Fic: Hunter's Blood (Arthur/Merlin) 1/4
Author/Artist: Ally
Title: Hunter's Blood
Word Count: 32,317
Pairing(s): Arthur/Merlin
Rating: NC-17
Warnings/Spoilers: Violence, gore, explicit sex, minor-character deaths (one which involves a child, non-detailed), bare-backing, cross-dressing (coerced and non-coerced).
Summary: Something is stalking through the streets of Camelot and taking its women. Arthur devises a plan to trap whoever is behind the deed with the brilliant idea of using Merlin as bait. The plan doesn't go as well as hoped, and Merlin winds up injured. How deep do Arthur's affections for his servant and friend run - what is he willing to do to save his life? How will a man who will be King choose to save his people from a deadly predator - and at what price?
Author's Note: Thank you to each and every one of my betas and my brit picker. I feel like there's actually a semblance of authenticity to it with your help. Also thanks to the people who bitched and whined at me to finish it, and who listened to me bitching and whining when I didn't think it was good enough or that I couldn't do it. It's good to have friends. This is now the largest thing I've written and I'm looking forward to doing the sequel, if there's enough interest for one.
Also - chosenfire28 was nice enough to do a cover art for me.
It can be found here
Welcome to Camelot, dear readers. A land of bliss and contentment - of a sort. A land free from magic and the people who wield it - not quite. A land with creatures of fantasy, kings and queens and princes and servants. Where knights partake of epic quests and battle dangerous evil doers. Where destiny can take a man to the ends of the world and back again. Where a prince and his manservant can be joined by fate - both kicking and screaming along the way. Allow me to introduce you to Prince Arthur Pendragon and his mostly-faithful manservant, Merlin. Two sides of the same coin - or so they say. Prince Arthur - blond, blue-eyed and a particularly tasty portrayal of the male gender. His chivalry only matched by his utter prattishness and absolute loyalty to those who may or may not deserve it. Merlin - dark haired, blue-eyed and lean in a graceful way. His loyalty met in equal measures by his stubbornness and belief in the good of man, even when there is none to find. Both men joined by fate, destiny and a love of chicken - here we begin our tale. I hope, dear readers, that you find yourself content in the web being woven for you as you peek into the lives of young Arthur and Merlin...
~
"Stop squirming, Merlin."
"I'm not squirming. I'm avoiding being stabbed to death." Merlin protested.
Arthur rolled his eyes. "It's a pin, Merlin. I hardly think it’s anywhere in the realm of a 'lethal weapon'. Besides, I'm not poking you."
"Not poking me?! I feel like I've run naked through a briar patch!"
Arthur grinned around the pin in his mouth. "I'm sorry, what was that? I couldn't make that out. You'll have to speak up."
Merlin's arms flailed through the seemingly endless yards of fabric that were muffling his protests and insults. He flinched as another pin jabbed him near the top of his leg. "OW! You did that on purpose!"
"I did no such thing, Merlin. Such actions are below me. Now hold still or I might do it again."
Merlin stilled, barely able to make out the shape of Arthur who was somewhere in front of him with the miniature swords. "I don't see why I'm doing this anyway. This is an absolutely ridiculous idea."
"It's a brilliant idea." Arthur leaned over and threaded another pin through the fabric surrounding his irate manservant.
“You’re only saying that because it’s your idea.”
“True. That doesn’t make it any less of a brilliant idea.” Arthur guided the final pin in and stood back to survey his progress. “Right, I think that about does it. You can take it off now. Gently. I don’t want any of the pins to fall out.”
Merlin tried to figure out the gentlest way to emerge from the prickly mass of material without further injuring himself. “I uh, don’t suppose you could help a little, sire? Please?” Merlin wasn’t above begging to avoid further injury. Especially when there was a large concentration of vicious looking pins around a part of Merlin that seemed to be retracting of its own volition, as though it knew it was in danger and was attempting to hide. Merlin wished he had the same ability. He felt a hand grasp his leg and looked down to see Arthur slowly and carefully bunching up the fabric. Merlin heaved a silent sigh of relief when Arthur’s hands finally edged over his hips, the majority of the danger passing with them. He moved his own hands down to help, but yelped when one was slapped.
“Don’t touch anything. You’ll ruin it. Just stand there and wait until I get you out,” Arthur sniped and resumed peeling Merlin from his prison.
Merlin grumped, “I don’t see how girls do this all the time. It’s torture.”
“That, Merlin, is because most girls have more sense than you. And all of them are capable of standing still for longer than three seconds without squirming like some animal’s run loose in their breeches.” Arthur smiled in triumph as he lifted the last layer off Merlin and carefully made his way over to the table, which was strewn with snippets of lace and frills.
“Most girls don’t wear breeches,” Merlin mumbled as he took stock of his injuries. Arthur pretended to ignore him and went to lay the bundle down, only there didn’t seem to be a clear spot. He looked expectantly over at Merlin, who was examining his midriff and the speckling of red dots over it in dismay.
“Didn’t poke me, huh?” Merlin glared over at Arthur, who was still looking at him with raised eyebrows. “What?”
“The table, Merlin. Clear it, so I can put this down.” Arthur shook his head at Merlin, who started clearing a spot for Arthur’s burden. Arthur gently placed the bundle of fabric on the table and stood back, a proud smile on his face.
“Doesn’t look like much, does it?” Merlin rubbed absently at his stomach with a tilted head as he tried to see what Arthur meant by ‘finished’.
“It will when it’s sewn.” Arthur glared over at Merlin.
“Really? That’s going to magically turn from a pile of mismatched fabric and… I don’t even know what that is… into a dress?” Merlin gestured derisively at said ‘dress’.
Arthur folded his arms and put a little more heat behind his glare. “Yes, Merlin. That is going to be a dress. Your dress.”
Merlin’s shoulders dropped and he looked resignedly over at his master. “I think I hate you.”
Merlin’s obvious discomfort with Arthur’s brilliant plan brightened the prince’s mood. “I believe you’ve stated that, quite emphatically. Nonetheless, you’re still wearing it.” Arthur’s smile widened at Merlin’s groan.
“Why can’t you get one of your knights to wear this? I’m sure they’d be happy to assist you with this ‘brilliant’ plan of yours,” Merlin asked hopefully.
“And I’ve told you, none of them would be able to pass as a girl. They’d all look like a man wearing a dress. You’re the only one… small enough to get away with it.” Arthur quickly hid his smirk behind a serious expression.
Merlin wasn’t fooled. “Something tells me ‘small’ isn’t the word you’re looking for.”
Arthur struggled to maintain a serious expression. “Well, you have to admit it. You are a bit… dainty.”
Merlin’s mouth gaped in an ‘o’ of outrage as he glared at Arthur, who promptly burst into laughter. “I am not bloody dainty,” Merlin huffed. “At least I’m not the one who needs to parade around in a ridiculous amount of clothing in pretty colours.” Merlin stalked over to the table and started cleaning up the unused bits.
“Oh come on, Merlin. I know you’re manly… ish.” Arthur ducked the bob of lace tossed at his head. “You throw like a girl, though.”
Merlin switched tactics to ignoring the extremely annoying and prattish prince who continued to giggle behind him, which Merlin considered to be very girlish. He swept the snips of material and loose threads into a basket with his arm and stomped over to pick up the lace bob that unfortunately missed smiting the still-snickering brat. Then this plan would never have to happen and Merlin wouldn’t have to humiliate himself by wearing a dress. Not that he’d call the mangled heap of cloth a dress. He hoped Arthur nicked a vein while sewing and bled to death all over his ‘pretty dress’. That’d teach him. Sewing wasn’t a very manly hobby, if you asked him. Merlin suddenly imagined borrowing some of Morgana’s cosmetics and sneaking into Arthur’s chamber while he slept and painting his face garishly. He stifled a snort at that and went back to tidying. Arthur glanced over at him suspiciously. Merlin ignored him and picked up the last of the extras. “I’ll leave you to your sewing then, sire.” Merlin grinned as he left Arthur’s chambers.
Arthur frowned at his suddenly cheerful servant as he left and suppressed a desire to shudder. It was ridiculous to be afraid of the scrawny idiot, but sometimes there was a mischievous gleam in Merlin’s eye that worried him. Arthur shook off his imagined dread and turned to his masterpiece. Merlin was obviously blind as well as mentally afflicted if he couldn’t see how wonderful this dress would be when he’d finished with it.
Arthur had picked up sewing in his early teens when he’d been out on extended hunting trips with his father and Morgana. He’d torn his breeches and had made the mistake of dropping them in Morgana’s lap and telling her to ‘do what girls do’ and sew them for him. Taking his bow and going off into the forest to catch some small game for their dinner, he’d come back with two pheasants and a hare only to discover that Morgana had cut out the stitching of every garment he wasn’t wearing. After Uther had stopped laughing, which Arthur thought took far too long considering the seriousness of the situation, he’d meted out his ‘punishment’. Morgana and Arthur were to stay at camp the next day and miss out on the hunt. Morgana, for her part, was to teach Arthur to sew by mending his ripped breeches. Arthur, for his, was to learn to sew and mend his own garments, minus the breeches Morgana was mending. When Uther had come back to camp late that afternoon and seen Arthur sitting miserably in possibly the worst stitched pair of breeches and tunic, he’d burst out laughing again. Arthur was forced to wear his horribly assembled outfit back to Camelot, his cheeks burning the entire way. As soon as he was in his chambers, he’d ripped off the offending clothes and stood naked and humiliated, glaring at the discarded pile. It was at that moment that Arthur first showed the tenacity that he exudes along with his confidence. He refused to be beaten by something a girl could easily do. Wrapping himself in a robe, he had called for a servant to bring him a sewing kit. For two weeks, Arthur stayed in his chambers, stitching and unstitching the tunic and breeches. At the end of it, he could barely tell the difference between his stitching and that of any of his other clothing. Proudly, he’d put the outfit back on and had gone to dinner in it. Uther had raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Morgana had smirked, but nodded in acknowledgement.
Arthur grinned at the memory. He may have learned the hard way, but he’d bloody well learned. He was doing this himself to avoid Morgana somehow finding out. He knew she’d pester him to be involved; possibly as the bait, and that just wasn’t going to happen. Putting Merlin in peril was already grating at Arthur’s brain. If Arthur thought he could have feasibly passed as female, he would have been the bait himself, but as he’d stated to Merlin; he would just look like a man in a dress, albeit a very pretty man in a dress. Threading a needle, he set about creating his ‘masterpiece’, his mind already trying to figure out how best to hide Merlin’s face and where one could possibly purchase a wig in Camelot. Arthur had serious doubts there was a wig made in all of Albion that would be able to hide Merlin’s ears. They’d have to make do with what was available.
~
“Get that stuff away from me!” Merlin blocked Arthur’s arm with his own as he hastily backed away.
Arthur proceeded to corner Merlin beside his wardrobe. “If you don’t stop flailing, I’m going to dump most of this on you.”
“It smells like a dung heap!” Merlin cringed, trying to edge himself behind the wardrobe.
“It does not! I paid good money for this.” Arthur frowned, bringing the bottle to his nose and giving it a small sniff. It was rather pungent, but the merchant he’d purchased it from assured him that after a small amount of time, the harshness wore off and it smelled like a field of flowers. Arthur had never smelled a field quite like this, but since he didn’t run around randomly sniffing meadows, he’d taken the merchant at his word. The horrified and disgusted look on Merlin’s face told him he may have been cheated. “It’s supposed to smell like wildflowers.”
Merlin snorted. “Sure, a whole field of wild manure flowers.”
Arthur’s frown deepened as he took in his manservant, who had managed to utilize his scrawniness and was now mostly crammed between the large wardrobe and the wall. “I hope you get stuck.”
“You’d get me out. Who else would you get to humiliate if I waste away to nothing back here?”
Arthur’s frown lifted as he put the stopper back in the bottle and placed it on a table. “To say that you would waste away implies that you have anything to waste, Merlin.” He walked over to stand with arms crossed as he studied Merlin, who had almost managed to come out the other side. “You’re unbelievable. You do know that, right?”
