Warning/s: Brief gruesome imagery
Chapter Summary: "A creature . . . that grants wishes?" Arthur says slowly, looking as incredulous as Merlin feels.
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Chapter I: Did you rub my lamp?
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When the village woman comes to seek an audience with the king about a magical creature, Merlin does not expect it to be anything but disastrous.
Looking back on it, he is right in a way.
"A creature . . . that grants wishes?" Arthur says slowly, looking as incredulous as Merlin feels. They exchange meaningful glances.
'Well?' the king's rapid blink asks.
Merlin's brows furrow. 'I've never heard of such a creature before.'
Arthur rolls his eyes. 'Of course you haven't. Why am I asking an idiot like you?'
Merlin scowls.
Both turn their attention back to the village woman.
"Yes." There are bags underneath the woman's eyes, lips dry and face wrinkled. She hesitates before saying, "We – We were joyful, at first, Sire. The Djinn, for that is what he calls himself, seemed like a blessing from the gods. We asked for a bountiful harvest and the next day, the fields were painted gold with fully grown wheats. The leader's son fell ill and we wished for him to heal, and he did. Someone took advantage of the miller's daughter and we sought justice. The Djinn gave us the culprit."
"But?" Arthur cuts in. "I see why you would have thought this . . . Djinn has good intentions. But you must never trust anything that uses magic."
Merlin, through the years of practice, successfully suppresses a flinch. His eyelids flutter close for one painful moment. He wishes he can truthfully say that he's used to it. Every accusation, every proclamation of the evilness of magic, especially coming from Arthur, is like a dagger between his ribs.
"F-Forgive us, Y-Your Highness –" The woman starts paling.
Arthur makes a gesture and the woman falls silent. "I will not fault you or your village for being fooled. You only thought what was best for the town," the king says, a hint of pity in his tone. "What has he done that clued you to his malignant intentions?" Arthur asks.
The woman wrings her hands. "People have gone missing, Sire. People who have last been seen talking to the Djinn."
"How many?" The king's expression darkens.
"Eleven, Sire. Five are merely teenagers." The woman barely contains a sob. "One of them is my boy."
Merlin's chest aches, sympathetic to the mother's plight. He wonders how anyone, sorcerer or no, could do anything that would put such grief on a person's face. Do they like the torment they see upon their features? Do they feel better after such acts?
The warlock hopes he will never find out.
Arthur looks thoughtful for several seconds. His eyes roam the throne room, straying to the murmuring noblemen and councilors. The village woman stands nervously in the middle of them all.
"We should go and help them, Sire," a councilor, a gray-haired oily old man, suggests. "If this is truly a magical threat, then we should dispose of the creature immediately."
The others declare their assent.
"Or maybe we should imprison this Djinn, interrogate him," another voices out.
Arthur's eyes narrow. Uh-oh. That doesn't look good, Merlin thinks.
"Hmm, yes, yes. I believe that would be better! He – He might be hiding some other magic friends of his."
"There are cuffs in the vaults that can bind a sorcerer's magic."
Merlin pales. Cuffs that bind magic? In the vaults? This is the first he has heard of such. He fights off a shudder. If Arthur finds out, if he is captured, put to trial . . .
"Silence," Arthur calls firmly. The noblemen cease their babbling and Merlin breaks out of his morbid musings.
The king has come to a decision, Merlin belatedly realizes. The servant sees it in the set of his shoulders and purse of his lips.
Arthur adopts an apologetic look as he addresses the village woman once more. "Milda, I am truly sorry but I cannot spare my knights for this."
The woman stares in shock and despair. "S-Sire."
Merlin's eyes widen in disbelief. What is Arthur thinking? It isn't like him at all to refuse to provide help, especially to one in desperate need of it! The king, this same king, had followed Merlin to Ealdor to defend a town that isn't even his. This is the same man who had helped a druid child escape from his father's clutches even though it went against his very belief. This is the man who went on a quest to save a mere servant's life!
How – Why? Merlin wants to shake Arthur until he makes sense again.
Shouts of protests start from the councilors, demanding that Arthur explains himself.
