It was late in the afternoon, many hours after Bayard and his group of men had left the boarders of the city, and Merlin Pendragon was sitting at the table that his uncle had designated as their 'eating table.' Because every proper family in the world needed to have a place settled for where they could eat their meals together. It was probably only Gaius' way of ensuring Merlin was eating all the food that was being put in front of him, but it still warmed Merlin's heart when he saw the cleared off space on that half of the table. Usually, Gaius would've had to clear up a random spot for their meals, sweeping large texts and books and parchments off onto another table. But it was funny almost, in a way. How the newly constant empty spot meant Merlin was wanted in this home, that he was expected to be in this home, and now there was going to be traces of him sprinkled in places outside his room. Despite the many times his uncle had assured him he was wanted here, Merlin still had his doubts on if the day would come whether his uncle would decide if his being here was just too much trouble for him to deal with before kicking him out on the streets. Merlin would rather live on the streets than go crawling back to Arthur for a place for him to sleep, but…his permanent spot at this table made that out to be a very unlikely occurrence.
"I know you say you don't care, but I cannot help but be agitated over what all the people are going to say. It's a tragedy what people will believe during the next few weeks!" Gaius was fussing in the little kitchen area he had set up on the side, each movement jerking as he banged plates and bowls into the other as he set about fixing Merlin a fresh bowl of broth. Anything else would have been too heavy for his stomach to take, and Merlin didn't fancy spending one more hour with his head buried deep into a bucket. "A heart of gold they shall call him! Risking life and limb to save the unwanted peasant consort of his…it's a disgrace! That's what it is! Oooh, not many people would've been willing and wanting enough to bother trying! But Prince Bloody Arthur was so brave to go after it like he did! It burns me up! That's what it does! People will probably try to forget the fact that you saved him first! Bloody blind idiots, the lot of them are! Unable to see what's right in front of them even AFTER how he hit you in the public's eye! And then you go and save their bloody treaty and then what! Still no respect! No gratitude! This entire kingdom should be on their bended knees and thanking you! And what do they do instead! Try cursing your name as if you were just showing off or something!"
Gaius had been fussing like this non-stop for the better part of an hour. Ever since he stepped away from Merlin's health for a few moments to see to some man who had been complaining about a sore throat. Turns out it was nothing more than a little cold, but Gaius had been absolutely steaming when he had gotten back. Something about…Gaius needing only a moment to diagnose his problem and made a comment about returning to his other patient…Merlin. His patient at the time hadn't liked that, thinking Gaius wasn't taking his 'condition of a sore throat' as serious as he should have, despite having been given some tonic that would clear it up in a few days. And started fussing about how their Consort-clearly knowing Merlin was the patient, despite Gaius not mentioning him by name or title-could stand to wait a few minutes so he could have more 'proper' time with his physician. And something about Merlin being lucky for a prince to ride off into the darkness for him. And how Merlin could show just a little gratitude by allowing the prince's people to be seen too as well and not to be monopolizing their physician. Needless to say, Gaius had decided he wasn't going to take anymore patients for anything less than a dire emergency…Merlin was all warm and fuzzy inside. Gaius was sounding more and more like a huge, grumpy old man and Merlin had to hide his smile behind the blanket his uncle was insisting he stay wrapped up in. Not that he was complaining, the warmth of it felt better than the cold on his over sensitive skin.
"Uncle Gaius, you know I don't care what they think. I mean, maybe I did but I'm starting to figure out nothing I do is ever going to make me look like more than just the bad guy in their stories. People are going to say and believe what they want too, but you and I know the truth." Merlin spoke up whenever his old uncle-thought in a fond whisper-finally took a moment between his ranting for a breath of air. Merlin had done a lot of thinking in the last few hours and he'd came to that conclusion…and he already had enough on his plate. He couldn't stress himself out half to death every time somebody said something new and awful about him. It would drive him crazy! And Merlin had already been driven to the brink of crazy before. He had no intention of going back there anytime soon. "We both know who the real hero of this story is…" and Merlin waited till his uncle looked at him with a raised eyebrow, clearly expecting Merlin to give himself a well deserved pat on the back. But Merlin only grinned with cheeky abandonment, something he hadn't known he still had the will to do, "It's the guy that knew what he was doing and how to turn a flower into the antidote to save my life."
There was a moment's pause before Gaius seemed to flush with color, and the consort watched this with increasing satisfaction. Dragging his blanket closer around him to prevent any chill from trying to turn him into an ice cube. All this was…it was nice. Being able to sit here, in this home, embarrassing his uncle while he enjoyed life. He was peaceful, for the first time in a long time. He was sure it wouldn't last for very long, but for now…he was going to embrace it. He was going to enjoy being alive, because it was all of these little moments that made a life worth living. One day very soon, the real world would come to the door for him, and Merlin would be forced to meet it with the fire that had been long abandoned by him. But for now, the only thing in his world that existed is himself and his uncle. And the simmering smell of broth hovering in the air as the steam rose from the bowl Gaius was placing down in front of him.
"Here, you just go ahead and eat your dinner."
Still flustered from Merlin's compliment, the physician turned back around to fix himself his own bowl of broth. But while his back was to him, Merlin's smile slowly started to dim as he looked down at the soup. There was nothing wrong with it. A pale yellowish color, light and airy, with the sweetest smell that came off it. Delicious and mouthwatering for somebody who hadn't been eating any more than a bite here or there for weeks to keep him going. Merlin's had such a major complicated relationship with food…for so long, it was basically one of the only things he could control. The one thing nobody could force him to do if he didn't want to. And Merlin had taken that choice of his and made it extreme in all the worse ways. Turning his nose up at food, wasting more than he had in his entire life, agreeing to eat something later to appease somebody though he had no plan to follow through. Merlin had perfected a few tricks over these last few weeks to stop people from annoying him too much about it…stuffing bread in his pockets so it looked like he ate more than he had. Swearing he'd already ate breakfast before Gaius had woken up and didn't need anything right now…laughing sheepishly as he explained how he got lost in a book and that's why he had skipped lunch. Pushing around his food and breaking it up when Gaius had insisted he and Merlin eat a meal together, making the plate look far more emptier as he spread the food out. Anything to not allow a morsel of meat and cheese and bread to slide past his unguarded lips.