Merlin wriggled out from the other side of the wardrobe, catching his foot and tripping to land by Arthur’s foot with an ‘oomph’. “I believe it’s been made clear to me before, sire.” Merlin grinned cheekily up at Arthur, who fought the urge to answer with his own grin. “I’ll borrow some of Morgana’s… if I even need it at all.”
“I’m trying to avoid her finding out what we’re doing, Merlin. She’s wound up about this enough. If she knew what we had planned, she’d lead the bloody charge out in nothing but her knickers.” Arthur cringed at the thought. Morgana was a lovely woman, but over the last couple years his interest had gone from admiring her as a female to feeling as though she was part of his family. And this wasn’t Northumbria. You don’t do those sorts of things to your family members in Camelot. He had it on good authority that the current King and Queen of Northumbria were first cousins. It explained, in Arthur’s mind, why most of the Northumbrian nobility looked as though they were related to a horse. Or possibly a Wilderen.
“She’s just worried about Gwen.” Merlin’s grin dimmed. Thankfully, nothing had happened to Guinevere. Yet. But with some unknown entity wandering the streets of the lower town of Camelot during the dark hours and stealing its women, there was always a possibility that Guinevere could be next. Morgana had taken to requesting her maid to stay at the castle under the guise of needing someone to ease her nightmares. No one was fooled by the thinly veiled excuse, but no one was willing to contest it and deal with Morgana’s wrath.
“As am I. Which is why this plan needs to work. Seven girls have been abducted within a fortnight. Every second night, one goes missing. There’ve been whispers that it’s foreign slavers. Tonight’s the second night, Merlin. Whatever or whoever they are, this is going to end.” Arthur’s face was lined with resolve. Resolve to not let down his people, his kingdom. True, it wasn’t his yet, but Arthur considered that a triviality. You don’t start to care about your people when a crown is placed on your head. His responsibility wasn’t a convenience, and he refused to treat it as such. He heaved a sigh and glanced over at Merlin, who had pulled himself to his feet and was picking cobwebs out of his hair. “Seems you’ve been remiss in your cleaning duties, eh Merlin?”
Merlin blinked at Arthur. “Who cleans behind wardrobes? No one goes back there.”
Arthur smirked. “Mostly no one. Only scrawny, disobedient manservants.”
“I’m not scrawny,” Merlin huffed. “I’m just… lean.”
Arthur covered his mouth and muffled ‘dainty’ with a cough. From the heated glare being directed at him, he didn’t think he’d done a very good job of camouflaging it. “There are a few hours before dark. Go grab some dinner for us both while I put the finishing touches on your dress. We’ll get you outfitted after.” Merlin stalked off, muttering something about prats and princes with overly large heads as he went to do as he was ordered. Arthur unrolled the dress he’d been working on, a flutter of pride in his chest. It was one thing to stitch things together that had already been stitched. It was a completely different thing to make something from nothing. He doubted he’d win any prizes for fashion, but it would serve its purpose. Its purpose being disguising his gangly manservant as a gangly female. Shaking it out, he settled on the corner of his bed and set about finishing what needed to be finished so that it would be ready for Merlin to go out and be bait tonight. Another flutter went through Arthur’s chest, completely separate from the emotion of pride. Arthur refused to name it as fear.
~
“Don’t laugh.”
Arthur rolled his eyes at the figure hidden behind the changing screen. “Oh come on, Merlin. As previously stated, it’s my brilliant idea. You can’t look that ridiculo-…” Arthur’s words trailed off as Merlin emerged from behind the screen, face and eyes lowered and a blush blazing across his cheeks and up to his ears. Which, Arthur was right, were not hidden by the wig, although with the surplus of hair, they looked less enlarged and more... elfin. They’d gone with a dark one, similar to the colour of Merlin’s own hair in case there were any escaping wisps. It was long and soft and curled into soft rings at the ends. The sheer amount of it brought out the milky paleness of Merlin’s skin, making his eyes seem like they held different depths of blue, making them more noticeable than they normally were - when Merlin finally raised them to gauge Arthur’s reaction. The dress helped, being a medley of dark and light blues, to bring out small spots of a light blue Arthur hadn’t noticed in Merlin’s eyes before. The fabric was light, but plentiful; the bodice hugging curves Arthur hadn’t noticed either. The sleeves were long and belled, trailing against Merlin’s fingers, adding to their delicate appearance. The skirt was panelled, the lighter blue layered over the darker and adding length to Merlin’s already tall frame. The waist was cinched by the bodice, letting the skirt ripple outward as he moved. When he stopped, it settled softly against his legs. Merlin had obviously been worrying his lips, since they were both rosy and plump looking. Arthur’s tongue flicked out to wet his own as he struggled for something to say. Anything. “You’re actually quite pretty.” Arthur groaned internally, since that was the wrong anything to say. “For a boy dressed up like a girl.” There, that was better.
Merlin smirked, making his lips look entirely too enticing. “And the dress is actually quite nice,” he paused as he ran slender fingers down the material, “for having been made by you. I expected more glitter and stones. Maybe some feathers.”
Arthur twitched his lips and gave Merlin a wicked grin. “It’s not too late to add a few things.”
Merlin paled, eyes widening as he held out both hands. “No, no. It’s good. Very pretty. Just the way it is, sire.”
“You’re supposed to be passing as a townswoman. When have you seen any of them wearing anything with gemstones and feathers? Although, if it was winter, I might have added some fur trim…” Arthur mused, ignoring Merlin’s indignant snort. Arthur smiled and lifted his hand to twirl his finger around. Merlin stared at him in confusion. “Turn around, Merlin. I want to see what it’s like all the way around.”
Merlin did some eye-rolling of his own as he moved in a slow circle for Arthur to see the full effect. Arthur refused to acknowledge that in a dress, Merlin had a rather nice looking arse. He blamed it on the material and his amazing sewing abilities. He also refused to admit that Merlin made a rather pretty girl. It was, of course, due to him being a ridiculous parody of a male, or so Arthur told himself. He was most certainly not noticing how Merlin seemed more graceful when his limbs were hidden by material that brought out his definitely-not-lovely eyes. “Satisfied?”
Arthur nodded, then went over to the chair and grabbed the cloak Merlin was to use while wandering the lower streets. “Here you are, Marie.” He was amused by how differently Merlin’s glare looked when surrounded by long hair. It seemed both less and more, if that made any sense. They’d decided that Merlin needed a female’s name; in case anyone in town conversed with him or if Arthur or one of the knights had to interact with him while they were incognito. Arthur and a small contingent of his knights would be dressed as labourers, rough clothes and cloaks hiding their light armour and weaponry. They’d be trailing Merlin as he wandered the streets, trying to draw the attention of whoever had been nabbing the females.
Merlin snatched the cloak and swung it about to settle over his shoulders. “Have I mentioned how much I hate you?”
“I believe that’s come up before, yes. Now stop frowning, Marie. You’ll get wrinkles.” Arthur laughed as he ducked the blow aimed at him and grabbed his own cloak. Walking over to his chamber door, he opened it and swept a low bow, “After you, milady.”
Two spots of colour burned on Merlin’s face as he stomped over to the open door. “I don’t know how and I don’t know when, but I will get you back for this… sire.” Merlin glared down his nose at a still laughing Arthur before storming out of the room and down the hall. Arthur thought Merlin might have been taking lessons from Morgana on dramatic exits.
~
They managed to leave the castle and make their way to town without being noticed by anyone, Arthur meeting up with his knights at a predefined location. Merlin split off from the group and started wandering through the town by himself, stopping at certain shops to look over trinkets he thought girls would probably look over. As the sun began to set, the merchants and citizens that frightened easily were already packing up and heading home to bar themselves in. The veteran merchants brazenly kept their shops and stalls open after night fell in open defiance of the fear lacing the town. Arthur and his knights spread out over the streets on either side of Merlin, conversing with the more brave residents who were adamantly trying not to let fear alter their routines. Arthur noticed the only women that braved the streets were well into their prime, not concerned in the slightest that they’d be of any interest to any slavers or creatures. Merlin ducked into and out of some of the more respectable taverns, keeping sure to avoid the less reputable areas of Camelot. Considering how strictly Arthur enforced the guards and patrolling of Camelot, it was hard pressed to be the mire of scum and poverty that most large cities boasted. They passed the next few hours in this way, Merlin stopping at a tavern and talking with the townspeople while Arthur and his knights kept an eye out for anything suspicious. A few times, Arthur or one of his knights had had to come to ‘Marie’s’ aid when one of the townsfolk would insist a little too hard on escorting ‘her’ home. For her safety, of course. Usually while he was gripping Merlin’s waist a little too hard or too low for the actual meaning to be lost. At which point a member of Arthur’s group would come strolling along and rescue ‘Marie’, thanking the man for attempting to aid his ‘sister’, but that they could take it from there. Merlin shuddered at the look of undisguised lust in the faces of some of his would-be rescuers and thanked every deity that existed that he’d been born a man. He wondered what the look on their faces would be if they found out they’d been hitting on the prince’s manservant. He snorted, drawing a look from Sir Leon, who had just finished sending another ‘good Samaritan’ on his way.
“You know, Marie, this would be a lot easier if you weren’t enticing so much ‘assistance’.” Leon grinned.
Merlin sniffed, glowering over at him. “I’m not enticing anyone. I’m just talking. I’m of the sound belief that the men of Camelot are all perverted letches who need a lesson in manners.”
This earned him a laugh from the usually stoic Sir Leon. “I don’t think you’re giving yourself enough credit. You make an absolutely lovely and convincing woman.”
Merlin frowned and turned away from Leon. “I’m not dainty.”
“I never said you were.” Leon raised an eyebrow.
“You were thinking it.” Folding his arms across his chest, Merlin tossed his head, causing the longer strands of hair to fly over his shoulder in a particularly feminine way. Changing the subject, Merlin looked up at Leon from under long lashes, “Do you think whatever’s taking the women will fall for me as bait?”
Leon blinked at the almost coy look Merlin was giving him, then mentally shook himself as he realised Merlin was just being Merlin. No flirtation intended. “I think you’ve fooled half the town into believing you’re female - and a desirable one at that. I don’t see why you wouldn’t be an adequate target for our foe.”
The smile that lit up Merlin’s face seemed brighter than it did when he wasn’t playing a girl. “Well, as long as some good comes out of this humiliation, I suppose I can live with it.” Merlin sighed overdramatically.
Leon smirked and patted him on the shoulder. “Think of it this way - it’s for the good of Camelot.” Ignoring the indignant snort, Leon made his way back to his seemingly aimless wanderings about town.
~
It was coming up to midnight when it happened. One minute Merlin was walking along a deserted street, grumbling unhappily to himself about pig-headed princes and dresses that didn’t keep one nearly warm enough - the next, he felt himself jerked into the shadows between two shops. A hand was over his mouth to keep any screams from leaving it and Merlin almost gagged at the smell coming from it. The flesh on the fingers was a rancid brown colour, mottled with dark spots and carrying a decaying sweet smell reminiscent of corpses. The fingers seemed cadaverously skeletal, but the fragility of their appearance was belied by the strength with which they held Merlin. Another arm was wrapped tightly around Merlin’s waist, holding him rigidly. Merlin struggled and kicked at the body behind him, but it was like kicking a stone wall and just as effective. He heard a hissing in his ear and felt something cold burrow through the wig to rest on his neck. A second later he realised whatever had hold of him was smelling him. And if the tightening of the body behind him or the almost contended sigh it gave was any indication, it liked what it smelled. For a brief moment, Merlin wished he’d let Arthur douse him with that repulsive perfume. Merlin struggled harder, his yells muffled by the unmoving hand. He knew Arthur and the knights would be coming, since it had probably looked like he’d disappeared into thin air, but since he wasn’t sure what held him, let alone what it wanted, that thought did little to comfort him. Merlin felt himself dragged further into the shadows as one of the knights passed them, obviously searching for Merlin. Something scraped on his neck, dragging painfully before Merlin felt icy trickles of fear down his spine as the realisation that he might not be found in time hit him. Running out of time and ideas, he did what came naturally to him; he used his magic. Fuelled by fear and desperation, it may have come out a bit stronger than he’d intended, but it certainly did the trick. Both he and his captor were suddenly catapulted out of the shadows and into the almost empty street; almost empty but for the seven worried knights and the one irate and frantic prince.
