I'd Definitely Watch That, But I Would Want To Know If The Writers Would Give Uther A Weird Amount Of

Gaius yelling with the door open: WHEN WILL YOU LEARN MERLIN THAT YOUR MAGIC IS A SECRET YOUR MAGIC MERLIN THE MAGIC YOU HAVE IS A SECRET MERLIN MAGIC-

The guards outside the chambers passing by:

Thanks for tagging me @saladscream! This looks like fun!

3 Non-romantic Duos:

Merlin & Gwen. I love their sweet friendship and wish that the show kept it for longer!

Gwaine & Percival. Chaotic knight bros! They deserved more screentime together.

Merlin & Lancelot. Merlin and his bestie! They deserved more time!! Merlin deserved more time with the one person who truly understood him!

A ship that might surprise others:

Leon/George! I'd love to write a fic about these two one day! Two tired dudes who just want to do their jobs but the madness in Camelot keeps getting in the way lol!

Last Song: The Moon Will Sing by the Crane Wives

Last Film: Probably also Deadpool & Wolverine.

Currently Reading: The Song of Achilles. I just started it though, so it might take me a while to finish!

Currently Watching: I'm not really watching any shows right now, especially with uni final exams coming up quick!

Currently Consuming: Merlin fics and Thanksgiving food!

Currently Craving: Hot chocolate and having enough time to write!

No Pressure tags!

@theroundbartable @larluce @achillesuwu

3 people you'd like to get to know better

(because I think 9 would be a bit presumptuous of me) 😅

tagged: @realmoftenderness 😁

tagging: @bertytravelsfar @calamity-talvi @ramblings-of-a-chaotic-neutral

3 non romantic duos :

Arthur & Leon

Subtle sibling vibe, these two. True brothers in arms. Probably best mates since they were wee lads playing with sticks instead of swords.

Merlin & Gwaine

Obviously partners in crime, these two. It's canon.

That is not to say they wouldn't have been lovers under different circumstances... Because Gwaine is one flirty trollop and Merlin is only human (mostly). 😏

Uther & Gaius

Very odd dynamic between these two. It sometimes feels like they were once great friends. Possibly a bit like Arthur and Merlin - except the whole thing has gone very very wrong. Now it simply feels like they know each other's worst secrets.

A ship that might surprise others

Uther/Nimueh

I haven't given much thought to this, mind you. But if I have to come up with some unusual couple, I would put my money on these two. It's just... They both deserve each other. And Nimueh got rid of Ygraine. I feel there's a tension between them that speaks of former attachment.

Last song: "Urgent" by Foreigner because it's one of my favourites.

Last film: "Deadpool and Wolverine"? I think. Either that or "Trap"

Currently reading: Sadly, nothing. Last proper book I read was "The Captive Prince" (thanks for the rec btw, Berty!)

Currently watching: Um... "Agatha all along". Finished watching it a couple of weeks ago, but haven't had the time to start anything else. Where do you guys find the TIME to watch stuff?!? I can barely function as it is, with work and family, etc.

Currently consuming: Merthur fics. Like cookies. And coffee of course.

Currently craving: peace and quiet. The holidays. FREE TIME to write!

Hello again everyone! Since the "Archeologist Merlin and Immortal Camelot" au won the continuation poll, here is part 3 of this au!

You can find part 1 here, and part 2 here!

As a recap for this au, Merlin died at Camlann instead of Arthur, which led to his magic dispersing and making everyone in Camelot immortal, but it could only sustain them for so long before Merlin's prophesized return, so all of Camelot spent several centuries asleep, waiting for Merlin to return. Merlin, however, is reincarnated without his memories or his magic, and becomes an archeologist who is assigned to a dig site of an old medieval city. When he returns to Camelot, his dormant magic wakes everybody up again, leading to him and his coworkers believing that they had woken up the dead somehow and now were going to be killed for it. They're captured by Arthur and the knights, who assume that Merlin still remembers everything and is being kidnapped by the other archeologists. Arthur then has dinner with Merlin and figures out that, not only can Merlin not understand what he's saying, Merlin doesn't remember him at all. Arthur tries to jog Merlin's memory, but when that fails, Arthur kisses Merlin instead, which returns his memories to him.

Now that we've recapped what's happened, onto the new stuff!

NOTE: You can find the translations of the Old English at the bottom!

