Illusion to Reality
A Merlin One-Shot by ChronicLegCramp-Since'99
Pairing: Implied One-sided Merdred
*Disclaimer: Merlin and all its characters do not belong to me*
The druid with the velvety, brown locks and wide, crystal blue eyes stood in a vast lush field. At least he thought it was lush- it was hard to see through the mass of mist surrounding him. He was in his knights attire, complete with chainmail and his sword, which he gripped in his gloved, right hand. Somewhere in the corner of his mind, Mordred knew he was dreaming- from the weight of the air and the fact that all his senses seemed to have been switched off, only leaving him his sight. But he tensed either way, as if expecting an ambush any second. He began moving slowly forward, flicking his eyes left and right and raising his sword ever so slightly. There was sound now; the grass crunching under his boots, amplified by his disorientation and the silence threatening to drown him.
'Mordred,' it was a whisper passing through his left ear, startling him so that he froze and closed his eyes, trying to become invisible. A couple of shallow breaths later, recognition sparked in his head and he audibly relaxed.
'Emrys.' He didn't bother speaking aloud, as he thrust his sword tip-down into the moist grass and glanced about himself. 'Where are you?' of course the Emrys who graced his dreams each night, was nothing more than a figment of his imagination, but more often than not, he found himself preferring this illusion to the real man.
'Mordred…' this time it was more a murmur than a whisper. 'Close your eyes,' the druid did as was asked eagerly, ignoring the way his heartbeat had quickened.
'Emrys?'
'Open them,' Emrys commanded, voice close enough to touch. And sure enough, when Mordred looked up, his gaze was met with a steady one of a darker shade. Without a moment's hesitation, the druid threw his arms around the older man, burying his face in the warlock's neck. The pulse he found there was soothing and Mordred felt his entire body sigh in relief. The Emrys of his dreams released a carefree laugh, as his arms wrapped protectively around the younger man.
"Bad day?" the warlock said in a light tone, but there was worry underlying it. The druid groaned, pulling back a fraction to look up at Emrys.
"Well, the King and his Knights were as friendly as usual," Mordred began, nuzzling the warlock's neckerchief and breathing in deeply, comforted by the familiar scent of his peoples supposed saviour.
"Are you not one of the Knights you speak of?" Emrys smiled, raising his eyebrows and tucking the druid's hair behind his ears.
"Yes, of course," the druid agreed, returning the smile belatedly, still getting used to being looked at in such a way- even if it was all in his head. He wouldn't be surprised if he lost his mind; it was soul-wearing, constantly pretending to be someone else, hiding your true self just to be allowed to live.
"But…?" the warlock prompted gently.
"You." Mordred poked his chest half-heartedly, avoiding eye-contact. "I don't know why I let it get to me so much. It's hardly surprising. You did try to take my life once after all…I wonder why that was…"
"You're the bane of my existence," Emrys replied patiently, pressing his lips to the druid's forehead. "You do know that…?"
"Please do not tease me," Mordred said, his eyes widening as he gazed up at the older man with the mess of dark hair.
"I assure you, I am not," Emrys told him, his expression sobering as the earlier amusement drained from his face. "You know what you must do, don't you?"
"Please, tell me," Mordred locked his eyes with the warlocks, clutching at his jacket collar as if it were a life-line and he was out of his depth.
"You must prove to me that you can be trusted,"
"How? Have I not already proven my loyalty to the King? What else can I do?" since there was no one there to see it, the druid let his desperation slip into his voice; Emrys ran his hands up and down the druid's arms, tenderly.
"Yes, to the King. But it will take more than that to win over my trust," Mordred stared at him for a moment, disbelief plain in his features.
"You will not be happy until I'm out of the way. Until I am dead," his words were angry, but his tone was subdued, almost submissive.
"That's not true. I would like nothing more than for there to be an end to all this bloodshed," Emrys replied calmly, entwining the druid's hands with his own.
"I do not understand," Mordred admitted, looking both crestfallen and yet pleased by the warlocks show of affection.
"I believe in you," Emrys murmured, kissing one of his palms in encouragement. "And remember, if in doubt, serenade him using your druidical charm," the younger man chuckled quietly, looking down at his feet for a long time, before glancing up at the warlocks mischievous grin.
"Mordred," the person in question turned his head at the call of his name, but there was no one there. "Mordred!"
The druid started awake, to find himself caught in a pair of familiar, tired blue eyes. For a second, Mordred just smiled contentedly into those eyes, still lost in the remnants of his dream. But then the blissful haze lifted and he registered the questioning look on the older mans face.
"Breakfast's ready," the warlock said in a forced tone, his expression guarded once more, as he started to move away from the druid.
"Thank you," Mordred called out hastily, causing the warlock to turn back in his direction and acknowledge his gratitude. "Merlin," he gave a nod, a soft smile lighting his face as he watched the warlock expectantly. Merlin frowned mildly, studying the druid's expression. Gradually, his suspicion cleared and the hint of a smile crossed his wary face. Mordred reluctantly dropped his gaze, briefly satisfied as he pulled himself up off the forest floor and brushed the dirt and leaves from his armour.
'You've got twigs in your hair…' the druids head snapped up at the warlock, his lips parting in surprise. He couldn't see Merlin's expression but he heard the laugh in his voice. Mordred simply smiled to himself and started removing the twigs from his hair.