Author's Note:

Wow, what a great response! I'm so glad y'all like it, and I decided that you all totally deserve another chapter NOW! I'd like to stay having written at least five or six chapters ahead of the one I'm posting, though, so this may not be a regular occurance. Thank you all so much again, especially the reviewers, and I hope you enjoy this next chapter!

Without ado, Soulmates Numbers One and Two.

Summary: The soulmate words were seemingly the one form of magic Uther Pendragon could not best. Merlin has never wanted hers; they are sure to be a great deal of trouble on top of being a warlock. After all, soulmarks are a type of magic, and she has eight.

Spoilers for BBC's Merlin, Seasons One-Five

Warnings: Slight Angst, Multiple Canonical/Non-canonical Character Deaths

Chapter 2:

Merlin's feet are sore from her new boots by the time she can see the walls of Camelot, but even that can't stop the wonder, awe, and happiness from appearing on her face. Gaius, the court physician and her mother's relative, will help her. She will be happy, free, and able to avoid any and all soulmates as necessary.

Camelot, for a place she always dreaded, is beautiful in so many ways. Merlin readjusts her bedroll and pack, straightens her favorite red neckerchief under her well-worn jacket, and walks through the gates for the first time, ignoring the looks she gets for being female and daring to wear breeches and a tunic. If she stays, they'll get used to it.

The beauty is marred by the execution.

"This man, Thomas James Collins, is guilty of the crime of using enchantments and magic." Uther Pendragon, King of Camelot, is just as she always feared him to be.

She can't tear her eyes away as the axe comes down. The old woman, the mother of the unfortunate man, is so distraught that Merlin would have pitied her, if she didn't already.

This might not have been such a good idea, Merlin thinks for a moment.

And—she glances sideways at the flash of a red cloak—it is almost certain that one of her soulmates is a knight. Visiting knights go through Camelot all the time, and that's if he isn't a Camelot knight himself.

She asks directions to the court physician and absentmindedly consoles herself that at least Sir Knight wouldn't insist on titles, probably, and there was practically no chance that any of her other soulmates would be higher ranked. She'll do her best to avoid them, anyway. Merlin smiles to herself, reassured, and walks through the door to Gaius's chambers.

The warlock decides she likes him almost immediately, and fights the urge to jump up and down on her new bed. Although, she wonders more sedately, if he might not like the fact that she has eight soulmates.

Merlin doesn't get a chance to bring it up, and is sent out to help him do his rounds. She is walking back to his chambers, intent on finding the aging physician to discuss soulmates when it happens.

A blond man, looking to be maybe just twenty to her eighteen-nearly-nineteen, is throwing knives at a target while the servant is still carrying it.

Merlin has avoided calling anyone she doesn't know friend for as long as she can remember, but she is so annoyed at the young man's bullying that it slips her mind. "That's enough! You've had your fun, my friend."

The servant drops the target in shock, and the courtyard immediately falls silent. She takes advantage of that to stop the rolling target with her foot. The blond has zeroed in on her, and is looking her up and down with a faint air of surprise and annoyance and curiosity.

"You do not know me, and yet you call me friend?" he half-states, half-asks.

She can practically feel the black script running from the back of her right hand all the way up her arm to her shoulder burning.

Oh, no!

Merlin says as much out loud.

"I have been intrigued for years about the man who would dare to call me friend without even knowing who I was. It seems it was not a man at all." He continues, ignoring her protest completely.

"Oh, no!" she says again. "This isn't right. I could never have a soulmate who's such an ass!"

His eyes narrow in annoyance. "Nor I a soulmate who is such an idiot!"

Merlin's eyes spark with defiance. "Soulmate or not, I swear I'll still hit you!"

Blond doesn't even spare a moment for consideration. "You wouldn't dare!"

She kicks him.

Hard.

He rolls over on the ground, clutching his groin. "I'll…put you in the dungeon…for that! Guards!" They appear out of thin air, two to grab her elbows and two more to hoist Blond up.