Merlin would have gone on like that for a lifetime if he could, but such a thing just wasn't feasible. With the way he was going, it was clear he probably would not have made it for another month. So poisoned or not, death had been trying to creep up on him. But times were changing, and there was an almost buzzing that hummed the air and made it sing in his ear…something was stirring on the horizon. And Merlin needed to be strong enough to face it. Like today, when he had been standing in front of Bayard and his men…he didn't think anybody had noticed it, but there had been many times where he had nearly collapsed. Now that was probably because he was still recovering from the poison, but he was sure his lack of food was contributing to it. And Merlin was no fool, things had not changed just because he was wanting them to now. The Knights were still going to shove him around, the peasants were still going to trash talk him, and Arthur Pendragon was still going to abuse him once he got over whatever self righteous kick he had been on when he'd tried apologizing. As if just a single 'apology' would make up for everything he'd done. With all that to look forward too and more, well…he needed his strength now more than ever.
And maybe, Merlin thought as he picked up the spoon and carefully dragged it through the soup, making a little line in the path of his utensil, he was doing all this for himself as well. His health had declined so badly. His body looked way worse than it ever had before. He didn't like who he was like this…maybe all he needed to do was take one bite. Just take one bite of the soup as a marker for a better future. Just one single bite…it would be the very start to the long and complicated road ahead. The start of his healing journey…one bite would never be important to somebody else. But to Merlin, as he pulled his spoon from the soup and watched the liquid swishing into the curved bowl of his utensil settle down, it might as well be weighed down with the purest gold. He didn't notice his uncle taking the seat across from him, silently observing how focused he'd been on the meal before him.
As if this was a life or death situation.
As if Merlin's entire future would be decided on rather or not he would take the first bite…
To live or to die…
It was a lot of pressure to put on a single spoonful of broth. But that happened to be the hand they had been dealt with. And it was entirely Merlin's choice on rather or not he was ready to take a step into the happy, healthy, future he may have waiting on him. Gaius could pry and try to shove food down his throat, he could lecture and yell and fuss till he was blue in the face, he could be gentle and sweet and understanding as he tried patiently explaining denying oneself food was never going to end well. But none of that would matter if it wasn't the consort who 'wanted' to get better. Merlin cleared his throat roughly…
"…I still don't understand why Cara went through all the trouble of framing King Bayard. It seems like such an elaborate plan for just wanting to do away with Arthur." Merlin said, letting his spoon drop back into the bowl with a light clang of metal against metal. He could see Gaius frowning at him steadily, but he pretended not to notice, his hand clenching tighter around the length of the spoon. He didn't even know why he didn't take that spoonful, when he already knew for a fact that he wanted to get better. But maybe he was just nervous to do something different, nervous to start breaking the habit of self deprecation little by little, nervous to be happy…scared that things might not be as crystal clear and happy go lucky as he was thinking it would be. What if he finally got a foot over that threshold and realized…he had just as many problems as he's got now. "I mean, she already had the poison in Arthur's cup. I don't know why she decided to bring me into it at all. She just needed to stay quiet and Arthur would be dead right about now."
And Merlin wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel about that, just like how he wasn't sure how to feel about Cara REALLY being the one behind the whole master scheme. She had been somebody he trusted, somebody who was just like him…a peasant who nobles refused to believe because they thought all of them were stupid or overdramatic. And then he found out she wasn't like him at all…his stomach twisted, glancing down into his bowl of soup. This was one more thing Merlin didn't know how to handle…his dream. The weird fever-like dream he'd had when he'd been unconscious. Cara had been this dark, wicked sorcerer who had been determined to put Arthur in the worse situation. And he still had Arthur's words ringing in his ears…about how he'd been the one to get him the cure he needed. Merlin hadn't cared if he did, one act literally wouldn't fix one thing. But then Gaius had explained things to him in more details, about how Cara had orchestrated this whole thing. And Merlin…how was he meant to react to his dream being real? How was his dream real? Was every single part of his dream real, or had Merlin filled in some of the gaps with what he wished he wanted to see…
"Oh, Merlin…you really don't see your worth, do you? You really haven't a clue how important you have became to this kingdom." Gaius said, as his shoulders fell forward. And Merlin's eyebrows furrowed together, sitting a bit straighter in his seat, tilting his head to the side…important? Yeah, Merlin dreamed of being important. But not wealthy or powerful. He dreamed about people liking him or being with his friends or….none of that screamed importance. It screamed one boy wanting a normal life. "Just face it Merlin, how many things have you done for Camelot in your short stay here? The people who actually live in this entire city might be blinder than bats, but not everybody has covers that stops them from seeing the truth. Clearly, this woman was after you specifically. It's one of the only reasons she would have involved you, because she sees what others do not. And knew what their response would be…she knew you would have to drink the poison in order to prove your claims…"
Merlin's throat fluttered as he swallowed, uneasy. He didn't know what he had done to draw the attention of a witch. And he didn't know what he would do if he ever saw Cara again…there was this ominous feel in the air. A cold chill that hadn't been there before, like ice forming underneath his veins. It's like he had said…this woman was after Merlin specifically. So, did that mean she would try again? Was Merlin going to have to start looking over his shoulder every time he left his home? Was he going to start searching face after face every time he passed somebody on the street, trying to catch Cara's face in the crowd? Was he gonna have to start preparing himself for a possible attack…Merlin was very used to being paranoid. Waiting for the day where he would be caught with his magic, but this felt entirely different. Because that was just a possibility. But if all of this had really been a direct attempt on his life…
It was something else entirely.
"It seems as if somebody else out there has also realized you are destined for great things."
