe struck. “How come I’ve never heard of you if you’re richer than Harry?”
Arthur frowned. “But wh-”
“He doesn’t like being so known,” Merlin interrupted. “He doesn’t need everyone to know his name. He’s humble, he’d do anything for his people.”
Arthur looked at Merlin, trying to keep his expression neutral at the praises. He wondered if Merlin actually meant it or if he was just saying it to distract Myrtle. “That’s nice,” Myrtle said thoughtfully. “You’re nice, like Harry then. I hope you aren’t like that awful girl, Harry’s friend,” Myrtle made a face. “Maybe you’re like that nice boy with blond hair. He used to come to my bathroom, you know, and he’d cry and cry.”
Arthur was lost in the conversation, and when he glanced at Merlin, he knew that Merlin was as well. “We’re nice,” Arthur said when there was a pause in her speech, because she was looking at him as if she wanted him to speak.
At the words, Myrtle smiled. Then she pointed at the floor. Arthur was still confused. She tilted her head meaningfully, although what she meant Arthur didn’t understand. Myrtle sat on the floor, leaning against the wall, and Arthur understood. Merlin was quick to settle down opposite her, and Arthur cringed.
“Arthur,” Merlin said warningly.
Arthur sighed and then sat down. “This is beneath me,” he informed Merlin, who grinned unrepentantly.
“This is lovely, isn’t it?” Myrtle asked, beaming. “Like in Hogwarts.”
“What’s Hogwarts?” Arthur asked before Merlin could stop him.
“Only the greatest wizarding school of all time,” Myrtle said. “McGonagall is in charge now, she’s not nice.” Myrtle’s nose wrinkled. “She lets Peeves get away with playing pranks on me, The Bloody Baron won’t even help me these days. And then there was that reunion, and no one came to visit me except for Harry and those awful friends of his-”
Arthur’s mind was still on the first eight words. “Wait, wizarding school? You mean- magic?” He lowered his voice at the word.
“Well, of course,” Myrtle rolled her eyes. “I thought you were sma-” She froze, “Are you Muggles?”
“What?” Arthur asked, trying not to let his mouth fall open.
“Muggles, non-wizarding people,” Myrtle explained, slightly worried. “You aren’t are you? I mean, this place has to have some magic, I can feel it.” She looked between them, her eyes pausing on Merlin. “Well, say something.”
“This- Hog place-”
“Hogwarts.”
“Yes,” Merlin nodded, his eyes alight. “Hogwarts, it’s a school of magic?” He sounded far more interested than a person should considering that it was magic. It was dirty and wrong and represented everything bad about the world.
“Well, yes, all wizards and witches attend it, since forever,” Myrtle said.
Arthur closed his eyes and lowered his head, resting it on his bent knees. “This isn’t real. This isn’t real.” There was always the off chance that if he repeated it to himself it would come true. “Not real,” he repeated. He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up at Merlin. “Not real,” he told Merlin. Merlin bit his lip, not commenting.
Myrtle giggled. “You two are like the Head Boy that year, Percy-”
“Percival?” Arthur turned his head to look at the creature. “How do you know him?” he asked harshly.
Myrtle pouted. “No, it was Percy. And Oliver, he was the Quidditch Captain.”
“Quidditch?” Arthur asked, making sure that only Merlin would be able to hear him. He didn’t need another ramble on what exactly Quidditch was.
“They were just like you two, always flirting in the Prefects Bathroom.” It took for a moment for the sentiment to sink in, and then Merlin jumped back, falling on his back since he was kneeling to begin with. Arthur turned a dark pink -a light red, really, because pink wasn’t a colour that should be associated with the Prince of Camelot-and carefully didn’t look at Merlin, because those noises were in his head again, and he sensed that it would be an extremely bad idea to look at Merlin now.
“Wait,” Merlin looked up, brows furrowed. “How old are you?”
“Very,” Myrtle said solemnly. “Since you’re a Muggle, I guess you don’t know. I’m a ghost.”
“What?” Arthur asked.
“Ghost, I was human, but then I died, and now I’m a ghost.” She sounded far too matter-of-fact about the matter for Arthur’s liking.
“Wait, school- and this Prefect,” Merlin mumbled quickly, eyes darkening. “Myrtle, exactly how old are you?”
“I don’t know. I’ve lost count, over seventy? People don’t really celebrate my birthday,” she said sadly.
“What year were you born?” Merlin asked. Arthur frowned at the strange questions, but Merlin seemed to have an idea.
“1932 on th-”
“What?” Arthur’s eyes widened. “But, that’s not even- I mean, you can’t- for, you’re not from-” He looked at Merlin, who looked as stunned as he did, but with a hint of acceptance in his eyes, and Arthur knew that Merlin had already suspected the fact.
“Thank you, Myrtle,” Merlin said, pulling Arthur up by the shoulder. Arthur went along with the movement, feeling slightly numb. There was no such time yet, it wasn’t real. And yet this ghost -as she had called herself, and what sort of creature was that anyway?- had obviously lived through it. If she was as old as she said she was, then it had to be-
He stopped his flow of thought. “This is not real.”
Continued here...