She really needs something to call him besides Blond, she reflects idly, attempting to kick one of the guards, who has the foresight to see it coming and dodge away. Prat might be good.

"Who do you think you are, the king?" she spits defiantly.

Blond has recovered enough to stay up on his own, and glares at her, shooing the guards away and grabbing her elbow himself. "No, I'm his son, Prince Arthur."

Okay, so Merlin regrets her assumption of the day before. No one higher ranked than a knight, indeed. Apparently one of her soulmates is a prince. How that happened, she will never know.

Blond—Arthur drags her through the castle by her elbow; earning her a sympathetic glance from the maidservant Merlin had noticed watching the exchange out a window earlier. He drops her off at the dungeons with an order to the guards to let her out in the morning.

Prat might be good, she thinks. Or His Royal Pratness. Oh, yes, that was just fine.

He walks out the door only to reappear a moment later. "What's your name, and where are you staying? I'll need to know for later."

"It's Merlin," she says finally, letting him win this one. "Gaius, the physician, is my mother's half-brother. I'm staying with him."

Arthur nods once, opens his mouth to say something else, but apparently decides against it and leaves.

Merlin lets out a groan and sinks back onto the hay, rubbing her temples. One soulmate on her second day in Camelot. And a prince to boot. She can feel a headache coming on.

"That bad, huh?" One of the cell guards asks sympathetically. She nods in defeat.

He chuckles. "I pity anyone who's soulmate to the prince. You sure do have your work cut out for you, there, missy."

"Thanks," she replies. "I think." If Merlin hears a distant, gravelly voice calling her name…well, the warlock just ignores it.

"Merlin. Merlin!"

It's been a long day.

Gaius hears about what happened, and gets her out.

She honestly wouldn't mind entertaining the market kids with the stocks, really, if the headache hadn't come on with full force. She grins anyway, and ducks halfheartedly and almost enjoys herself.

Arthur walks by with a group of knights-in-training, and laughs at her for a moment, but she grins back cheerily and ducks again and silently laments her hair.

The kids run off to the kitchens to find more rotten fruit, and the maidservant Merlin had seen yesterday takes advantage of the brief lull.

"I need to make better life choices," Merlin is muttering to herself, shaking her hair back out of her face.

"I think what you did yesterday was very brave." The girl supplies reassuringly. Her smile fades at Merlin's look of shock. Two already? Really? "Oh, sorry, I don't think we've been introduced?" she asks.

Merlin swallows, fighting the urge to try and look down at the flowing handwriting wrapped twice around her left ankle. She wouldn't be able to see it anyway. "Oh. Right. I'm Merlin, but most people call me idiot. Are we soulmates?"

The girl's mouth opens in an O of shock that Merlin figures must be mirroring her own. She takes a second to collect herself visibly. "Well—well, yes, I suppose we are. I'm—I'm Guinevere, but most people—my friends call me Gwen." She reaches over and they shake hands slightly awkwardly.

Merlin can't help but grin. Even if she couldn't avoid this soulmates business, possibly it wouldn't be as bad as Arthur all the time. "Gwen, I have a feeling we're going to be great friends." The warlock chuckles to herself. "Well! Camelot is full of surprises."

Gwen smiles a bit more. "Yes, well, I saw what you did. Arthur's a bully, and everyone's quite impressed. You're a bit of a hero."

"Really?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"Oh. Well…" Merlin notices the kids lining up again to starting throwing again. "I'd better go, Guinevere. My fans are waiting!"

"Oh!" Gwen pulls a ribbon out of her pocket. "I'd meant to give you this—to try and save your hair." She quickly and neatly ties Merlin's mane of black, perpetually messy hair back to the nape of her neck.

Merlin gives her a smile of pure gratitude. Gwen is a beautiful, beautiful human being. "Thank you, thank you! I'll find some way to thank you for this, I swear!"

Gwen laughs and steps out of the line of fire. "I'm so glad I met you, Merlin! We'll talk later."