Gaius had meant these words to be kind, something somebody should have been proud to be apart of…a great destiny. That was what everybody would want, wouldn't it? It's what Merlin had wanted all this time, to know the true reason he had been given the things he could do. But while he hadn't always known it, he had also been destined to become consort. So, was having some grand destiny really the best thing in the world. Merlin was thinking that it was most definitely not, and anybody looking for a grand destiny didn't know what they were really looking for. Like Merlin hadn't, before destiny had dropped on his doorstep in armor and dragged him from his home…his stomach clenched as he pressed his teeth against his bottom lip. Uncertain rather or not would be a good time for him to speak. But he'd been quiet for long enough as well, trying to make himself out as small had never gone in his favor anyway, and it was Gaius he was talking too…
"I just don't know if I can trust anybody!" Merlin blurted out, seeing the way his uncle's eyes widened. Merlin blushed, almost ashamed of his outburst as he turned back away. He had been bitten so many times by daring to open up and trust somebody. He had allowed himself to be swayed by Cara and their likeness, and it had almost gotten him killed. He had trusted Bayard with this surprising ease, but had been fooled so easily into thinking he was nothing but a murderer. He had been happy to fall head over heels for Arthur, and yet…this is all the things he got for his trouble. It was as if Merlin couldn't even trust his own heart. And if he couldn't even trust himself, then…who out there could he trust? "…I mean, if there is this great destiny waiting for me, then am I going to be alone when I finally reach it? Am I ever going to reach whatever people say is waiting for me? Because if I keep trusting people, it's just going to end one way for me…"
Merlin trailed off, his fingers sliding slowly down the length of his spoon with a pitiful expression on his face, his shoulders sagging forward in the practiced way he would in order to protect himself. Half bracing himself for another hit to his self-esteem that he knew wouldn't actually come. Not here, at least. He found it easy, like slipping into his own skin, to be so melancholy with his awful thoughts on what his future was going to look like. Merlin, standing directly on a narrow ledge, alone. Always alone. Achingly, sorrowfully…alone. And what is the point of destiny, a destiny not even Merlin could fight, if he ended up all by himself. It was so easy for him to wish death had came so he wouldn't have to face what was to come. But…living was supposed to make him happy. So why wasn't he happy yet…
"Merlin," Gaius spoke slowly, and Merlin peeked up through his eyelashes and looked away just as fast. Why did he put himself in these situations? Why did he make Gaius have to go out of his way just to comfort him? They had ended up in the position too many times, with Gaius encouraging him and insisting it would be okay, and promising that the future was now as bleak as Merlin made it out to be. God, why couldn't he, even on the cusp of turning over a new leaf, just be bloody normal! "I might not know what the future holds, or where your destiny is going to take you exactly. But you know that you can trust me. And you can trust your friends as well…Gwen and Morgana."
Merlin wavered…trust was such a fragile thing. One that could be easily broken in half a second, and yet could take years to build. And he's only had just a few short three months to build up what trust he had with these three people that had unexpectedly walked into his life. Could he trust Gaius not to break apart his trust, the man that bandaged his wounds and took him in and loved him as a whole person despite not being good enough? Could he trust Morgana who risked life and limb and fought on his behalf, when he had hardly done a thing to return the favor? Could he trust Gwen, whose loyalty had been won the day Merlin saved her life, when he'd done nothing but cause her stress? Could he really allow these three people into his heart, forever. Could he stand on top of that cliff, and know he wasn't alone. Could he fall from that cliff, and trust that he would be caught before he made it too far…
Merlin's eyes drifted down onto his bowl of soup, the liquid swirling inside with the motions of his spoon, the top so clear that he could almost see his actual reflection inside. And for a second, even though he knew it was entirely in his head, he could see the heads of Morgana and Gwen and Gaius hovering over his shoulder. Then four of them forever connected, bound, Merlin's own little pseudo council…it almost felt as if Merlin was shedding off an old coat. One he knew had never fit well but kept because of the familiarity it gave him. Before Merlin could stop himself, or think about withdrawing back into himself, he was drawing his spoon out of the soup. And sliding it between his lips…the bursts of flavors danced across his tongue. This…this didn't taste like ash. And Merlin was dipping his spoon back into the soup, shoving another mouthful down his throat before he could think twice about it. His stomach let loose a rumble, is he…was he hungry? Merlin hadn't felt hungry in so long, hadn't felt the desire to eat equally as long…
"I um, I have something for you actually." Gaius suddenly said, and his voice seemed to be cracking in the middle, as if he was holding back some great amount of emotion. Gaius was turning his back to him before Merlin was able to see the teary eyed relief…he would walk across the kitchen, dig around in a drawer for a moment, and by the time he turned back with something clutched in his hand, the expression would be wiped from his face. Not making a major deal out of Merlin eating with such gusto, not wanting to embarrass or do one thing that might set Merlin back on the first step in the right direction he'd just taken. "I know you probably aren't going to want it, but I had it picked up so it could be your decision on rather or not you should keep it. It was given to you as a gift, and rightfully belongs to you. So it makes sense for you to decide its fate. Otherwise it'll just be sitting uselessly in the royal treasury like the other one is…"
There was a great big metal clang that rocked the table as something as heavy as a large stone was settled down on top of it. Merlin's eyes fell onto the silver goblet standing there in all its glory as Gaius drew back, his mouth falling open in surprise. It was the goblet…the goblet that King Bayard had gifted to Arthur and him, or at least one of them. His. With its shiny silver surface that glittered under the light, the little ring of blue gemstones embedded around the lip that sparkles beautifully. The little engraving on the bottom of the half circle with a little black dot in the center resting on the base…Merlin didn't know what he'd been meant to say to this.
Merlin had honestly thought he was never going to see this cup again, though if he was being perfectly truthful, he hadn't given it much thought either. With a cup as grand and fancy as this one, Merlin had simply thought it was nothing more than a ceremonial thing. Something to make people think quite highly of themselves, before locking it away in some dusty box where it would be always kept, completely useless as a regular cup BECAUSE of how fancy it was. Trust Merlin when he says, this was the last place he ever thought he would see that goblet, looking so out of place among the mismatch things that came with just being in Gaius' home. And…what exactly was he supposed to do with a goblet like this? Was he supposed to come down in the morning, pour him a generous helping of Gaius secret family tea recipe, and then drink as if he wasn't taking sips from a cup that might as well have marked him as king of the world. Only a king such as that, wouldn't have looked strange with a cup like this within his possession…
"Though just for the record, I think you should keep it." Gaius said, gesturing down to the heavy metal thing, as if it didn't have enough weight to it that the consort couldn't smack somebody upside the head with it and knock them out cold. "I've done made sure to clean it out nice and good just in case, but I can be sure that it wasn't tampered with. And the best part, this isn't a gift coming from Arthur. It's from Mercia, so you won't feel weird about accepting it. I think this gift, correct me if I'm wrong, might actually have been one you earned. So it should stay in your hands, the hands of our Consort Merlin. Every Consort is going to need a fancy goblet to drink their fancy wine from, yes?"
Gaius had an almost playful smirk on his lips, teasing him, acting as if all would be normal, and Merlin snorted. Reaching out, he picked up the cup by the long stem, nearly dropping it from the sheer unexpected weight of it…it was heavier than he had even thought it was. And he tilted it, examining it with a keen and skeptical eye…he could hardly imagine actually keeping it. Where would he put this thing even? On his bedside table? Next to his collection of ratty cloths he used for neckerchiefs? But Gaius wasn't wrong either…this wasn't like the bag of golden coins Arthur had given him that one time in an attempt to make him go away. He had almost died for the other goblet, wasn't it only right he got to keep this one? It was an…earned gift…which made Merlin feel less like he was a gold digger. Damn, it was hard to believe that had been his worst problem at the beginning of this whole crazy fucked up journey. And now look at where he was now, trying to determine rather or not the blue gemstones might offset his decor of choice…
"..You don't think it's strange for me to keep it? I mean, doesn't it belong to the kingdom? Bayard did gift it due to the treaty, so shouldn't it stay with the other match in the treasury?" Merlin asked him, settling the goblet back down on the table…it was funny how fate worked, wasn't it? One minute Merlin was tossing a bag of solid gold coins at Arthur's head, and the next, he was complimenting on what he should do with the jeweled goblet that had been given to him by a king. "I don't think Arthur or Uther will be pleased with me if they ever did find out I have it. Consort or not, I think they'll have something to say about having a goblet worth more than my entire life being used by me as nothing more than a paperweight."
