Destiny, Dragons and Distractions [2/3] - Merlin - Arthur/Merlin
Title: Destiny, Dragons and Distractions [2/3]
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Word Count: 2555
Rating: PG-13
Previously: Part One
Summary: After one night spent together, Merlin leaves Camelot and Arthur behind. When he returns years later, Arthur struggles to set things right.
He didn't respond verbally to Morgana's announcement for a moment or two, allowing her words to sink into his consciousness. Merlin. Back. He breathed in and out through his nose, then settled his gaze back on Morgana.
"Where is he now?"
"The guards arrested him. They say he was trying to break into the castle." She paused nervously, glancing around the room as if inspecting it. She didn't look back towards him as she said, "They think he's a sorcerer."
And that was such a ridiculous suggestion that Arthur laughed - one dry puff, before the severe expression on Morgana's face made him stop. "This is Merlin. He's not nearly competent enough to even think about magic."
"We still don't know why he went away. What if this is the reason?"
Arthur had a keener insight into what had pushed Merlin away than his neutral expression suggested. He still dreamt of it sometimes, of the way that Merlin had smiled when they first kissed and the smooth, milky skin that Arthur had explored and corrupted.
He waved his servant forward. "Go to the dungeons, Edward. Tell the guards to bring Merlin before me."
It hardly seemed real to think that in such a short time Merlin would stand in this room once more.
"The king would never allow it, Arthur," Morgana said.
"Since when has my father's approval mattered to you?" Arthur asked, his words harsher than he would usually allow them to be. Their rivalry was supposed to be a game and nothing more. Nothing serious.
She stepped further into the room after Edward left and had closed the door behind himself. Her blue gown flowed down to the ground and the years that had passed had enhanced her beauty. Now her deep eyes were filled only with concern.
"He's been gone for so long. He's probably not the Merlin we knew - if, indeed, we ever knew him at all."
"And what's that supposed to mean?"
"The hands of the men who brought him in are badly burned. They're with Gaius even as we speak." She stepped closer to him, but Arthur still wouldn't rise from his seat at the table. "I trust Merlin too, Arthur. I think he's a good man. But… Be careful. That's all I ask."
It was difficult to face her down or even to meet her eyes right now. Arthur's eyes closed; he pinched the bridge of his nose. "I want answers," he said - because Merlin had been an idiot for leaving like that. He had to know why.
She smiled as if she understood, and placed a hand fleetingly on his broad shoulder. "I hope you find what you're looking for."
He doubted if that could ever happen, but he offered her a tense smile all the same. "Thank you. You're…" Talking to Morgana was always difficult when he wasn't snapping at her. "You aren't a bad friend."
Her smile was carefully teasing. "Oh, really?"
"Well, you could be worse," he said generously. "I suppose."
She arched an eyebrow at him. "And you yourself are a prime example of the perfect friend?"
"Of course. I'm royalty." That didn't really mean a thing in this situation, but it felt good to talk to her, to smile with her. Anything to take his mind off of Merlin and the confrontation that was awaiting him in the future.
Morgana looked over her shoulder at the door. "Do you want me to stay?" she asked.
A part of him did. Her presence at his side in a display of support would be such a relief, a rock to lean against - but another, stronger, more stubborn part insisted that this was something that he had to do alone. "You should go. It might be dangerous."
That was ridiculous.
This whole thing was ridiculous.
It was Merlin. How dangerous could he be?
He shivered unwillingly with that thought. Morgana was right. He really didn't know Merlin at all any more.
He stood from his seat once Morgana had left the room, leaving his meal half-eaten on the table. Edward could clear it away once he returned. It would be a good excuse to get him out of the way. This wouldn't be a conversation that he'd want anyone to be able to listen in on.
Too long passed as he waited.
Far, far too long.
He didn't pace, but he walked restlessly back and forth. Energy bound in his arms and legs, humming at him as he tried to imagine how this might go.
He'd hit him, wouldn't he? The second that Merlin's mouth opened to rattle off some irritating comment he would find that his fingers curled into a painfully tight fist and flew, knocking that annoying smile from Merlin's lips and replacing it with a bruise that would bloom red then purple over Merlin's jaw. Perhaps the impact would smash Merlin's bottom lip against his teeth and cause it to split painfully.