Author: ansera
Fandoms: Harry Potter, Merlin
Characters Moaning Myrtle, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Mentions of Percy, Oliver and Draco; Merlin, Arthur, Uther, Guinevere, Morgana, Gaius, Owain, Ewan, Percival
Pairings: Merlin/Arthur
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 11, 744
Spoilers: Through 'Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows' for Harry Potter (The Epilogue is not included) and Season 1 of Merlin
Warnings: Slash
Disclaimer: Harry Potter nor Merlin belong to their respective creators.
A/N: I started off wanting to write the prompt for HP/Merlin, but this plot struck me and refused to budge. Thank you to runriggers for the beta, insanely_so for the awesome plot-hole-finding, and needed_beauty for being the best cheerleader ever. I hope you enjoy this ariadnes_string, thank you for the amazing prompts.
Summary: Something falls from the sky, and Camelot has to deal with the repercussions.
When it first fell out of the sky, people paid little mind to it, because unnatural occurrings were quickly becoming part of the day-to-day life in Camelot, and no one could afford to spend time worrying about them.
They regretted it later.
+
Guinevere Smith walked along the streets of Camelot, smiling at those who knew and greeted her. She made the familiar trek to the public bath house -a large building near the corner of the kingdom, out of the way so that those of royalty need never set their eyes on it. She stopped outside it, pumping a little water on her hands to clear it of the grime and dirt that had gathered there after finally cleaning out the house.
She opened the door and stepped in, and then ran out screaming moments later.
A keening wail that would quickly become familiar to the citizens of Camelot followed her.
+
“Arthur, I assume that you will handle this disturbance?” Uther Pendragon asked his son, face a cool mask.
Arthur nodded, sparing a glance for where Morgana and Merlin were attempting to calm down the obviously distraught maid girl of Morgana’s -Gin or Gen or something, the girl’s name was- before turning back to the King. “Of course, Father.”
From the girl’s account, whatever was in the building -and Arthur inwardly cringed at the thought of actually having to enter the area- was of little harm. It had done nothing the whole day except, according to the lengthy reports that had been collected, cry.
He knew not to underestimate sorcery though, and clenched his jaw.
Merlin was looking at him with an expression of worry that was a little more concerned than the usual one that he wore, and he kept sneaking glances at Gaius and the maid girl in turn when he thought that no one was looking. Arthur spared a second to wonder if his manservant was hiding something from him but quickly discarded the thought; the fool couldn’t keep a secret to save his life. Well, he amended his thoughts; he could, just not from him, anyway.
He turned back to his father and caught the last part of his speech -“Make it clear that magic will never be allowed in Camelot.” The usual, then, he thought slightly dryly, resisting the urge to slouch in boredom or the like. “I expect you to get rid of the creature soon, and anybody who interferes with your mission will be suspected of sorcery and treated as such.” Arthur kept the frown off his face with some effort. He did not think it particularly fair to kill everyone based on nothing but a hunch, but it was not his kingdom to rule.
Yet.
He shook his head slightly and tried to look more attentive. His father was still speaking, and Arthur knew without even listening that he was preaching the importance of obedience, the danger of magic, and quite possibly the idiocy of those who chose to accept or, heaven forbid, use magic. His father nodded, and Arthur straightened.
“Of course, Father,” he said on rote, “I will gather some of the knights immediately.” He gave a stiff, formal bow before walking towards the maid girl.
Merlin was already making his way to him. “Are you sure you can kill the creature?”
Arthur didn’t bother him with an answer. “What’s the girl’s name?”
“Who, Lady Morgana?” Merlin asked dumbly.
“No, you idiot, the maid girl, your friend,” Arthur hissed.
“Oh, Gwen, well, Guinevere really, but everyone calls her Gwen-”
“Guinevere,” Arthur said smoothly, allowing the corners of his mouth to turn up in a smile. Morgana glared at him as he approached and Arthur knew she saw right through the facade. “I was wondering if you would tell me exactly what it is that you saw?” He phrased it as a question, but it was undoubtedly an order.
Guinevere breathed harshly. “I- I don’t know what it is. It just this white,” her face crumpled, “thing. It was just white, everywhere, no other colour. I’m sorry,” she shook her head, lowering it; “I didn’t get a very good look at it.” Arthur nodded and made to speak when she continued, her voice shaking slightly but steady enough for Arthur to admire her courage. “I swear, though, it was- it was as if it were a person and I could almost, almost see right through it, like one of Morg- I mean, Lady Morgana’s thinner fabrics. I could look through the white, I saw the walls clearly and-” she broke off, Morgana’s hand stroking her back soothingly and Arthur took it as his cue to leave.
He had never heard of such a creature but hid his doubt. “Thank you for your assistance,” he said formally, nodding at Morgana before turning on his heel. “Definitely magic, then,” he muttered when they were out of earshot. “Either that or Gin’s lost it.”
“It’s Gwen and she’s perfectly sane,” Merlin said hotly.
Arthur didn’t know why Merlin thought he would even try to remember a commoner’s name. He had better things to do, to remember. “Either way, we should be preparing ourselves for a magical creature, make sure the knights get the message.”
“Yes, Sire,” Merlin said.
“Has the lower town been quartered off?” he asked sharply.
Merlin nodded. “A few more people had entered the building before the knights got there, so Gaius is attending to them.”
“It has the ability to hurt people then,” Arthur thought aloud. Merlin gave him a strange look at his words and he inwardly winced -if it was of magic then of course, it could cause harm. It had to cause harm. As son of the king he shouldn’t even be thinking otherwise, much less be verbalising it in front of anyone -even Merlin, whom he trusted explicitly. It was treason.