After Merlin's memories returned to him, he and Arthur had a very long conversation about how Merlin hadn't actually risen from the Lake of Avalon, as Arthur believed, but was rather reborn and lived an entire life before fate brought him back to Arthur's side and returned his magic and memories to him. Arthur, very distressed, asked Merlin if he had found a new lover in his new life, if one of Merlin's coworkers whom he had imprisoned was actually Merlin's new lover.

Much to Arthur's relief, Merlin shook his head, and told Arthur with a smile that his heart had held off, waiting to return to Arthur.

After Arthur released Merlin's colleagues, they wouldn't leave, insisting that they wouldn't leave Merlin behind to suffer at the hands of a terrifying undead king. It took a lot convincing on Merlin's part to make them leave temporarily, but Merlin came up with some explanation that they had found a way for Merlin to speak their language, and he was going to negotiate with them. It was the best that Merlin could do, considering that he couldn't really tell them the full truth that he was a reincarnation of a sorcerer who was friends with the king without convincing them that he had lost his mind.

However, after Merlin proved to them that he could now speak Old English and could communicate with the "undead" knights, his coworkers hesitantly made their way back out of the castle and up to the surface. They did insist that Merlin radio up to them every day so that they knew he was safe, which Merlin readily agreed to. He liked his colleagues, he really did, and he was very grateful that they were so willing to try to protect him, but he needed to be able to get to work without their interference.

Arthur and pretty much everyone else in Camelot were under the impression that Merlin would immediately return to work in the castle, working as either Arthur's advisor or his court sorcerer, which were positions that Arthur never had the chance to elevate Merlin to before his death. Arthur had only found out about Merlin's magic moments before Merlin sacrificed his life for Arthur's at Camlann. After Arthur was able to think past the grief that clouded his every thought following Merlin's death, he had legalized magic in Merlin's memory, fulfilling his destiny before he even knew about the prophecies.

However, Merlin knew that he couldn't drop off the face of the earth to move back into Camelot. If he disappeared, someone would notify the authorities, and if the government found the immortal kingdom Camelot, then all hell would break loose. No, Merlin had to keep up appearances in the life he had built for himself since his reincarnation.

But Arthur wasn't too thrilled to hear Merlin tell him that he needed to leave so soon after he had returned.

"Hwæt eart þū blǣdere on ymbe, Myrddin? Hwī wolde þū æfre neódan to lǣfan? Hwæt is swā micel be þǣm worulde ūt þǣr þæt hit þē ættrǣde fram Camelot?"

Merlin sighed deeply, looking at Arthur's pouting face. It was nice to see that Arthur was still a prat even after centuries apart.

"Ic nele þæt þæt geweorþe, ac gif ic forwurðe to þinum sīþum, mæg folc cuman me secan. Ic nele bēon þæt wundor þæt Camelot bið on gefēa. Se weoruld is māre gefēra þonne þu hī læftest, and ic nele geseon þæt ǣnig in Camelot bēo ġehyrsted."

Arthur puffed his chest in both indignation and pride. Merlin smiled, knowing what Arthur would say next.

"Nydwracu, Myrddin! Camelot is se strangesta gefeohtan mægen on eallum lande! Wē habbað bēon untēohlic and unāslegen for fēowertig wintra þanc þīnre gife! Ic behēte þē, wē magon ġefēran ǣghwæt þæt se ūteweard weoruld hæfð to āwurpan ūs."

Merlin gave Arthur a smile, but they could both tell that it was a bit strained. Arthur truly had no idea how dangerous the modern world had become, what vile weapons of destruction mankind had developed. Merlin wished to spare him that knowledge, and certainly didn't want Arthur to see it firsthand. Arthur gave Merlin a more reassuring smile back and clapped a hand on his shoulder, shaking Merlin gently.

"Būton þon, wē habbað se strangesta wiccecræftiga on eallum weorulde on ūrum gefēohte! Nān ōðer ne mihte wið ūs ġestandan gif hī dorston ūs tō ācwellan!"

Arthur's words had Merlin laughing, and Arthur smiled at him like he'd achieved something great. Oh, Arthur truly had no idea how different the world was, how little magic was left in it.

But still, Merlin feared for the safety of all of Camelot if he stayed. No, Camelot would be safest if it remained hidden, and Merlin couldn't let any attention be brought to it. His colleagues were already too frightened by their experience and the assumed "curse" that woke up the "dead" in the castle to tell anyone about what they truly found at the dig site.

Still, Merlin needed to provide his bosses some excuse for why they shouldn't proceed with any further excavations at this site, and he needed to come up with some explanation for all of his friends and other coworkers why he would need to put his life on hold for a while to work out some plan to make sure that Camelot can continue to exist in the modern world in peace.