Arthur thought that after all these years he'd like to see a little bloodshed.
Or maybe he'd kiss him. Maybe he'd force Merlin to make up for all the years they'd missed out on. If Merlin had been brave enough to stay then Arthur would have had him in every position and on every surface that he could dream of by now. He'd know the shape and scent of Merlin's body even better than he knew his own.
The thought of all the time they had to make up for made Arthur's stomach clench and his cock twitch. God, Merlin was back.
He looked up, tense and startled, as the door opened, but it was only Edward.
"Well?"
"They're on their way, sire," the servant answered.
Arthur sighed in irritation. "What's taking so long?"
Purely rhetorical, but Edward squirmed. "No one wants to go near the prisoner. He's dangerous. Powerful."
Arthur rolled his eyes. "If he's so 'powerful' then he would have escaped by now."
"He's been saying that he wants to see you." Edward's head was bowed as he spoke, never looking up at the prince. "That he was won't leave until he's spoken to you."
"Still as stubborn as always…" Arthur muttered. It was almost a relief to know that at least that hadn't changed.
Almost. It was far from enough to soothe his nerves.
"You need to take my plate away," Arthur instructed, waving at the table. Obediently, the servant did exactly what was asked of him. Arthur looked away, listening to the sound of Edward clearing up behind him.
And then he left, and then Arthur was alone, and then there was nothing to do but wait.
He knew they were coming before he could hear them, as if there was a sixth sense that was highly attuned to Merlin's presence and had been lying dormant for years in hibernation. His senses tingled. His throat felt tight. He reminded himself that he was royalty, that he was above this, that it was Merlin who should have been terrified.
Yet his palms still felt sweaty when the door handle turned and Merlin was accompanied inside by two guards.
Merlin's wrists were bound together behind his back by thick, winding ropes and there was a white rag in his mouth, tied at the base of his neck. His jaw was scattered with thick, dark stubble and his clothes were ripped and showed heavy signs of wear. More than before, anyway. His eyes were as blue as Arthur remembered, but sadder, and so much older even than the years that had passed.
"Untie him," Arthur ordered tersely. "And for God's sake take that gag from his mouth."
The guards shared an uncomfortable glance with each other, seeming to wish they had the courage to question his instructions. He may not have been the king yet - but Arthur would certainly remember this once he was.
"If you won't do it, I will," Arthur warned, his eyebrows arched in a challenge.
It was enough to stir them into action, finally, as one tugged free the knots of the ropes and the other loosened the gag that stifled Merlin's mouth. Merlin spat the material out and Arthur waited for the smile he knew so well to bloom upon his face.
It didn't come.
Merlin's expression remained gave and serious - and it was wrong. This wasn't the Merlin from his memories; it wasn't the clumsy oaf who found it frustratingly easy to capture Arthur's attention. "Merlin…"
"I need to talk to you," Merlin said. He looked from side to side, at either of the guards flanking him. "Alone."
It was a bad idea. A very bad idea.
"You're not in much of a position to make demands." Arthur hated this tension that choked his body: Merlin was no enemy. "I've been told that you're a sorcerer."
"Arthur, this is important. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't."
God, that hurt far more than Arthur would ever admit. He wanted to know that Merlin had returned because of him - he wanted to hear Merlin admit that he'd missed Arthur even half as much as Arthur had missed him.
"Take him back to the dungeons," Arthur snapped. "Maybe a few more hours will loosen his tongue."
Merlin stepped forward, only to be stopped by the guards grabbing his upper arms. He hardly glanced at them, as if there was nothing they could do that concerned him. "Your life is in danger, sire. The entire kingdom is."
Arthur paused, his fingertips resting against the top of the table. It was cool to the touch as he stood beside it and the tactile sensation was enough to help him control his temper.
"The kingdom?"
"There's a plot to remove Uther from the throne and you from the line of succession."
"And how do you know this?"
"Just trust me."
Arthur stared at him coolly. He wanted to be able to trust him, but Merlin had simply been gone too long. "I can't," he said. "So you have to be a little more specific. How do you know? What do you know?"