A paperweight seemed like the only thing it would actually be good for, and he could just imagine Arthur's reaction if he ever walked into Merlin's room one of these days for any odd reason. And found it sitting on his bedside table with a stack of parchments underneath it. These rich people were so peculiarly about their things. THEY could do whatever the hell it is they wanted, and Merlin had to ask permission before he took a step off the path they were wanting him to take. And a goblet wasn't worth the fight, unless it was Arthur's head he could smash with the goblet. It was heavy enough that it might knock some of Arthur and his arrogance out of him. It was definitely worth a try, and it wouldn't be a
hardship for him to bash Arthur over the head with it…sigh, if only…
"They won't say anything because Bayard didn't gift the goblets to the city as a whole. He gifted them to you, and to Arthur, and to Uther individually. Do just remember, there were three goblets. They can hardly complain if you decide to keep yours as a souvenir." Gaius commented, as he started digging in his soup set in front of him, the bowl still steaming though it had sat there untouched to the coldness that was staring to abate, replaced with the warmness of a family diner. And as if reading Merlin's mind-why would I want a souvenir of the time I nearly died, he continued, "This is the day you put both Uther and Arthur back in their places when it became clear that Bayard favored you above the both of them combined. Bayard only ever talked to Uther because he needed to, as he is the head of the family. But he hardly even looked at Arthur if he didn't have to. Now, if that's not a point in your favor, then I don't know what is."
Well…Merlin thought, a point in his favor did sound like something nice. It was not often that something actually went his way, and yet, things hadn't blown up in his face quite yet like he thought it would with the treaty. Perhaps it was smart to keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, but as of right now, it seemed to be smooth sailing. And…it was kind of funny knowing that Arthur had ended up spurned as he had, instead of being the focus of everybody's attention. At least not everybody was blinded by the glitz and the glammed that came with being a Pendragon.
"Besides, Consort's are meant to be decorated beautifully." Gaius commented with a single shrug of his shoulder. "I have seen consorts wearing outfits more expensive and glamorous than what their husband is wearing. I've seen them wearing jewels that are bigger than my neck and weigh heavy enough to make it difficult to walk normal. I have seen all manner of consorts, and you having a single goblet is hardly the strangest thing that I've seen. If things had gone as they were supposed too, you also would have had thousands of glamour items you could have chosen from. The only reason you are questioning yourself on just a goblet, is because of the lack of proper attention you've been given. The Consort's of Camelot…" Gaius stopped to shake his head with a disgusted and nasty frown forming on his lips. "They aren't supposed to be treated as you've been. Consorts around here are supposed to be equal, prized by their husband as something unique and entirely theirs. Not something meant to be…"
Abused…Merlin finished the line of thought Gaius had been going down, what little amusement he might've been feeling evaporating faster than a heart took to beat. Not for the first time, Merlin wondered about the other consorts who'd came before him…he'd seen their portraits. The one time he had ran down that wrong hallway in order to escape Valiant, and had came across the portraits of the past kings and their wives. None of them had looked particularly attached to their husband, standing apart as if they were strangers…all except for that one portrait that held Arthur's mother. Who had actually looked happy with her lot in life, being married to a tyrant. But perhaps the portrait had been taken long before Uther descended into the craziness that he was. But no matter, as each woman had looked like she was being gracefully taken care of. Wearing a different dress to depict the time period they were in, but none no less worthy than the other. And then there was Merlin, who wanted nothing that would be more expensive than it would take to say a kind word here or there. But Merlin figured that would always be too much for Arthur Pendragon…
"Then what went wrong with me?" Merlin asked quietly, bringing his hand onto his spoon, swirling it around his soup as he took a solemn bite of it. He wasn't going to allow such a depressing conversation ruin the new relationship that he wanted to develop with his food. "Is my peasant heritage really so harmful to the Pendragon's, that it's okay for them to treat me like they have? I would have thought they'd be more invested in making me an actual consort, and not just trying to make me invisible until they have use for me. And then get angry when I fell because I don't know what I'm doing."
All of this had always been a pile of horse shit, as far as Merlin was concerned about it. The Pendragon family wanted him to fail, and had practically stopped only long enough to ensure it. Though why, was the question…was it just a way of ensuring they felt good about themselves? Made the people think they were saints for taking on a mess such as him. Or were they really nothing more than a bunch of neglectful assholes who couldn't be bothered taking their heads out of their asses for long enough to take a breath of fresh air once in a while…if only to notice the world outside of their so called amazing palace.
"Ah, but you do know what you are doing, Merlin!" Gaius exclaimed loudly, with his fist banging hard enough on the table that their bowls clattered. And Merlin jumped in surprise, eyes shooting back up. "You need to remember that you're capable of far more than you know. It's like you said when you were out on the courtyard with Bayard, you're a peasant. And that is something that can come in handy…you know how to get your hands dirty and get things done in a way a noble would just pay somebody else to figure out. You know how to do things in your own way, and that kind of skill and out of the box thinking can only end up being used as an asset. The Pendragon's think you can't do anything for a single reason…because you were raised a peasant. But you aren't sorely just a peasant. You are the only heir to my bloodline, and you have my support with whatever you decide to do next. You've done nothing but prove that family to be wrong to underestimate you. And you know what…keep doing it. Every time they dismiss you, make yourself heard. Every time Arthur tries to walk away as you speak, give him a reason to stop and take notice of you. Every time there's a catastrophe or incident, put your own brand of crazy into it and figure out a way to fix it. Because if we don't have Merlin Pendragon having his hand in the things going on, then Camelot won't stand for much longer. Just keep pushing back, plant yourself like you are a tree, and don't let anybody knock you back down Merlin. You are worth absolutely more than you have been treated."