There were exclamations of surprise as the duo landed roughly on the ground, Merlin feeling the crush of whatever held him as it stayed fixed to his back. One of the knights, Sir Gawain, had a torch and from Merlin’s view, which was from the ground and at an angle, it seemed like Gawain was brandishing it at him. “Oi!” Merlin squirmed to try to get away from both the body on top of him and the fiery brand being prodded in his direction. Leon moved close enough to reach down and grab his arm, pulling Merlin away from what had attacked him. The knights had formed a circle around Merlin and their prey, now tightening it as Merlin was removed from harm’s way. Brushing hair out of his face, Merlin peered around Leon’s shoulder, finally getting a look at what had grabbed him. He couldn’t stop the startled gasp that left his mouth. The creature - for he refused to compare it to a person - was standing upright, hunched into the tattered rags that covered it. The mottled, parchment skin Merlin had noted on the hand covering his mouth wasn’t confined to that appendage. Through gaps in the rags and the visible skin on the face and arms, the sickly brown covered it, blotches of rotted mottling speckling it. No hair covered its head, its gauntness displayed in the skeletal features of its face. It hissed at the men encircling it, showing a set of fangs that would make a cobra proud. Spittle flew from its mouth as it continued hissing, using an arm to shield its eyes from the glare of the torch. Eyes that were red and black; red irises with black replacing the whites of a person’s eyes. Arthur had his sword drawn - as did all the knights - and he made a feint for the creature. It lashed out with a lightning fast swipe of its hand, fingers curled and baring wicked claws to match its teeth.
Drawing the circle in closer, the knights held their swords at the ready, waiting for the command from their leader. They didn’t have to wait long. Each knight plunged their sword into the tattered creature before them. Each knight let out a sound of surprise as they had to pull hastily back to avoid skewering one another. The creature had dissipated, reforming out of the circle; and close to Merlin. Its eyes fastened on Merlin, who was back-peddling away without noticing - until he hit the wall of the shop behind him. The knights moved into a half circle, the shop and Merlin keeping them from completing their circle. “Merlin,” Arthur called softly, “don’t make any sudden movements.”
Merlin turned wide-eyes to Arthur. “Wasn’t on my list of things-to-do, sire.” Keeping his back against the wall, Merlin bent down slowly, locking his eyes on the creature in front of him.
“What are you doing, you idiot! I said don’t move!” Arthur hissed, causing the creature to turn to him and answer with a hiss of its own.
Merlin stretched his fingers out until they caught the wood of the still-burning torch that Sir Gawain had dropped when he’d pulled his sword. Inching it over, he finally pulled it close enough to grasp, feeling slightly better with the torch than without it. “No, sire, you said ‘no sudden movements’. That was anything but sudden.” Merlin braced his back on the stone and used it to lever himself up again. Standing there, armed only with a measly stick that was on fire, Merlin felt slightly better about his situation.
The creature flicked its eyes between Merlin’s face and the fire in his hand. Merlin suddenly clued in to the fact that while it may scoff swords and be all but unaffected by them, it seemed to have an issue with fire. Merlin waved it tentatively in its direction, satisfied when it cringed back. “What is it?” Gawain asked.
“I don’t have the slightest. But the odds of there being two things nabbing the women lead me to believe this is our culprit. I say we kill it.” Arthur twirled his sword, placing himself at a better angle for a heart-blow.
“Your swords don’t seem to have that much of an effect... sire.” Merlin kept waving the torch between himself and the creature, which still seemed intent on Merlin and only Merlin.
“You have a suggestion, Marie?” Arthur asked sweetly, grinning at the scowl that crawled on Merlin’s face as most of the knight’s snorted in amusement.
“As a matter of fact, sire, I do.” And with that, he tossed the flaming torch at the creature.
It held out one frail-looking arm to ward off the blow, but that only deflected it down to its tattered robes; which promptly burst into flame. The creature gave off a shriek of pain and rage, arms flailing madly as it tried to put out the fire. Merlin used its distraction to sidle along the wall and back over to the knights, noticing the relief on Arthur’s face as he was no longer cut off from him and his men. Another horrible screeching wail came from the creature’s mouth before it moved faster than thought - there one moment, then fleeing through the streets the next. The speed it travelled at was impossible to match, causing Arthur and the knights to discontinue their chase a mere two streets into it. They caught brief flickers of it exiting the town and entering the forest, its screams echoing through the empty streets of the sleeping town. Sword still out, Arthur turned and strode back to Merlin. He eyed up his servant for a moment before asking what had been on his mind since he’d seen Merlin falling out of the shadows with that thing clinging to his back like an overgrown leech. “Are you alright?”
Merlin blinked, taking a moment to mentally assess himself. He’d probably have bruises on his stomach from being clung to so tightly while they fell, but otherwise he felt fine. He started to nod when Arthur reached out a hand and brought it to Merlin’s neck. Merlin felt Arthur’s fingers graze over his neck, which seemed sensitised for some reason - a brief brush of fingers shouldn’t feel like that. He noticed the concern on Arthur’s face as he looked at his fingers. Pulling them away, he turned his wrist to show them to Merlin. That’s when Merlin noticed the blood staining them. Frowning in confusion, he lifted his own hand to touch wounds that caused him no pain. Staring at the blood dripping from his fingers blankly, he finally raised his eyes to Arthur’s. “Oh...” Merlin said softly before promptly passing out.
~
Arthur paced mentally, since he couldn’t afford to physically show his concern over a mere servant. Even if that servant had somehow managed to become his friend and confidant. He was perched on a rickety stool in the corner of Gaius’s workshop, hovering without actually hovering. Arthur had experienced a harder, sharper flutter of fear when Merlin had collapsed. His knights had quickly gathered him up and they’d made for the castle at a good speed. Gaius was asleep - as anyone should be in the middle of the night - but had quickly come alert at the sight of Merlin’s unconscious form. He’d made the knights who weren’t carrying him drag his bed into the centre of the room so he could examine Merlin properly. He blinked in surprised confusion as he took in the fact that Merlin appeared to be wearing a dress, complete with a long wig. Raising an eyebrow at Arthur, he knelt beside the bed. Running his hands swiftly over the unconscious boy, he ascertained there were no broken bones or internal injuries. Seeing the blood peeking through strands of the wig, Gaius shifted it aside to seek the source. “What happened?”
“We were trying to put an end to the abductions. We’d decided on using Merlin as bait to draw the culprit out. It worked. Only, the thing wasn’t human. I think... I think it bit him.” Arthur frowned as he gazed down at Merlin, watching Gaius probe the angry looking punctures. Needing something to distract himself, he turned to his still-waiting and concerned looking knights. “Leon, inform the night-watch about this... creature. I want patrols in Camelot doubled. Each pair is to have a torch with them at all times while on duty. Kay, take Gawain and Tristan and make the castle rounds to ensure all the current watch know of the new orders. Gavin, Hector and Broderick, you’ve done well. You’re dismissed for the night. I’ll expect all of you to be at the Great Hall to debrief with my father first thing in the morning.” Finishing his orders, he turned his attention back to Gaius, who was dabbing lightly at the wounds.
“When you say that you don’t think it was human, sire, what do you mean exactly?”
“Just that, Gaius. It was definitely not human. It was like a flesh-covered skeleton with black and red eyes and fangs. Humans do not have fangs like a snake. It moved faster than we could see. One moment, Merlin was walking in our sights, the next he was just gone.” Arthur’s eyes refused to move from the form of his friend. A small smile flitted on his face, “It didn’t seem all that happy when Merlin threw a torch at it. It has some aversion to fire.”
Gaius’s eyebrows did an intricate dance of sorts as he took this all in. “And the reason Merlin’s wearing a dress?”
Arthur blushed. “It was taking girls. We needed a ‘girl’ as bait. I certainly wasn’t going to ask any of the serving maids to volunteer. Besides, it worked.” Arthur hated feeling like he had to justify his actions, especially to the elderly physician. He realised that Gaius’s concern for Merlin came from a place of love, therefore he felt obligated to explain. “He’ll be alright... won’t he?”
Gaius used the frame of the bed to help lever himself up. “I don’t know, sire. The wounds don’t look grievous, but he seems paler; indicating blood loss. I’m reminded of something...” Gaius trailed off as he went over to his books, finger skipping over several titles before an exclamation signified he’d found what he was looking for. Pulling the book out, he went over to the table and opened it. He put his glasses on, sliding them up so they settled comfortably before he began to flip through the brittle pages. The flipping stopped and he began to skim with his finger again, frowning as he read further. “Was this it, sire?” Turning the book so that Arthur could see, he pointed at the picture which depicted a duplicate of what Arthur had seen earlier.
“Yes,” Arthur said excitedly. “What is it?”
The heavy sigh that followed his affirmation let him know he wouldn’t like what was coming. “It’s a vampyre, sire. An undead creature of the darkest arts. They are the end result of necromancers, sorcerers that work with death magic. Over the years of working with such dark and tainted magic, it seeps into the flesh and soul of the person wielding it. When one dies, they rise from their graves as a vampyre. The more powerful the necromancer, the more powerful the vampyre. They are predators, feasting on the blood of the living. The sun is deadly to them, making them nocturnal hunters. Being creatures of dark arts, they cannot be in the presence of religious artefacts. Holy water will wound them. They also cannot bear the touch of pure silver. It says here that a vampyre will make a nest, somewhere enclosed from the light of day. They hunt after dark, abducting and feasting on humans. If their victim dies from the infection a vampyre injects with its bite, they will then rise from the graves themselves as thralls; minions of the vampyre that made them. Thralls also need to feed on the blood of the living.” Gaius lifted his eyes to Arthur’s. “If there is a vampyre close to Camelot, it will need to be destroyed before the entire town falls prey to it and the children it creates.”
Arthur turned to look at Merlin. “It bit him. What does that mean for him?”
Gaius skimmed the next page, brows lifting as he found what he sought. “Since Merlin was not the victim of a true feeding - more of a sampling, the infection has not been properly injected into him. We have time to cleanse the wound.”
“What do you need?” Arthur had to do something, anything to keep him busy. To make him feel like he was doing something to help.
“A silver cross from the chapel, as well as a large dose of holy water, sire. I will need to wash the wound with holy water. The wound’s reaction to the silver will tell when the infection has been removed successfully.” Gaius went back over to the bed, reaching down to tug off the wig that had somehow miraculously stayed put. Giving the wig his best admonishment-by-eyebrow, Gaius set about removing Merlin from the rest of his disguise. Arthur turned to leave, feeling another flutter in his stomach as Gaius started peeling the dress from Merlin.
~
“Hold him down, sire!” Gaius kept a steady stream of holy water flowing over the bubbling wound.
Arthur was using his whole body to hold down Merlin; who still managed to half-lift Arthur off him as he screamed and struggled in an attempt to get away from the pain the holy water was causing him. Tears fell down Merlin’s face to mix with the sweat and water that soaked the pillow and bedding. “The scrawny twit is stronger than he looks,” Arthur panted out as he grabbed one of Merlin’s flailing hands and pinned it beneath him. They had been at this for a good hour, alternating between dousing the wounds with holy water and testing with the cross. The taint of the vampyre had the cross making a sick sizzle when it came into contact with Merlin’s torn skin. Merlin had regained consciousness when the first drop of water had hit him. He had screamed himself hoarse after the first fifteen minutes. Arthur thought the pain-filled whimpers and childish begging were almost worse than the screaming. “How much longer, Gaius?” Arthur’s stomach was a knot of nausea and guilt at what Merlin was going through. At what Arthur’s plan had resulted in. Regardless of the fact that they now knew what they were dealing with, Arthur didn’t like the price paid. Not when it was in someone else’s pain and suffering. Not when he cared about the person that suffered. Arthur quickly stuffed that thought into the back of his mind.