And to do any of that, Merlin needed to leave Camelot for the time being. And still, Arthur resisted Merlin's suggestions that he needed to leave. Merlin supposed that, to Arthur, they could stay in the castle forever and just fend off whatever attacks came their way, and so there was no reason for Merlin to leave and venture back out into the scary, unfamiliar modern world.

While Merlin was somewhat touched by Arthur's fierce protectiveness, it wasn't helping in this situation.

"Ic Arthur, ic hæfde lifode on ðære ūtan weorulde for mīn eall līf siððan ic wæs ācenned. Ic beoð swīðe sāl on ðǣr!"

Arthur's frustration made itself known as he understood the implication that Merlin had been living in such a dangerous unknown world without any Arthur or any of his friend to support him.

"Ac þū self cwæðest þæt se middangeard is geworden swīðe dēadlic stōw! Þū ne scealt þē self in swylc unnyt gefāra, nā swā hræd swā þū eart eft to ūs gewend!"

Merlin frowned, trying to come up with some sort of compromise. He needed to keep Camelot safe, but to do that, he needed to leave, which he couldn't do with an overprotective dollopheaded king blocking his exit!

"Dēst þū þincð þæt geseon ðone ūtan weorulde mihte gelǣcan ðīn fyrhto? Ic mihte niman þē and sume ōðre mid mē eft to ðǣr ic hæfde lifode for ðā fēower geara, þæt þū mæge geseon ðone nīwan weoruld fram sumum sāllicum stōwe."

It was the best solution that Merlin could come up with. If Arthur came with him, he could see how much the world had changed and keep an eye on Merlin to his own satisfaction. Arthur looked rather determined as he accepted Merlin's offer.

"Gōd, ic ālǣte hit, ac gif wē mētað in gefāra, ic bebēode þæt wē gewendan to Camelot hrædlice. Ic ne wylle þæt wē beoð besencen in ādligum getimbrung butan ǣnigum fultume."

Merlin nodded and smiled at Arthur, trying to find the words to prepare Arthur for what he would face in the outside world, but largely failing. Merlin radioed his coworkers to let them know that he was coming out of the ruins with the king in tow, much to their shock and panic.

Merlin: Hey, I'm heading back home!

Other archeologists: Yay, you've escaped!

Merlin: And I'm taking the hot maybe-undead king home with me!

Other archeologists: Damn, we didn't know that you were freaky like that Merlin. You sure that's a good idea?

Merlin: ... I don't know if there's a correct response to that.

Merlin's colleagues all held their breath as the king, still in his armor and still fully armed with aa sword, exited from the sunken castle onto the dig site. He glared at them, but allowed himself to be led by Merlin over to Merlin's care. They all let out a sigh of relief when he was finally out of sight.

Merlin, on his part, tried to describe a car to Arthur before he actually rode in one, hoping to prepare him for the inevitable shock. He can plainly see that Arthur cannot imagine the "loud horseless carriage" that Merlin was describing, but he'd see it soon enough.

Arthur was rather shocked to see Merlin's car, looking unsure of what to make of what must like to him to be a large, malformed lump of steel. Merlin coaxed Arthur into sitting in the passenger seat and buckled him in, explaining that the restraint was for safety.

Arthur had done a remarkable job of remaining calm, in Merlin's opinion, before Merlin started the car. As the engine roared to life, Arthur yelped with fright, looking frantically around the inside of the car like he was inside the body of a ferocious beast.

Merlin took a few minutes to calm Arthur down, explaining that it was normal, and the car wasn't going to hurt either of them. After Arthur's panic seemed to subside, Merlin put the car in drive and started the 45 minute trip back to his flat, with Arthur keeping a hand clenched on the hilt of his sword for the entire ride.

Luckily, the route back to Merlin's flat took them through the countryside, so Arthur didn't have to experience the sensory overload of a city, but Arthur still caught glimpses of modern-day homes and shops.

Once they arrived at Merlin's flat, Merlin gently parked his car and led Arthur up the stairs to the level where he lived. All the while, Arthur stared at everything around him, from the electric lights to the unnaturally smooth walls to the odd floors that were made of some soft material.

Eventually, they arrived at Merlin's flat, and he let Arthur inside. Arthur froze almost immediately after passing over the threshold, unsure of what to make of... anything in the space.