Arthur stares coolly at them until they get the hint and stay silent. Then, the king complies. "A creature that can grant any wish is unheard of. Even our Court Physician who is an expert on such things cannot confirm it."
All turn to Gaius at that. The old man shoot Arthur a discrete questioning look (which Merlin catches and causes him to even be more puzzled) before clearing his throat. "Yes, I've never read of a Djinn or anything that can grant wishes in any of my books."
The councilors frown and whisper. "Are you sure, Gaius?"
The physician nods sagely. "Quite sure, I'm afraid. No such thing could exist."
The murmurs ascends. The features of some of the councilors twist in rage as they turn to the village woman.
"You are a liar, then," he accuses.
The woman blanches. "N-No, please, S-Sire, you have to believe me." Tears run down her cheeks, sorrow painting her posture.
Arthur merely shakes his head. "I'm sorry." Then, he stands up, straightening his jacket and tunic. "I believe that is all the time that we have for today. Court dismissed!"
Merlin finds himself angry at the nonchalance of his tone. Why is Arthur acting like this? The poor woman, having traveled all the way to the castle, is breaking down and he acts like he could care less! Has he been enchanted? A candle lights up in Merlin's mind and with his epiphany, everything makes sense. Arthur's been enchanted (again). Merlin sighs inwardly. And as always, it is the servant who has to lift the spell.
However, as the noblemen are filing out and the village woman is on her knees, Arthur pulls Merlin to the side.
"Accompany Milda to my chambers," Arthur whispers, gloved hand on Merlin's nape. 'Take the servant routes and make sure no one sees you two."
"What? Why?" Merlin's exclamation is almost a shout and Arthur glares.
The kings cuffs him on the neck and Merlin grimaces. "Just do what I say, clotpole. Tell her I will hear her out there."
"But you've already heard her out," Merlin says, trying to make sense of Arthur's plans. "And you refused her!"
Arthur looks up, asking the gods for patience. "I swear, Merlin, if you don't stop questioning me, you'll be in dog-walking duty again."
Merlin squeaks. "Please don't."
"Then get to it!" The servant blinks slowly at the king. "Now! Preferably before she leaves and render all of this act useless," Arthur remarks so dryly that the desert seems moist.
"Right." Merlin scurries away and towards the woman sobbing in the middle of the room.
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"A-Are you sure?" Milda asks, voice hoarse from crying. She dabs the hanky Merlin lent her upon her puffy eyes. "He just – He said . . ."
Merlin smiles, grasping her elbow and leading her to a narrow hallway. "I'm sure, Milda. The king actually wants to hear you out. But he can't agree in front of his advisors."
The poor woman looks confused. "But why?"
That's Merlin's question too. However, thinking carefully about it, he now has some idea to why Arthur acted the way he did. Arthur wouldn't be so callous, Merlin knows. Whatever plan he has, it'll help Milda one way or another. "He'll explain later," the servant assures. "He acts like a prat at times but he's not cruel." And Merlin should have deduced Arthur's facade earlier.
Merlin glances left and right before they turn a corner, making sure no one else is in sight. They are nearing their destination.
Scandalized, Milda whispers, "Y-You just called the king –"
"A prat?" The servant grins. He turns and mockingly salutes the guard in front of the king's chambers. The guard shakes his head, smiling, and goes to unlock the door.
"Worse insults have come out of this idiot's mouth," Arthur remarks with a smirk, strutting towards them, cloak flaring dramatically behind him.
The guard stands to attention like a good little citizen. Milda yelps in surprise, eyes widening as they met the king's. She remembers herself and lowers her eyes and head. Merlin cocks an unimpressed brow, meeting Arthur's gaze head-on. Milda thinks with horror that the boy is going to get hanged for his insolence but Arthur merely rolls his eyes and gestures at his room.
"Get in, then."
The three of them enter. Merlin bolts the door and leads Milda to one of the dining chairs. Arthur removes his crown and cloak, putting them down on the first nearest place; really, Arthur could have at least put them on the table! But no, they go on top of a cabinet instead.
Merlin takes a seat beside Milda, giving her a comforting smile. The king sits on the chair across Milda's, pulling out his gloves. "I apologize for my earlier callousness, Milda, but it was necessary," he explains, looking properly apologetic.