“No, actually,” Merlin said, not commenting on his words, for which Arthur was grateful. “As far as I can tell, they’re just shocked. But otherwise, no one has been physically hurt.”
“Why?” Arthur asked, honestly puzzled.
Merlin shrugged. “It doesn’t hurt people, maybe?”
“It’s magic,” he said, as if that meant that it had to hurt people, although he said it more because it was expected of him than because of any real belief in the view himself. He shook his head. “Prepare for a highly dangerous and unstable creature, we are only going to find out what the creature is before readying ourselves for an attack.”
“Of course, Sire,” Merlin nodded.
“Have you prepared the horse and informed the other knights to stand on guard until I arrive?”
Merlin looked slightly offended that he thought him that incapable of doing his job. “Of course I did.”
“Good,” he said quickly. “We must identify the creature in order to kill it,” he said, long strides leading him outside quickly.
+
Arthur stood in front of the building with his brow furrowing slightly. He was surrounded by the other knights on all sides, with Merlin closest to him out of habit more than anything. He wondered faintly why it was that while all of the knights were suitably covered with armour, Merlin could feel safe in his threadbare trousers and shirt and that ridiculous red scarf. Why Merlin never complained about it either.
He didn’t think on it too hard. Merlin was a servant, his life was inconsequential compared to that of his knights.
That didn’t explain why he moved slightly closer to the man, though.
The creature could be heard clearly, long and high-pitched keening noises that led Arthur to believe that it was female, if magical creatures indeed had genders, of course. The whole area was startlingly empty, all the citizens in the area brought further out so that the area around the building was empty of people who could get caught in the crossfire. It was strange, he decided, the city being so silent.
He cleared his head with a quick shake and walked closer, his sword held out before him, the polished edge reflecting the light of the sun. He crooked his fingers, and Owain and Erec moved to the back, with the other knights surrounding the area. If the creature attempted to escape, it would be surrounded. He approached the door warily, trying to keep himself as quiet as possible.
He opened the door, making the hinges creak ominously, and stepped in with Gawain and Percival behind him. He looked round. The sound had ceased the moment the door had opened and he didn’t know where the creature was or even what it was, making it impossible to launch any sort of attack.
Arthur turned swiftly at what he thought was movement but saw only his reflection in the slightly dirty mirror. Percival opened the door of one of the stalls and Arthur nodded, and Gawain and Constantine opened the other two. They were all empty. Arthur frowned. They had all the exits covered. Unless the creature had the ability to make itself invisible or pass through the door, it had to be here somewhere.
If only he knew exactly where.
Merlin walked slightly ahead of him, ignoring the crook of Arthur’s finger that he had created just for Merlin and translated into ‘Stay behind me, fool’. Arthur rolled his eyes when the man continued walking towards the mirror. Then he froze, tilting his head upwards.
He let out an extremely manly squeak as a white apparition came towards him. A body shoved against his and he only registered Merlin when they both fell onto the hard ground with a dull thud. “Merlin,” he growled darkly.
“Necessity, Sire,” he said, before lunging out of the way, pushing Arthur in the opposite direction, as the thing came towards him. Arthur grabbed his sword and tried to swipe at it, but it rose quickly, too quickly for him to look at it properly.
The other knights stood a while before lunging for it, each of them missing more spectacularly than the one before.
Whatever this thing was, it moved fast. Unnaturally fast.
“And we still don’t know what the hell it is,” Arthur cursed.
“At least we know that it flies,” Merlin offered with a half shrug, Arthur’s sword in his hand. Strangely, it didn’t look out of place on him, and Arthur frowned slightly before reaching out to take it.
“Well, since it’s flying we can’t kill it-”
The thing flew down, and Arthur moved back, falling onto the ground, shouting for everyone to escape because there was no way they could hit the creature without an archer or two. His sword flashed in the dim light as the creature flew right above him, and he sliced neatly through it before staggering out.
Merlin was right next to him, and only when they were a few buildings away did they stop running, and the loud screams could be heard over the sounds of their harsh breaths. Arthur looked around, running a practised eye over his men and ending with Merlin, speaking only when he had ascertained that they were all unhurt.
“Everyone return to the castle,” he ordered, and the knights paused without moving.
“Sire?” Percival asked. “What-”
“We will discuss that creature when we are at the castle,” he snapped, and the knights left slowly, leaving only him and Merlin and those awful sounds ringing in her ears. “Why isn’t it dead?” he growled, not hiding his frustration from his manservant.
The man shrugged uselessly. “Maybe you missed?” He glared and Merlin hastily corrected himself. “Maybe it flew away before you could hit it?”
Arthur was still displeased, the force of his glare not subsiding, but he heard Merlin let out a sigh of relief as he directed his glare to the building which the creature occupied. He swore that his sword had sliced it, but, obviously, it hadn’t worked.
“Did you get a good look at it?” he asked.
Merlin shook his head. “It was white,” he offered obviously. “And it can fly at supernatural speeds. But it had the chance to hurt us and no one was hurt. I doubt anyone was even touched by the creature.”
“It is trying to scare us out of Camelot, then,” Arthur said frowning.