Absolutely nothing looked similar to what was in Camelot. Arthur slowly made his way into the middle of the room, his hand still clenched on his sword's hilt. Everything looked so strange and foreign, with possible dangers hiding behind every corner.

Merlin tried to show him a few things, like how the torches in the ceiling could be lit and extinguished by flipping a little nub on the wall, which must b the work of sorcery, or how the strange steel box in Merlin's kitchen could keep food cold for days, which Arthur had been intrigued by. Merlin must have used his magic to capture the northern tundra in this box!

Merlin then showed him the "living room", where there were more familiar things like chairs and bookshelves, but also a strange black box on the wall. Perhaps it was some odd decoration?

Then Merlin showed him the bedrooms, which were, to Arthur's relief, not that different from bedrooms in Camelot. There was a bed, chests of drawers, and a room that acted similarly to a wardrobe.

However, Merlin then showed him the bathroom, where there was a bathtub that magically filled itself with water coming from the wall, and a latrine that magically cleaned itself with water!

After the tour, Merlin sat him down on the wide seat on the living room and told him to relax while he had to send a message to someone.

From there, I imagine this au could go two ways. Either it becomes a funny sitcom with Merlin trying to get his medieval friends accustomed to modern-day life, or it becomes an angsty drama about Merlin having to live a double life and having to live with being caught between two different worlds, knowing that if the government or the general public knew about his magic or Camelot's existence, it would mean disaster for everyone he cares about. I'll let you guys decide which version you like more!

TRANSLATIONS:

Hwæt eart þū blǣdere on ymbe, Myrddin? Hwī wolde þū æfre neódan to lǣfan? Hwæt is swā micel be þǣm worulde ūt þǣr þæt hit þē ættrǣde fram Camelot? = What are you blabbering on about, Merlin? Why would you ever need to leave? What's so great about the world out there that it would pull you away from Camelot?

Ic nele þæt þæt geweorþe, ac gif ic forwurðe to þinum sīþum, mæg folc cuman me secan. Ic nele bēon þæt wundor þæt Camelot bið on gefēa. Se weoruld is māre gefēra þonne þu hī læftest, and ic nele geseon þæt ǣnig in Camelot bēo ġehyrsted. = If the people in the outside world find out about Camelot, they might try to attack. I don't want that to happen, but if I disappear to stay with you all, people might come looking for me. I don't want to be the reason that Camelot is put in danger. The world is a much more dangerous place than you left it, and I don't want to see anyone in Camelot get hurt.

Nydwracu, Myrddin! Camelot is se strangesta gefeohtan mægen on eallum lande! Wē habbað bēon untēohlic and unāslegen for fēowertig wintra þanc þīnre gife! Ic behēte þē, wē magon ġefēran ǣghwæt þæt se ūteweard weoruld hæfð to āwurpan ūs. = Nonsense, Merlin! Camelot is the strongest fighting force in all the land! We have been untouchable and undefeated for centuries thanks to your gift! I assure you, we can handle anything that the outside world has to throw at us.

Būton þon, wē habbað se strangesta wiccecræftiga on eallum weorulde on ūrum gefēohte! Nān ōðer ne mihte wið ūs ġestandan gif hī dorston ūs tō ācwellan! = Besides, we have the strongest sorcerer in the world on our side! No one else would stand a chance against us if they dared to attack!

Ic Arthur, ic hæfde lifode on ðære ūtan weorulde for mīn eall līf siððan ic wæs ācenned. Ic beoð swīðe sāl on ðǣr! = Arthur, I have lived in the outside world for my entire life since I was reborn. I will be perfectly safe out there!

Ac þū self cwæðest þæt se middangeard is geworden swīðe dēadlic stōw! Þū ne scealt þē self in swylc unnyt gefāra, nā swā hræd swā þū eart eft to ūs gewend! = But you said yourself that the world has become a much dangerous place! You shouldn't put yourself in such unnecessary danger, not so soon after you've returned to us!

Dēst þū þincð þæt geseon ðone ūtan weorulde mihte gelǣcan ðīn fyrhto? Ic mihte niman þē and sume ōðre mid mē eft to ðǣr ic hæfde lifode for ðā fēower geara, þæt þū mæge geseon ðone nīwan weoruld fram sumum sāllicum stōwe. = Do you think that seeing the outside world would help ease your fears? I could take you and a few others with me back to where I've been living for the past few years, so that you can see the new world from somewhere safe.