Gaius’s face was a tortured mask at what he was being made to do to Merlin. Even though it was for his own good and would save him from a worse fate, that didn’t make listening to the desperate pleadings and pained cries any easier. Brushing away the hair that stuck to Merlin’s sweaty brow in a gentle gesture, Gaius held the cross in his other hand. Looking down at Merlin’s fear-filled eyes, he whispered, “Almost done, my boy. It’s almost over,” before pressing the silver into Merlin’s reddened and blistered flesh. Merlin had squeezed his eyes in preparation for the pain, but his shocked look was mirrored by Gaius and Arthur when the cross sat silently and painlessly against Merlin’s neck. Crying in relief, Merlin tugged on his arm that was still pinned by Arthur. When it was hastily released, he brought it up to cover his eyes as he wept in gratitude that it was over. Arthur pretended not to notice when Gaius swiped a tear away from his own face.
“Is that it? Is it done?” Arthur wanted desperately to be anywhere but here, listening to Merlin’s soft sobs. The fluttering in his chest had moved down to settle into the knot in his stomach that twitched and writhed like a living thing with each pained sound that had left Merlin’s lips. Merlin had curled up on his side and his thin shoulders shook with the silent cries wracking him. Arthur could hear the stuttered breaths; each one twisting the roiling knot in his stomach.
Gaius knelt by the bed, stroking Merlin’s hair. “I believe so, sire. Merlin’s been cleansed of the infection and will be fine, if given time to recover.” Arthur didn’t imagine the censure in the tone. “For now, the boy needs rest.”
Arthur heaved an internal sigh of relief as he was given an excuse to leave. “Of course. I’ll come by to see how he’s doing tomorrow, but he’s dismissed from his duties until you feel he’s recovered.” Arthur turned to go, squashing the desire to do so hastily. Pausing at the door, he looked back at Gaius - who was still kneeling at Merlin’s side, comforting him. “Do you need anything else? Food or... something?”
Gaius looked up from Merlin to shake his head slowly at Arthur. “Not at the moment, sire.”
“There’ll be a guard posted near your room. If you do need anything, you won’t have to go far.” Arthur felt a little more at ease knowing he was doing something for his manservant. Even if it was by proxy of having someone close at hand to keep Gaius from having to stray far from him.
Gaius nodded before going back to soothing the still shaking boy. “Thank you, sire.”
Arthur left, knowing that even though he couldn’t hear them anymore, Merlin’s sobs and soft whimpers would follow him into a tormented sleep.
~
Arthur finally gave up the pretence of sleeping when he heard the morning changing of the guard. Kicking his blanket off, he lay staring blankly up at the bed’s canopy. The few snatches of sleep he’d caught had been filled with nightmares of Merlin’s cries and sobs echoing in the dark as the vampyre managed to escape with him. Arthur searching for him and finding him sitting in a clearing in the forest, covered in dirt and glaring at him with red-on-black eyes. Sitting up, he hung his legs over the side of the bed and scrubbed his face with his hands. This was going to be a long day - starting first with the debriefing of last night’s debacle with his father. Arthur groaned and hung his head. He got up and began to wash and dress himself for the day, noticing as he did so that he’d never realised how quiet it was in the mornings when Merlin wasn’t there to talk his ear off. Arthur decided to check in on Merlin before making his way to the kitchens. Checking with the guard by the physician’s quarters, he was informed that it had been a quiet and uneventful night. He knocked lightly on the door, not wanting to wake Merlin or Gaius if either was sleeping. He heard movement on the other side and was shortly greeted with the sight of a weary-looking Gaius. “Sire.”
“How is he?” Arthur reminded himself that it wouldn’t be very appropriate for him to push Gaius out of the way to allow him to see Merlin for himself.
“He’s still sleeping. His colour’s coming back and I managed to get some broth in him last night. It seems there won’t be any lasting damage from his ordeal.” Gaius said in a low voice. “Have you given your father your report, sire?”
Arthur told himself he was not adjusting his position to try to sneak a peek inside the room, his back was just sore from a night of tossing and turning. “I thought it best to check on Merlin first. I want to be able to apprise my father of the entire situation.”
Gaius smiled. “Of course, sire. I’m sure he’ll be up in a few hours, if you’d like to check his condition yourself.”
Arthur cleared his throat and twisted his ring on his finger. “Right. I’ll come by just before midday. As lazy as he is, he couldn’t possibly sleep that long.” Turning on his heel, he made his way down the hall, ignoring the chuckle he heard before the door closed. Arthur made his way quickly down to the kitchens, grabbing a hasty breakfast to eat as he prepared to meet with his father and his knights. Cramming the last of the cheese in his mouth, he rounded the corner to the throne room and saw all seven of the knights he’d taken last night waiting silently.
They all looked over at him as he strode up, a question on each of their faces. Leon was the one to voice it. “How is Merlin, sire?”
“Sleeping. Gaius says he’ll recover fully.” Arthur heard the collective sigh of relief at the good news.
“What was that thing, sire?” Gawain ran a hand through his short, reddish-blond hair. “I’ve never heard of or seen anything like that before.”
As Arthur opened his mouth to answer, the doors to the throne room were opened and they were ushered in to stand before the King. The knights stood in a solid line against Arthur’s back as he gave his report to Uther. When he got to Gaius’s discovery of what the creature was, he saw the disgust curl his father’s lips into a sneer. “The worst creature of all - a sorcerer who refuses to die. You will find a way to kill this thing and whatever others it may have spawned. I will not have a magical creature wandering freely through my kingdom.” Uther speared Arthur with a look that brooked no argument.
Arthur gave a sharp nod, noticing how Uther had failed to mention that he wouldn’t have a magical creature harming his people. “Of course, father. I’ll take a larger contingent of men into the woods to look for its nest. We will need to borrow some items from the chapel, with your permission.”
Uther gave a perfunctory nod which Arthur took as permission and a dismissal. Leaving, he tipped his head at his knights to follow after him. He addressed Leon as they made their way through the castle to the barracks. “I want you to send three men to the chapel - we need all crosses and icons that are able to be easily carried. Tell them to also fill as many flasks as they can carry with water. Get the priest to bless each flask. I also want any silver daggers brought to the barracks. Ornamental or not, they’ll do more good than our swords did. We may have had ineffective weapons last night, but I can promise you that we’ll show no quarter during our next confrontation.”
Leon nodded before dropping back to confer with Gawain, Broderick and Hector. Hector split off to go and grab the men to raid the chapel, Gawain to procure the water flasks to bring to the priest for blessing. Broderick left to see about gathering up a silver arsenal. Leon lengthened his stride to catch back up to Arthur. “Anything else, sire?”
Arthur looked over at Leon. “Go to Gaius’s and ask him if there’s anything else about this vampyre we need to know. Anything that will give us an advantage.”
Leon nodded, falling back to take the corridor to the physician’s quarters. Arthur arrived at the barracks with Gavin, Tristan and Kay and set the three knights to the task of selecting the guards to accompany them that afternoon. Arthur gave the Captain the information he needed to pass on to the rest of the guards and knights. They were going to be prepared for the vampyre. Notices were made and posted in the town commons to inform the residents of what exactly was plaguing them and the precautions they could take to avoid being attacked themselves. The morning passed in a flurry for Arthur as he and the knights equipped and readied themselves for the hunt. Because that’s what it was; a heavily armed hunting party going out to put down a rabid beast that was terrorising the kingdom. Arthur turned at the tap on his shoulder as he was stuffing provisions into his saddlebag. “Gaius would like to talk to you, sire. I think he needs some help convincing Merlin to stay in bed instead of trying to come down and saddle his own horse to come with us.” Leon rolled his eyes.
Arthur felt the coiled tension in his shoulders lessen; a tension he hadn’t even realised was there. If Leon was able to poke fun at Merlin, he must be better than he had been when Arthur had left last night. He shook his head to stop the memory of Merlin crying from surfacing. Grumbling to himself about idiot manservants that didn’t know their head from their arses, he took off for Gaius’s quarters with Leon chuckling behind him. Arriving at Gaius’s door, he opened it without knocking and strode in, eyes focusing on Merlin - who was sitting at the table spooning stew into his mouth. “Merlin, what is this ridiculous nonsense I’m hearing about you trying to come with us? Your obvious mental affliction must have worsened during the night if you somehow think you’d be any use to me during a hunt.”
Merlin spluttered indignantly through a mouthful and tried to hastily swallow to answer. “I could so be useful!”
“As what? Some huddled lump on the ground for me to trip over?” Arthur stood with his hands folded across his arms, a prattish expression on his face. Leon stood behind Arthur and to the side, doing his best to look like he wasn’t listening.
“I did fine last night with the torch.” Merlin glared at Arthur, also folding his arms as he retorted petulantly.
“Right. Fine, hmm? Certainly. You did a brilliant job of shoving your neck in its mouth. I especially liked the part where you fainted... like a girl.” Arthur noticed that yes, Merlin’s colour had come back. That was evident by the two circles of red staining his cheeks as Merlin was building up a fine temper. Arthur decided to ignore the blatant disrespect being shown a member of royalty in deference to being satisfied that Merlin was capable of such an act. It showed he really was back to normal. Well, as normal as Merlin could be.
“I’m not the one who had the wonderfully brilliant idea of dressing me up like a girl in the first place, you bloody prat.”
“When are you going to get it through that thick head of yours that you cannot talk to me like that, you bumbling moron.”
“Can and did...sire.” Merlin dragged out the ‘sire’ so that somehow he managed to make it sound like ‘pig-brained sodding arse’. Arthur quirked a brow.
“Merlin!” Gaius admonished from across the table. “Ill or not, that is no way to talk to anyone, let alone Prince Arthur.” Gaius lowered his chin, peering at Merlin from above the rim of his spectacles.
The two spots of colour spread as Merlin blushed in embarrassment, ducking his head. “I apologise, sire.” Ah, he’d only managed to make that sound like ‘pretentious git’. An improvement.
Arthur chose to ignore the implied insult. “Obviously you’re still not quite well, which is further proof that you’re in no condition to assist me in any way, shape or form.” Arthur kept the grin to himself as he noticed Merlin choke back another barrage. “Of course, if you’re mending so quickly, I will expect you to be back at your duties tomorrow.” Smiling smugly at Merlin, who was biting his lip to stay quiet, he turned his attention to Gaius. “I take it you’ve briefed Leon accordingly?”
Leon moved up to Arthur’s side, glad of the subject change. “I believe so, sire. We haven’t managed to go through all of the lore on the creatures, but we have discovered the ways to kill it. Silver will harm and incapacitate it. Holy water will burn it. Sunlight will kill it, so if we can find the lair during the day, all we need to do is drag it into a patch of sun. Decapitation will work as well. And no matter the way it dies, it’s best to burn the bodies completely, since it does indeed have a weakness against fire. This also applies to any thralls found; though they won’t be as strong or fast as the vampyre.”
Gaius motioned a hand to the three tomes he had splayed in front of him on his worktable. “The legends and stories surrounding these creatures are wide-spread and plentiful. There are numerous encounters and triumphs over them, as well as notations of entire villages and kingdoms wiped out by a single vampyre and its nest of thralls. Do not let your guard down around it or its children, sire. It is extremely dangerous. Some tales have told of the vampyres being able to use its gaze to enchant a victim into letting it feed from them.” Gaius lifted his spectacles off to rub at tired eyes. “I’ll continue to research what I can of it, though hopefully today will be fruitful and it won’t be necessary.”
“We’ve armed ourselves with what we can. When we come across it - and we will - there will be quite a different outcome from last night.” Arthur’s eyes strayed to the bandages around Merlin’s neck. Oh yes, he was prepared to meet the creature again, equipped with better knowledge of how to kill it. Arthur left with Leon behind him, both men’s faces set in grim lines of determination as they prepared to go forth and end the life of a monster.