Milda tries to hide her astonishment at a king apologizing to her. "I – I'm sure you have your reasons, Your Highness."
Arthur nods, determined. "I do. You see, I believe you, I believe that this creature exists. But it would be folly to spread this information about."
A realization dawns on Merlin. "Someone who could grant any wish . . . If the wrong person finds out, they could take advantage." Not all wishes are for the good of the many. Merlin knows that first hand from Morgana, from Edwin, from Cornelius Sigan and from every other sorcerer that came to destroy Camelot.
"The walls have ears and news flies fast," Arthur steeples his fingers together, expression grim. Merlin thinks back to the advisors changing their minds about defeating the Djinn. Rather, they had wanted to imprison and interrogate it.
Milda seems to be getting the hint. Dismay creeps in the lines of her face. "I d-didn't think, Sire. I should have known."
Arthur waves away the implied apology. "I will take my most trusted knights with me and hunt for this creature myself."
The village woman's relief shines in the unshed tears in her eyes. "You'll help us? O-Oh, thank you, Sire! Thank you!"
Arthur smiles. "I will do whatever I can to give your people justice and protect them from this creature." Merlin notices how Arthur does not vow to find the missing people alive. They both know it is a promise he cannot keep.
"Tell us more about what we're going to be dealing with," Merlin prompts and settles in for the long haul.
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Before preparing for the journey ahead, Merlin goes to the physician's chambers. If there is anyone else with more information, it will be Gaius. And Merlin will like to be as informed as possible.
"A Djinn or a genie grants wishes," Gaius says, face solemn as he hands Merlin an open book. "There are surprisingly few accounts about it but the one thing they have in common is this: when a Djinn passes by, death and catastrophe follows."
Merlin sighs. He doesn't want to trivialize it, he really doesn't. The creatures he battled with in the past, however, went along the same lines. Death and catastrophe, famine and war, plague and darkness . . . Why can't it be rainbows and sweet pastries?
Merlin shakes the thought of food away from his mind because he's starting to get hungry. He skims the brief passage about Djinn. There is no portrait of the creature but Milda has given them a detailed description so Merlin will know the Djinn when it shows. "How do we deal with it? Not necessarily kill but maybe imprison?"
"It's already imprisoned," Gaius informs him, pointing at the part of the text where it is mentioned.
Merlin blinks. "What?"
The warlock then finds out the Djinn lives in a lamp – an oil lamp, no less. Can it turn itself into the size of rats that it can live somewhere as small as a lamp? Did someone wish it to live in an oil lamp? Merlin dares not to ask these questions lest he be given that 'I am judging you but I'm too wise and old to voice it out' eyebrow look by Gaius.
"Milda didn't mention any lamps. She described the Djinn as an actual person, with a normal-sized body and all that. Can it get out of the lamp then?"
Gaius frowns, contemplating. "Maybe it has hidden its home then. The text says the Djinn cannot wander far from its lamp. Wherever the lamp goes, the Djinn follows."
"So . . ." A plan forms in Merlin's mind. "We find the lamp, we contain the Djinn and it doesn't hurt anyone else?"
"I suppose that would work." Gaius gives him an approving glance. "Just keep the lamp in a safe cold place. The Djinn is summoned when the lamp is rubbed and given warmth –"
"Rubbed? What?" Merlin boggles.
Gaius speaks over him. "Prevent that from happening and the Djinn would be contained inside its lamp."
"Sounds . . . suspiciously simple." As it always is at the start.
Gaius gives him a look. "Pray that it stays that way, my boy."
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All morning, Merlin packs the king's clothes, equipment, and food. Said food being plenty enough to feed seven people on a two-day trip. Merlin's arms are numbed from carrying all of them and of course, Arthur insists that Merlin has to do all the tasks all by himself. They cannot risk the other servants knowing the true purpose of their expedition. They cannot let the servants gossip. For all intents and purposes, the king is going on his monthly hunt, bringing his knights as protection and Merlin as the slave who does all the menial (but important) stuff.