Gōd, ic ālǣte hit, ac gif wē mētað in gefāra, ic bebēode þæt wē gewendan to Camelot hrædlice. Ic ne wylle þæt wē beoð besencen in ādligum getimbrung butan ǣnigum fultume. = Fine, I'll allow it, but if we run into danger, I demand that we return to Camelot at once. I do not want us to be caught in a dangerous situation without any backup.

And that's all for now for this au! Quick question for everyone though: I feel like I've got enough material already written on this au to reformat it a bit and post it as a fic on ao3. Would you all like for me to do that? Please let me know if so!

And thank you for reading through my ramblings! :D

This is a good point. Arthur, either willingly or subconsciously, always has a simplified (and somewhat idealized) version of Merlin in his head, which lets him treat Merlin without respect up until he actually needs Merlin's wisdom and guidance, but then he immediately reverts back to treating Merlin as he always has.

While I was watching the show for the first time, I thought Arthur treated Merlin like an emotional support teddy bear. The teddy bear is soft and comforting and keeps the nightmares away, and Arthur takes Merlin with him everywhere, even where he isn't needed, as a child with a favorite teddy bear might. But that teddy bear, in Arthur's eyes, is only an object, only there to comfort its owner, so why would he care about the teddy bear's wants or needs? It doesn't have any anyways!

This is why Arthur drags Merlin everywhere with him, regardless of what Merlin himself wants. And, like a favorite teddy bear, Merlin gets dirty, torn up, and damaged from the job of being there for Arthur, but Arthur never notices, too stuck focusing on what Merlin should do for him to see Merlin's current state.

Merlin is kind of like a dog to Arthur. I mean this in all of the good and all of the bad ways.

@onegirlintheback suggested that the machine should be violently shaking, and I couldn't agree more!

Look at him go! :D

Washing machine…. Have you put Merthur in a washing machine? Might you put them in a washing machine?? /lh /nf

Well, I couldn't fit them both in there, so here's Arthur on spin cycle! Enjoy!

Thanks for the tag! <3

Mine was "synonyms for shocked". I spend a lot of time on thesaurus.com lol! I'm always terrified of using the same descriptive word twice in one paragraph. 😅

No pressure tags!

@sugar-coated-prat-dragon, @justaz, @guiltyscarlet, @tansyuduri

last google search, go

um. Tag four people.

what do they make sewer tunnels out of

@ncc1701ohno @affixjoy @the-magpieprince @twinkboimler

"Why." It slips out of his lips before Arthur's dignity can catch up with his tongue and spare him, at least, this last shame.

Agravaine scoffs. "Your father bartered my sister's life for an heir. He was the mind behind her murder, but you were the hand." A shake of the head. "I'd sooner die than see you on her throne."

There is so much Arthur wants to scream at him. A defense for his father -he loved her-, defense for himself -I was a child-, but he's rendered speechless by the realization that all these months at his court, his uncle had not been on his side for a single day. He's followed plans of this man, he'd killed on his advice, he'd questioned the loyalty of friends who deserved better than that. On a traitor's word, he'd left his walls unprotected as the snake grew inside them.

"You will not get away with-" His heroic, if empty, threats are silenced by the gag that Cenred returns to his mouth, a bored expression on his face.

"We should just kill him and put his head on a spike on the inner wall. That will stop the peasant resistance quick enough."

On his knees in his own hall of ceremonies, Arthur has no idea of the state of the fight outside. He'd ordered his men to surrender, to spare their lives at least, but some refused the order and kept fighting in the streets. And for some forsaken reason the people of Camelot joined them.

When all he can see are streaks of smoke rising in the thin darkness of the evening, shades of orange painting pictures on the ceiling, Arthur can only imagine the carnage that is being consumed in his streets. The mere though pierces through his chest like a spear.

"Let the peasants die if they want," Agravaine waves a hand. "Believe me, I wouldn't mind killing my nephew right now either, but we need to secure this allegiance and his head might be our only way there."

"Yes, Morgause mentioned," Cenred stalks lazily to the long table of the feast he interrupted. He searches among the plates for a piece of dried fruit, then takes off one blood-soaked glove to toss the treat into his mouth. "Why is it that we need this wizard, exactly? I've seen what a single High Priestess can do; I can only imagine what a pair of sisters could achive." Agravaine looks pointedly at Arthur. Cenred rolls his eyes, and gathers for himself another sweet plum. "He's going to be dead in a few hours anyway. What does it matter what he hears?"

"You know it's not the magic that we lack, it's legitimacy," Agravaine seems, at least, as disgusted as Arthur feels. Except, he leans against the table to stare down at his bound and gagged nephew, so maybe not that disgusted.

