Chapter Summary: "Any question addressed to me or any question that addresses no one specifically, I'm compelled to answer. The keywords are: 'wish', 'hope', 'desire', 'want', 'need' or any synonymous words. Whatever they follow, I fulfill."
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Chapter II: Itty Bitty Living Space
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The bed beneath Merlin is definitely made of clouds, the warlock thinks with contented sigh. Even the softest hay could not compare. He runs his hands over the fabric of the sheets; they're not quite silk but they are fluffy and soft. He snuggles deeper into the pillows, breathing in its fragrant smell. Gods, the cushions emitted the scent of sweet buns and sugary treats.
Has he fallen asleep on Arthur's bed again? He hopes the prat takes his time in the Council. Merlin's tiredness if Arthur's fault anyway; how could he expect one servant to finish chores that would take two? That Merlin oftentimes uses magic to do them is beside the point.
"I would appreciate it if you stop molesting my bed," a voice tears Merlin out of his musings.
Merlin's eyes fly open in alarm. That isn't Arthur. He thrashes, preparing his magic to protect himself from the intruder because who else would be at the king's chamber? Unfortunately, the covers tangles over one of Merlin's arms and legs, cutting any attempt to get up short. Instead, his body rolls over and right out of said bed. He lands on the carpeted floor, the impact stealing the breath in his lungs.
The voice lets out a shrill boisterous laugh. "Oh my god, dude, are you always this clumsy?"
Merlin roughly untangles the sheets from himself and quickly gets to his feet. The owner of the voice, is, of course, the Djinn. However, gone is its emotionless façade, replaced by untethered amusement at Merlin's ungainliness. Its eyes creases in mirth, perfectly white teeth showing.
The warlock forgets to feel offended in the face of such drastic change. "You do have emotions."
At that, the Djinn immediately sobers up. It straightens, smile fading from its face as it rolls its eyes. "Yes, just like any sentient being."
"But before, you pretended to be . . . to have no will," Merlin points out.
The Djinn scratches its cheek. "I find that people are more unlikely to take advantage if they think I simply don't care."
"Take advantage? Isn't that . . . " Merlin trails off as his gaze strays away from the Djinn and takes in the rest of the room. His jaw drops open. "Where have you brought me?"
The Djinn snorts. "The real question is: where have you brought yourself?" It looks around, a small smile upon its lips. "Welcome to my humble abode." It makes a sweeping gesture at everything.
If there is one thing to describe the place, however, it will not be 'humble'. The walls are made of solid gold, shining to an impossible degree. Various knickknacks fills the spacious room, most of which Merlin fail to recognize or fail to make sense of. An almost flat rectangular article is glued to the wall, looking to be made of black glass. Flags the color of rainbows hangs in the ceiling. A high shelf bursting with books takes up one of the four walls of the chambers. A large bed, which Merlin had previously been lying on, has been painted with designs of stars of the night. The colors are vivid and the designs detailed, if not a little bit weird. Everything else, Merlin couldn't even begin to describe.
Two more doors lead to two more rooms but they're closed so Merlin couldn't begin to know what they contain.
"You live here?" Merlin looks at everything with wonder.
"This is my room," the Djinn says dryly. It sighs then. "I suppose I'll have to give you the grand tour."
Realization hit Merlin like a ton of the castle's bricks. "Are we . . . Am I inside the lamp?" His voice grows a pitch higher at the end. He looks back down on himself. Did he become small? Then, a more urgent thought niggles at him. "What about the others? Arthur, Lancelot, Gwaine and Leon? Where are they?"
"You are inside my lamp as you have wished," the Djinn drawls patronizingly. "Your friends are outside of it. Hence, they are not here. They're still in the forest where we left them."
Oh, good. Those troublemakers are safe. Then, Merlin frowns, catching on something. "But . . . I didn't wish for anything."
"'How does a Djinn live here?'" the Djinn repeats, making a mockery of Merlin's accent. Merlin feels offended. "'Damn, I really want to know.' Were those not your exact words?"
"That – That was considered a wish?"
"Any question addressed to me or any question that addresses no one specifically, I'm compelled to answer," the Djinn replies, lifting its index finger. He raises another digit and starts counting off, "The keywords are: 'wish', 'hope', 'desire', 'want', 'need' or any synonymous words. Whatever they follow, I fulfill."
"But." The warlock frowns, recalling his previous experience and Milda's stories. "You granted every wish almost instantaneously. That one took you minutes."
"Time and space flow differently in here," was the Djinn's answer. "It takes a while for wishes to reach me when I'm inside the lamp. It's sort of like a TARDIS." At Merlin's blank look, the Djinn elaborates, "You know, bigger on the inside, time-whimey thingy."
The elaboration does not help the warlock at all. "Timey-whimey what?"