~
Part 2
Title: Hunter's Blood
Word Count: 32,317
Pairing(s): Arthur/Merlin
Rating: NC-17
Warnings/Spoilers: Violence, gore, explicit sex, minor-character deaths (one which involves a child, non-detailed), bare-backing, cross-dressing (coerced and non-coerced).
Summary: Something is stalking through the streets of Camelot and taking its women. Arthur devises a plan to trap whoever is behind the deed with the brilliant idea of using Merlin as bait. The plan doesn't go as well as hoped, and Merlin winds up injured. How deep do Arthur's affections for his servant and friend run - what is he willing to do to save his life? How will a man who will be King choose to save his people from a deadly predator - and at what price?
Author's Note: Thank you to each and every one of my betas and my brit picker. I feel like there's actually a semblance of authenticity to it with your help. Also thanks to the people who bitched and whined at me to finish it, and who listened to me bitching and whining when I didn't think it was good enough or that I couldn't do it. It's good to have friends. This is now the largest thing I've written and I'm looking forward to doing the sequel, if there's enough interest for one.
Also - chosenfire28 was nice enough to do a cover art for me.
It can be found here
Welcome to Camelot, dear readers. A land of bliss and contentment - of a sort. A land free from magic and the people who wield it - not quite. A land with creatures of fantasy, kings and queens and princes and servants. Where knights partake of epic quests and battle dangerous evil doers. Where destiny can take a man to the ends of the world and back again. Where a prince and his manservant can be joined by fate - both kicking and screaming along the way. Allow me to introduce you to Prince Arthur Pendragon and his mostly-faithful manservant, Merlin. Two sides of the same coin - or so they say. Prince Arthur - blond, blue-eyed and a particularly tasty portrayal of the male gender. His chivalry only matched by his utter prattishness and absolute loyalty to those who may or may not deserve it. Merlin - dark haired, blue-eyed and lean in a graceful way. His loyalty met in equal measures by his stubbornness and belief in the good of man, even when there is none to find. Both men joined by fate, destiny and a love of chicken - here we begin our tale. I hope, dear readers, that you find yourself content in the web being woven for you as you peek into the lives of young Arthur and Merlin...
~
"Stop squirming, Merlin."
"I'm not squirming. I'm avoiding being stabbed to death." Merlin protested.
Arthur rolled his eyes. "It's a pin, Merlin. I hardly think it’s anywhere in the realm of a 'lethal weapon'. Besides, I'm not poking you."
"Not poking me?! I feel like I've run naked through a briar patch!"
Arthur grinned around the pin in his mouth. "I'm sorry, what was that? I couldn't make that out. You'll have to speak up."
Merlin's arms flailed through the seemingly endless yards of fabric that were muffling his protests and insults. He flinched as another pin jabbed him near the top of his leg. "OW! You did that on purpose!"
"I did no such thing, Merlin. Such actions are below me. Now hold still or I might do it again."
Merlin stilled, barely able to make out the shape of Arthur who was somewhere in front of him with the miniature swords. "I don't see why I'm doing this anyway. This is an absolutely ridiculous idea."
"It's a brilliant idea." Arthur leaned over and threaded another pin through the fabric surrounding his irate manservant.
“You’re only saying that because it’s your idea.”
“True. That doesn’t make it any less of a brilliant idea.” Arthur guided the final pin in and stood back to survey his progress. “Right, I think that about does it. You can take it off now. Gently. I don’t want any of the pins to fall out.”
Merlin tried to figure out the gentlest way to emerge from the prickly mass of material without further injuring himself. “I uh, don’t suppose you could help a little, sire? Please?” Merlin wasn’t above begging to avoid further injury. Especially when there was a large concentration of vicious looking pins around a part of Merlin that seemed to be retracting of its own volition, as though it knew it was in danger and was attempting to hide. Merlin wished he had the same ability. He felt a hand grasp his leg and looked down to see Arthur slowly and carefully bunching up the fabric. Merlin heaved a silent sigh of relief when Arthur’s hands finally edged over his hips, the majority of the danger passing with them. He moved his own hands down to help, but yelped when one was slapped.
“Don’t touch anything. You’ll ruin it. Just stand there and wait until I get you out,” Arthur sniped and resumed peeling Merlin from his prison.
Merlin grumped, “I don’t see how girls do this all the time. It’s torture.”
“That, Merlin, is because most girls have more sense than you. And all of them are capable of standing still for longer than three seconds without squirming like some animal’s run loose in their breeches.” Arthur smiled in triumph as he lifted the last layer off Merlin and carefully made his way over to the table, which was strewn with snippets of lace and frills.
“Most girls don’t wear breeches,” Merlin mumbled as he took stock of his injuries. Arthur pretended to ignore him and went to lay the bundle down, only there didn’t seem to be a clear spot. He looked expectantly over at Merlin, who was examining his midriff and the speckling of red dots over it in dismay.
“Didn’t poke me, huh?” Merlin glared over at Arthur, who was still looking at him with raised eyebrows. “What?”
“The table, Merlin. Clear it, so I can put this down.” Arthur shook his head at Merlin, who started clearing a spot for Arthur’s burden. Arthur gently placed the bundle of fabric on the table and stood back, a proud smile on his face.
“Doesn’t look like much, does it?” Merlin rubbed absently at his stomach with a tilted head as he tried to see what Arthur meant by ‘finished’.
“It will when it’s sewn.” Arthur glared over at Merlin.
“Really? That’s going to magically turn from a pile of mismatched fabric and… I don’t even know what that is… into a dress?” Merlin gestured derisively at said ‘dress’.
Arthur folded his arms and put a little more heat behind his glare. “Yes, Merlin. That is going to be a dress. Your dress.”
Merlin’s shoulders dropped and he looked resignedly over at his master. “I think I hate you.”
Merlin’s obvious discomfort with Arthur’s brilliant plan brightened the prince’s mood. “I believe you’ve stated that, quite emphatically. Nonetheless, you’re still wearing it.” Arthur’s smile widened at Merlin’s groan.
“Why can’t you get one of your knights to wear this? I’m sure they’d be happy to assist you with this ‘brilliant’ plan of yours,” Merlin asked hopefully.
“And I’ve told you, none of them would be able to pass as a girl. They’d all look like a man wearing a dress. You’re the only one… small enough to get away with it.” Arthur quickly hid his smirk behind a serious expression.
Merlin wasn’t fooled. “Something tells me ‘small’ isn’t the word you’re looking for.”
Arthur struggled to maintain a serious expression. “Well, you have to admit it. You are a bit… dainty.”
Merlin’s mouth gaped in an ‘o’ of outrage as he glared at Arthur, who promptly burst into laughter. “I am not bloody dainty,” Merlin huffed. “At least I’m not the one who needs to parade around in a ridiculous amount of clothing in pretty colours.” Merlin stalked over to the table and started cleaning up the unused bits.
“Oh come on, Merlin. I know you’re manly… ish.” Arthur ducked the bob of lace tossed at his head. “You throw like a girl, though.”
Merlin switched tactics to ignoring the extremely annoying and prattish prince who continued to giggle behind him, which Merlin considered to be very girlish. He swept the snips of material and loose threads into a basket with his arm and stomped over to pick up the lace bob that unfortunately missed smiting the still-snickering brat. Then this plan would never have to happen and Merlin wouldn’t have to humiliate himself by wearing a dress. Not that he’d call the mangled heap of cloth a dress. He hoped Arthur nicked a vein while sewing and bled to death all over his ‘pretty dress’. That’d teach him. Sewing wasn’t a very manly hobby, if you asked him. Merlin suddenly imagined borrowing some of Morgana’s cosmetics and sneaking into Arthur’s chamber while he slept and painting his face garishly. He stifled a snort at that and went back to tidying. Arthur glanced over at him suspiciously. Merlin ignored him and picked up the last of the extras. “I’ll leave you to your sewing then, sire.” Merlin grinned as he left Arthur’s chambers.
Arthur frowned at his suddenly cheerful servant as he left and suppressed a desire to shudder. It was ridiculous to be afraid of the scrawny idiot, but sometimes there was a mischievous gleam in Merlin’s eye that worried him. Arthur shook off his imagined dread and turned to his masterpiece. Merlin was obviously blind as well as mentally afflicted if he couldn’t see how wonderful this dress would be when he’d finished with it.
Arthur had picked up sewing in his early teens when he’d been out on extended hunting trips with his father and Morgana. He’d torn his breeches and had made the mistake of dropping them in Morgana’s lap and telling her to ‘do what girls do’ and sew them for him. Taking his bow and going off into the forest to catch some small game for their dinner, he’d come back with two pheasants and a hare only to discover that Morgana had cut out the stitching of every garment he wasn’t wearing. After Uther had stopped laughing, which Arthur thought took far too long considering the seriousness of the situation, he’d meted out his ‘punishment’. Morgana and Arthur were to stay at camp the next day and miss out on the hunt. Morgana, for her part, was to teach Arthur to sew by mending his ripped breeches. Arthur, for his, was to learn to sew and mend his own garments, minus the breeches Morgana was mending. When Uther had come back to camp late that afternoon and seen Arthur sitting miserably in possibly the worst stitched pair of breeches and tunic, he’d burst out laughing again. Arthur was forced to wear his horribly assembled outfit back to Camelot, his cheeks burning the entire way. As soon as he was in his chambers, he’d ripped off the offending clothes and stood naked and humiliated, glaring at the discarded pile. It was at that moment that Arthur first showed the tenacity that he exudes along with his confidence. He refused to be beaten by something a girl could easily do. Wrapping himself in a robe, he had called for a servant to bring him a sewing kit. For two weeks, Arthur stayed in his chambers, stitching and unstitching the tunic and breeches. At the end of it, he could barely tell the difference between his stitching and that of any of his other clothing. Proudly, he’d put the outfit back on and had gone to dinner in it. Uther had raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Morgana had smirked, but nodded in acknowledgement.
Arthur grinned at the memory. He may have learned the hard way, but he’d bloody well learned. He was doing this himself to avoid Morgana somehow finding out. He knew she’d pester him to be involved; possibly as the bait, and that just wasn’t going to happen. Putting Merlin in peril was already grating at Arthur’s brain. If Arthur thought he could have feasibly passed as female, he would have been the bait himself, but as he’d stated to Merlin; he would just look like a man in a dress, albeit a very pretty man in a dress. Threading a needle, he set about creating his ‘masterpiece’, his mind already trying to figure out how best to hide Merlin’s face and where one could possibly purchase a wig in Camelot. Arthur had serious doubts there was a wig made in all of Albion that would be able to hide Merlin’s ears. They’d have to make do with what was available.
~
“Get that stuff away from me!” Merlin blocked Arthur’s arm with his own as he hastily backed away.
Arthur proceeded to corner Merlin beside his wardrobe. “If you don’t stop flailing, I’m going to dump most of this on you.”
“It smells like a dung heap!” Merlin cringed, trying to edge himself behind the wardrobe.
“It does not! I paid good money for this.” Arthur frowned, bringing the bottle to his nose and giving it a small sniff. It was rather pungent, but the merchant he’d purchased it from assured him that after a small amount of time, the harshness wore off and it smelled like a field of flowers. Arthur had never smelled a field quite like this, but since he didn’t run around randomly sniffing meadows, he’d taken the merchant at his word. The horrified and disgusted look on Merlin’s face told him he may have been cheated. “It’s supposed to smell like wildflowers.”
Merlin snorted. “Sure, a whole field of wild manure flowers.”
Arthur’s frown deepened as he took in his manservant, who had managed to utilize his scrawniness and was now mostly crammed between the large wardrobe and the wall. “I hope you get stuck.”
“You’d get me out. Who else would you get to humiliate if I waste away to nothing back here?”
Arthur’s frown lifted as he put the stopper back in the bottle and placed it on a table. “To say that you would waste away implies that you have anything to waste, Merlin.” He walked over to stand with arms crossed as he studied Merlin, who had almost managed to come out the other side. “You’re unbelievable. You do know that, right?”