Worth more than he'd been treated…the thumping of his heart seemed to echo in his ears, burning him from the inside out. Worth more than he'd been…yes, is what he wanted to scream. He was worth more than he had been treated, he deserved to push back and give as good as he'd been given more than another in this forsaken city. And Arthur deserved to rot beneath his boot. But…Merlin could feel his lips tingling. The remembrance of hard pressure and the violent delivery and the roughness that made his shoulders ache from where Arthur'd grab him. He was worth so much more than somebody who could be used as a means to carry out whatever sick fantasy Arthur had been playing out inside of his head. He was worth more than Arthur defiling him like he had, screaming to the world how straight he was while he kissed Merlin as if it was a sin. Sure, he actually was straight. But whatever game of power Arthur wanted to play, he'd not win with violation and greed and…he shivered in disgust.
"He kissed me." The words fell from his lips before he could stop them, maybe it was just his desire to move on from that particular line of conversation. But it was perhaps because Merlin wanted Gaius to know he had some truly dark-ish things that have happened to him in the past. Merlin was no angel who was not able to do no wrong in the older man's eye. He was disgusting, violated, and it was Arthur who had made him feel like that, a piece of his innocence gone that he wanted to claim back. Hitting Arthur like he had, hadn't been nearly enough of a punishment. He wanted to gut Arthur like a fish for taking away his right to choose who he should give a kiss too, and that was he kind of thinking Gaius had to be aware of. He had to know Merlin wanted to kill somebody. "When he was here last, he kissed me,"
Repeating it like this didn't make Merlin feel as if what had happened was any more real, he could still be having that fever dream for all he knew. Where the prince kissed him like he'd wanted him too way back in the beginning, but the anger he had felt behind that kiss hadn't been anything Merlin could've came up with. Keeping him grounded in his reality. That kiss had to have been only a power play of some kind. His way of truly 'laying a claim' on Merlin as he had tried to do. The way he'd grabbed Merlin's chin and made Merlin look at him in order to declare Merlin belonged to him. Merlin had always wanted to belong to somebody, but Arthur had used it in his twisted games to make Merlin more confused than he already was. Had turned something that was meant to be so beautiful, into something ugly and twisted. Arthur had even forsaken his own claims of straightness, for the sheer purpose of trying to mess with Merlin and his head. As if Merlin would fall at his feet for finally getting some kind of weak intentioned affection from his husband.
But violence wasn't affection.
And Arthur should burn for taking what affection Merlin would have given him not all that long ago and taking it for granted.
"…And did you like it?"
Gaius had gone frighteningly still in front of him, his lips pursed with a flush of indignation on his nephew's behalf. But staying calm, waiting for Merlin's cue as to how he should react to such startling news. Another heartbeat of a single second passed them by, and Merlin's hand resting on the table slowly curled in a fist. His nails catching on the wood and scraping small chucks and pieces off of the already brittle surface. Did he like it…it was a valid question. Maybe that was actually possible…not for him, of course. But maybe it was possible others might like a kiss that felt more like somebody was trying to swallow them up as a whole, sucking their soul out their very body with violent jabs and sweeps of his tongue against them. Though Merlin didn't know who, he was still trying to rework his understanding of how kissing worked. He'd never known one could turn a passionate act between two, showing their affection and decision to be with each other through their lips, could turn into something like…that. Not for a single second, in any of his wildest fantasies where he wondered what it was going to taste like to be kissed, had he imagined how…suffocating the act may be.
"No." Merlin said bluntly, straightening himself in his chair. He wasn't going to lie or act as if it was no big deal. He wasn't going to pretend to act as if he was not as bothered by it as he was. That would be hiding the true violence that he knew was inside the prince, and that would be protecting Arthur from the true consequences of his actions. Arthur wasn't worth protecting. He could have all that was in his land, could have his kingdom and his servants and his gold and his jewels, he could even have Merlin to some extent. But he could never have Merlin the way he thought he could. That was a line Merlin refused to allow the prince to cross ever again. Even if he had to be on guard for a sneak attack of a kiss for the rest of his life. "He was really aggressive and mean and…it was a truly awful kiss."
The response was almost immediate, the force of Gaius throwing himself up to his feet with a loud exclamation was almost explosive. Merlin had to grab onto his bowl before it could rock over the edge of the table and pour straight into his lap. He didn't bother grabbing onto the Mercia goblet, the weight of it way too heavy for it to budge. And as Gaius' face twisted into anger, not at Merlin but at Arthur who dared to touch him without permission, he calmly dipped his spoon back into his soup. The warmness of it pouring down his throat was the grounding sensation he needed, something for him to hold onto, something to force Merlin not to step back into his depression. It was going to be a work of progress, especially if conversations centered around the latest catastrophe of what Arthur had done to him. But he could do this, he could do this, he could…he probably couldn't do this. But he would, if he only had the grit of his teeth to help hold him steady…
"THAT ABSOLUTE BLOODY FOOL! I SHOULD HAVE GONE TO HIM DIRECTLY AND DEMAND TO KNOW WHAT THE BLOODY HELL HAS GONE ON INSIDE OF THAT SKULL OF HIS! HE BREAKS YOUR BODY AND THEN TRIES TO DO THIS TO YOU! HE'LL BE LUCKY IF I DON'T SKEWER HIM MYSELF!" Gaius roared as spittle flew from his trembling lips, his face flushing with red heated rage, and Merlin breathed in the anger swirling in the room. Holding it deep in his lungs as if it was ash, strong and powerful enough to make himself spit fire…people kept calling him a Pendragon. And yet, not many people noticed the 'dragon' in the name as a singular part. Or how dangerous a dragon could be when they'd been pushed too far. Not all dragons could breathe fire from the soul. And not all dragons had been strong enough to withstand people. But all dragons…had known how to roar. Already, Merlin could feel his tongue flicking in his mouth as he resisted the urge to scream with indignation alongside Gaius…he'd done his screaming at Arthur once already. But still, Merlin purposely dipped down his spoon into the soup, and took a much larger and more defiant bite…Arthur and his presence had denied Merlin food. But Merlin would take it back…he'd take everything back. One step at a time…until he was the person he wanted to be and not what they tried to make him. "Did he hurt you when he attacked you? Did he force himself on you. Tell me immediately, Merlin. What did he do to you? Did he do anything else I need to be aware of? Do you need me to give you an examination?"
The rapid succession of questions flying from Gaius brought Merlin's attention back onto his uncle. The other man had stopped his anger only long enough to check on his nephew, giving Merlin the accessing eyes of a physician, looking for any signs of more abuse he might have missed in the time they had spent together since Arthur's last departure from these quarters. And Merlin soaked that in, the care of his uncle verses the hatred of Arthur, allowing it to wash all over him. Giving him strength and power, because not even his defiance would be enough to stand on his own. Gaius could claim he would be strong enough to face the odds alone if he had too, but Merlin knew…he knew he would never be able to do any of the things that would happen in the future if he wasn't by his side.