Merlin gave a frustrated sigh. "It's one of your men. I don't know who yet - I will soon. You need to take precautions. Keep your guards at bay; only interact with those you know you can trust."
The guards at Merlin's side shifted nervously, glancing at each other. Arthur could see now why Merlin had wished to speak to him about this alone. Now paranoia would spread thick and fast throughout the palace. That would be the last thing they needed at a time like this.
"How do you know this?" he asked tensely. His father would no doubt use any methods that he felt necessary to rip the answer from Merlin's lips.
"You don't want to know," Merlin said. A bitter smile, an expression that should have been impossible for his previous naïve manservant, twisted Merlin's mouth. "You'll have to take my word for it."
Arthur shook his head. "Tell me."
He already knew. With Merlin in the room it was impossible to deny it. His skin tingled from his presence.
But he needed to know.
He needed to hear it.
He met Merlin's blue-eyed gaze and held it with some difficulty. "Tell me how you know," he repeated as his voice softened. It was practically a plea.
Merlin held his gaze and whispered one quiet word to the room, "Magic."
There it was, out in the open for the first time. Arthur could tell by the widening of Merlin's eyes that he was as shocked to have said it was Arthur was to hear it. Arthur leaned against the tabletop, his hands holding onto the edge.
Magic.
There was a world of power and sorrow in that single word alone.
"Thank you," Arthur said - for finally telling him, for coming back, for using that power to protect him. "Is that why you left?"
"My magic?" Merlin asked. He frowned as Arthur nodded. "Sort of. Not exactly. It's complicated."
"These things usually are."
Merlin nodded. "Can we talk about it without…" He gestured to the guards in the room.
Being alone with a self-confessed sorcerer was an action that his father would find reckless - Arthur tried to train his eye to see through the fog of memory to the monster that Merlin really was. It should not have mattered that they had been friends, once. Arthur should have been willing to lead him to the executioner's block himself.
But he nodded, and he asked the men to leave. Unhappy with the order but sworn to obey, they did as was demanded of them. Arthur waited until the door had closed before he returned his attention to Merlin.
"Sit down," he instructed, waving to one of the seats at the table.
"I'd rather stand."
"Sit. Sorcerer or not, Merlin, you are still one of my subjects."
It gave him a comforting thrill as he watched Merlin give in. He watched him with voyeuristic greed as Merlin stepped forward to the seat, drawing it out so that it was no longer tucked beneath the table and then sat down.
"Where have you been?" he sighed eventually, still standing while Merlin sat.
Merlin placed his elbows on the table, his head in his hands. "I had to go," he said, though that explained nothing at all.
"Where?" Arthur snapped. "Why?"
"Everything was going… wrong," Merlin said without looking back up at him. He seemed weak and tired, but Arthur knew that was likely to be an illusion. His guards had looked frightened. "I was distracting you; you were distracting me. I couldn't think clearly. I talked to the dragon and he said-"
"The dragon?"
"Yes." Merlin looked up, unsmiling. "The one that your father keeps imprisoned beneath the castle."
"And you talk to it?"
"I used to, when I lived here. He used to say that I had a destiny; that I was here to protect you." Merlin's hand ran over his jaw, over that dusting of dark facial hair. "Falling for you… That was never part of the plan. You should have seen how angry he was when he found out. I was ruining everything."
He smiled, a thin, distraction expression. His eyes were distant, thoughts lost in the past, and for a few moments Arthur could only gawk at him in disbelief.
"You left because a dragon told you to?"
Merlin rested his chin in the palm of his hand, elbow on the table. "When you say it like that it sounds a bit silly."
A bit? Arthur had to try to restrain himself from letting his frustration turn to violence. "You should have let me know you were leaving. For all we knew you were dead."
"You wouldn't have let me go."
That was certainly true, though Arthur's jaw tensed and he refused to confirm it. Surely Merlin knew at least the fundamentals of how to write if he'd been working with Gaius. A letter would not have been a great hardship for him.
He didn't look at Merlin for a few moments, until Merlin leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms over his chest, and said, "Prat."