The first thing Merlin does when they finally let her out of the stocks is take a hot bath.

Perks of being born with magic are few and far between, she knows, but hot water at the touch of her hand? It's the best. Her clothes are covered with fruit, so she puts on new ones to keep up appearances, but magically cleans the old ones anyway and puts her jacket back on.

Gaius is an amazing cook. His food looks very gross sometimes, but if you can bring yourself to put it in your mouth, you will be in flavor heaven. Merlin sits down to dinner with him and tries to figure out how to bring up soulmates. As it turns out, she doesn't need to.

"So, the king told me when I requested that you be let out of the dungeon that you were Prince Arthur's soulmate. Is that correct, Merlin?"

The young warlock looks down and puts more soup in her mouth. "Maybe," she mumbles.

Gaius lets out a breath, folding his hands on top of the table and looking at her seriously. "Do you realize what this means, Merlin? The future king of Camelot has a soulmate who is a sorcerer!"

"I'm a warlock, Gaius, and anyway, Arthur isn't going to understand about…me!" She waves a hand at herself. "He's a total prat. It's not going to happen. But anyway, I wanted to talk to you about soulmates. I met another one of my platonics when I was in the stocks earlier."

Gaius's eyes widen. "Another one? Exactly how many soulmarks do you have?"

"Her name's Gwen, and she's really nice. She gave me a hair ribbon so my hair wouldn't get completely covered with tomato. Do you know her?"

Gaius sighs, putting his spoon down with a clink. "Yes, I know her. She's maid to the Lady Morgana. She's very sweet, and I'm sure you two will get along famously. Merlin, answer my question. How many soulmates do you have?"

Merlin swallows her mouthful hesitantly. "Eight."

"Eight? My goodness, dear girl, are you sure?"

"Pretty sure, yeah."

Gaius gives her a long look, nods, and goes back to his meal as though it holds all the answers. Merlin wonders if it does, and leans forward just a bit to peek into the bowl.

Nothing in it but soup. It's not until later that she realizes, Soup. Of course that bowl held all the answers.

There's something a bit off about Lady Helen and that funny doll thing in her chambers, but Merlin sees Gwen in the corridor and goes off to chat a bit; and puts it out of mind. Nothing will come of it, she's sure.

Merlin holds onto her luck and Arthur doesn't send for her.

But then, of course, he finds her in the lower town on her way back from doing an errand for Gaius, so it doesn't matter, anyway. It

"Merlin? Is that you?"

She walks a bit quicker. Maybe His Royal Pratness won't think it's her.

"Oh, come on, don't be like that! We are soulmates, after all. You don't need to run away!" he says in a rather teasing voice, spreading his arms wide.

Merlin stops in her tracks, turning to face him with a glare. "The only thing I'd run from, Soulmate, is your face."

Arthur looks taken aback for only a moment, before surveying her up and down. "Well, I don't see that you're any better. You not only act as though you were born in a barn, you look like you live in one."

She can feel herself flush red, clenching her fists inside the sleeve of her slightly-too-big and worn favorite jacket. "Look, I told you that you're an ass, I just didn't realize that you were a royal one. And I won't even hesitate to kick you again."

Arthur manages to wince and look affronted at the same time. If she isn't so annoyed, she might laugh at his expression.

"Look, you can't talk to me like that!" He finally protests, hands on his hips, choosing to ignore her jibe about the day before.

Merlin chooses to deliberately misinterpret his remark, letting a smirk work its way onto her face. "Oh, I apologize." She bows low. "I won't hesitate to kick you again, my lord."

Arthur turns as red as she did before, crosses his arms back over his chest, and tries to ignore the comments again, changing the topic. "Are you any good with a mace, Merlin? You're so…" he waves his arms at all of her, "…unconventional, I almost wouldn't be surprised. I, of course, have been trained to kill from birth."

This is the last straw. Damn politeness and propriety. "And how long have you been training to be a prat?"

...Oh, dear.