"No, he didn't hurt me. At least nothing physical. So no new markings for you to wrap up. Maybe he would've but…I punched him in the face before he got a chance to really…do anything worse than that." Merlin said, even as the other man let loose a surprised bark of laughter, Merlin's violent streak this point of pride for the first time, rather than something he needed to be lectured on and being told to be smart about things. And Merlin let his tongue flicker out of his mouth, tracing briefly across his lips. Arthur HAD hurt him, but it was more or less an emotional violated hurt, he didn't have any physical markings to show what had just happened. Even where Arthur had bitten his lips…bitten him just so Merlin could gasp and unwittingly allow that horrid tongue to enter him, felt mostly healed. Just the faint phantom imprint of harshness digging into his bit of flesh. The memory still made Merlin's fist go tight, feeling the harsh thump of blood, hot and heavy, coursing through him. "But Uncle Gaius. I don't think that you…I don't think that you understand…" Merlin's lip curled as the hotness of his blood moved faster in his veins. "Just how much I wanted to kill him."
Merlin had felt many things in his short nineteen years…knowing intimately just how unjust the world could be. And yes, anger had been felt many times. Like when Old Man Jenkins had snubbed his mother for years because she refused to make a 'proper woman' out of herself, and find somebody that would wed a mother with a bastard son. Like when the boy who lived down the street lifted up little Susie's dress in front of half the town because she kicked dirt into his face when he started calling her names. Like when the bandits would roll into their town occasionally, ripping apart their homes and razing their lands just to destroy their crops for the fun of it, taking whatever they found and leaving all the rest of them to starve. But this was the first time Merlin had ever wanted to actually 'kill' somebody. And that should probably scare him more than it did…surely he could be forgiven if it was Arthur he killed. He was half afraid of what his uncle was going to tell him though, admitting that out loud as he was now…admitting to wanting to kill Camelot's prince was treason. Even if it was simply venting.
"I would be worried if you didn't want to kill him. I myself probably would have done it myself if I had walked in on this. Stupid Morris keeping me away from where I'm needed." Gaius snarled under his breath, and when Merlin looked up at him again, he felt the tension in his shoulders melting away when he saw the understanding on his uncle's face. The exhale of breath escaping his lips made him relax even more. He hadn't known what he had been expecting from Gaius but he'd yet been disappointed by the man. "Merlin," Gaius said, as if reading his expression as he retook his seat, reaching out across the table to grab on Merlin's hand, squeezing the flesh gently beneath his own. "Despite the ability you have, you are human. And you have every right in the world to feel the way you do. It's unfortunately, not up to us to decide the fate of those whose paths we cross. But Arthur is a despicable man, and if anybody would deserve such a fate, it would be him. That doesn't make us wrong, and trust me, Arthur will pay for this is one way or the other. You have my word on that one."
Gaius squeezed his hand once again, firm and caring in a way that couldn't be called creepy or disturbing. And his voice had been so full of retribution, full of absolute certainty, that Merlin found he had no choice other than to nod. This made him feel good, made him feel better about himself. If Gaius could look at him and not be sickened, then Merlin could surely walk with his head high and fire brewing in his veins. A volcano of mass destruction could've been lit inside of Merlin, but he would keep his calm. Keep his cool. Just like he had today at the goodbye's. He could keep the fire brewing, but showing Arthur only the ice in his heart would keep Merlin from lashing out and smashing his skull against the wall time and time and time again. Until there was nothing but the useless lump of brain matter.
"But Merlin," Gaius started slowly, cautious, looking for all the world as if there was a bug about to crawl up his arse. Merlin's brows furrowed deeper together as Gaius withdrew from him. "I fear, if Arthur has started to show this interest in you, then perhaps there are some things you need to know." And the young consort tilted his head to the side, not knowing what he could possibly need to know or understand about what had happened to him. Arthur was this terrible and awful man who didn't know how to kiss properly-Merlin didn't know much either but at least he knew shoving one's tongue down another's throat wasn't the way to go about it. "You see, I've been wanting to tell you this for quite the time now, but I allowed it to pass us by. I've tried to tell you this several times actually, but for one reason or the other…I was unable to do so. But now that I see Arthur's violence growing towards you in this manner, now that he's kissed you…"
Merlin immediately wrinkled his nose, whatever it was, he didn't want to talk about it anymore. He'd gotten Arthur's kiss off his chest, and he wanted to put such a horrifying shit show behind him. He didn't know exactly what his uncle was going to tell him, but it would probably include 'the talk' in some way. Like proper kissing techniques or how to know when another man wanted to press a kiss against your slackened lips, or how to make a kiss good for another man so they'd want to come back and do it again. Those kinds of things weren't the kind of things Merlin needed to know. He was sure he could learn it should the day come where he found a partner that actually wanted to be with him, a man that wanted more than to just shove him over and play at being dominant over him. If anybody needed to have that kind of kissing talk, then it would have to be Arthur. At least Merlin understood 'no meant no', a lesson Arthur had sorely missed. If anybody had ever bothered telling him how to handle a man, as not a soul had told Merlin how to kiss before.
But then again, maybe Merlin didn't even want a man anymore. Maybe all he wanted was to focus on himself, for once.
"There's no reason to talk about how bad of a kisser Arthur is. Or how I have absolutely no inclinations to try such a horrid thing again. And I already know a good punch to the face gets him to stop, though I doubt he will try something again." Merlin said quickly, before Gaius could start descending into a lecture mode on how to…how to…how to stick one's tongue into somebody's mouth in a way that didn't include biting them. And when Gaius started to try anyway in a more frantic kind of way, the consort stood up and interrupted him. "Really, I don't want to hear anything more about kissing or Arthur in the same sentence ever again, Uncle Gaius. There's no reason to talk about something that shan't be happening again. The only thing I want to keep my focus on is my recovery and making sure I'm getting better with every step forward and not just falling back every time I fool myself into thinking things are changing. And I really do not want to waste my healing time being disappointed because nobody taught Arthur how to kiss properly-"
Merlin cut himself off, shaking his head with the bitter disappointment that was coursing through him, glancing down at his soup….a kiss was meant to be loving and gentle. Affectionate in a way simply holding hands wouldn't manage to convey all the time. Not meant to be violent and rough and possessive…it wasn't supposed to be dark and twisted. Gaius still looked like he was wanting to protest against Merlin's decision, but the consort simply shook his head and stood up from the table. Pushing his soup bowl away from him. He had ate just half of it, the rest of it growing cold under Merlin's inattentiveness. But the one half of the bowl stood for something…it was more than Merlin had ate in just a single sitting for weeks now. It was a sign of new beginnings. And maybe…just maybe, by this time next month, he'd be ready to eat an entire bowl.