But of course, Merlin cheats. And no, he does not use magic. By cheating, he means that he recruits Gwen. Gwen is all too happy to help, even though, technically, she is no longer a servant. Her brother is a knight and the king clearly favors her, maybe even planning to court her. Although, now that Merlin thinks about it, he rarely sees Arthur and Gwen together in the past weeks . . .
Still, that does not prevent Merlin from complaining at Arthur's back and to his face. Quite loudly and every hour. Arthur grins gleefully at the start but eventually, the insults and complaints start to grate on his ears. He cuffs Merlin over the head five times in the span of a day.
Milda had already went ahead to her village, hopeful of the king's help. She had sobbed in respite, taking both Arthur and Merlin in a tight embrace before she left. Arthur had awkwardly patted her back and Merlin had smoothly reciprocated her hug.
At last, after several hours, they are ready to follow her.
Lancelot expertly saddles his horse, tying the straps securely around the steed's belly. Merlin sidles beside him and helps.
"Do you think we could defeat it, this wish-granting being?" the knight asks, voice low and focus still on the saddle. "If it can grant any wish, even one with the involvement of life and death, then it is extremely powerful. Maybe even more powerful than you."
"From Milda's stories, I say this Djinn isn't malicious at all," Merlin whispers, finally being able to confide to someone. "It has done nothing but grant wishes. Milda says it doesn't seem to perform any magic unless it's for the fulfillment of a wish."
Milda did not speak of the Djinn's personality at all, no matter how Merlin probed, only of its deeds. The Djinn had no will of its own, only a slave to any wishers. Unless the wisher asks a question, it speaks only a few words: "What is it that you desire?" and "Your wish is my command." These are said as if a script in a play.
Lancelot's brows furrow in thought. "You think the Djinn is just an instrument? That someone wants these people gone?"
Merlin nods, finishing the straps with a flourish. "Yes." He turns to Lancelot. "I'm planning to talk to some of the villagers. If we can find out what or who these missing people have in common, then maybe we can find the culprit." Now, if only he could say this to Arthur in a way that doesn't sound like he's defending magic . . .
"And what of the Djinn?"
Merlin grimaces. "It's still too dangerous to let it walk about. We'll probably need to lock it up in the vaults." For Merlin, no fault lies with the Djinn. It's just doing what its nature is telling it to do, Merlin thinks, since it lacks the will to think for itself. The warlock does not want any bloodshed in this one, especially since it appears to be unnecessary.
Of course, if the Djinn becomes a threat to Arthur and the knights, Merlin did not hesitate before and he will not hesitate now. The warlock will do what needs to be done.
Lancelot, reading his thoughts, claps him on the back. "You're a good man, Merlin," he praises with wonder, looking at Merlin with fondness.
Merlin turns around to hide the pleased blush spreading to his cheeks. It isn't the first time Lancelot has said it and Merlin doubts it will be the last. The knight is the kind of man who sees good in any person and any situation. Still, Merlin could not help but be delighted and a bit ashamed. Part of him knows he does not deserve such compliment.
"I'm glad you think so, my Lord," he replies cheekily.
Lancelot chuckles and Merlin approaches Gwaine to help load the supplies on a mare.
Gwain grunts, lifting the heavy equipment from the ground and placing it on the horse's back. Merlin wraps a rope around bags, tightens it, and starts tying.
"So . . . a wish-granting sorcerer," Gwaine starts, grinning. "Think I could wish for an endless supply of ale before we defeat them?"
Merlin snorts. "You'll be drunk all the time and Arthur will probably strip your knighthood before winter starts."
"Ye of so little faith," Gwaine tuts. He checks the daggers on their sheaths, making sure they easily slide out in case of emergencies. "I think I can discipline myself, mate."
"Can you now?" Merlin is amused and shows it. He tightens the knots and ensures no bags are loose. "And tell me, how many times has Arthur forbidden you from going into the tavern?"
Gwaine frowns. He remembers the unfair prohibitions and just because he came to training drunk once. Arthur never lets up. Well, in the queeness' defense, Gwaine had been so utterly intoxicated he nearly maimed poor Perceival. "Seven times," he answers.
"And how many of those did you follow instead of discretely sneaking inside The Rising Sun in disguise?" Merlin gives him a teasing smile because they both know the answer.
