Hello all. This is my first fanfiction to ever post. I apologize for any trouble in flow/plot/grammar/ ext... If anyone reads this, please be nice with the reviews. I hope you will hold your judgments till, like, the third chapter because that's where the action begins (I think). This will probably be mostly fluff and adventure and all canon. Set after Season 3 episode 11, The sorcerers shadow with Gilli.
Note: Edited May 6th, 2019 (Finally)
Can't Teach an Old Dog New Tricks
In a land of myth and a time of magic, the destiny of a great Kingdom rests on the shoulders of a young boy. His name…. Merlin.
Chapter 1
It was stressful being the secret protector to the crown prince of Camelot. The title came with many hardships and requirements. The duties included (but were certainly not limited to) long hours of sneaking through corridors, setting up protection spells, stopping evil sorcerers, and all the while striving to remain undetected by anyone. Merlin had learned this the hard way from the many years he had been in the service of Prince Arthur. It was a constant balancing act of being Arthur's trustworthy servant when he was looking and secret protector anytime he wasn't. If any situation could summarize the difficulties of his job, Merlin supposed right now was a perfect example of his misfortune.
"Come on! Just fit in there already," Merlin stage whispered as he dragged the unconscious form of an assassin out to the servant's passage that connected to the prince's room. The assassin was proving to be just as troublesome asleep as he was awake. When Merlin had first discovered the assassin, he had just walked into the royal chambers, carrying a freshly washed load of laundry in his arms. Out of breath and distracted from mentally complaining about how many stairs he had to climb, he did not sense the intruder lurking. Merlin leaped in surprise as the door slammed shut behind him. The assassin raised his blade, ready to bring it down on whom he thought was the prince. Mid-swing, he paused in surprise at the lanky raven headed man in his place. Readjusting his swing, apparently not caring that Merlin was not his target, the assassin raised his sword again and chopped down at the defenseless man. Merlin dodged the sword strike, dropping all the laundry on to the floor and diving under the dinner table. The sword came down again and embedded itself into the table, centimeters away from Merlin's ear. With a quick flash of Merlin's eyes, the sword stuck in the wood. Pulling with all his strength, the assassin futilely attempted to get it out of the table. With this distraction, Merlin lunged for the door, hoping to call put for a guard.
The assassin saw him and gave up on the attempt to free the sword. Instead, he lunged after Merlin and grabbed at the servant's shirt. Merlin twisted just out of reach. A punch sailed over Merlin's head as he was forced to drop to the ground to avoid a painful encounter with the fist. Rolling up onto his stomach, he pushed himself up, getting ready to make another attempt for the door. The assassin was faster and dropped into a twirling squat, kicking Merlin's legs out from underneath him. With an "oof" Merlin tumbled back to the ground, smacking his leg onto the edge of one of Arthur's closets. He winced at the impact, but ignored the pain pulsing from his left shin. Merlin rolled onto his back and just in time to see the assassin pulled out a small knife from his belt. Seeing no other alternative as the man lunged with a manic glint in his eye, he yelled,
"Wáce ierlic!" The assassin was thrown back and smashed against the stone wall.
"Great," Merlin murmured. Now he had an unconscious body to dispose of. The warlock sat up and examined his shin, making sure nothing was seriously damaged. A large bruise was starting to form but nothing he had to worry about. Dropping his pant leg back down, he pushed himself off the ground and walked over to the assassin, examining him from a short distance. The man's cloth wrap mask covered most of his facial features. The small section of his face visible showed the small crinkles beginning to form around his eyes, interrupted only by a scar running from the tip of his left eyebrow off into the depth of his mask. Smaller scars ran down his bare muscular arms, left over from previous battles. All in all, yet another typical run of the mill assassin.
This was how Merlin found himself pulling the assassin bulky form out of the Prince's chambers. Even in his sleep, he was causing trouble. The little the assassin wore for armor was just bulky enough to get stuck in the door frame of the servant's hallway. Merlin gave up trying to drag him out by the armpits. Instead, he turned the killer to a more diagonal angle and awkwardly made his way into the servant's corridor, half carrying, half dragging his burden.
