Don't own Merlin.
AU: Gwen and Arthur aren't together, Merlin is Grand Court Sorcerer; I didn't really bring anyone else into this.
I Can Hear Them Screaming
The first time he heard them, he had startled awake, his eyes a miniature sun. His magic thrummed about him like a concerned heartbeat, before going lax and wrapping around him, a loving serpent of comfort. He couldn't find rest that night and so stayed up, his eyes never straying from the world outside his window.
He couldn't bring himself to be surprised when a group of druids presented themselves before court the next day.
He heard them the next night, and just like the night before, he woke with his eyes blazing gold. The two Sidhe staves on his wall glowed with a brilliant light from their jewels, and his magic hung in the air, trying to protect him from an unknown enemy. He moved without thinking, navigating his way through the darkened castle to the vaults.
When he arrived, a sorcerer was holding the Crystal of Neahtid. With a flare of his magic the Crystal reacted, ripping the magic out of the enemy sorcerer and incinerating them in a second, before lying innocuously in their ashes. He strode forward and gently picked the Crystal up, feeling its magic caress against his own.
No one questioned the Grand Court Sorcerer the next day when he claimed the Crystal would be safer in his chambers than in the vaults.
And so became the ritual. He would sleep in the night until he was jolted awake, his magic hanging around him like a discontent guard dog as he watched the rest of the world sleep until morning. The magical items in the room would light up in response to his distress, before dimming as the sun rose.
After that, he would simply leave to wake his King, as he lived in the connecting antechamber for added protection. He would tell his King of the approaching magical group or item, then leave to collect herbs or perform some other task for his mentor and father-figure.
The week Gilli visited Camelot, his ring kept trying to burn off his finger to reach Merlin. The warlock was forced to spend that week away from Camelot and instead traveled the land around it. He returned with a druidic tattoo on his chest and a magic even stronger than before.
He began waking from his nights screaming.
A week later, he woke from his sleep to find the Cup of Life on the desk beside him.
Another week, the Mage Stone was lying in the curve of his neck.
Yet another week and wyverns appeared outside the city walls, one always following Merlin wherever he went.
The only time he could get a full night's sleep was when he slept beside Arthur on hunting trips (which were becoming less often as it were), or when he slept with Excalibur beside him.
Excalibur, the sword burnished upon his request by a dragon's breath, his magical child in all but deed. He cradled it in his arms (though his magic disdained from all but Merlin himself), and felt a calm acceptance wash over him. His own breath fogging the blade, the warlock fell into a dreamless sleep.
He would wake and return the sword to its master, and if he didn't meet Gaius' eyes as he ate with him, neither mentioned it.
"What's going on, Gaius? What is Merlin waking from? Why is he collecting magical artifacts? He's soundproofed his room, but I've heard his screams." Arthur paced the length of the physician's room, his cape brushing the ground softly. "I…worry about him, Gaius. He barely sleeps, he barely eats, he's only at peace if he has Excalibur in his arms…it's not healthy."
Gaius sighed as he watched the King's pacing, but he could understand his concern. He felt the same as Arthur did, the increasing worry they both had as Merlin seemed to wither away and yet glow before their eyes. "I can only tell you what Merlin's told me, and my theory regarding it, Sire. Merlin tells me that he hears screaming, late into the night. Voices, screaming to him for help and comfort; screaming for love and acceptance.
"Now, the only theory I can make from this is that magical beings – creatures, people, objects – seek his protection. Merlin isn't just a High Priest of the Old Religion; he could be considered a piece of the Old Religion himself. Magical beings wish to be one with him, to return from whence they came. So they cry out to him; they cry like pups to their mother, seeking his warmth and strength.
"And, like children, they know not that their cries tear him apart each and every night. They cry, and cry, yearning for Merlin to come and save them from the dark. I believe that that's what's keeping him awake, the cries from magic for his love." The two locked eyes then, but didn't know what to say as the weight of the situation crashed down on them both.
Merlin was suffering, and they knew why, but they could do nothing about it.
Merlin was honestly surprised when Arthur commanded him to sleep beside him. He moved forward, steps as shy as an unsure animal, before settling as far from his King as he could. He heard Arthur sighed as if annoyed behind him, and then yelped as a thick arm wrapped around his waist and pulled him so that his back rested against Arthur's chest. He struggled a little before pausing as a smaller weight was settled in front of him.
He eyed the new weight, before letting a happy smile escape. It was Excalibur that was placed in front of him, and there was no hesitation in him as he pulled the sword closer, letting it rest in the crook of his arms like he would a child.
It was the first night of many that he spent in the King's bed, and though his magic envied Arthur for the comfort he brought its master, it couldn't deny Merlin what little pleasures he could find.
He no longer screamed in the night.
Like many before it, this didn't turn out like I thought it would. Like that tiny bit of Merthur at the end; didn't actually see that coming, to be honest. Oh well, what can you do? Hope you guys liked it.
Please review.
Ja ne!