Bits in italics are from the episode script.
Merlin sat at home in his modest London flat. He never had much of a need for large homes, but he did own an old estate home out in the country. He visited occasionally, but he got better TV signal in the city.
And as tonight was Saturday night, he needed his good signal.
He had a few weeks until filming resumed for the beginning of series four, so he was able to take a mini holiday at home. But any holiday plans were put on hold to join the rest of Britain in watching Merlin each Saturday night.
It would sound more awkward if he didn't know how much hard work everyone put into the show.
He also enjoyed watching the final version to see how all the later effects were added and which scenes were taken out. He flipped to the correct channel and returned to his kitchen to finish preparing some tea and crisps. Tonight was a raspberry tea evening with Jaffa cakes.
The sound of John Hurt's deep voice calling his name brought him scurrying back to the living room. This week's episode was "The Sorcerer's Shadow." There hadn't been many effects for Merlin's team so he hadn't seen most of this episode. Some in the dailies and a bit in the gag reel at the wrap party.
He had enjoyed reading the first draft of this episode. It reminded him of some of his more stubborn students. It was the early fourteenth century when he formally set up a school on the Isle of Orkney; he had just been a wandering mentor before. But inspired by the early universities in England, he thought it best to have a permanent base of learning.
He didn't teach just magic there either. Sword fighting was taught as well as maths, astronomy, writing, and history. If it wasn't so secret, it might have rivalled many other famous magic schools of note. But he was selective in his admission process, and the greater magical community had not yet been able to break his spells.
Merlin: The way you fought earlier, that was incredible.
Gilli: Yeah?
Merlin: For someone your size to be able to beat a man like that. I'm sure a lot of people are going to think you're using magic. I'm not going to tell anyone.
Merlin couldn't help but face palm as he heard that line. He had thought for sure it would be polished up after the first draft. It was about the least subtle thing he could have said. Walls are thin and anyone could have heard that conversation. You don't talk like that when your very existence is illegal.
Merlin remembered having to rescue many such people that had not yet realised how corrupt Camelot was during Uther's reign. With a kingdom seemingly heading for bankruptcy, most people didn't hesitate to try to collect rewards for exposing sorcerers. He got very good at creating illusions in an instant. A few early mistakes taught him that the Knights were far less likely to hunt down someone they believed they saw die.
He had nearly gotten thrown in the dungeons multiple times, but he learned fast.
Merlin: You need to learn to use your magic for good! That is its true purpose! It's not meant for your own vanity!
Gilli: I'm not going to apologise for who I am! You can be a servant and, and pretend you're less than them, but I'm not going to...
Merlin: No, that's not what I do!
Gilli: No? You're defending the King! Protecting a man that would have you dead!
Merlin: I'm protecting you!
Gilli: You've been pretending for so long now that you've actually forgotten who you are.
Merlin: That's not true.
Merlin's heart faltered as he saw his own thoughts reflected on Colin's face. He wanted to deny that he never forgot who he was, but in the early years that wasn't quite true. Before his magic was common knowledge, he sometimes hid so well that he forgot. It was usually the Druids who reminded him when he was out in the woods hunting for herbs. He had many friends there who would lend an ear and scold him when he was being daft. They reminded him that he had many people who had vowed to serve him and he could call on them whenever. Even if it was just to sit and meditate or listen to stories of their lives. It was always a source of peace in his chaotic life. Those hours taking respite in a druid camp were treasured memories.
It was his dragons who saw him through the worst years. The Black Plague wiped out so many with magic, and Merlin felt them all. After realising his magic could do nothing against the disease, in some cases it made it worse, he fled to the crystal cave and refused to leave. Aithusa scolded him and proceeded to take advantage of the situation. She tricked him into leaving the cave to help hatch a new egg and transport them both off of the continent. Years later, Merlin realised he would never have managed that trip without the boost of magic the deaths from the plague gave him. Aithusa naturally denied any such machinations.
Gaius: Gilli is using magic for his own gain. It's corrupting him, poisoning him.
Merlin: Just let me talk to him.
Gaius: I fear it's too late.
Merlin: Gaius, please. You taught me what magic was for. You gave me the opportunity to be the person that I am today. I've had you to help me. Give me one more chance to talk to him.
Merlin liked the character of Gaius in the show. He would have benefitted greatly from a similar mentor. It was the librarian he had originally been apprenticed to. Sir William had been his surrogate father, but he had no magic himself.
But what Merlin learned from him, was that no librarian would ever burn a book. Despite the highly illegal nature of the texts, Merlin has easy access to a room full of magical books to study from.
He was further able to communicate with magicians abroad using hidden messages in the inquires William would send out.
Merlin still learned a great deal from the court physician though. Once he started accompanying the Knights on their excursions on a regular basis, he realised he needed more than a basic book knowledge of healing. There was only so long he could continue healing with magic and hoping that the physician wouldn't find him out.
The books he had studied had taught him some herbs beyond what he learned growing up in the countryside, but many special uses or tricks could only be learned by hand. He slowly grew to enjoy working with the physician more. It was another way to help people, and one that was not in danger of getting him executed. A little extra rain here or there would go unnoticed, but as the show pointed out, healing a person with only a poultice to show proved disastrous.
As the episode drew to a close, Merlin couldn't help but reflect on other kings and princes that he had tutored. His Arthur never had to face battling his father; Uther was much weaker in his old age. But other young princes who were more strong headed needed someone to knock some sense into them.
Merlin preferred teaching through fables and dreams, but sometimes he needed to interfere with his magic. There was a young king in France that he frequently needed to take down a few notches to see that not everyone was out to kill him. But soon afterwards, the age of nobility drew to a close. No one believed in magic anymore and no one needed his advising skills.
He missed it sometimes, the feeling of shaping the world through others. Maybe it was a little bit of his manipulative side shining through, but what could he say? He had thought he would've done well as a Slytherin.
AN: I know I just took a short break to do battle with this chapter, but sadly I am here to tell you that this story will be on another hiatus. I am starting grad school and so I expect to be busy. I will write when I can, but the next chapter update will be September 26th. As always, your reviews give me a boost of motivation and I love hearing your ideas for the story. I wish you all a good school year if you are still taking classes.
Equine 14: Thank you again for your reviews. Both on this story and on my other Merlin fics.
Guest: Thanks for your kind review. I don't plan on stopping my magic anytime soon. (It just needs to recharge.)