Just making it over the threshold of the doorway, Merlin tripped over his own feet and fell down underneath the behemoth of a man. They both crashed to the floor. Merlin was debating staying in the position and admitting defeat until the pounding of feet began to echo from the main hallway, just outside of the main door to the chamber. Merlin cursed his luck, Arthur had a nasty habit of turning up at the worst times.
Merlin wormed his way out from under the man and quickly grabbed his feet, which was the only body part still in the bedroom, and propped them up on the wall of the servant's corridors. Just enough so that he could close the bedroom door. With a panicky quick golden glow of the eyes, the clean clothes strewn across the floor flew up into Merlin's arms and folded themselves nicely. Not a second later, Arthur came barreling into his room obviously upset at something.
"Merlin! There you are! I've been looking for you!" He said as soon as he spotted his manservant in the corner.
"What's wrong sire?" Merlin cheekily replied, drowning the word sire in as much sarcasm as he could muster. Arthur opened his mouth to reply when his eyes landed on the large sword indent across his table. Merlin silently cursed his Arthur's observational skills. He had removed the sword when he dragged the assassin out of the chamber but forgot about the new battle scar the table had acquired.
"What did you do to my table!" The prince, horrified, ran his hand down the new divot in the table.
"Oh, erm, I had sharpened your sword and when I went to put it away, I tripped. It got stuck there." Merlin saying the first lie that came to him.
"You mean to tell me, that the one time you actually sharpen my blade, it then gets shoved into my table!" Arthur sighed and turned back to Merlin. "I suppose my blade is back to being as dull as you are."
"Look on the bright side, I'm sure it can't possibly get as dull as you, sire." Merlin grinned back at Arthur while putting away the clothes into the closet, keenly aware of an unconscious assassin outside the prince's chambers. Arthur lunged for a goblet in the middle of the table, still left over from breakfast. He lobbed it at Merlin who expertly dodged the projectile and ran for cover out the door of the servants' chamber. He expertly opened the door of the escape passage just enough to fit through, but not enough for Arthur to see into the corridor.
"Wait Merlin," Arthur called. The servant stuck his head back into the room. "I need you up early tomorrow, a delegation from the town of Hathrow are coming for the day to discuss their taxes. They have been complaining about over taxation for years and my father has finally agreed to meet with a few of them to settle the dispute. Seeing as I will inherit this kingdom one day, the King has asked for my presence at the meeting. So, on this rare occasion, I would like to be woken up on time. Assuming, of course, that you are capable; I would like you here when you are meant to be."
"Aren't I always?" Merlin asked as he ducked back out into the corridor.
"No, you most certainly are not!" He heard Arthur call as the door shut behind him.
Arthur shook his head in fond annoyance and began his journey back out to the training fields. For this week, his father had also placed him in charge of babysitting the young knight wannabes. For Arthur, it was a boring and menial task, watching the young men try to wield a sword with the expertise of a professional. Personally, he would have much rather been training with the more experienced knights. No coddling was needed as they sparred. His father, however, had a different plan for the prince and after an hour of argument, the King lost his temper and demanded his son follow his orders. Arthur glumly continued on his long trek to the courtyard. Meanwhile, Merlin stood confused in the empty corridor just outside the prince's room, staring at the space where the assassin's body used to be.
"It tastes awful Merlin!" Arthur complained at dinner that evening, spitting out whatever he had in his mouth. Merlin had spent all day searching for the escaped assassin but found no trace of him. He had been keeping a close watch on Arthur for the rest of the day, unsure if the assassin would return. Merlin had deposited Arthur's dinner in his chambers as fast as he could and meandered around the chambers, searching for any signs of trouble. He didn't want to leave Arthur alone for any length of time. After all of his hard work and quick service, he was thanked by a cranky Arthur, complaining about his drink of all things.
"Arthur, it's water," Merlin said tiredly, "It's not supposed to taste great, but not as bad as you're making it out to be."
"I think you should try it, tell me your formal opinion," Arthur poured Merlin a small cup and handed it to him with a small glint in his eye. Merlin just eyed Arthur, wondering how spoiled he had to be, complaining about the taste of his water. Merlin shrugged and gave a bottoms up gesture. As soon as the liquid touched his tongue however, he spit it back out into the cup. He pulled a face that made Arthur smile in triumph. He grabbed a grape off of Arthur's dinner plate and chewed it, hoping to get the foul taste out of his mouth.
