This would have gone up last night, but my internet was acting up. So, here's a new chapter a few hours later than I wanted.
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Bye!
Like most problems in Merlin's life, it started with a spell. Since magic had been restored to Camelot, and he had been promoted to Court Sorcerer, Merlin had had free reign on all magical related matters that arose around the kingdom. Which (when he, Arthur, and the knights weren't dealing with the occasional creature or corrupt magic practitioner) usually consisted of Merlin sorting through all the items he and Arthur managed to find in the vaults.
Merlin found the books the most fascinating. Learning new spells, and in the comforts of an actual lab instead of hidden way in his tiny bedroom, soon became his favorite part of being appointed Court Sorcerer. He had set up a little target area in the corner, having dressed up one of Arthur's wooden sparring dummies as an irate Arthur (it'd been a joke between Gwaine and Merlin, and Arthur, unsurprisingly, didn't find it nearly as funny), and would throw low powered spells at it until he mastered each one.
Today, Gwaine decided to pay Merlin a visit, both slowly working their way through what happened between them after Merlin's capture and mental torture. He still wouldn't tell his friends what had happened to him, still unable to shake some of the images the sorcerer had made him see, but he's getting better, and he doesn't feel like being alone so much anymore.
"What does Qu…?"
"No, no, no, no," Merlin said quickly, rushing across the room, closing the book before Gwaine could read the word. "I'm sorry," he apologized quickly, rubbing the back of his neck, "but any of these spells could easily blow this entire castle up with just the wrong order of words. You need to be careful."
"Sorry," Gwaine replied subtly moving away from the book. He headed towards a shelf full of potion ingredients, poking one of the jars with his index finger, his nose crinkled a little at the sight of the object floating inside. "Is it ever eerie when you're on your own?"
"Sometimes," Merlin admitted picking up the book Gwaine tried to read, carrying it over to his desk. "It's not so bad," he shrugged, putting the book down, turning to face Gwaine. "Plus, compared to some of the stuff we've faced, a few floating things aren't going to make me quiver in my boots."
"Point," Gwaine stated with a small tilt of his head. He faced away from the shelf, meeting Merlin's eyes. "Are you working on any spells now?"
"I've been attempting this one smell," Merlin answered with a small shrug, "but I keep conjuring rabbits for some reason."
"Rabbits?" Gwaine raised his eyebrows, glancing around the lab. "I don't see any rabbits."
"I couldn't very well let them run around here. Arthur'd have them rounded up and put in stew. I gave them to the local children. They seemed very happy to have new pets."
Gwaine smiled fondly at Merlin, shaking his head. He almost pointed out that the children's parents could very well use the rabbits for food, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it. So, instead, he said, "Well, try it again."
"The spell? I don't know." Merlin glanced at a red, felt book sitting on a table across the room, an uncertain look on his face. "It could backfire."
"Or it might work." Gwaine gestured to the book. He found Merlin's magic fascinating and enjoyed watching the younger man construct something from absolutely nothing. "Go on."
Merlin hesitated a few more seconds before nodding and crossing the room. He grabbed the book, carefully flipping through the pages until he found the correct spell, but he didn't say it right away.
"Just so you know, if I kill us this is your fault," Merlin stated meeting Gwaine's eyes. "Furthermore, if I conjure more rabbits we are not to tell Arthur, and instead we set the poor creatures free and allow them to live out the rest of their lives in the forest where they belong."
"Technically, mate, they'd belong here because you conjured them," Gwaine teased, grinning when Merlin glared at him, but before the younger man could open his mouth, the knight quickly added, "Alright, alright, I promise to take full responsibility in the event of our deaths, and will help you hide your woodland friends if you manage to conjure them."
"That is all I ask."
The spell wasn't very complicated, but Merlin, for some reason, could not make it work. He knew he said the words right, he'd been studying magic long enough to know when he messed up a pronunciation. Unless the spell actually was just meant to conjure rabbits, but that's a bit stupid. Unless it's for poor wizards who can't exactly afford to go to the market for supplies and lacked the skills to hunt.
But if that's the case then why did the spell roughly translate to 'switch.' Was he switching one thing for a rabbit, and if that were the case why hadn't anything gone missing? He just did not understand.
"Alright, here goes," Merlin said and glanced down at the spell again. He silently read the words twice, just in case he had been making a mistake without realizing, and then cast the spell. For a few seconds nothing happened, but suddenly the candles flickered twice before shooting a blast of bright, sapphire blue flames into the air.
"Has that happened before?" Gwaine asked in a hushed voice.
"No," Merlin answered softly, shaking his head. He put his book down, slowly moving towards one of the candles; very much aware of Gwaine doing the same, but they both stopped when the flames turned an emerald green.
"Maybe we should step away," Gwaine suggested meeting Merlin's eyes. He nodded in agreement, and both men took a half a step back just as the flames turned a brilliant, ruby red. Merlin shielded his eyes against the blinding light, watching in awe as the flames flickered and then went out, pitching the room into darkness.
"Huh, fancy light show," Gwaine commented quietly, lowering his hand from his face.
"Yeah." Merlin nodded, stepping towards the candle, intending to light it again, but he jerked back when the candle suddenly burst to life and a jet of golden flame flew right at him and Gwaine, knocking both men into opposite walls.
Merlin sat up a few moments later, rubbing the back of his aching head, freezing when he felt more hair than he's used to. Slowly, he lets his hand trail down his head, his fingers catching on the edge of a necklace; something Merlin has never worn outside of a spell or enchantment.
"Well, that was a hell of a show, mate," a familiar voice said from across the room, and Merlin felt his stomach drop. "Wait…" the voice trailed off, and Merlin watched as his body stood up, a confused look on his face.
"I think I know what the spell's supposed to do," Merlin said in Gwaine's voice, glancing down at the knight's body. This was going to be hard to explain to Arthur.