Merlin opened his mouth to speak, and Arthur knew that that wasn’t what he was aiming at, but closed it again, sensing the futility of it.
“Well, we will not leave,” Arthur continued. “Have the people stay out of the area, we will return with reinforcements at dawn tomorrow.” He turned and walked away.
“Oh, thank you for saving my life, Merlin. Why, you’re welcome, Arthur, so nice to be appreciated,” he heard Merlin grumble behind him and hid his smile.
+
Two days later, it was confirmed.
The creature did nothing besides moan and screech. It did not appear to need sleep, and Merlin knew the fact pointedly because the lack of sleep was taking its toll on Arthur, which meant he was getting the full force of it. He was ready to face the creature and kill it himself, except that they had had archers shooting at the creature, and it seemed impervious to attack.
Arthur fell back onto the bed.
“The creature refuses to die,” he announced to the room, empty except for Merlin.
Merlin frowned. “I’m sure it will, we just need to figure out what it’s weaknesses are.”
Arthur tilted his head up a fraction. “We?”
Merlin turned red. “I mean, you. You need to figure it out. I’m just here, doing nothing, I don’t know what it is, and I can’t figure it out. Don’t know anything magic, nope.”
Arthur’s brow rose with some curiosity, but he shook his head and dropped his head back down. “Shut up, Merlin.” Merlin shut up. “It doesn’t matter how we do it, but that thing has to be killed or Father will kill me.” He didn’t have a trace of humour in his tone, and Merlin looked at him with an expression of slight worry.
“The King is-”
“Displeased with his son? The understatement of the century,” Arthur smiled self deprecatingly.
“Arthur,” Merlin said softly. “Is there any way I can help?”
“Yeah,” Arthur raised himself so that he was leaning on his forearms. “You could find a way to kill the thing.”
Merlin hesitated, and Arthur thought he saw something in the other man’s face -just a flash of knowing and guilt and pride that disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. “I’ll try,” Merlin said, and Arthur’s surprise must have been evident on his face, for he continued, “We all will,” and that made much more sense.
Except, Arthur thought that Merlin meant it differently.
+
“Hello?” Merlin called out.
He had searched the book, and Gaius had helped him, and they had found references to the creature. Vague descriptions of whiteness and death that didn’t make much sense to either of them. There hadn’t been any mention on how to kill it either, he didn’t think anyone had actually achieved that particular feat yet.
The area hadn’t been difficult to get into; the guards were easy enough to fool. Sometimes, Merlin thought that he should advise Arthur on how to improve the protection of Camelot, but that would only make it harder on him to get around, so he decided to leave it be. Not to mention the fact that Arthur would take immense offense. And he probably wouldn’t believe Merlin, anyway.
He closed the door behind him, eyes lifting upwards to the ceiling. It was empty of white apparitions.
He looked forward and saw it.
Half an inch away from his face.
It was only the fact that someone would find him that kept him from screaming. As it was, he let out a small squeal, clutching a hand to his chest. Then he looked up again to find the creature in the exact same position, and that’s when he took in its appearance completely, and frowned with more than a little confusion.
“You’re- human?”
It looked partially human. It looked human, a female, face wide, with glasses on her face like Gaius had, except with larger frames. She wore -and Merlin blinked again-a long robe, and a tie peeked out from the top. Her expression looked like a cross between mournful and hopeful, eyes widened innocently, hair falling from where it was tied at either side of her head. But she was also entirely white, and like Gwen had described, he could see right through her to the mirror behind.
She had no reflection.
“No,” the girl said, face scrounging up in an expression he had seen on the girls in the village, and he held up his hands in a non-threatening fashion.
“Don’t cry,” he asked, because human or not, he didn’t want to make people, girls, cry. His mother had raised him better than that. “I’m Merlin, who are you?” he asked politely, mainly to take her attention away from any tears that might spring up. The fact that he was talking to a creature in a civilized fashion didn’t escape him.
“Of course,” the girl flew up, and Merlin’s eyes bulged slightly. She had feet, and yet she was flying. “Nobody knows me,” she sniffed. “I’m Moaning Myrtle,” she said, in a sing song manner, drawing out the syllables. Merlin thought the name was apt considering what the creature had been doing for the past few days, but he wisely didn’t say it. He sensed that she would start crying again.
“Well, it’s- uh, nice to meet you?” he said, ending it in a question, because what was he doing, talking to a magical creature? The King would kill him if he heard of it. Then again, the King would kill him if he even caught a hint that he practiced magic, so it wasn’t much of an added threat, really.
“Nobody wants to meet me. They just leave me up here, tease me about being Moaning Myrtle,” Myrtle whined, and Merlin understood why no one wanted to meet her -the thing was annoying after a minute. If people had to spend more than ten minutes with her, they might very well lose their sanity. He didn’t say anything, and Myrtle continued, apparently used to having one-sided conversations. “And it’s even worse in this place. People keep running away from me and screaming and they won’t even look at me. Do you have anyone to talk to? Because things can get very boring when you have no one to talk to.”
“Well, I have Gaius, he’s- uh, my uncle, and Arthur. He’s,” Merlin paused.
“He’s?” Myrtle prompted.
“He’s Arthur,” he shrugged.
“He’s your Arthur?” Myrtle asked, smirking slightly.
Merlin blushed. “He’s not my Arthur, he’s the people’s Arthur, the Prince. He’s just Arthur.”