"That tastes worse than one of Gaius's potions!" Merlin exclaimed after he had swallowed the grape, which did little to help the flavor.
"Where did you get the water? From the horse's water bucket?" Arthur followed Merlin's lead and ate some bread off of his plate to rid himself of the flavor.
"I got it from where I get it every day!" Merlin took the pitcher of water over to the window and poured its contents out into the corner of the castle below. A stray dog came over and started lapping it up into his mouth. "Oi, off that!" Merlin called down to the dog, who promptly ignored him and continued on his merry way. He walked back to the table and took the wine pitcher he had just brought up from the kitchen and poured Arthur another drink, which he gulped down greedily. Merlin wracked his brain for what could have caused such a distinct flavoring to the water.
"Now that I think about it, maybe I used a different pale than I usually do. But that's never been a problem before. All the servants clean them out when they're done." He reasoned.
"Which brings us back to the main problem of servants. As I was saying, the new knights are demanding more servants because there's a shortage, due to a sickness that seems to be spreading in the lower town. I told them that they might have to make do with what they have, but they are demanding more workers. So I have generously volunteered you to help out with some of the duties." Merlin groaned out loud, desperately trying to find a reason he shouldn't do the extra work and stick close to Arthur in case the assassin came back. "You get to sharpen swords, polish more armor, and attend to the knights if worst comes to worst."
"How come I get all the heavy lifting jobs?" Merlin complained.
"Don't be such a girl Merlin." Arthur said smiling at his servants' antics. Merlin faced away from him, and his face grew serious at the thought of leaving Arthur alone. "Well," he reasoned in his head, "I can place more wards around the chambers and training grounds to alert me to any activity I don't know of." He decided to be more vigilant of unusual activity. Figuring that it was the best he was going to be able to do without alerting Arthur to an Assassin that knows of Merlin's magic, Merlin conceded to the extra work he was going to be doing. With mumbled protest, Merlin continued to clean the table from dinner.
"It's going to be a long week." Merlin thought to himself.
In another part of the castle, a man ducked into a notch in the wall as a guard passed by, his torch illuminating the dark corridors. As the guard turned the corner, he stuck his head out of the cove and scanned for more people. A tug on his coat stopped him as a statue caught his sleeve. He untangled himself hurriedly wanting to avoid any guards. He quietly slipped out of his hiding spot and continued on his trek to his employers meeting place. He stood quietly on top of one of the walls surrounding Camelot. It overlooked the sleeping buildings in the lower part of the kingdom. His employer was nowhere to be seen. He opted to wait it out for a little bit.
On the outside he was the perfect statue, silently staring out into the horizon. In his mind, images raged through his head as he reviewed the events of the day. A sorcerer in the midst of Camelot, a servant to the prince no less. The boy had managed to knock him out and humiliated him by leaving him in such a vulnerable and uncomfortable position. He gritted his teeth at the thought of being defeated without so much as a fight. As a man of integrity, the assassin knew he could not handle his reputation tainted with the report of a mere boy easily overtaking him. "The boy is not crucial to the report," the assassin reasoned. There was no need for his employer to know about that failure. With still no sign of his benefactor, he decided to wait two more minutes before leaving to minimize the risk of being seen.
The assassin did not have to wait long. A quick clicking sound alerted the man to an approaching figure covered in a dark cloak. He kneeled down on the ground, head bowed in front of his employer.
"Is it done?" A female voice asked from underneath the hood.
"It is, my lady. The plan went accordingly." His deep Celtic voice was muffled underneath the cloth covering his mouth. The assassin stood up in front of the woman, looking to the part of the cloak where her eyes would have been had her face been visible. She reached into her cloak and pulled out a sack of money.
"As promised," she told the man. He bowed his head and grabbed the pouch, double checking his payment. Bowing again, he took his leave. The gray-cloaked figure watched as the assassin walked around the corner and out of site. She allowed a small smirk of triumph to flitter across her face. The Lady Morgana turned on her heel and headed back down the corridor and into her chambers. If her plan worked out, no one could save Arthur and the crown would be hers.