"Uncle Gaius, tomorrow is going to be an entire new day. It's going to be the start of everything…there will no doubt be plenty of hardship I'll be forced to muddle through, that is pretty much going to be a given. But there's got to be more to life than just being unhappy. I don't want to be an unhappy person…I want to live." Merlin spoke, as calm as he could manage though his heart felt as if it had a firecracker going off inside his chest. This right here…this might just be one of the hardest things he had ever done in his life. Yes, even when compared to everything else he'd lived through in these last three months…a marriage. Valiant. The monster in the water. Cara. Arthur…none of it compared to right now. Right this moment. "But I don't think I'm going to be able to do it alone. I need somebody there who will help remind me of how far I have fallen down. And I need somebody to help remind me of the better times ahead for me. Will you do that, Uncle Gaius? Will you help me?"
Gaius didn't answer for a long moment, gazing up at his nephew with eyes so similar and serious, that there was no doubt the two of them were related to the other. And though Merlin already knew what Gaius was going to say, his uncle wasn't a man that abandoned family and neither would Merlin if a day came where their roles were reversed, his palms still felt as if they were about to sweat. It had been a long and complicated journey for Merlin, for him to get to the point where he was asking for help. He'd been trying to stay strong for so long, had been beaten down both emotionally and physically until he could not withstand it for a moment longer. But maybe it was supposed to happen so Merlin could finally understand…he didn't need to walk through this kind of life all alone. He could reach out a hand and no, without a sliver of doubt, that he had another hand waiting and willing to help him rise to his feet. There wasn't anything wrong with asking for help. And there was nothing wrong with going out of his way to accept that help. That's what people were for, that's what all people were supposed to do…being there for one another.
"You know I will be."
And that was that. Merlin gave one jerky nod of his head, before reaching to grab the goblet sitting on the table. The heavy weight made his hand shake, still not altogether well after his bout with the poisoning, but he managed to pick it up well enough. Cradling it in his hands…it was as his uncle had said to him. He had bloody well earned this stupid goblet. But Merlin stalled, thinking on rather or not he should ask Gaius something important…like asking the old man exactly what had happened while he was unconscious. Maybe if he had a few more clues on what had happened while he was out, then he'd be able to dismiss his dream as nothing more than a dream. All Gaius needed to do was say one word that would go against what Merlin remembered, and that would prove it had been nothing more than Merlin's own active imagination…
He just needed to ask.
X
Miles and miles away from Camelot, deep in the woods and buried in a cave that had gone undiscovered by men for centuries, Nimueh resided. She wore her normal garments, the tattered red dress that had once been her favorite of ensembles when she'd walked amongst the halls of Camelot as a friend. And she stood in front of her silver basin, her face flushed with anger, gazing down into the water, the ripples forming the image of Arthur standing on top of the battlements…hate filled her eyes. Stupid fucking Arthur, not taking the chance to give her what she wanted when he had the chance. Oh, but he was going to pay for defying her. For denying her the right to claim the powerful sorcerer as her own…one way or the other. He would pay for keeping Merlin from her…
With a roar of righteous anger, strong enough to shake the birds out of these thick canopy of trees outside that hid the cave from mortal eyes, she slammed her fist into the basin. Upsetting the water and making sure Arthur's image left her sight. She couldn't stand here for one second longer, looking at a man that was so like his father…impudent and woefully unprepared to face a true power and strength that would come from the old religion. But everything was going to go her way. Soon enough…she would have the boy exactly where she would want him. And Nimueh waved her hand over the basin of water, smile growing as the distorted water shifted and changed into her true heart's desire.
Merlin's face swum into view, and Nimueh's smile turned a bit more awestruck with the sight of her beloved now in front of her. Soon, she whispered towards the ripples of water, as if Merlin could hear her, carefully dipping her fingers in the water to not offset the image and tracing down the line of his cheek. In this almost adoring and absolutely fascinated manner. Soon, she vowed down onto the image…soon, you'll be home. And soon, you won't ever have to worry even one bit about Arthur Pendragon. Soon, all will be right in the world. When only the two of them were together, able to intermingle their magic without anyone, people who wouldn't understand them and how important it was for the people like them to connect, interrupting.
Soon…
X
Merlin Pendragon, as the witching hour was drawing upon him, finally closed the door to his room. Pressing his back against it…he'd spent hours in a quiet discussion with Gaius about each and every thing that had happened while he had been out. Arthur finding out Gaius was his uncle…promising to fix things and then disappearing…Morgana encouraging Arthur to go after his father had refused to allow him (of bloody course, Arthur would need to practically get a kick to the rear before doing anything to go against his bloody father)…having Gwen taking care of him as Leon watched over him. Having Morgana deal with calming Uther as he ranted about Arthur leaving, having Gwen risking her own neck to get the flower from Arthur when he'd been taken to the dungeons…the consort wasn't entirely sure what had happened there. Something about many of Camelot's knights ending up in a separate infirmary upon Arthur's arrival in the kingdom…
Whatever.
And then to hear Gaius' quiet confession when he said Merlin had done magic in his sleep…a shiver wracked down his body that had nothing to do with that, even as he lifted his hand up to look at his palm. As if expecting magic that he didn't want to start shooting from his hands. Now, Merlin was used to magic as it happened without his command…stopping a water goblet in mid-fall before it shattered. Leaves dancing in the air to make shapes in the wind. Sparks that made his eyes glow with the power of the ancients before him. But he'd always been aware of it happening. As far as he was aware, he had never done spells in his sleep…
Was that something else Merlin was going to need to worry about from now on and on? Would he have to seal himself inside his room each and every night to make sure something wouldn't fly across the room if he was having some kind of nightmare? Would he never be able to sleep in the same room as somebody else without worrying he'll reveal himself to somebody he shouldn't. Was this a sign of some sort, telling him his magic was getting stronger and stronger so it would be all that more difficult to command. Merlin didn't know, but he had a chill thinking about it. Thinking of his magic growing…sure, he'd learned a few spells in his time here in Camelot. But surely a few simple spells hadn't caused such an intense spike in his magic.
Could it have?
But the chills going down his spine had absolutely nothing on the goosebumps forming on his arms, the hair standing on end as it feared something he'd not told Gaius about. His dream…Merlin had asked almost every question at least a dozen times in a different dozen ways. Trying to trip Gaius up? Or catch him in a lie, though he knew the other man had no reason to lie to him. But Merlin'd been left hanging each and every time, until he had no choice other than just admitting the truth…his dream had been real. Everything Gaius had said only sparked familiarity and remembrance in him. And that meant everything in his dreams was real…Arthur really had met Cara in the woods. And she really had tried to kill him. And she had offered his life as a trade…that part had to have been real as well, right? If everything else was. And Arthur had…turned Cara down flat? And then Merlin had saved Arthur's life,
Because of course Arthur couldn't save him without Merlin having a hand in his own rescue,
Fucking Arthur wouldn't have been feeling so proud of himself if he knew that he couldn't have done it without Merlin.