It was the matching smile that bloomed on both their faces that let Arthur know that they would be alright - now that Merlin was finally back.
*
Part Three
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Word Count: 2555
Rating: PG-13
Previously: Part One
Summary: After one night spent together, Merlin leaves Camelot and Arthur behind. When he returns years later, Arthur struggles to set things right.
He didn't respond verbally to Morgana's announcement for a moment or two, allowing her words to sink into his consciousness. Merlin. Back. He breathed in and out through his nose, then settled his gaze back on Morgana.
"Where is he now?"
"The guards arrested him. They say he was trying to break into the castle." She paused nervously, glancing around the room as if inspecting it. She didn't look back towards him as she said, "They think he's a sorcerer."
And that was such a ridiculous suggestion that Arthur laughed - one dry puff, before the severe expression on Morgana's face made him stop. "This is Merlin. He's not nearly competent enough to even think about magic."
"We still don't know why he went away. What if this is the reason?"
Arthur had a keener insight into what had pushed Merlin away than his neutral expression suggested. He still dreamt of it sometimes, of the way that Merlin had smiled when they first kissed and the smooth, milky skin that Arthur had explored and corrupted.
He waved his servant forward. "Go to the dungeons, Edward. Tell the guards to bring Merlin before me."
It hardly seemed real to think that in such a short time Merlin would stand in this room once more.
"The king would never allow it, Arthur," Morgana said.
"Since when has my father's approval mattered to you?" Arthur asked, his words harsher than he would usually allow them to be. Their rivalry was supposed to be a game and nothing more. Nothing serious.
She stepped further into the room after Edward left and had closed the door behind himself. Her blue gown flowed down to the ground and the years that had passed had enhanced her beauty. Now her deep eyes were filled only with concern.
"He's been gone for so long. He's probably not the Merlin we knew - if, indeed, we ever knew him at all."
"And what's that supposed to mean?"
"The hands of the men who brought him in are badly burned. They're with Gaius even as we speak." She stepped closer to him, but Arthur still wouldn't rise from his seat at the table. "I trust Merlin too, Arthur. I think he's a good man. But… Be careful. That's all I ask."
It was difficult to face her down or even to meet her eyes right now. Arthur's eyes closed; he pinched the bridge of his nose. "I want answers," he said - because Merlin had been an idiot for leaving like that. He had to know why.
She smiled as if she understood, and placed a hand fleetingly on his broad shoulder. "I hope you find what you're looking for."
He doubted if that could ever happen, but he offered her a tense smile all the same. "Thank you. You're…" Talking to Morgana was always difficult when he wasn't snapping at her. "You aren't a bad friend."
Her smile was carefully teasing. "Oh, really?"
"Well, you could be worse," he said generously. "I suppose."
She arched an eyebrow at him. "And you yourself are a prime example of the perfect friend?"
"Of course. I'm royalty." That didn't really mean a thing in this situation, but it felt good to talk to her, to smile with her. Anything to take his mind off of Merlin and the confrontation that was awaiting him in the future.
Morgana looked over her shoulder at the door. "Do you want me to stay?" she asked.
A part of him did. Her presence at his side in a display of support would be such a relief, a rock to lean against - but another, stronger, more stubborn part insisted that this was something that he had to do alone. "You should go. It might be dangerous."
That was ridiculous.
This whole thing was ridiculous.
It was Merlin. How dangerous could he be?
He shivered unwillingly with that thought. Morgana was right. He really didn't know Merlin at all any more.
He stood from his seat once Morgana had left the room, leaving his meal half-eaten on the table. Edward could clear it away once he returned. It would be a good excuse to get him out of the way. This wouldn't be a conversation that he'd want anyone to be able to listen in on.
Too long passed as he waited.
Far, far too long.
He didn't pace, but he walked restlessly back and forth. Energy bound in his arms and legs, humming at him as he tried to imagine how this might go.
He'd hit him, wouldn't he? The second that Merlin's mouth opened to rattle off some irritating comment he would find that his fingers curled into a painfully tight fist and flew, knocking that annoying smile from Merlin's lips and replacing it with a bruise that would bloom red then purple over Merlin's jaw. Perhaps the impact would smash Merlin's bottom lip against his teeth and cause it to split painfully.