Merlin wriggled out from the other side of the wardrobe, catching his foot and tripping to land by Arthur’s foot with an ‘oomph’. “I believe it’s been made clear to me before, sire.” Merlin grinned cheekily up at Arthur, who fought the urge to answer with his own grin. “I’ll borrow some of Morgana’s… if I even need it at all.”
“I’m trying to avoid her finding out what we’re doing, Merlin. She’s wound up about this enough. If she knew what we had planned, she’d lead the bloody charge out in nothing but her knickers.” Arthur cringed at the thought. Morgana was a lovely woman, but over the last couple years his interest had gone from admiring her as a female to feeling as though she was part of his family. And this wasn’t Northumbria. You don’t do those sorts of things to your family members in Camelot. He had it on good authority that the current King and Queen of Northumbria were first cousins. It explained, in Arthur’s mind, why most of the Northumbrian nobility looked as though they were related to a horse. Or possibly a Wilderen.
“She’s just worried about Gwen.” Merlin’s grin dimmed. Thankfully, nothing had happened to Guinevere. Yet. But with some unknown entity wandering the streets of the lower town of Camelot during the dark hours and stealing its women, there was always a possibility that Guinevere could be next. Morgana had taken to requesting her maid to stay at the castle under the guise of needing someone to ease her nightmares. No one was fooled by the thinly veiled excuse, but no one was willing to contest it and deal with Morgana’s wrath.
“As am I. Which is why this plan needs to work. Seven girls have been abducted within a fortnight. Every second night, one goes missing. There’ve been whispers that it’s foreign slavers. Tonight’s the second night, Merlin. Whatever or whoever they are, this is going to end.” Arthur’s face was lined with resolve. Resolve to not let down his people, his kingdom. True, it wasn’t his yet, but Arthur considered that a triviality. You don’t start to care about your people when a crown is placed on your head. His responsibility wasn’t a convenience, and he refused to treat it as such. He heaved a sigh and glanced over at Merlin, who had pulled himself to his feet and was picking cobwebs out of his hair. “Seems you’ve been remiss in your cleaning duties, eh Merlin?”
Merlin blinked at Arthur. “Who cleans behind wardrobes? No one goes back there.”
Arthur smirked. “Mostly no one. Only scrawny, disobedient manservants.”
“I’m not scrawny,” Merlin huffed. “I’m just… lean.”
Arthur covered his mouth and muffled ‘dainty’ with a cough. From the heated glare being directed at him, he didn’t think he’d done a very good job of camouflaging it. “There are a few hours before dark. Go grab some dinner for us both while I put the finishing touches on your dress. We’ll get you outfitted after.” Merlin stalked off, muttering something about prats and princes with overly large heads as he went to do as he was ordered. Arthur unrolled the dress he’d been working on, a flutter of pride in his chest. It was one thing to stitch things together that had already been stitched. It was a completely different thing to make something from nothing. He doubted he’d win any prizes for fashion, but it would serve its purpose. Its purpose being disguising his gangly manservant as a gangly female. Shaking it out, he settled on the corner of his bed and set about finishing what needed to be finished so that it would be ready for Merlin to go out and be bait tonight. Another flutter went through Arthur’s chest, completely separate from the emotion of pride. Arthur refused to name it as fear.
~
“Don’t laugh.”
Arthur rolled his eyes at the figure hidden behind the changing screen. “Oh come on, Merlin. As previously stated, it’s my brilliant idea. You can’t look that ridiculo-…” Arthur’s words trailed off as Merlin emerged from behind the screen, face and eyes lowered and a blush blazing across his cheeks and up to his ears. Which, Arthur was right, were not hidden by the wig, although with the surplus of hair, they looked less enlarged and more... elfin. They’d gone with a dark one, similar to the colour of Merlin’s own hair in case there were any escaping wisps. It was long and soft and curled into soft rings at the ends. The sheer amount of it brought out the milky paleness of Merlin’s skin, making his eyes seem like they held different depths of blue, making them more noticeable than they normally were - when Merlin finally raised them to gauge Arthur’s reaction. The dress helped, being a medley of dark and light blues, to bring out small spots of a light blue Arthur hadn’t noticed in Merlin’s eyes before. The fabric was light, but plentiful; the bodice hugging curves Arthur hadn’t noticed either. The sleeves were long and belled, trailing against Merlin’s fingers, adding to their delicate appearance. The skirt was panelled, the lighter blue layered over the darker and adding length to Merlin’s already tall frame. The waist was cinched by the bodice, letting the skirt ripple outward as he moved. When he stopped, it settled softly against his legs. Merlin had obviously been worrying his lips, since they were both rosy and plump looking. Arthur’s tongue flicked out to wet his own as he struggled for something to say. Anything. “You’re actually quite pretty.” Arthur groaned internally, since that was the wrong anything to say. “For a boy dressed up like a girl.” There, that was better.
Merlin smirked, making his lips look entirely too enticing. “And the dress is actually quite nice,” he paused as he ran slender fingers down the material, “for having been made by you. I expected more glitter and stones. Maybe some feathers.”
Arthur twitched his lips and gave Merlin a wicked grin. “It’s not too late to add a few things.”
Merlin paled, eyes widening as he held out both hands. “No, no. It’s good. Very pretty. Just the way it is, sire.”
“You’re supposed to be passing as a townswoman. When have you seen any of them wearing anything with gemstones and feathers? Although, if it was winter, I might have added some fur trim…” Arthur mused, ignoring Merlin’s indignant snort. Arthur smiled and lifted his hand to twirl his finger around. Merlin stared at him in confusion. “Turn around, Merlin. I want to see what it’s like all the way around.”
Merlin did some eye-rolling of his own as he moved in a slow circle for Arthur to see the full effect. Arthur refused to acknowledge that in a dress, Merlin had a rather nice looking arse. He blamed it on the material and his amazing sewing abilities. He also refused to admit that Merlin made a rather pretty girl. It was, of course, due to him being a ridiculous parody of a male, or so Arthur told himself. He was most certainly not noticing how Merlin seemed more graceful when his limbs were hidden by material that brought out his definitely-not-lovely eyes. “Satisfied?”
Arthur nodded, then went over to the chair and grabbed the cloak Merlin was to use while wandering the lower streets. “Here you are, Marie.” He was amused by how differently Merlin’s glare looked when surrounded by long hair. It seemed both less and more, if that made any sense. They’d decided that Merlin needed a female’s name; in case anyone in town conversed with him or if Arthur or one of the knights had to interact with him while they were incognito. Arthur and a small contingent of his knights would be dressed as labourers, rough clothes and cloaks hiding their light armour and weaponry. They’d be trailing Merlin as he wandered the streets, trying to draw the attention of whoever had been nabbing the females.
Merlin snatched the cloak and swung it about to settle over his shoulders. “Have I mentioned how much I hate you?”
“I believe that’s come up before, yes. Now stop frowning, Marie. You’ll get wrinkles.” Arthur laughed as he ducked the blow aimed at him and grabbed his own cloak. Walking over to his chamber door, he opened it and swept a low bow, “After you, milady.”
Two spots of colour burned on Merlin’s face as he stomped over to the open door. “I don’t know how and I don’t know when, but I will get you back for this… sire.” Merlin glared down his nose at a still laughing Arthur before storming out of the room and down the hall. Arthur thought Merlin might have been taking lessons from Morgana on dramatic exits.
~
They managed to leave the castle and make their way to town without being noticed by anyone, Arthur meeting up with his knights at a predefined location. Merlin split off from the group and started wandering through the town by himself, stopping at certain shops to look over trinkets he thought girls would probably look over. As the sun began to set, the merchants and citizens that frightened easily were already packing up and heading home to bar themselves in. The veteran merchants brazenly kept their shops and stalls open after night fell in open defiance of the fear lacing the town. Arthur and his knights spread out over the streets on either side of Merlin, conversing with the more brave residents who were adamantly trying not to let fear alter their routines. Arthur noticed the only women that braved the streets were well into their prime, not concerned in the slightest that they’d be of any interest to any slavers or creatures. Merlin ducked into and out of some of the more respectable taverns, keeping sure to avoid the less reputable areas of Camelot. Considering how strictly Arthur enforced the guards and patrolling of Camelot, it was hard pressed to be the mire of scum and poverty that most large cities boasted. They passed the next few hours in this way, Merlin stopping at a tavern and talking with the townspeople while Arthur and his knights kept an eye out for anything suspicious. A few times, Arthur or one of his knights had had to come to ‘Marie’s’ aid when one of the townsfolk would insist a little too hard on escorting ‘her’ home. For her safety, of course. Usually while he was gripping Merlin’s waist a little too hard or too low for the actual meaning to be lost. At which point a member of Arthur’s group would come strolling along and rescue ‘Marie’, thanking the man for attempting to aid his ‘sister’, but that they could take it from there. Merlin shuddered at the look of undisguised lust in the faces of some of his would-be rescuers and thanked every deity that existed that he’d been born a man. He wondered what the look on their faces would be if they found out they’d been hitting on the prince’s manservant. He snorted, drawing a look from Sir Leon, who had just finished sending another ‘good Samaritan’ on his way.
“You know, Marie, this would be a lot easier if you weren’t enticing so much ‘assistance’.” Leon grinned.
Merlin sniffed, glowering over at him. “I’m not enticing anyone. I’m just talking. I’m of the sound belief that the men of Camelot are all perverted letches who need a lesson in manners.”
This earned him a laugh from the usually stoic Sir Leon. “I don’t think you’re giving yourself enough credit. You make an absolutely lovely and convincing woman.”
Merlin frowned and turned away from Leon. “I’m not dainty.”
“I never said you were.” Leon raised an eyebrow.
“You were thinking it.” Folding his arms across his chest, Merlin tossed his head, causing the longer strands of hair to fly over his shoulder in a particularly feminine way. Changing the subject, Merlin looked up at Leon from under long lashes, “Do you think whatever’s taking the women will fall for me as bait?”
Leon blinked at the almost coy look Merlin was giving him, then mentally shook himself as he realised Merlin was just being Merlin. No flirtation intended. “I think you’ve fooled half the town into believing you’re female - and a desirable one at that. I don’t see why you wouldn’t be an adequate target for our foe.”
The smile that lit up Merlin’s face seemed brighter than it did when he wasn’t playing a girl. “Well, as long as some good comes out of this humiliation, I suppose I can live with it.” Merlin sighed overdramatically.
Leon smirked and patted him on the shoulder. “Think of it this way - it’s for the good of Camelot.” Ignoring the indignant snort, Leon made his way back to his seemingly aimless wanderings about town.
~
It was coming up to midnight when it happened. One minute Merlin was walking along a deserted street, grumbling unhappily to himself about pig-headed princes and dresses that didn’t keep one nearly warm enough - the next, he felt himself jerked into the shadows between two shops. A hand was over his mouth to keep any screams from leaving it and Merlin almost gagged at the smell coming from it. The flesh on the fingers was a rancid brown colour, mottled with dark spots and carrying a decaying sweet smell reminiscent of corpses. The fingers seemed cadaverously skeletal, but the fragility of their appearance was belied by the strength with which they held Merlin. Another arm was wrapped tightly around Merlin’s waist, holding him rigidly. Merlin struggled and kicked at the body behind him, but it was like kicking a stone wall and just as effective. He heard a hissing in his ear and felt something cold burrow through the wig to rest on his neck. A second later he realised whatever had hold of him was smelling him. And if the tightening of the body behind him or the almost contended sigh it gave was any indication, it liked what it smelled. For a brief moment, Merlin wished he’d let Arthur douse him with that repulsive perfume. Merlin struggled harder, his yells muffled by the unmoving hand. He knew Arthur and the knights would be coming, since it had probably looked like he’d disappeared into thin air, but since he wasn’t sure what held him, let alone what it wanted, that thought did little to comfort him. Merlin felt himself dragged further into the shadows as one of the knights passed them, obviously searching for Merlin. Something scraped on his neck, dragging painfully before Merlin felt icy trickles of fear down his spine as the realisation that he might not be found in time hit him. Running out of time and ideas, he did what came naturally to him; he used his magic. Fuelled by fear and desperation, it may have come out a bit stronger than he’d intended, but it certainly did the trick. Both he and his captor were suddenly catapulted out of the shadows and into the almost empty street; almost empty but for the seven worried knights and the one irate and frantic prince.