“The Prince, huh?” Myrtle flew up. “What is this place? It’s not Hogwarts, for sure, I mean-” her face scrounged up, confused and almost child-like in her lack of knowing. Merlin softened. Then her face hardened, “Where am I and how do I get out of here?”
“Well, you’re in Camelot and, well, since I don’t know how you got here I don’t think you can just go back to this Hog-place,” he said and was about to ask what the Hog-place was when Myrtle cut in.
“But how will I get back?” she asked, panicking.
“Uh- I don’t know, maybe,” he stopped, because he didn’t think Myrtle wanted to hear the words ‘you can’t’.
“But, everyone I know is in Hogwarts,” Myrtle said sadly.
“So,” he said quickly, changing the topic, “you did know people who were just people?”
“Harry would come sometimes, but then he left the school and killed You-Know-Who,” she dropped her voice for the last bit, as if conspiring with him against something.
“Excuse me, but, who?” he asked.
“What?” Myrtle’s mouth dropped open slightly.
“Who is it that I know?” he prompted.
Myrtle snapped her mouth shut, and then flew down next to him. He almost flinched, but he felt nothing next to him. When she spoke, he felt no breath, just the emptiness of air. “You don’t know You-Know-Who?”
Merlin picked up on the capitals this time. “Well, what’s his name?”
“Well,” Myrtle smiled weirdly, and it took Merlin a moment to realise that she was trying to be shy. His face paled at the implications. “You-Know-Who, we can’t say his name-”
“I thought you said, er-” he searched for the name, “Harpy or whoever had killed him?”
Myrtle’s eyes narrowed. “What did you call Harry?”
He winced, she was a protective creature over this Harp- Harry, he reminded himself, it wouldn’t do to confuse the name twice. “Harry, I called him Harry,” he said quickly. “He killed this I-Know-Who?”
“Who?” Myrtle frowned with confusion.
“I-Know-Who,” Merlin expanded. “Harry killed it, right?”
“Who?” Myrtle repeated, and then her face cleared. “Oh, you mean You-Know-Who,” she said with an amused smile.
Merlin was annoyed, “That’s what I said.”
“No, it’s You-Know-Who, not I,” Myrtle explained. Merlin almost rolled his eyes, but he didn’t want to offend the creature further. He stared at her pointedly. “Yes, Harry killed him, but, it’s not safe to say his name,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Why not?” he asked.
She frowned. “Because,” she said, as though it explained everything. “He’s You-Know-Who.”
“If he’s dead, it’s not like he can come back from the dead, right?” Merlin shrugged. “When you’re dead, that’s it.” Myrtle looked insulted and he wondered what he had said this time. “What?” he asked plaintatively.
Myrtle looked at him pointedly. When he looked at her without changing his expression, she let out a wail and floated in the air. He took that as his cue to run away.
+
“You did what?”
Merlin figured that Arthur’s outburst was to be allowed, since he had done something more dumb than usual. They were in Arthur’s room, because he had expected the yelling and his quarters seemed the safest area to be yelled at. The safest area for him to tell Arthur that he had faced the creature and had survived unscathed, without any mention that he had used magic or was magical.
“Of all the stupid things you have done, Merlin, this is by far the stupidest,” Arthur said, pacing across the room. “The icing on the cake, crème of the crop, the leader of the team, the-”
“I get it, Arthur,” Merlin snapped, because Arthur had already been going on like this for 5 minutes and lectures got really old really fast.
“If you do, why do you keep doing it?” Arthur asked, voice loud enough that Merlin hoped no one was in any of the rooms within a twenty feet radius. Arthur’s eyes were blazing, dark and narrowed and so focused on Merlin that he knew he wouldn’t be able to escape it if he tried. Arthur’s fists were clenching and unclenching on either side of him, and Merlin knew that if he said the wrong thing now Arthur might break a bone punching a wall, since he would never actually hit Merlin.
“I got to know it,” Merlin said valiantly, seeking an escape from the situation. “I mean, you wanted to find its weaknesses right?” Arthur opened his mouth, a retort on his tongue, and Merlin continued quickly. “And I did, I mean, I know that sh- it’s lonely, and that it has a human form. I know that it’s made of air or something, so nothing can actually physically kill it. And,” he paused, unsure on whether to add the last point, “I don’t think it’s here to hurt anyone.”
Arthur’s expression froze. “It’s magic,” he spat. “Of course it intends to hurt people. Even if it doesn’t, the possibility still remains-”
“But if we can’t do anything to it, then it can’t do anything to us, right?” Merlin asked.
Arthur scoffed. “Don’t be naive, Merlin. That’s like hiding your face behind your hands -if you can’t see him, he can’t see you,” he mocked harshly.
“But it’s not corporeal, it doesn’t- exist,” he stumbled on the words, uncertain on how to phrase his thoughts.
“No buts, Merlin,” Arthur said forcefully. “This creature must be killed at all costs. Your King will not have it any other way.”
“I’m not asking the King, I’m asking his son,” Merlin said, frustration evident in his tone.
Arthur’s face softened for a moment, and he shook his head. “There is no difference between the two, Merlin. You should know that by now.”
Merlin kept silent, but his reply to that was clear on his face.