As long as they're toying with him, at least, they are not toying with Guinevere. That is the one thought that keeps Arthur's spine straight through the humiliation: that his wife was sent to the dungeons with distracted orders, along with other prisoners of lower rank, men and women both, so maybe, just maybe, she could live through this ordeal. If it is Arthur's time, maybe it doesn't have to be hers as well.

"Legitimacy? They are blessed by the Goddess and I am the rightful king," Cenred scoffs.

"Not of Camelot. But fear not, Morgana has the claim to the throne, it is not the succession line that is in question." With the tip of the same dagger he'd used to cut the cape off of Arthur's shoulders, the clothes off his chest and back, leaving him in trousers and linen shirt, Agravaine points to the windows and the screams still rising beyond them, coming muffled into the air of the room. "The prophecies of old are the problem. They still have power over the Old Religion folks. You think the Catha were the only ones who turned on us? You think the druids will be the only to refuse the priestess' call? This is only the beginning."

"The Cathas are a dying breed and the druids have never seen a fight in their lives, who cares on whose side they choose to make their stand?" The fruit's seed is spat on the floor. It echoes against the tall walls and the broken bodies of the soldiers who died trying to save their king. "They will see that we cannot be stopped soon enough, and then-"

"Can we not?" Agravaine interrupts. "It is way too early to make such a bold claim, my lord."

Cenred meets Agravaine's eyes very slowly. He picks a small morsel of cheese, swallows it with lazy abandon and then picks at a piece of something left between his teeth with the nail of his little finger. "This wizard?"

"A fraud, most likely," Agravaine shakes his head. "Claims the throne of First of the Dragonlords, but everybody knows Uther put an end to that kind long ago. Still, rumours have spread and now many of the magical creature believe him to be the mythical Emrys. The greatest sorcerer to ever walk the Earth. The right hand to the king of prophecies."

"If you truly think him a fraud, then why do you suppose we need an allegiance with him? I cannot understand this. Why cannot Morgause and Morgana just kill him?"

"A fraud on our side is better than the true thing in hiding. So long as Emrys doesn't side with us, we will meet opposition from those who interpret it as his hostility. We need his support, if we are to turn all of magic against Camelot." Then, because Cenred arches a brow dauntly at him, Agravaine scoffs. "Furthermore, there is no hint as to who this person could be, or where. This is our chance for a meeting, and we must open it with a tempting offer, just in case."

"Ah," Cenred turns back to the table, taps his finger on the wood a couple times as he surveyed the spread of goods. He chooses a cup from a knight' seat - Gwaine's, Arthur's head scream, and good knows if the knight is still alive to reclaim it one day - and pours himself from a pitcher. Rich dark wine fills the goblet to the brim. Agravaine rolls his eyes at the big mouthful the king takes. "And how exactly are we supposed to recognise this great wizard?" Cenred says, licking his lips from stray drops.

Agravaine's face twists in barely contained disgust. "Well, he's going to walk in here and demand the prince of Camelot's head for himself, for one. Morgana sent word through the grapevine, that the prize is his to claime. How hard can it be to discern him, then?"

"I was merely thinking about all the times I've seen Morgana disfigure herself into an old crone, or Morgause turn her own appearance into someone else's." Cenred's steps are measured and quiet as he walks the table's edge from the sides to the center, to where Agravaine waits in front of the seats of honor. "It seems disingenuous to assume that, what, he's going to be old and decrepit and wear robes and a white beard? A staff, perhaps? Maybe a raven on his shoulder too, for flavour?"

When Cenred stops, he's just at Arthur's side and looks down on him with a pensive look. The goblet is still in his hand, and the king takes another sip. Arthur strains against his bonds, but he just as successful as another piece of cattle auctioned in the market.

"With all due respect, milord, what are you insinuating?" Agravaine asks, though there's not much respect in his tone of voice.

"Indulge me in a bit of thought." Cenred turns suddenly from Arthur, stands right in front of Agravaine. "Say this wizard is not a fraud at all. Say he is the Emrys of legends, and say that the Catha, the druids, the water sprites and the fae - all those who refused our call were right and he is not happy about this whole matter at all-," he gestures once, wide, with the arm holding the cup to the bloodied room, the scenery outside the windows, the kneeling king at last, "-how are we to know that he's not going to simply walk in here disguised as, say, a soldier? A servant? A noble, perhaps; someone above all suspicions?"