There were exclamations of surprise as the duo landed roughly on the ground, Merlin feeling the crush of whatever held him as it stayed fixed to his back. One of the knights, Sir Gawain, had a torch and from Merlin’s view, which was from the ground and at an angle, it seemed like Gawain was brandishing it at him. “Oi!” Merlin squirmed to try to get away from both the body on top of him and the fiery brand being prodded in his direction. Leon moved close enough to reach down and grab his arm, pulling Merlin away from what had attacked him. The knights had formed a circle around Merlin and their prey, now tightening it as Merlin was removed from harm’s way. Brushing hair out of his face, Merlin peered around Leon’s shoulder, finally getting a look at what had grabbed him. He couldn’t stop the startled gasp that left his mouth. The creature - for he refused to compare it to a person - was standing upright, hunched into the tattered rags that covered it. The mottled, parchment skin Merlin had noted on the hand covering his mouth wasn’t confined to that appendage. Through gaps in the rags and the visible skin on the face and arms, the sickly brown covered it, blotches of rotted mottling speckling it. No hair covered its head, its gauntness displayed in the skeletal features of its face. It hissed at the men encircling it, showing a set of fangs that would make a cobra proud. Spittle flew from its mouth as it continued hissing, using an arm to shield its eyes from the glare of the torch. Eyes that were red and black; red irises with black replacing the whites of a person’s eyes. Arthur had his sword drawn - as did all the knights - and he made a feint for the creature. It lashed out with a lightning fast swipe of its hand, fingers curled and baring wicked claws to match its teeth.
Drawing the circle in closer, the knights held their swords at the ready, waiting for the command from their leader. They didn’t have to wait long. Each knight plunged their sword into the tattered creature before them. Each knight let out a sound of surprise as they had to pull hastily back to avoid skewering one another. The creature had dissipated, reforming out of the circle; and close to Merlin. Its eyes fastened on Merlin, who was back-peddling away without noticing - until he hit the wall of the shop behind him. The knights moved into a half circle, the shop and Merlin keeping them from completing their circle. “Merlin,” Arthur called softly, “don’t make any sudden movements.”
Merlin turned wide-eyes to Arthur. “Wasn’t on my list of things-to-do, sire.” Keeping his back against the wall, Merlin bent down slowly, locking his eyes on the creature in front of him.
“What are you doing, you idiot! I said don’t move!” Arthur hissed, causing the creature to turn to him and answer with a hiss of its own.
Merlin stretched his fingers out until they caught the wood of the still-burning torch that Sir Gawain had dropped when he’d pulled his sword. Inching it over, he finally pulled it close enough to grasp, feeling slightly better with the torch than without it. “No, sire, you said ‘no sudden movements’. That was anything but sudden.” Merlin braced his back on the stone and used it to lever himself up again. Standing there, armed only with a measly stick that was on fire, Merlin felt slightly better about his situation.
The creature flicked its eyes between Merlin’s face and the fire in his hand. Merlin suddenly clued in to the fact that while it may scoff swords and be all but unaffected by them, it seemed to have an issue with fire. Merlin waved it tentatively in its direction, satisfied when it cringed back. “What is it?” Gawain asked.
“I don’t have the slightest. But the odds of there being two things nabbing the women lead me to believe this is our culprit. I say we kill it.” Arthur twirled his sword, placing himself at a better angle for a heart-blow.
“Your swords don’t seem to have that much of an effect... sire.” Merlin kept waving the torch between himself and the creature, which still seemed intent on Merlin and only Merlin.
“You have a suggestion, Marie?” Arthur asked sweetly, grinning at the scowl that crawled on Merlin’s face as most of the knight’s snorted in amusement.
“As a matter of fact, sire, I do.” And with that, he tossed the flaming torch at the creature.
It held out one frail-looking arm to ward off the blow, but that only deflected it down to its tattered robes; which promptly burst into flame. The creature gave off a shriek of pain and rage, arms flailing madly as it tried to put out the fire. Merlin used its distraction to sidle along the wall and back over to the knights, noticing the relief on Arthur’s face as he was no longer cut off from him and his men. Another horrible screeching wail came from the creature’s mouth before it moved faster than thought - there one moment, then fleeing through the streets the next. The speed it travelled at was impossible to match, causing Arthur and the knights to discontinue their chase a mere two streets into it. They caught brief flickers of it exiting the town and entering the forest, its screams echoing through the empty streets of the sleeping town. Sword still out, Arthur turned and strode back to Merlin. He eyed up his servant for a moment before asking what had been on his mind since he’d seen Merlin falling out of the shadows with that thing clinging to his back like an overgrown leech. “Are you alright?”
Merlin blinked, taking a moment to mentally assess himself. He’d probably have bruises on his stomach from being clung to so tightly while they fell, but otherwise he felt fine. He started to nod when Arthur reached out a hand and brought it to Merlin’s neck. Merlin felt Arthur’s fingers graze over his neck, which seemed sensitised for some reason - a brief brush of fingers shouldn’t feel like that. He noticed the concern on Arthur’s face as he looked at his fingers. Pulling them away, he turned his wrist to show them to Merlin. That’s when Merlin noticed the blood staining them. Frowning in confusion, he lifted his own hand to touch wounds that caused him no pain. Staring at the blood dripping from his fingers blankly, he finally raised his eyes to Arthur’s. “Oh...” Merlin said softly before promptly passing out.
~
Arthur paced mentally, since he couldn’t afford to physically show his concern over a mere servant. Even if that servant had somehow managed to become his friend and confidant. He was perched on a rickety stool in the corner of Gaius’s workshop, hovering without actually hovering. Arthur had experienced a harder, sharper flutter of fear when Merlin had collapsed. His knights had quickly gathered him up and they’d made for the castle at a good speed. Gaius was asleep - as anyone should be in the middle of the night - but had quickly come alert at the sight of Merlin’s unconscious form. He’d made the knights who weren’t carrying him drag his bed into the centre of the room so he could examine Merlin properly. He blinked in surprised confusion as he took in the fact that Merlin appeared to be wearing a dress, complete with a long wig. Raising an eyebrow at Arthur, he knelt beside the bed. Running his hands swiftly over the unconscious boy, he ascertained there were no broken bones or internal injuries. Seeing the blood peeking through strands of the wig, Gaius shifted it aside to seek the source. “What happened?”
“We were trying to put an end to the abductions. We’d decided on using Merlin as bait to draw the culprit out. It worked. Only, the thing wasn’t human. I think... I think it bit him.” Arthur frowned as he gazed down at Merlin, watching Gaius probe the angry looking punctures. Needing something to distract himself, he turned to his still-waiting and concerned looking knights. “Leon, inform the night-watch about this... creature. I want patrols in Camelot doubled. Each pair is to have a torch with them at all times while on duty. Kay, take Gawain and Tristan and make the castle rounds to ensure all the current watch know of the new orders. Gavin, Hector and Broderick, you’ve done well. You’re dismissed for the night. I’ll expect all of you to be at the Great Hall to debrief with my father first thing in the morning.” Finishing his orders, he turned his attention back to Gaius, who was dabbing lightly at the wounds.
“When you say that you don’t think it was human, sire, what do you mean exactly?”
“Just that, Gaius. It was definitely not human. It was like a flesh-covered skeleton with black and red eyes and fangs. Humans do not have fangs like a snake. It moved faster than we could see. One moment, Merlin was walking in our sights, the next he was just gone.” Arthur’s eyes refused to move from the form of his friend. A small smile flitted on his face, “It didn’t seem all that happy when Merlin threw a torch at it. It has some aversion to fire.”
Gaius’s eyebrows did an intricate dance of sorts as he took this all in. “And the reason Merlin’s wearing a dress?”
Arthur blushed. “It was taking girls. We needed a ‘girl’ as bait. I certainly wasn’t going to ask any of the serving maids to volunteer. Besides, it worked.” Arthur hated feeling like he had to justify his actions, especially to the elderly physician. He realised that Gaius’s concern for Merlin came from a place of love, therefore he felt obligated to explain. “He’ll be alright... won’t he?”
Gaius used the frame of the bed to help lever himself up. “I don’t know, sire. The wounds don’t look grievous, but he seems paler; indicating blood loss. I’m reminded of something...” Gaius trailed off as he went over to his books, finger skipping over several titles before an exclamation signified he’d found what he was looking for. Pulling the book out, he went over to the table and opened it. He put his glasses on, sliding them up so they settled comfortably before he began to flip through the brittle pages. The flipping stopped and he began to skim with his finger again, frowning as he read further. “Was this it, sire?” Turning the book so that Arthur could see, he pointed at the picture which depicted a duplicate of what Arthur had seen earlier.
“Yes,” Arthur said excitedly. “What is it?”
The heavy sigh that followed his affirmation let him know he wouldn’t like what was coming. “It’s a vampyre, sire. An undead creature of the darkest arts. They are the end result of necromancers, sorcerers that work with death magic. Over the years of working with such dark and tainted magic, it seeps into the flesh and soul of the person wielding it. When one dies, they rise from their graves as a vampyre. The more powerful the necromancer, the more powerful the vampyre. They are predators, feasting on the blood of the living. The sun is deadly to them, making them nocturnal hunters. Being creatures of dark arts, they cannot be in the presence of religious artefacts. Holy water will wound them. They also cannot bear the touch of pure silver. It says here that a vampyre will make a nest, somewhere enclosed from the light of day. They hunt after dark, abducting and feasting on humans. If their victim dies from the infection a vampyre injects with its bite, they will then rise from the graves themselves as thralls; minions of the vampyre that made them. Thralls also need to feed on the blood of the living.” Gaius lifted his eyes to Arthur’s. “If there is a vampyre close to Camelot, it will need to be destroyed before the entire town falls prey to it and the children it creates.”
Arthur turned to look at Merlin. “It bit him. What does that mean for him?”
Gaius skimmed the next page, brows lifting as he found what he sought. “Since Merlin was not the victim of a true feeding - more of a sampling, the infection has not been properly injected into him. We have time to cleanse the wound.”
“What do you need?” Arthur had to do something, anything to keep him busy. To make him feel like he was doing something to help.
“A silver cross from the chapel, as well as a large dose of holy water, sire. I will need to wash the wound with holy water. The wound’s reaction to the silver will tell when the infection has been removed successfully.” Gaius went back over to the bed, reaching down to tug off the wig that had somehow miraculously stayed put. Giving the wig his best admonishment-by-eyebrow, Gaius set about removing Merlin from the rest of his disguise. Arthur turned to leave, feeling another flutter in his stomach as Gaius started peeling the dress from Merlin.
~
“Hold him down, sire!” Gaius kept a steady stream of holy water flowing over the bubbling wound.
Arthur was using his whole body to hold down Merlin; who still managed to half-lift Arthur off him as he screamed and struggled in an attempt to get away from the pain the holy water was causing him. Tears fell down Merlin’s face to mix with the sweat and water that soaked the pillow and bedding. “The scrawny twit is stronger than he looks,” Arthur panted out as he grabbed one of Merlin’s flailing hands and pinned it beneath him. They had been at this for a good hour, alternating between dousing the wounds with holy water and testing with the cross. The taint of the vampyre had the cross making a sick sizzle when it came into contact with Merlin’s torn skin. Merlin had regained consciousness when the first drop of water had hit him. He had screamed himself hoarse after the first fifteen minutes. Arthur thought the pain-filled whimpers and childish begging were almost worse than the screaming. “How much longer, Gaius?” Arthur’s stomach was a knot of nausea and guilt at what Merlin was going through. At what Arthur’s plan had resulted in. Regardless of the fact that they now knew what they were dealing with, Arthur didn’t like the price paid. Not when it was in someone else’s pain and suffering. Not when he cared about the person that suffered. Arthur quickly stuffed that thought into the back of his mind.