Gwaine stills. Then, he says, "I believe you have a point, Merlin."
"If you girls are done chatting." Arthur's sarcastic drawl filters in their conversation. "Then, I believe we have a village to save and a sorcerer to catch."
"Don't we always?" Elyan mutters. Leon stifles a smile but Perceival has no such compunction.
"Haha." Arthur elegantly mounts his own professionally-tamed steed. "I'm sure if we peacefully talk to these evil magic-users, they'll respectfully cease their schemes so we could rest for a few weeks."
Merlin expertly ignores the sliver of pain that stabs his chest. Lancelot subtly shoots him a worried look and Merlin shakes his head in response. Instead of focusing on the king's words, the warlock deftly plucks an apple from their supplies. He has forgotten to eat breakfast and if Arthur plans to scold him for eating too early in their journey, he could do so in front of Merlin's apple-filled cheeks.
Arthur says nothing, however, just stares at Merlin with wide eyes like he could not believe such an insolent thing existed. Merlin grins then continues to chew as obnoxiously as he can.
"Oi, oi, mate. Stop making love to the apple. It's awkward for all of us," Gwaine pipes up.
Arthur throws his head back and laughs like a loon. The knights are not far behind. Merlin glares at Gwaine who gives him an unrepentant grin. It's probably revenge for the servant's teasing earlier.
Later, Merlin would finish the apple and throw the core at Gwaine who deserves no less. It would hit the knight right between the eyes and would startle another bout of laughter from their companions.
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In the end, they do not reach the village. They find the lamp a three-hour's ride away from it.
Well, they find Djinn. Or, more specifically, the Djinn finds them.
"What is it that you desire?" a monotonous voice says, echoing in the darkness of the night.
The reaction is instantaneous. Arthur and the knights pick up their weapons, the earlier cheer from the campfire vanishing without a trace. Merlin gets to his feet at the same time as the knights, readying his magic.
"Djinn," Arthur calls, sword pointed at the creature.
The Djinn is exactly how Milda described it.
Its cheeks are still puffed with the fading remnants of baby fat, looking no older than seventeen summers. Its eyes are bright periwinkle blues, flecks of silver glinting even in the dark. A mop of blue – blue—hair sits atop a round beardless face, tanned skin turning golden in the light of the campfire. The lobes of its ears and the bottom of its lips are adorned with metal rings that pierced skin.
What is perhaps the weirdest are its clothes. A dark blue vest inadequately covers its torso, top and bottom two buttons undone to show off lean muscles and a bandaged chest. Loose white trousers, one that might be more fit for nightwear, hung around its skinny frame. The shoes are made of tanned leather, with the tips curling upwards like the curl of a jester's hat.
The Djinn stares unimpressed at them while they all brandish their swords. "What is it you desire?" it repeats.
"I desire your head on a platter," Arthur challenges, clearly not expecting anything.
"Your wish is my command," the Djinn answers in the same emotionless voice.
They all take a step back in horror when, in the blink of an eye, the Djinn disappears. In its place is a head with blue hair on a shining silver platter. The bottom edges of the head are bleeding red, bits of raw skin and muscle peeking underneath the circle of its neck. The flickering light of the fire emphasizes the sight in a more grisly manner.
The blue eyes look bored of all things. The head opens its mouth and inquires, "What is it you desire?" Blood trickles down its mouth, splattering over and tainting the tray as it speaks.
"It's still alive?" Elyan blurts in shock, looking slightly sick.
"I desire that you return back to your previous form," Lancelot speaks, evidently perturbed to be talking to a detached head. By the lack of protest from the other knights, so are they.
"Your wish is my command."
Another blink and the Djinn's head attaches itself to a body. It stands in the exact same position it did before. The platter is gone and the Djinn appears hale.
Well, if the Djinn does not have a problem fulfilling Arthur's gruesome wish, maybe . . . "Djinn, I wish you to lead us to your lamp," Merlin says before Arthur gets the bright idea of trying to fight the creature.
Merlin has a strong feeling any physical attacks against it would be futile.