Arthur thought that after all these years he'd like to see a little bloodshed.
Or maybe he'd kiss him. Maybe he'd force Merlin to make up for all the years they'd missed out on. If Merlin had been brave enough to stay then Arthur would have had him in every position and on every surface that he could dream of by now. He'd know the shape and scent of Merlin's body even better than he knew his own.
The thought of all the time they had to make up for made Arthur's stomach clench and his cock twitch. God, Merlin was back.
He looked up, tense and startled, as the door opened, but it was only Edward.
"Well?"
"They're on their way, sire," the servant answered.
Arthur sighed in irritation. "What's taking so long?"
Purely rhetorical, but Edward squirmed. "No one wants to go near the prisoner. He's dangerous. Powerful."
Arthur rolled his eyes. "If he's so 'powerful' then he would have escaped by now."
"He's been saying that he wants to see you." Edward's head was bowed as he spoke, never looking up at the prince. "That he was won't leave until he's spoken to you."
"Still as stubborn as always…" Arthur muttered. It was almost a relief to know that at least that hadn't changed.
Almost. It was far from enough to soothe his nerves.
"You need to take my plate away," Arthur instructed, waving at the table. Obediently, the servant did exactly what was asked of him. Arthur looked away, listening to the sound of Edward clearing up behind him.
And then he left, and then Arthur was alone, and then there was nothing to do but wait.
He knew they were coming before he could hear them, as if there was a sixth sense that was highly attuned to Merlin's presence and had been lying dormant for years in hibernation. His senses tingled. His throat felt tight. He reminded himself that he was royalty, that he was above this, that it was Merlin who should have been terrified.
Yet his palms still felt sweaty when the door handle turned and Merlin was accompanied inside by two guards.
Merlin's wrists were bound together behind his back by thick, winding ropes and there was a white rag in his mouth, tied at the base of his neck. His jaw was scattered with thick, dark stubble and his clothes were ripped and showed heavy signs of wear. More than before, anyway. His eyes were as blue as Arthur remembered, but sadder, and so much older even than the years that had passed.
"Untie him," Arthur ordered tersely. "And for God's sake take that gag from his mouth."
The guards shared an uncomfortable glance with each other, seeming to wish they had the courage to question his instructions. He may not have been the king yet - but Arthur would certainly remember this once he was.
"If you won't do it, I will," Arthur warned, his eyebrows arched in a challenge.
It was enough to stir them into action, finally, as one tugged free the knots of the ropes and the other loosened the gag that stifled Merlin's mouth. Merlin spat the material out and Arthur waited for the smile he knew so well to bloom upon his face.
It didn't come.
Merlin's expression remained gave and serious - and it was wrong. This wasn't the Merlin from his memories; it wasn't the clumsy oaf who found it frustratingly easy to capture Arthur's attention. "Merlin…"
"I need to talk to you," Merlin said. He looked from side to side, at either of the guards flanking him. "Alone."
It was a bad idea. A very bad idea.
"You're not in much of a position to make demands." Arthur hated this tension that choked his body: Merlin was no enemy. "I've been told that you're a sorcerer."
"Arthur, this is important. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't."
God, that hurt far more than Arthur would ever admit. He wanted to know that Merlin had returned because of him - he wanted to hear Merlin admit that he'd missed Arthur even half as much as Arthur had missed him.
"Take him back to the dungeons," Arthur snapped. "Maybe a few more hours will loosen his tongue."
Merlin stepped forward, only to be stopped by the guards grabbing his upper arms. He hardly glanced at them, as if there was nothing they could do that concerned him. "Your life is in danger, sire. The entire kingdom is."
Arthur paused, his fingertips resting against the top of the table. It was cool to the touch as he stood beside it and the tactile sensation was enough to help him control his temper.
"The kingdom?"
"There's a plot to remove Uther from the throne and you from the line of succession."
"And how do you know this?"
"Just trust me."
Arthur stared at him coolly. He wanted to be able to trust him, but Merlin had simply been gone too long. "I can't," he said. "So you have to be a little more specific. How do you know? What do you know?"
