Author's Note: Please read the Author's Note of "Poison" for information on where on Earth I've been, why I haven't updated, and what is going on with my fic Relationships.
I entered a Merlin fanfiction contest on Tumblr a couple of weeks ago, and I thought I would post my contest submissions on here as well! This was my fic for Prompt 2. The prompt was "Book", along with this image: http : / / farm6. static. flickr. com/ 5064/ 5680591336 _ c2fc18d94b _ z .jpg. The word count was around 1,000 words, and I wrote 911. This fic won me the contest, so I hope you enjoy it!
If you would like to hear this fic read in a podcast, visit http : / / beenwandering. tumblr. com/ post/ 4915698224/ pariahcam-wrote-the-winning-entry-for . The reader's voice is absolutely incredible! I highly recommend listening to it.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, not even the image of the pretty library.
It was a desolate place. Dry, dusty, ravaged by looters. There were holes in the roof and floor, and plant life was beginning to take advantage of them. But it was a place Merlin had fallen in love with on sight, and he knew he'd love it until the day he died.
The library had been built nearly a century ago by the Druids. It had been constructed in a time of peace, when wizards were acknowledged as gentle, caring beings rather than evil, vindictive monsters. It had been a time of glory, where wizards and witches were sought after more passionately than the latest, most rewarding trade. They served as Healers, Prophets, Leaders, Teachers, and Protectors. They were the heart and soul of the villages they tended to. They were as important to the towns as breath was to the body. They had been the commanders of a time where the word "wizardry" was synonymous with "hope".
Such times had faded long ago. Now, war, hunger, and pain pillaged every kingdom, every city, every family, every being. Evil was running rampant, and the once-great protectors were now seen as the harbingers of Death, the cart with which all that was terrible was loaded on. Nearly everything that the wizards had once stood for, and had once stood for them, was gone. But the library remained. The Druids had kept it safe from human contact, and Merlin couldn't have been happier.
As he had, over time, become accustomed to, Merlin left Camelot before the sun rose on Saturday, his only day off. Just like every other Saturday, he packed a lunch, a few rolls of parchment, and left the city. Unlike every other Saturday, however, this time, Merlin was followed. He didn't notice the shadow stalking him. He had been far too transfixed with his goal, far too focused on the path ahead to hear the ever-so-quiet footsteps of the soul behind him.
When he entered the library, he simply stood in the doorway for a moment in awe. The sun had begun to rise, casting the oddest of shadows through the building. Everything had begun to turn a faint orange with the dawn light, and to Merlin, there were few things more beautiful. He stepped forward into his haven, picking up a despondent book off of the floor. It was a book of Magic – as were most in the vast collection – focusing on the topic of gangrene and how to cure it. The young warlock placed it delicately on a nearby table and made his way over toward one of the lower sections that focused on defense without injury, a topic he feared he would someday need to know much about.
A loud noise, the sound of someone clearing their throat, echoed through the library all of a sudden, making Merlin jump and spin around in surprise. He lifted his hand up instinctively, ready to defend himself, but he quickly realized there was no need. A soft, very familiar chuckle quickly eased the tension in the room that the same voice had created, and the figure stepped out of the shadows and into the sunlight.
"Rather on edge this morning, aren't we?" Sir Lancelot smiled at Merlin.
"Well I'm not exactly used to being stalked, am I?" Merlin replied, returning the expression.
"No, I suppose not. So what is this place?"
For a moment, Merlin hesitated to tell the truth. He had become so accustomed to lying about wizardry and his true self that he was loathe to speak about it to even those he knew understood the reality about him.
"It's…a library…for wizards…" He whispered the last two words, looking anywhere but at Lancelot.
"I see," The young knight replied, equally as quiet. "So, are there spells about anything in here?"
"Basically. It's the largest collection of spells most anyone's ever seen, anyway."
"Really?" Lancelot looked around, rather in awe of the vastness of the building. "Can anyone practice magic, or do you have to be born with it, like you?"
"It's…hard to explain…" Merlin raised an eyebrow, wondering what his friend was up to. "There has to be a…a sort of spark, I suppose, in your soul. Some are born with it, some aren't. But to use magic, you have to learn to feed off of that spark and channel it in the proper way. It's rather difficult, and even if you have the spark…type…thing…it doesn't mean you'll be able to perform magic."
"Can I try?"
"What? Lancelot…it's…illegal, and you're a knight, and why would you even want to?"
Lancelot laughed. "Relax, Merlin. You're turning into such an uptight pessimist these days. I doubt Gwaine is very fond of that," He smirked. "Besides, there's only one spell I want to try. I know what to say and everything," Merlin got the feeling that he should be nervous. Lancelot was slowly walking toward him, that odd grin still on his face. He looked hopeful, but at the same time sad. Excited, and also wary. "Please can I try? Just once?"
"I don't know…I really don't think you sh-"
"I love you."
Merlin blinked. Lancelot grinned.
"Wh…what?" Merlin's breath was gone, his mind and heart racing.
The knight simply stepped forward and kissed the warlock on the mouth. Merlin kissed back, and after a moment, the two pulled apart.
"It worked," Lancelot whispered. "I got you to kiss me. I performed magic, and I didn't even need a silly book."