Things That Merlin Isn't Allowed To Do (According to Prince Arthur)
26: Blatantly Use Magic When He's Not Supposed To
They're surrounded. Badly so. There are some twenty bandits with crossbows and swords and then there's Arthur and Merlin. Their horses have fled and Arthur's got a limp in his right leg. Plan A of fighting their way out in one piece has failed. Now, prince tries to think of a plan B.
Arthur musters his courage and picks his best Don't-Make-Me-Angry-You-Fuckers voice. "Leave this place! I'm warning you!"
The bandits laugh mockingly.
Shitshitshit, Arthur thinks, this is really bad because as good a fighter he is, they're completely outnumbered. Against fifteen crossbow bolts, his fighting skill won't really matter. He glances at Merlin, who's got a strange look in his eye, his jaw set stern and his shoulders tense. He's about to do something. Something stupid and something he'd prefer not to have to, but there's hardly any other choice. Arthur steps closer to him, so at least he can protect the servant's front and Arthur's grip of his sword tightens: he won't go down without a fight, and he'll do anything he can to protect Merlin to his last breath.
"You heard him!" Merlin - the idiot - suddenly shouts, steadily, to the prince's shock. "Leave and we'll spare your lives! We have weapons more powerful than yours!"
More bouts of laughter; the bandits are closing, clearly enjoying the situation and they all probably have gruesome slow deaths in mind for all three. The prince's mind works frantically to come up with a plan, at least to get Merlin out of here alive but there's nothing and then Merlin has to act like a complete idiot and stand up against the thugs. He doesn't even have a knife! What chance does he stand?
"Merlin!" Arthur hisses, "What the hell are you doing?" What kind of weapon is the idiot talking about? Between them they have one sword, a dagger and a neckerchief. It's not that impressive. "Are you completely out of your mind?"
"Stand back, I'm saving our backsides," is the muttered reply, and then Merlin does the most absurd thing ever.
"I'm magic!" he cries out, palms open. "Back off!"
"MERLIN," the prince growls. Idiot, idiot, idiot. Posing as a sorcerer won't help things! What's he going to do, stand there hands raised and yell gibberish and hope it scares off the thugs? And what then, when it doesn't work? Is going to pick up a stick and wave it around pretending it's awesome? Merlin is an idiot.
The bandits start looking uncertain now. "Eh, ye don't look like a sorcerer," one of them say, "ye ain't got no powerful look or anythin'."
"Yeah!" agrees the other bandits in chorus. "Let's kill 'em!" With battle-cries, they charge, weapons raised and Arthur takes up battle stance, sword at the ready; risking a glance at Merlin, a short look meant to convey that Even if you're an idiot I might need a servant in the afterlife and you're not that bad, really – and Arthur wants to hold the idiot one last time, maybe confess something but never gets his chance.
Merlin raises his hands and shouts, eyes swirling gold, and the ground opens up like a giant jaw and swallows the bandits. The war-cries turns to screams of pain and shock and then they're gone, the ground sewing itself back together, with a great rumble and shaking. Then there's silence: complete utter silence, the warlock standing there breathing heavily, like he's run a race.
Arthur falls flat on his face. Not deliberately, of course.
"WHAT. THE. HELL. MERLIN!"
The servant glances at the fallen prince, and since the situation is so serious he refrains from telling that Arthur's got lots of mud in his hair and on his armour. The prince continues his rant huffing for air, torn between anger and shock and betrayal.
"I THOUGH YOU WERE GOING TO PRETEND TO BE A BLOODY SORCERER - NOT BE A BLOODY SORCERER FOR REAL, DAMN IT!"
Merlin lowers his hand, staring at the ground ashamed, shoulders slumped. "Yeah. I – sorry."
The prince's managed to draw himself up now, still staring in disbelief at his manservant. At his clumsy, kind, too-trusting-for-his-own-good, loyal manservant. At his manservant who's got magic and apparently is powerful enough to tear up the ground with a couple of words and the wave of a hand. "Why," Arthur gasps, still trying to wrap his head around the thought; "Why did you use magic? And why didn't you tell me earlier?"
The warlock looks defeated, frail and tired and Arthur has a sudden urge to step up to him and wrap his arms around him for support.
"I'm sorry," Merlin says weakly. "I – I was born like this. I've only helped and protected you with my magic, you must know that. And uhm, there's something about destiny as well but it's kind of complicated."
(It's probably best to leave out that part about the dragon until later.)
Arthur's brow creases into a frown. "Born with it? I didn't think that was possible. I've only known sorcerers to learn their powers and then use it to harm, to throw out kingdom into chaos or try to kill me or my father."
"That's wrong!" Merlin says heatedly, taking insult at that remark, his chest stinging with hurt. "Not all sorcerers are evil!"
"Of course I know that, you idiot! You're the perfect example of that. Is that what you think of me, that's I'm some ignorant fool who can't tell left from right? Of course you do! Of course. Of course. Oh, you-you, ugh, I'm going to have put in the stocks for the rest of the week! Do you have absolutely zero sense self-preservation!"
"You're ... all right with it?"
"No, well - yes! To be honest I am but you're just so annoying and you shouldn't play a hero like that, you look like an idiot."
Huffing, the prince turns around and starts marching back to Camelot, and Merlin staggers for a moment in shock before his senses catches up with him and he quickly hurries after the prince. "Arthur! Wait! Aren't you - I mean, what's going to happen to me?" He can't form the words 'Aren't I going to be punished? Will you really hide me from your father?', his tongue stumbling.
"When we're back," Arthur growls, "you're going straight to the stocks. Some sense needs to get knocked into your thick skull. Then you'll tell me everything."
Merlin glances at him. Uncertainly, but not afraid - and Arthur thanks the gods that Merlin doesn't look at him with fear. "Uhm, would it be okay if I used a tiny protection charm to not have to deal with tomato stains? They're horrible. It takes ages to get them out of my clothes."
"No!" Arthur says firmly, looking at him incredulously. "What kind of punishment is it if you cheat?"
"Prat," the warlock mutters, his lips quirking upwards in a grin and out of the corner of his eye he sees Arthur's exhilarated smile too, and then, in the next heartbeat, things seem to be back to normal.
Some things never change.