Gaius’s face was a tortured mask at what he was being made to do to Merlin. Even though it was for his own good and would save him from a worse fate, that didn’t make listening to the desperate pleadings and pained cries any easier. Brushing away the hair that stuck to Merlin’s sweaty brow in a gentle gesture, Gaius held the cross in his other hand. Looking down at Merlin’s fear-filled eyes, he whispered, “Almost done, my boy. It’s almost over,” before pressing the silver into Merlin’s reddened and blistered flesh. Merlin had squeezed his eyes in preparation for the pain, but his shocked look was mirrored by Gaius and Arthur when the cross sat silently and painlessly against Merlin’s neck. Crying in relief, Merlin tugged on his arm that was still pinned by Arthur. When it was hastily released, he brought it up to cover his eyes as he wept in gratitude that it was over. Arthur pretended not to notice when Gaius swiped a tear away from his own face.
“Is that it? Is it done?” Arthur wanted desperately to be anywhere but here, listening to Merlin’s soft sobs. The fluttering in his chest had moved down to settle into the knot in his stomach that twitched and writhed like a living thing with each pained sound that had left Merlin’s lips. Merlin had curled up on his side and his thin shoulders shook with the silent cries wracking him. Arthur could hear the stuttered breaths; each one twisting the roiling knot in his stomach.
Gaius knelt by the bed, stroking Merlin’s hair. “I believe so, sire. Merlin’s been cleansed of the infection and will be fine, if given time to recover.” Arthur didn’t imagine the censure in the tone. “For now, the boy needs rest.”
Arthur heaved an internal sigh of relief as he was given an excuse to leave. “Of course. I’ll come by to see how he’s doing tomorrow, but he’s dismissed from his duties until you feel he’s recovered.” Arthur turned to go, squashing the desire to do so hastily. Pausing at the door, he looked back at Gaius - who was still kneeling at Merlin’s side, comforting him. “Do you need anything else? Food or... something?”
Gaius looked up from Merlin to shake his head slowly at Arthur. “Not at the moment, sire.”
“There’ll be a guard posted near your room. If you do need anything, you won’t have to go far.” Arthur felt a little more at ease knowing he was doing something for his manservant. Even if it was by proxy of having someone close at hand to keep Gaius from having to stray far from him.
Gaius nodded before going back to soothing the still shaking boy. “Thank you, sire.”
Arthur left, knowing that even though he couldn’t hear them anymore, Merlin’s sobs and soft whimpers would follow him into a tormented sleep.
~
Arthur finally gave up the pretence of sleeping when he heard the morning changing of the guard. Kicking his blanket off, he lay staring blankly up at the bed’s canopy. The few snatches of sleep he’d caught had been filled with nightmares of Merlin’s cries and sobs echoing in the dark as the vampyre managed to escape with him. Arthur searching for him and finding him sitting in a clearing in the forest, covered in dirt and glaring at him with red-on-black eyes. Sitting up, he hung his legs over the side of the bed and scrubbed his face with his hands. This was going to be a long day - starting first with the debriefing of last night’s debacle with his father. Arthur groaned and hung his head. He got up and began to wash and dress himself for the day, noticing as he did so that he’d never realised how quiet it was in the mornings when Merlin wasn’t there to talk his ear off. Arthur decided to check in on Merlin before making his way to the kitchens. Checking with the guard by the physician’s quarters, he was informed that it had been a quiet and uneventful night. He knocked lightly on the door, not wanting to wake Merlin or Gaius if either was sleeping. He heard movement on the other side and was shortly greeted with the sight of a weary-looking Gaius. “Sire.”
“How is he?” Arthur reminded himself that it wouldn’t be very appropriate for him to push Gaius out of the way to allow him to see Merlin for himself.
“He’s still sleeping. His colour’s coming back and I managed to get some broth in him last night. It seems there won’t be any lasting damage from his ordeal.” Gaius said in a low voice. “Have you given your father your report, sire?”
Arthur told himself he was not adjusting his position to try to sneak a peek inside the room, his back was just sore from a night of tossing and turning. “I thought it best to check on Merlin first. I want to be able to apprise my father of the entire situation.”
Gaius smiled. “Of course, sire. I’m sure he’ll be up in a few hours, if you’d like to check his condition yourself.”
Arthur cleared his throat and twisted his ring on his finger. “Right. I’ll come by just before midday. As lazy as he is, he couldn’t possibly sleep that long.” Turning on his heel, he made his way down the hall, ignoring the chuckle he heard before the door closed. Arthur made his way quickly down to the kitchens, grabbing a hasty breakfast to eat as he prepared to meet with his father and his knights. Cramming the last of the cheese in his mouth, he rounded the corner to the throne room and saw all seven of the knights he’d taken last night waiting silently.
They all looked over at him as he strode up, a question on each of their faces. Leon was the one to voice it. “How is Merlin, sire?”
“Sleeping. Gaius says he’ll recover fully.” Arthur heard the collective sigh of relief at the good news.
“What was that thing, sire?” Gawain ran a hand through his short, reddish-blond hair. “I’ve never heard of or seen anything like that before.”
As Arthur opened his mouth to answer, the doors to the throne room were opened and they were ushered in to stand before the King. The knights stood in a solid line against Arthur’s back as he gave his report to Uther. When he got to Gaius’s discovery of what the creature was, he saw the disgust curl his father’s lips into a sneer. “The worst creature of all - a sorcerer who refuses to die. You will find a way to kill this thing and whatever others it may have spawned. I will not have a magical creature wandering freely through my kingdom.” Uther speared Arthur with a look that brooked no argument.
Arthur gave a sharp nod, noticing how Uther had failed to mention that he wouldn’t have a magical creature harming his people. “Of course, father. I’ll take a larger contingent of men into the woods to look for its nest. We will need to borrow some items from the chapel, with your permission.”
Uther gave a perfunctory nod which Arthur took as permission and a dismissal. Leaving, he tipped his head at his knights to follow after him. He addressed Leon as they made their way through the castle to the barracks. “I want you to send three men to the chapel - we need all crosses and icons that are able to be easily carried. Tell them to also fill as many flasks as they can carry with water. Get the priest to bless each flask. I also want any silver daggers brought to the barracks. Ornamental or not, they’ll do more good than our swords did. We may have had ineffective weapons last night, but I can promise you that we’ll show no quarter during our next confrontation.”
Leon nodded before dropping back to confer with Gawain, Broderick and Hector. Hector split off to go and grab the men to raid the chapel, Gawain to procure the water flasks to bring to the priest for blessing. Broderick left to see about gathering up a silver arsenal. Leon lengthened his stride to catch back up to Arthur. “Anything else, sire?”
Arthur looked over at Leon. “Go to Gaius’s and ask him if there’s anything else about this vampyre we need to know. Anything that will give us an advantage.”
Leon nodded, falling back to take the corridor to the physician’s quarters. Arthur arrived at the barracks with Gavin, Tristan and Kay and set the three knights to the task of selecting the guards to accompany them that afternoon. Arthur gave the Captain the information he needed to pass on to the rest of the guards and knights. They were going to be prepared for the vampyre. Notices were made and posted in the town commons to inform the residents of what exactly was plaguing them and the precautions they could take to avoid being attacked themselves. The morning passed in a flurry for Arthur as he and the knights equipped and readied themselves for the hunt. Because that’s what it was; a heavily armed hunting party going out to put down a rabid beast that was terrorising the kingdom. Arthur turned at the tap on his shoulder as he was stuffing provisions into his saddlebag. “Gaius would like to talk to you, sire. I think he needs some help convincing Merlin to stay in bed instead of trying to come down and saddle his own horse to come with us.” Leon rolled his eyes.
Arthur felt the coiled tension in his shoulders lessen; a tension he hadn’t even realised was there. If Leon was able to poke fun at Merlin, he must be better than he had been when Arthur had left last night. He shook his head to stop the memory of Merlin crying from surfacing. Grumbling to himself about idiot manservants that didn’t know their head from their arses, he took off for Gaius’s quarters with Leon chuckling behind him. Arriving at Gaius’s door, he opened it without knocking and strode in, eyes focusing on Merlin - who was sitting at the table spooning stew into his mouth. “Merlin, what is this ridiculous nonsense I’m hearing about you trying to come with us? Your obvious mental affliction must have worsened during the night if you somehow think you’d be any use to me during a hunt.”
Merlin spluttered indignantly through a mouthful and tried to hastily swallow to answer. “I could so be useful!”
“As what? Some huddled lump on the ground for me to trip over?” Arthur stood with his hands folded across his arms, a prattish expression on his face. Leon stood behind Arthur and to the side, doing his best to look like he wasn’t listening.
“I did fine last night with the torch.” Merlin glared at Arthur, also folding his arms as he retorted petulantly.
“Right. Fine, hmm? Certainly. You did a brilliant job of shoving your neck in its mouth. I especially liked the part where you fainted... like a girl.” Arthur noticed that yes, Merlin’s colour had come back. That was evident by the two circles of red staining his cheeks as Merlin was building up a fine temper. Arthur decided to ignore the blatant disrespect being shown a member of royalty in deference to being satisfied that Merlin was capable of such an act. It showed he really was back to normal. Well, as normal as Merlin could be.
“I’m not the one who had the wonderfully brilliant idea of dressing me up like a girl in the first place, you bloody prat.”
“When are you going to get it through that thick head of yours that you cannot talk to me like that, you bumbling moron.”
“Can and did...sire.” Merlin dragged out the ‘sire’ so that somehow he managed to make it sound like ‘pig-brained sodding arse’. Arthur quirked a brow.
“Merlin!” Gaius admonished from across the table. “Ill or not, that is no way to talk to anyone, let alone Prince Arthur.” Gaius lowered his chin, peering at Merlin from above the rim of his spectacles.
The two spots of colour spread as Merlin blushed in embarrassment, ducking his head. “I apologise, sire.” Ah, he’d only managed to make that sound like ‘pretentious git’. An improvement.
Arthur chose to ignore the implied insult. “Obviously you’re still not quite well, which is further proof that you’re in no condition to assist me in any way, shape or form.” Arthur kept the grin to himself as he noticed Merlin choke back another barrage. “Of course, if you’re mending so quickly, I will expect you to be back at your duties tomorrow.” Smiling smugly at Merlin, who was biting his lip to stay quiet, he turned his attention to Gaius. “I take it you’ve briefed Leon accordingly?”
Leon moved up to Arthur’s side, glad of the subject change. “I believe so, sire. We haven’t managed to go through all of the lore on the creatures, but we have discovered the ways to kill it. Silver will harm and incapacitate it. Holy water will burn it. Sunlight will kill it, so if we can find the lair during the day, all we need to do is drag it into a patch of sun. Decapitation will work as well. And no matter the way it dies, it’s best to burn the bodies completely, since it does indeed have a weakness against fire. This also applies to any thralls found; though they won’t be as strong or fast as the vampyre.”
Gaius motioned a hand to the three tomes he had splayed in front of him on his worktable. “The legends and stories surrounding these creatures are wide-spread and plentiful. There are numerous encounters and triumphs over them, as well as notations of entire villages and kingdoms wiped out by a single vampyre and its nest of thralls. Do not let your guard down around it or its children, sire. It is extremely dangerous. Some tales have told of the vampyres being able to use its gaze to enchant a victim into letting it feed from them.” Gaius lifted his spectacles off to rub at tired eyes. “I’ll continue to research what I can of it, though hopefully today will be fruitful and it won’t be necessary.”
“We’ve armed ourselves with what we can. When we come across it - and we will - there will be quite a different outcome from last night.” Arthur’s eyes strayed to the bandages around Merlin’s neck. Oh yes, he was prepared to meet the creature again, equipped with better knowledge of how to kill it. Arthur left with Leon behind him, both men’s faces set in grim lines of determination as they prepared to go forth and end the life of a monster.
~
Part 2