+
“How’re you feeling?” Merlin asked gently, looking around at the Knights -most of them dead on their feet, tired after too few hours of sleep in too many days-and then back at Arthur. He looked the worst. Not surprising since he was working the most. Merlin didn’t need to wonder what Arthur was doing, the rumours flew through Camelot unbidden, tales of the Prince Arthur who had used his best archers and his best knights to no avail.
There were tales of the creature, how it took the form of a female child, one who cried about her past to anyone who would listen; one who wailed to the skies on a daily basis. There were tales of the fury of the King, how his voice had carried throughout the halls of the castle to reach maids and servants who were more than willing to share his words. There were tales of the weariness of everyone involved with destroying the creature, especially the Prince.
“I’d feel better if it left,” Arthur said snappily, swallowing the contents of the small vial Gaius had provided without even wincing at its taste, too familiar with the bitterness.
Merlin’s face softened. “Maybe you should try using ‘her’ instead of ‘it’?”
Arthur let out a laugh that held no humour. “Then I’d feel better if she left.”
Merlin winced. “Perhaps you should rest, let all of them rest too,” he tilted his head towards the other Knights. The moment Arthur’s eyes landed on them they straightened, polishing their swords or testing the strings of their bows or doing something to make themselves look like they were actually doing work.
“We need to kill the creature,” Arthur said monotonously.
Merlin smiled, sensing victory. “You can’t do that if you’re half asleep,” he pointed out. Arthur looked up at him, and then smiled, with an emotion he couldn’t place -not happiness, but not annoyance either, which was a plus in his books any day. Arthur hesitated and Merlin laid a hand on his shoulder, “Come on, the bed’s been made for days, I think it wants you back.”
Arthur grinned. “If I get into a made bed it’s only going to get messy.”
“But that’s the fun,” Merlin laughed. “Don’t lie, that’s why you keep making us make the bed, so that you can sleep for ten minutes and make us do it all over again.”
Arthur didn’t deny it, the tension in his body slowly leaving. “Maybe I just like sleeping, and it doesn’t matter if the bed’s made?”
“So you won’t mind if I don’t make it tomorrow?” Merlin asked cheekily, ducking before Arthur’s hand could reach the back of his head.
“It’s not like you do it now, anyway,” Arthur retorted lightly, stretching his hands above his head. Merlin’s eyes dropped to the stretch of skin that showed before looking away. Arthur didn’t comment on the action. If he did, Merlin would never do it again. He didn’t know why that was such a horrid thought, but it was.
“I do,” Merlin protested when the silence stretched just a little too long.
Arthur didn’t say anything, but he walked over to where Percival was standing -as alert as ever, Arthur wondered if he ever slept sometimes-and told him softly, “Can you stay?” He knew it wasn’t fair of him to ask, but he also knew that he was a few years older than Arthur and would be more than capable of handling matters here. Percival nodded once, eyes staying fixed on the building. He turned to the other Knights, who looked at him, not hiding the anticipation in their eyes, and when he nodded, it was a rush to see who reached their bed first.
He turned back to Merlin, who grinned and tilted his head towards the castle.
Arthur smiled, and walked towards his room with Merlin by his side. Faintly, he thought that it was a pity that Merlin left for his own room at the doorway.
+
“Maybe I should-”
“No, Merlin.”
“But if it’s the only way-”
“It’s not.”
“I don’t see you coming up with any bright ideas-”
“I’ll figure it out.”
Merlin huffed angrily. “Your Father wants you to kill this thing, right? We can’t do that-”
“We aren’t doing anything,” Arthur bit out, not looking up from the map in front of them. Five days and the creature had proven that it was impervious to attack. A siege might work, though. Not likely, was the thought of all the Knights, but the King was insistent. “I’m going to kill this thing, and you’re going to stay behind me.”
“You can’t kill it,” Merlin said, voice not so much angry as weary. Having the same argument throughout the afternoon did that to a person.
Arthur’s eyes lifted at that. “Can’t I?” His voice was low, dangerous, daring Merlin to doubt him.
“The thing can’t be killed,” Merlin said, for the umpteenth time. “But if you let me-”
“No, Merlin.”
“But it’s the only way-”
“It’s not.”
“You still don’t have any new ideas-”
“I’ll figure it out.” Arthur sounded as tired as Merlin, if not more. Merlin softened, all the Knights had been working with too little rest these days. He shook his head; the King was going to kill them before they could even fight the thing.
“Let me try,” Merlin said slowly.
Arthur’s eyes closed. “It will kill you, Merlin.”
“It didn’t the last time,” Merlin said, keeping his voice steady, calm.
“Only because you still had some sense and ran away before it could,” Arthur said, and before Merlin could protest, he continued. “I know that it seemed friendly, Merlin, but that’s what these things do. They pretend to be your friend and then they kill you when you’ve turned your back.”
“Sounds more like a human then a creature, then,” Merlin muttered.
Arthur grinned at that. “Humans can be creatures, sometimes,” he agreed.
“This creature was different,” Merlin tried, not letting Arthur change the topic.
“It’s magical, Merlin, just how different could it be?” Arthur asked rhetorically. Merlin bit his lip, not meeting Arthur’s eyes. Arthur frowned at his actions, and then shrugged it off, he had no time to think too much on Merlin -his Father wanted results, and he had a day to make something happen before the King took over matters himself.
A burst of noise from the building and they both turned, Arthur’s knife in his hand.