"How dare you." Agravaine has stiffened, clearly at the end of his rope, turning away from Arthur to face the other king instead, where Cenred has moved to his side now. "You accuse me of being an imposter?! I have the lady Morgana's protective sigil right here with me!"

It strikes Arthur all of a sudden, now that he stares at Cenred's calculating profile as he faces off his uncle, that he'd never seen a man of royal blood stepping into a room silently, much less unnoticed. When the attack was started, Agravaine had been sitting at his side, had waited for the perfect moment to point a dagger at Guinevere's throat and force Arthur into stillness; but Cenred, he must have been outside leading the charge, must have been with his men, and he must have entered from the main doors right at Arthur's back, right in Agravaine's face.

Yet, no matter how much he thinks about it, Arthur cannot remember the exact moment when Cenred joined them.

Agravaine has pulled out what looks like a twisted rendition of a druidic rune, and holds it dangling from his hand for the king to examine. It is made of three twigs from petrified trees, tied in a triangular shape with animal sinew and smeared with a thick, heavy substance of dark brown shade, crystalised.

Cenred looks at it with an arched brow and picks it delicately between two fingers to turn it this and that way. "So this is why nothing worked," he says.

"What-"

Arthur sees them both only by the side but that is still enough to see Cenred's eye glow gold, a brief second before Agravaine's talisman breaks off the leather string in his hand. It falls right into the cup and the wine explodes in burst of flames.

Agravaine shouts and falls back two steps. The cup is left to drop on the floor, and Arthur watches it clang against the stone floor only to spill nothing but dark, dry ashes.

The doors open to let inside an endless stream of soldiers in Essetir's colors. Cenred points to Agravaine, "Treason! The snake du Bois turns on us! Seize him!"

It is a useless endeavour, Agravaine's attempt at swaying the soldiers by turning the accusations on the men's king. Arthur watches that knowledge dawn quickly on his uncle's face, and soon the man has a sword in hand and is fighting for his life.

Just as soon, he feels a tug on his shirt and he chokes into coughs as he's dragged to his feet. "Cover me," Cenred orders his men as they let him through. "This prisoner belongs to the High Priestess. Don't let the traitor get him!"

Arthur tries to see - wants to see - the moment Agravaine is overcome by the enemies, but he can only be dragged backwards so far before he starts losing his balance. When he's forced to turn to follow after his captor, he tries to understand what's happening by hearing alone. There is a lot of screeches of metal and grunts of men, but nothing more.

They are in the hallway in a second.

Cenred doesn't take him to the end of it. Instead, halfway through, he pushes against a tapestry on the wall and all but tosses Arthur through the servants door hidden behind.

He should fight, Arthur thinks distractedly; try to get free, at the very least. For what, though? The castle is overrun, he doesn't know where his knights are, his wife is still a prisoner. This man, whoever he might be underneath the face of Essetir's king, has taken him from Agravaine's hands and that is more help than he'd expected to receive, so soon after this last betrayal.

He also seems to know the layout of his castle almost better than Arthur himself. He takes turns without hesitation, navigates the labyrinth of the easement passages with ease, knows when to tread quietly for they are passing by occupied rooms and when to hurry in a quick run to gain advantage on those who must be looking for them.

At one point, Arthur hears Cenred's voice, but it is beyond a wall and it souds absolutely enraged.

This Cenred doesn't seem to notice, too focused ahead of himself.

Arthur hasn't truly used this passages in a long time - ever since he was a boy trying to evade his tutors -, but he figures out their path with the landmarks he can, until Cenred stops by a door and turns to meet his eyes with a mistrustful look. "This will be much easier if you have your hands free," he says, and Arthur tenses all muscles when he hears a horse's neigh. "Can I trust you not to stab me in the back?"

As efficiently as he'd gagged him, this Cenred frees his mouth. Arthur spits dust and saliva at his feet, and glares, but nods stiffly.

"Very reassuring." Still, the man walks around him. A sound of blade against leather, then blade against rope, then suddenly Arthur is free.

The temptation to turn and punch is strong, but he holds himself back. Instead, he grabs Cenred by the wrist when the man reaches for the door. "I can't leave," he declares. "My people-"

"What, you really think it's just peasants fighting out there?" The sorcerer shakes his head somewhat pityingly. The urge to punch him grows stronger. "Your knights never made it to the dungeons. They should have ensured a safe route for you and your queen, by now."