Merlin gave a frustrated sigh. "It's one of your men. I don't know who yet - I will soon. You need to take precautions. Keep your guards at bay; only interact with those you know you can trust."
The guards at Merlin's side shifted nervously, glancing at each other. Arthur could see now why Merlin had wished to speak to him about this alone. Now paranoia would spread thick and fast throughout the palace. That would be the last thing they needed at a time like this.
"How do you know this?" he asked tensely. His father would no doubt use any methods that he felt necessary to rip the answer from Merlin's lips.
"You don't want to know," Merlin said. A bitter smile, an expression that should have been impossible for his previous naïve manservant, twisted Merlin's mouth. "You'll have to take my word for it."
Arthur shook his head. "Tell me."
He already knew. With Merlin in the room it was impossible to deny it. His skin tingled from his presence.
But he needed to know.
He needed to hear it.
He met Merlin's blue-eyed gaze and held it with some difficulty. "Tell me how you know," he repeated as his voice softened. It was practically a plea.
Merlin held his gaze and whispered one quiet word to the room, "Magic."
There it was, out in the open for the first time. Arthur could tell by the widening of Merlin's eyes that he was as shocked to have said it was Arthur was to hear it. Arthur leaned against the tabletop, his hands holding onto the edge.
Magic.
There was a world of power and sorrow in that single word alone.
"Thank you," Arthur said - for finally telling him, for coming back, for using that power to protect him. "Is that why you left?"
"My magic?" Merlin asked. He frowned as Arthur nodded. "Sort of. Not exactly. It's complicated."
"These things usually are."
Merlin nodded. "Can we talk about it without…" He gestured to the guards in the room.
Being alone with a self-confessed sorcerer was an action that his father would find reckless - Arthur tried to train his eye to see through the fog of memory to the monster that Merlin really was. It should not have mattered that they had been friends, once. Arthur should have been willing to lead him to the executioner's block himself.
But he nodded, and he asked the men to leave. Unhappy with the order but sworn to obey, they did as was demanded of them. Arthur waited until the door had closed before he returned his attention to Merlin.
"Sit down," he instructed, waving to one of the seats at the table.
"I'd rather stand."
"Sit. Sorcerer or not, Merlin, you are still one of my subjects."
It gave him a comforting thrill as he watched Merlin give in. He watched him with voyeuristic greed as Merlin stepped forward to the seat, drawing it out so that it was no longer tucked beneath the table and then sat down.
"Where have you been?" he sighed eventually, still standing while Merlin sat.
Merlin placed his elbows on the table, his head in his hands. "I had to go," he said, though that explained nothing at all.
"Where?" Arthur snapped. "Why?"
"Everything was going… wrong," Merlin said without looking back up at him. He seemed weak and tired, but Arthur knew that was likely to be an illusion. His guards had looked frightened. "I was distracting you; you were distracting me. I couldn't think clearly. I talked to the dragon and he said-"
"The dragon?"
"Yes." Merlin looked up, unsmiling. "The one that your father keeps imprisoned beneath the castle."
"And you talk to it?"
"I used to, when I lived here. He used to say that I had a destiny; that I was here to protect you." Merlin's hand ran over his jaw, over that dusting of dark facial hair. "Falling for you… That was never part of the plan. You should have seen how angry he was when he found out. I was ruining everything."
He smiled, a thin, distraction expression. His eyes were distant, thoughts lost in the past, and for a few moments Arthur could only gawk at him in disbelief.
"You left because a dragon told you to?"
Merlin rested his chin in the palm of his hand, elbow on the table. "When you say it like that it sounds a bit silly."
A bit? Arthur had to try to restrain himself from letting his frustration turn to violence. "You should have let me know you were leaving. For all we knew you were dead."
"You wouldn't have let me go."
That was certainly true, though Arthur's jaw tensed and he refused to confirm it. Surely Merlin knew at least the fundamentals of how to write if he'd been working with Gaius. A letter would not have been a great hardship for him.
He didn't look at Merlin for a few moments, until Merlin leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms over his chest, and said, "Prat."
It was the matching smile that bloomed on both their faces that let Arthur know that they would be alright - now that Merlin was finally back.
*
Part Three