Arthur sends Merlin a surprise look. Merlin has told them all about the lamp and how important it is to the Djinn. Perhaps it is one wish the Djinn would refuse to fulfill.
"Your wish is my command." Apparently not as it turns on his heel and start walking, presumably in the direction of its most valuable possession. The servant gives the king a smug look.
Merlin resolutely goes to follow. Arthur grabs his arm before he could go another step.
"It may be leading us to a trap," the king warns.
Merlin resists the urge to roll his eyes. Arthur knows that the Djinn could do no such thing without anyone wishing it. "And we have five knights at our disposal." And a powerful warlock, Merlin adds in his head. "I'm sure we can handle anything it throws us."
Arthur glances at his knights, silently asking for their opinion. They talk amongst themselves, quickly forming a plan. Merlin taps a foot on the ground, showing his impatience. He glances at the forest, hoping that the Djinn has not walked far.
It hasn't. It's leaning against a tree, arms crossed. Its eyes are studying its green-painted nails, removing the dirt under them.
"We cannot trust anything magical, Sire." Merlin hears Leon point out. Then, they lower their voices into whispers not even Merlin could hear.
The Djinn rolls its eyes as if Arthur and his knights are the most unreasonable beings it has ever encountered. It murmurs something under its breath, head bobbing mockingly. Merlin's eyes widen, staring at the evident display of emotion. The warlock made a mistake; the Djinn has a will and a personality of a tween to boot.
The Djinn sees Merlin gaping. It instantly straightens, adopting its previous nonchalant expression. But the damage has been done.
"Arthur," Merlin hisses. This knowledge has changed everything.
"Alright." The circle of knights loosens, signaling the end of their discussion. "Elyan and Perceival will stay here to guard our supplies. The rest, with me."
"Wait, Arthur –"
"What now, Merlin?" The king walks decisively towards the Djinn, followed by Gwaine, Leon, and Lancelot. Leon hands a lit torch to Merlin who accepts absentmindedly.
The Djinn starts trudging in the forest once more, movements graceful, feet barely making a dent on the soil.
Merlin jogs to catch up to Arthur. "The Djinn, it's – it has feelings." The king glances at him with incredulousness. "I saw! We, we need to be careful –"
"Now, you believe we're going to be ambushed." Arthur adjust his grip on his sword, the corner of his lips tilted up. "Don't worry your little head over it, Merlin. We have a plan. It doesn't matter if the Djinn has . . . feelings."
Merlin believes said plan involves charging forward and hoping if they keep thrusting, they'll eventually stab the creature. He is not reassured. Lancelot shoots him a reassuring smile, and Gwaine, a cocky one. Merlin's mind is unchanged.
The warlock decides to keep an eye on things for now. His eyes burn the creature's back. One wrong move from the Djinn . . .
The Djinn has done nothing to earn Merlin's distrust so far. Actually, they still aren't sure if Djinn is responsible for the disappearances. Although, with Merlin's experience with sorcerers in the past few years, he doubts that the Djinn is entirely uninvolved. The only proof they have is that . . . the Djinn uses magic and 'magic is the source of all evil'. Of course, this is one thought Merlin will not voice out for he might be accused of defending magic.
"Do you think it's a woman or a man?" Gwaine's inappropriate question disperses the tension in the air.
"I think you should shut up right now, Sir Gwaine." Arthur glowers. "This is not a time for jokes."
"It's not a joke," Gwaine insists, although he does only with Merlin within earshot.
It is a viable question, seeing as the Djinn's face is properly androgynous and its voice is low enough for a man's and high enough for a woman's. The bindings around its chest could either be hiding assets or just simply something that should go with the attire.
The servant grin despite himself. "Would you flirt with it if it's a woman?"
"Who says I won't even if it's otherwise?" Gwaine asks back, winking.
And what. The servant stares wide-eyed at the knight. Why is Merlin just finding out about this? Gwaine is one of his closest friend and he has known the knight for years. The servant opens his mouth to ask, to clarify or confirm, he knows not.
Then, the Djinn stops beside a tall tree with a large trunk. All of them freeze. The knight tighten their grip upon their swords. Merlin's eyes darts around, searching for any kind of threat.