The Djinn nods. "If there's one thing I don't understand, it's the mechanics of this whole 'imprisoned in a lamp thing'." It waves its hands in an all-encompassing motion. "It would be Victorian era when I go in but when I go back out, it'll be the time of space explorations of new worlds and new civilizations, boldly going where no man has gone before." The Djinn halts. "Wait, I think that one was a tv show."
An ache starts on the spot between Merlin's eyes. What is the Djinn talking about? "I hope you make sense sometime soon," he mutters a bit snappishly.
"Your wish is my command."
And the ache bursts into full-blown agony. Merlin gasps, images flashing before his mind like . . . like a reel in a movie. TARDIS, Time and Relative Dimension in Space. A blue phone box housing an alien creature with two hearts. It's bigger on the inside because the space there is in another dimension, another world, another reality. It's fiction, a play, a television show. A television, something that shows moving paintings with bright colors. It's the black rectangular article in the Djinn's room. The Victorian era has colorful gowns swinging about, propriety and inauthenticity ruling over the lives of the elite and peasants. No elbows on the table, eat gently and without a sound, dress as your status dictates. Dukes, lords, barons, servants, pianos, poetry books. Space. Spaceships, captains, first officers, red shirts, aliens, another play and –
New knowledge fills Merlin's head, and so much, too much, he can't –
"Stop!" He cries out, irises burning with tears. "Please stop!" He grips his hair, almost pulling them out of their roots. "I wish it'll stop."
"Oh thank God," a voice muffled by the nonsense in Merlin's head says in relief. "Your wish is my command."
Instantly, the assault ceases. Merlin's knees buckle under him and he drops to the carpeted floor. The images fades away from behind his eyelids and so does much of the knowledge he gained. They don't completely disappear and Merlin knows things people of his time would think insane. Oh gods, Merlin has seen the very distant future. Or maybe it's another reality, one so different from his own? Those television shows are certainly fond of such theories . . .
But his wish has been granted. The Djinn's earlier words makes sense to him now; the space inside in the lamp is in a different dimension altogether and the time inside it is not linear, unlike the one outside of it.
The black spots disappears from his vision and Merlin finally has a good look of the room again.
It's, well, quite different from before. The displays have been the toppled, the cabinets broken in halves, clothes strewn everywhere, the television cracked in several pieces and the bed flipped upside down. Merlin looks down on his hands and gulps. While he knows his magic tends to lash out with his emotions, he has never accidentally created a chaos of such caliber.
"Ah . . . a little help?"
Merlin's head snaps up and he remembers that something is missing in the room. Namely, the Djinn itself.
"Where are you?" Merlin gets to his feet, eyes darting around.
"Up, up."
Merlin cranes his head upwards and lets out a surprise gasp. The Djinn is pinned to the ceiling, irritation marring its features. It doesn't seem to be the least bit bothered by the long pole piercing its abdomen.
Merlin lifts his hand and, with a gesture, pulls the pole out. The Djinn grunts but does not otherwise react. The warlock slowly lowers the Djinn to the ground and as soon as both of its feet are settled flatly on the floor, he immediately checks it over.
"You're not bleeding," Merlin blurts in wonder, staring at the hole on the Djinn's middle. He watches as the wound seamlessly closes up and disappears like it never existed.
The Djinn shrugs. "I'm a Djinn," it says as if that is explanation enough. Merlin makes a face. The servant finds a finger poking his chest the next moment. "And you. I told you 'hope' is one of my keywords. And what did you do?" The Djinn glances around, clearly upset. "You went ahead and wished and ruined my room!"
Merlin winces. "I'm sorry. I didn't – It's my magic –"
"I know it's your bloody magic!" The Djinn shouts. "Do you even líhtinge? Are you one of those who are too proud to do it?"
"Líhtinge – what's that?" Merlin perks up at the magical word.
The Djinn frowns, tirade halting. "It's the regular release of magic, usually in the form of performing harmless tricks."
Merlin blinks. "Why would someone do that?"
"So stuff like this." The Djinn gestures empathically at the mess that is its chambers. "Doesn't happen when they're emotionally compromised or sick. How could you not know that?"
Merlin's features alight with comprehension. "That's interesting." The warlock is about to ask more but then remembers he's not exactly talking to a friend.
He backs away from the Djinn, eyes narrowing and arms lifting in preparation to use his magic. The Djinn rolls its eyes like Merlin is being a petulant child.
"What now?"
"In the village not far from here – from your lamp, some people went missing," Merlin says, gauging the other's expression. But to Merlin's consternation, the Djinn turns around. "You talked to them last, didn't you?"
The Djinn observes the rainbow-colored flags on the floor, lips pursed in a thin line. "Probably." It bends down and picks up the colorful cloths with their respective poles.
"What did you do with them?" Merlin demands, the threat in his tone clear.
"What I always do," the Djinn replies casually, rearranging the flag displays on a broken nightstand. "Grant their wishes." The Djinn nods to itself and moves on to clear the scattered clothes on the floor.