“She’s just crying again, Sire,” Ewan said, rubbing his eyes. “Percival sent another arrow through her.”
Arthur sighed.
“Are you sure you don’t want me talking to her?” Merlin dropped his voice to a near whisper. “You can come with me, we’ll see how things are. And if it doesn’t work, then no one will know about it.” Arthur looked up. “If it helps us kill the creature, your Father won’t mind, will he?” Arthur frowned slightly, considering the matter. “We have nothing to lose, this creature has to die. The end has to be worth the means, right?” Arthur nodded slowly.
Merlin grinned, but stifled it when Arthur’s expression became annoyed.
“Fine,” Arthur said. “But we do it late, under the cover of night, when no one can see us.” Merlin nodded, his grin just a tad too wide when he walked away.
+
Arthur was distracted for the rest of the evening. He told himself that it was the creature doing the distracting, not Merlin.
He was lying.
+
Arthur’s eyes flew open.
He could hear something. They were sleeping near the building, the area still quartered off, and there were only a handful of Knights there. Percival had left for the night, Lucan and Por called away to secure the security of the castle and the higher town, which left Ewan and Owain on guard duty, although they were both asleep now. Or so he had thought, anyways.
Someone was definitely awake. And doing things that they had no right doing at a time of trouble.
He sat up slowly, hearing the small whimpers that were deafeningly loud in the silence, noises that he himself made when in bed at the castle, or when there was a woman in his bed. There was a moan, soft, and he had to strain to hear it, although he didn’t know why he wanted to hear it at all. It was coming from the left, and the only person in that tent was-
“Arthur.” The name was softly said as well, with an obvious hitch of breath accompanying it.
Then there was silence. A long silence that he felt pressing down on his ears like his Father’s crown or all the horses in the stable. He bit down on his lower lip, feeling an all too familiar stirring in him, and shook his head in an attempt to get rid of the images that invaded his mind.
“Arthur?” This time, his name was said as a question.
He looked over and saw Merlin’s figure, and then flushed darkly, thanking the darkness for hiding it from Merlin. “You,” he cleared his throat when hearing how shaky it was, “You’re ready?”
“Yeah, hurry,” Merlin whispered, and there was the sound of shuffling feet as he moved away.
Arthur took a few breaths to calm himself before standing up, picking up his sword easily. He stood up, stilling when he heard Owain twist in the tent on the other side. Another stretch of silence before he stood up, walking out of the tent and almost hitting Merlin. “Move, you idiot,” he hissed, knowing that he was being harsher than he had intended, but considering Merlin’s earlier actions it was completely warranted.
“Sorry,” Merlin whispered, moving towards the building.
Arthur walked a little faster until he was a step ahead of Merlin. No matter how idiotic the man was, he was one of Arthur’s people and he wouldn’t let him die in Arthur’s stead. The moon was bright enough for Arthur to see Merlin rolling his eyes. “Prat,” Merlin muttered under his breath, and Arthur smirked.
“What was that?” he asked.
Merlin looked up. “I said prat,” he said without the slightest hint of apology. Arthur wasn’t surprised. He stopped outside the door of the building. Merlin’s shoulder nudged his. “We’ve got to do this. Don’t worry,” he could hear Merlin’s grin, “I’ll protect you from the small untouchable girl.”
Arthur couldn’t stop the corner of his mouth from turning up, and opened the door. He had never exactly noticed how foreboding the sound of the hinges creaking could be. He took a step inside, still keeping his movements slow, and he was so intent on finding the creature that he couldn’t stop Merlin from letting out a huff and stepping two steps ahead of him.
“Myrtle?” Merlin asked the empty building. “Are you here?”
“Of course it- she’s here, she couldn’t have left without someone noticing,” Arthur snapped, showing his discomfort with actually speaking to a magical creature. His Father would have his head.
“Well, if we can’t touch her, then maybe she can make herself invisible as well,” Merlin said patiently, as though talking to a child.
Arthur pursed his lips. It was a very real possibility.
“I can,” a voice came from behind him and Arthur jumped around, his sword slicing through whatever was behind him. “That’s not very nice.”
The speaker really was a girl, as Merlin had described. A child. An innocent.
“Hello, Myrtle,” Merlin pushed him to the side. “Do you remember me? I’m Merlin,” he said, moving in front of Arthur. Bloody hero complex.
“Oh,” the girl, Myrtle, smiled at Merlin. Shyly. Arthur stepped forward, feeling a sharp pang of disgust and something else that he didn’t really want to identify in his stomach. “I remember you, hello.” She floated -and Arthur tried not to stare-towards Merlin. “Who’s this?” she looked at Arthur, frowning.
“I’m Arthur,” he said, glad that his voice was steady. “Prince Arthur.”
Myrtle looked slightly impressed at that, nearing him instead. Arthur took an instinctive step towards Merlin at that. “You’re a Prince?” she asked breathlessly. “Are you rich?”
“Yes,” he said. “Very rich.”
“As rich as Harry?” she demanded.
Arthur’s brow rose, and he was about to ask who Harry was when Merlin stepped on his foot. He glared at the man, and Merlin shook his head discreetly, as though saying Don’t ask the question. Arthur opened his mouth to tell him exactly what Arthur could do to him for hurting the Prince of Camelot when Myrtle cleared her throat pointedly. All women, Arthur decided, both human and magical, liked attention. “Yes, richer than Harry,” he said, because he was richer than everyone in Camelot anyway.