The Djinn lifts its head and points up. Cautiously, the knights follow the direction of its gaze. Merlin keeps his stare fixed on the Djinn.
"That's high up." Leon states, surprised. "How did it even get up there?"
The answer comes from the Djinn, startling them all. They had thought the Djinn would not speak anything else. "A group of crows carried it up," it replies like it cannot care less.
"Are we even sure that's the lamp?" There's a hint of whine in Arthur's tone. Merlin so wants to point it out.
"It is glowing. And I can see the handle and the lip," Lancelot offers the same time the Djinn confirms, "It is."
Gwaine releases an impressed whistle. "Well, lads, who's going to be the one to fetch it?"
Merlin is so busy having a staring contest with the Djinn that he doesn't register the silence for several seconds. When he does, he whips his head around, scared that the knights and Arthur has gotten into trouble without him noticing.
What meets the servant are two apologetic smiles from Leon and Lancelot and two roguish grins from Arthur and Gwaine. It takes Merlin a moment to recall their previous discussion. Since Arthur and the others seems to be watching the Djinn now, he feels safe to look up.
The tree seems to go up miles and miles, branches thick and aplenty. The leaves are unseen in the dark and its top seems to disappear into the night sky. And, almost two stories high, a crow's nest is tucked on one of the branches. In it, Merlin spies a glint of gold, glowing in the moonlight as Lancelot mentioned.
He turns to the Djinn. "I desire that your lamp be here down on the ground."
The Djinn promptly respond, "I cannot grant any wish that involves my lamp."
Of course. Merlin glares at Djinn, wondering if it's lying so it could watch the servant suffer. The Djinn blankly stares back, giving away nothing.
"Well, at least we know it has a limitation," Leon remarks. "It couldn't grant all wishes."
Not that that helps Merlin now. He lets out groan. "Why me?"
"You're the servant," Arthur gleefully points out. "That's kind of why we pay you, Merlin," he mock-whispers.
Lancelot steps forward. "I could –"
Immediately, guilt assaults Merlin. Drat it, Lancelot. "No, no, I'll do it."
"—hold the torch for you," the knight finishes, sheepish.
Merlin quite petulantly hands the torch to Lancelot. He huffs, glancing up again. Then, for safety measure, he wishes, "Djinn, I desire for you to go back into your lamp."
The Djinn does so by floating slowly upwards. When it is the height of the lamp, it blinks out of existence. The knights and Merlin openly gape for several seconds.
"Why'd you do that for?" Arthur demands, sounding irate. "Now we can't keep an eye on it."
Merlin assesses the tree, searching for any kind of handhold. "I didn't want you lot getting into trouble while I'm not here," he replies without missing a beat.
He grabs one of the lowest branches and hauls himself up. He has done this before in Ealdor and he will do it again. Climbing trees is easy, Merlin reassures himself.
He climbs on a higher branch and sits precariously on top of the thickest portion. He leans back too far and starts falling. Flailing his arms in helplessness, he yelps in panic. Arthur and the knights surge forward to try and catch him. Luckily, his floundering leads him into grasping a part of the trunk. He almost hugs the tree in relief. His descent halts and everyone breathes a sigh of relief.
"It seems you will be taking the trouble with you, mate," Gwaine says before letting out an exasperated exhale.
The servant sticks his tongue out in reply. Then, Merlin realizes he's an utter moron. "Djinn!"
Nothing happens for almost a minute. Arthur and the knights shoots Merlin confusing glances.
Then, the Djinn pops out next to Merlin with a thunderous crack, making everyone jump. Arthur and the knights instinctively raise their weapons. Merlin starts falling again and by the gods, this is going to hurt.
Then, the Djinn's arm shoots out and grabs a fistful of the servant's shirt. Merlin gets pulled none-too-gently back to his balanced sitting position. A flash of amusement flitters over the Djinn's face before a blank mask falls over his expression once more.
"Oh, that's funny, is it?" Merlin's heartbeat still pounds too loudly in his ears. "I could've broken my neck!" Well, his magic will probably save him. But Arthur is right there and his life will be extended for only a few more days.