"And their wish was to disappear?" Merlin's incredulous tone and raised brow speak of his disbelief.
"Their wish was impossible in this world." The pile of shirts in the Djinn's arms is getting bigger. Merlin couldn't even see the Djinn's face anymore. "So I sent them to another reality where they can have what they want."
This time, Merlin's other brow joins the other in his hairline. "What –" The Djinn stuffs the clothes inside the splintered drawer, not even bothering to fold them. "Oh, for the love – Would you pay attention? I wish your room was fixed and everything was back on its proper place!"
The Djinn blinks at him in surprise. "Your wish is my command."
Merlin blinks and the chambers is back to its previous pristine state. Not an article out of place, not a debris on the floor.
The Djinn twirls around, glancing at everything. It whistles. "Wow, thanks for that."
"Now, will you pay attention?" Merlin sighs. "What do you mean you sent them to another world?"
The Djinn rocks on its heels, face a portrait of innocence. "There are some things that are beyond my power. I can't bend another's will, bring someone back from the dead, or change something that has happened in the past," The Djinn ticks off. "However, I can transport them to a world where, hmm, their crush loves them back, their dad is alive, or they didn't do that one embarrassing thing that labeled them as losers."
Merlin processes that for several seconds. "Like . . . multiverse?" He massages his throbbing temples. He remembers such a concept during his episode earlier.
"Exactly." The Djinn beams. "Parallel universes and such."
"And that's where all those villagers went? In other worlds?"
"Yup," the Djinn replies, popping the 'p'.
"Can I wish them back?" Merlin's mind flashes to Milda's grief-stricken face. She will be more than happy to have her son back.
"Sure." The Djinn shrugs. "Recent wishes override previous ones."
Merlin smiles in relief. This will be solved without bloodshed after all. "I –"
Suddenly, the ground beneath their feet shakes and the air warms. Merlin grapples with the bed's headboard for support. The Djinn stays miraculously balanced until the tremors stop.
"Be right back." The Djinn winks. Then, in a more serious tone, it warns, "Don't touch anything."
And it disappears before Merlin could utter a reply.
"What –" Merlin looks around but the Djinn truly has gone.
What in the world is that? It left without a single explanation! Merlin is miffed. He resists the urge to do the opposite of what the Djinn wants and touch each and every paraphernalia in the room.
As if reading his mind, the Djinn appears right in front of him the next moment. Merlin takes an instinctive step back from it, yelping in surprise.
The Djinn looks a little like it has been run over by a wheelbarrow. It stares at Merlin as if the warlock has done the impossible. Merlin instantly notices the major differences on the Djinn's appearance; the ear cuffs and the piercing upon its lower lip are gone, replaced by smooth unblemished skin. Their absence makes the Djinn look vulnerably younger.
"Are you alright?" Merlin cannot help but ask in concern. "What happened?"
"I'm . . . I'm free," The Djinn whispers, voice breaking. When it looks up to Merlin, its eyes are glimmering and a smile threatens break its face in half. "And so are you." It reaches out and taps an index finger upon the warlock's nose.
Merlin sneezes. "What are you –"
A weird sensation grips him, one not unlike falling from a great height. Something pulls at his chest, not unpleasant but not overly comfortable either. His vision fills with blinding white, the Djinn's smile and the Djinn itself fading from sight. Indiscernible voices uttering nonsensical words reverberate around his ears.
". . . use Drýcræftéaca . . ."
"Water, fire, air, earth . . ."
". . . father dropped me . . ."
"You must protect . . ."
". . . Did you just call me a prat?"
". . . library is forbidden . . ."
"Concentrate, boy! Magic is not . . ."
"How did you . . . It takes a lot of training to . . ."
"Come on! Join us! I mean, we want to kill the Pendragons but . . ."
"You resemble your mentor greatly. One would mistake . . ."
"You think I will not smell a traitor right under . . ."
" . . . scry for the cause . . ."
"It wasn't me! I didn't – I would never . . ."
"If you want to save your king, then, you'll bloody . . ."
"Stay. Please."
He gasps but the sound he makes gets lost in the void. His hands – where are his hands, his feet, his whole body? He could not feel them.
"I want him to be safe."
When Merlin comes to, he finds himself standing in the middle of the forest, the sun high up in the sky. He groggily gazes around, eyes squinted against the sudden bright environment.
There are no Djinns or knights in sight.
❤•°o.O`•.¸¸.•´´¯`••.¸¸.•´´¯`•´ ◇ⓛⓞⓥⓔ◇ `•.¸¸.•´´¯`••.¸¸.•´´¯`•´O.o°•❤
A/N:
This was supposed to contain a grand tour of the Djinn's house and some Merlin/Djinn bonding moments. But rereading that, I realized it's not really necessary so I removed those parts and shortened it to this ^_^.
Kindly point out any glaring errors. Constructive criticisms are always welcome.
Have an awesome day!
~ Vividpast