Merlin Pendragon walked on autopilot across the length of his room, vaguely noting he would need to spend his entire day cleaning up the mess he'd made of it before he'd been poisoned, as glass crunched underneath his feet. Merlin worked as if everything was normal, setting the silver goblet he'd earned down on his table, barely noticing the wooden chest sitting on top of it, one he could have sworn he had knocked onto the ground during his rampage after Arthur'd hit him. And Merlin untangled the bucket that was roped across his window-he would later learn Leon had tied it like that so the bucket would fall if somebody tried climbing through, as some kind of warning security system in case there was somebody out there who wanted to make sure the job was done-and set it down on the floor. He would pick up a rag, frozen stiff with dried water after he had used it last several days before, but still good enough to use, and then he would start cleaning his face. Starting to prepare himself for bed as he gazed into the mirror that hung on the inside of his small wardrobe, carefully wiping around the fading bruise left on his face. Another day or three, and it would be most likely gone….
But somewhere between wiping away the sweat in the crease of his eye and the smudge of dirt on his cheek…that turned out to be a darker section of the bruise, he froze. A small glimmer of light had caught his attention, shining as if it was begging for Merlin's attention…his wedding ring. Merlin, still running on autopilot more than he wasn't, slowly lowered his hand from his face to look at the ring on his marriage finger. The simple silver band seemed to sparkle up at him, the red dragon carved into the metal if he looked close enough, may have been winking at him. Merlin almost felt as if he was caught up in some kind of trance, moving his finger just slightly so the light could continue bouncing off of it.
There were probably thousands of people in the world who would put up with all the crap that came with being consort, as long as they would be allowed to wear a ring such as this one. Most peasants weren't even able to get hands on a ring to use when they were ready to be married, and even if they did, it might be something old and brittle that had been passed down in the family for many generations and just needed to be retired by that point. And if they didn't even have that, most people got creative by tying something like a piece of string or twine around their finger. Something to mark their marriage, but not something that would ruin their family in an attempt to afford a silver chunk of metal that was only going to end up as a paperweight someday.
Most people would probably claim Merlin was a spoiled brat, if word ever got out on how much he hated his ring. Claims of nothing being good enough for him ringing like a war cry on the horizon, but Merlin was done giving a damn of what people thought about him. Or caring what they said about him. And you know what, Merlin was so bloody sick and tired of looking at this stupid ring on his finger, his energy literally draining with exhaustion because the ring didn't do anything more than remind him of Arthur. It was nothing more than a weight or a ball on a chain attached to the ankle of a prisoner, keeping Merlin locked in holy matrimony to a dreadful man. Keeping Merlin in his possession like one would keep an old pair of boots one hated, but never bothered with getting rid of because it was simply too much trouble.
Merlin hesitated, biting down on his bottom lip as he brought his hand up and played with his ring, spinning it slowly around his finger once before dragging it up towards his first knuckle…so many times, Merlin had asked himself where the line would stand between being a peasant and being a consort. Many many times, he had asked himself how far he was willing to go to be their consort, or how far he was willing to push back to keep embracing his peasant roots…but maybe the ring was the answer, in some strange way. Maybe…maybe it really was time for Merlin to shed the cloak that marked him as consort, and be what he wanted to be. Whatever the bloody hell that was going to be.
Arthur be damned.
And before Merlin could talk himself out of it, or say he was being stupid to try thinking this would change anything, he was dragging the metal ring off of his finger. The reaction was almost instantaneous, his entire body trembling as he sagged against the wardrobe, but he wasn't sick though he felt almost dizzy to be sure. He was giddy. Giddy and happy and pleased, as if this ring really had been a weight holding him down this entire time. And now that it was gone…he truly had been stupid for not taking it off earlier. So stupid as to not realize the kind of effect the ring had been having on him this entire time…
The grin nearly broke Merlin's face as he giggled like mad to himself, holding onto the ring in his fist. Feeling the indentions of the metal trying to imprint in his skin, as if screaming at him to put it on. That it was meant to be worn only by the spouse of Camelot's prince. But Merlin didn't bloody care. Because a marriage was supposed to be a sacred bond between two people, and meant to be physically represented by the identical pair of rings that'd been forced to wear. But Arthur didn't even bloody wear his anymore when he didn't have to wear it! So why should Merlin be stuck bearing the entire weight of their own marriage all alone?
He shouldn't bloody have to.
And he wasn't going to.
This ring had done nothing but hold him back.
And now Merlin was ready to cut those bonds so he could finally fly free.
Like an angel ascending high above the clouds.
Still grinning wide, Merlin strode across the room to his dresser. He eyed the drawer for a moment before looking at the wooden chest Arthur had forced on him not that long ago. Well…one forced item deserved another, he declared to himself, popping open the lid. Merlin's close fist hovered over the mismatched array of items Arthur had poorly copied from his original box, and his grin grew into something a bit more mad. Excited. No more, Merlin thought with enough glee it could've gotten him committed to an asylum, no more would he accept being treated as nothing more than an inconvenience. As somebody that could be played around with by Arthur whenever the blond decided to pull him out of the dusty box he was constantly being shoved down into whenever he wasn't wanted or needed.
No more was he willing to be a passive participate in whatever Arthur wanted from him.
He was Merlin Pendragon, and he was done.
He would be nobody's plaything, not even a prince's.
Merlin dropped the ring into the box, and closed the lid with a click that was so satisfying, it made his toes curl with the anticipation of what tomorrow would bring him.
X
Down in the lower town, the streets were as empty as could be as the people gathered in their homes for a well deserved rest. But if anybody would've been outside, they would have heard the eerie whistle that seemed to be coming out of one of their homes. An eerie whistle that seemed to carry on the breeze and could make a man's heart freeze. An eerie whistle, if followed, would have ended at the home of Arthur's once personal manservant. Morris, whose calm whistle came to a slow and steady halt as he carefully wiped the blade he had used to stab a servant to death. An eerie whistle that became no more, as Morris was sliding the knife into the rickety chopping block sitting on his counter. A eerie whistle that mattered not, compared to the sinister grin on Morris' face as he was climbing into bed, eager and hopeful for what more damage he would be able to inflict come tomorrow…