Arthur rolls his eyes, lowering his sword. "No one's laughing, Merlin." The king glares at the cause of their alarm.
"I wasn't talking to you!" Merlin shouts. He turns to Djinn who sits casually upon the branch, the wood not even creaking with the weight of two person on it. "Um, thanks," Merlin grudgingly says because the Djinn did just save him even though it was the cause of everything.
The Djinn blinks and asks, "What is it you desire?"
"Oh, right. I wish that I'm sitting on the branch where the crow's nest is. Safely, that is," Merlin adds before the Djinn could get any ideas. He speaks loud enough for the others below to hear. It will not do for them to worry.
The Djinn nods. "Your wish is my command."
Merlin finds himself higher up in the tree the next instant. The wind blows cold and hard at this height. He shivers, wrapping his jacket tighter over his form. The Djinn is nowhere to be found and Merlin hopes it just went back inside the lamp. It's hard to protect Arthur when the warlock is two stories above ground.
Merlin looks down and gulps. Arthur and the knights are not really that far away but the light of the lone torch makes it seem like they are. Everywhere else is a pit darkness.
The servant faces forward, deciding to focus on his mission. An arm's length away is the nest, although the lamp is not the only one cradled in its depths. Five featherless chicks and their mother sleep, snuggling against the golden light the lamp is emitting.
Ah. Warmth. They're probably why the Djinn is being continuously summoned.
The oil lamp itself does not look like a normal lamp. Made of gold and encrusted with rubies and sapphires, it certainly looks expensive. Merlin carefully extracts the chicks from it, making sure not to wake them.
The servant runs his fingers over the jewel adornments, feeling hum of magic vibrating beneath his hands. The oil lamp is light and, when Merlin opens the lid, it is empty of anything.
"How does a Djinn live here?" Merlin asks himself, awfully curious. There is nothing inside, not even a speck of dust. "Damn, I really want to know."
He tilts the lamp sideways and upwards. The warlock sees no runes that could be the cause of any spellwork. On the other hand, Merlin knows little of magical runes to recognize them. He will have to consult Gaius.
"Stop dawdling, Merlin!" The servant hears the king shouts. "Come back down!"
Merlin rolls his eyes and opens his mouth to give a sarcastic remark. But the ingenuity of his reply will never be discovered because Arthur's bellow has woken the chicks' mother.
And she is not amused at the human who is too close to her nest.
The crow squawks, wings fluttering. The chicks cry in alarm. Merlin turns back to the nest in surprise. He turns back just in time to see an angry beak coming right for his eyes.
Merlin shields his face in time and his arms bear the brunt of the attack. The bird pecks unmercifully at his clothes and any skin she could reach.
"Gah! No, wait, I'm sorry!" Merlin tries to reason with the crow. He wiggles away from his attacker, unmindful of his precarious position. All that matters is getting away.
It does not take long for him to lose his balance for the third time that night.
"Merlin!" The knights scream.
The warlock panics and desperately calls on his magic. Merlin smells lightning in the air, tickling his nose. Before he could utter a spell, however, a hazy feeling settles over him, stealing his thoughts and reason. Blacks spots dances over his vision and everything seems to be getting bigger and farther. His skin feels nothing, not even the air sharply whistling around him, and then, his hearing goes out too.
A saccharine fragrance explodes in the air and that is the last thing he registers before darkness takes him.
"Really? Out of all . . ." A sigh echoes in the void. "Your wish is my command."
Merlin falls but never reaches the ground.
❤•°o.O`•.¸¸.•´´¯`••.¸¸.•´´¯`•´ ◇ⓛⓞⓥⓔ◇ `•.¸¸.•´´¯`••.¸¸.•´´¯`•´O.o°•❤
A/N:
So, what to expect from this story:
This will be very fantastical. Yes, lots of magic and magical realism. This is mainly Merlin-centric.
On the issue of pairing, I've decided to go with Merlin/Arthur BUT this is will be extremely slowburn and you will not see even hints of it in the next several chapters. Nonetheless, this will contain a lot of bromance and will only be slightly slashier than in the show.
Kindly point out any glaring errors. Constructive criticisms are always welcome.
Have an awesome day!
~ Vividpast