“Wow,” Myrtle said, sounding awe struck. “How come I’ve never heard of you if you’re richer than Harry?”
Arthur frowned. “But wh-”
“He doesn’t like being so known,” Merlin interrupted. “He doesn’t need everyone to know his name. He’s humble, he’d do anything for his people.”
Arthur looked at Merlin, trying to keep his expression neutral at the praises. He wondered if Merlin actually meant it or if he was just saying it to distract Myrtle. “That’s nice,” Myrtle said thoughtfully. “You’re nice, like Harry then. I hope you aren’t like that awful girl, Harry’s friend,” Myrtle made a face. “Maybe you’re like that nice boy with blond hair. He used to come to my bathroom, you know, and he’d cry and cry.”
Arthur was lost in the conversation, and when he glanced at Merlin, he knew that Merlin was as well. “We’re nice,” Arthur said when there was a pause in her speech, because she was looking at him as if she wanted him to speak.
At the words, Myrtle smiled. Then she pointed at the floor. Arthur was still confused. She tilted her head meaningfully, although what she meant Arthur didn’t understand. Myrtle sat on the floor, leaning against the wall, and Arthur understood. Merlin was quick to settle down opposite her, and Arthur cringed.
“Arthur,” Merlin said warningly.
Arthur sighed and then sat down. “This is beneath me,” he informed Merlin, who grinned unrepentantly.
“This is lovely, isn’t it?” Myrtle asked, beaming. “Like in Hogwarts.”
“What’s Hogwarts?” Arthur asked before Merlin could stop him.
“Only the greatest wizarding school of all time,” Myrtle said. “McGonagall is in charge now, she’s not nice.” Myrtle’s nose wrinkled. “She lets Peeves get away with playing pranks on me, The Bloody Baron won’t even help me these days. And then there was that reunion, and no one came to visit me except for Harry and those awful friends of his-”
Arthur’s mind was still on the first eight words. “Wait, wizarding school? You mean- magic?” He lowered his voice at the word.
“Well, of course,” Myrtle rolled her eyes. “I thought you were sma-” She froze, “Are you Muggles?”
“What?” Arthur asked, trying not to let his mouth fall open.
“Muggles, non-wizarding people,” Myrtle explained, slightly worried. “You aren’t are you? I mean, this place has to have some magic, I can feel it.” She looked between them, her eyes pausing on Merlin. “Well, say something.”
“This- Hog place-”
“Hogwarts.”
“Yes,” Merlin nodded, his eyes alight. “Hogwarts, it’s a school of magic?” He sounded far more interested than a person should considering that it was magic. It was dirty and wrong and represented everything bad about the world.
“Well, yes, all wizards and witches attend it, since forever,” Myrtle said.
Arthur closed his eyes and lowered his head, resting it on his bent knees. “This isn’t real. This isn’t real.” There was always the off chance that if he repeated it to himself it would come true. “Not real,” he repeated. He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up at Merlin. “Not real,” he told Merlin. Merlin bit his lip, not commenting.
Myrtle giggled. “You two are like the Head Boy that year, Percy-”
“Percival?” Arthur turned his head to look at the creature. “How do you know him?” he asked harshly.
Myrtle pouted. “No, it was Percy. And Oliver, he was the Quidditch Captain.”
“Quidditch?” Arthur asked, making sure that only Merlin would be able to hear him. He didn’t need another ramble on what exactly Quidditch was.
“They were just like you two, always flirting in the Prefects Bathroom.” It took for a moment for the sentiment to sink in, and then Merlin jumped back, falling on his back since he was kneeling to begin with. Arthur turned a dark pink -a light red, really, because pink wasn’t a colour that should be associated with the Prince of Camelot-and carefully didn’t look at Merlin, because those noises were in his head again, and he sensed that it would be an extremely bad idea to look at Merlin now.
“Wait,” Merlin looked up, brows furrowed. “How old are you?”
“Very,” Myrtle said solemnly. “Since you’re a Muggle, I guess you don’t know. I’m a ghost.”
“What?” Arthur asked.
“Ghost, I was human, but then I died, and now I’m a ghost.” She sounded far too matter-of-fact about the matter for Arthur’s liking.
“Wait, school- and this Prefect,” Merlin mumbled quickly, eyes darkening. “Myrtle, exactly how old are you?”
“I don’t know. I’ve lost count, over seventy? People don’t really celebrate my birthday,” she said sadly.
“What year were you born?” Merlin asked. Arthur frowned at the strange questions, but Merlin seemed to have an idea.
“1932 on th-”
“What?” Arthur’s eyes widened. “But, that’s not even- I mean, you can’t- for, you’re not from-” He looked at Merlin, who looked as stunned as he did, but with a hint of acceptance in his eyes, and Arthur knew that Merlin had already suspected the fact.
“Thank you, Myrtle,” Merlin said, pulling Arthur up by the shoulder. Arthur went along with the movement, feeling slightly numb. There was no such time yet, it wasn’t real. And yet this ghost -as she had called herself, and what sort of creature was that anyway?- had obviously lived through it. If she was as old as she said she was, then it had to be-
He stopped his flow of thought. “This is not real.”
Continued here...