"Camelot-"

"-is lost. There is nothing you can do now. Go, find shelter and regroup. You have allies that will help you retake your throne, but you need to live to save your people from the shadow of Morgana's tyranny."

The man - Arthur thinks, for a second, he sees the dark eyes of Cenred turn blue before they flare in gold - makes a quick gesture of the hand, and several thuds sound off from behind the door. When he pushes it open, brazenly, Arthur finds six soldiers of Agravaine lying on the ground. Their horses, saddled and ready, huff at the new arrivals but none screeches in alarm; they just stand meekly where they are.

Bridles are offered to him. Arthur takes them hesitantly. "Go," he hears, from the back he watches running to the door of the stables. "I will try and help as I can, but you must be quick."

There is not much to say to that, so he climbs on the horse. Cenred grabs the handle of the stable doors and meets his eyes for a confirmation. "Is it true?" Arthur cannot help but ask. "Are you Emrys, and do you oppose Morgana?"

"What is it that's so hard to understand about hurry-" Cenred glares at him. "That is what the druids call me, and I less oppose Morgana than I serve you."

Something tugs at Arthur's chest, a boiling in his blood that smells like a battlefield after victory. "Why," he asks, even though something in his bones screams that it's true and right and owed to him, yes.

Cenred's whole face softens lightly, years shaved off him for a second. "Because you will be the greatest king of all, and I will do anything in my power to see it happen."

"Must be a lot of power, if you're such a great wizard."

"Technically, a warlock."

"Yet you cannot give me back my castle right now, because-?"

A flash of disbelief runs across the man's face, then it's Cenred's face again, twisted in annoyed mask. "Oh, just get going, you-"

He pulls the door open mid-sentence. Arthur sees the soldiers outside that stop on their tracks at the gesture, sees the recognition on their faces, and instinct takes over.

His heels find the horse's flanks and they are running, flying past Cenred as he gets shrouded in shadows, and they are in the courtyard, then past the inner gates, then past the middle ones. He's in the lower town faster than any regular animal oughts to be able to run and then, in a second he's surrounded by red.

Bright, rich, powerful, familiar red.

"Sire!" Leon shouts as he brings his horse up to Arthur's side. "This way."

Percival closes ranks behind them, shielding Arthur from any possible stray arrows aimed at his back. At the last gates, Elyan and Gwaine are fighting tooth and nails to keep Cenred's men from reaching the argans and raise the bridge. When they see their companions arriving, Elyan manages to get on his horse, grab Gwaine by an arm to pull him up as well, and they are all off.

They are on safe ground outside of Camelot when, with a creak, the iron bars of the gate come crashing down on their own, and the elevating bridge lifts of its own accord, closing all the way up in spite of the voices ordering to lower it down again.

Arthur's blood keeps pumping into his ears, making rumbles of his knights' voices, until they reach the forest edge and he sees it. A single horse, with a single knight in crimson cape, and sitting astride, still in the blue dress of the feast, Guinevere.

She shakes in her seat, but Lancelot is quicker and, rather than letting her jump down and run their way, he pushes his horse in a gallop to meet them.

Arthur is freezing and in shame. He dares not imagine how many bruises and cuts, how much blood, is on his person to make Guinevere - who has seen many a terrible thing - sob that way. He reaches a hand out and finds hers and the world settles in his skin again.

Camelot is not lost, the wind sings as it ruffles his hair. The earth growls in every thud of hoof against the forest floor, your rule doesn't end today. There is fire in his chest and it promises vengeance. For some reason, his mind keeps picturing lake waters for a safe rest.

"Are we all-" he cannot find it in himself, to finish the question.

Leon is prompt to answer nonetheless. "No, Sire. When we were freed from the dungeons, so were many others. We left all wounded and simple soldiers under Gaius' charge, to find a safe place to hide in the forest. They wait for us at the caves by Lake Avalon."

"Let's go, then." For a moment, he hesitates. Decades old fear clumps his throat with mud. He thinks, truly with belief, that he's going to let it die.

Then, he meets Lancelot's eyes above Guinevere's hair, and many a memory of loyalty, care and friendship submerge him. "When you split-" he asks, to all of them but to him above others, "-did you see...?"

Leon's horse huffs nervously under his rider's command. "Sire, it was chaos. It all happened so quickly, and our priority was you-"

"I saw him," Lancelot says. "Merlin was just ahead of us, with the soldiers of the front line. He was among those that broke free first. He joined Gaius in evacuating as many as possible, I'm sure."

Too sure. Too quick to reply. His horse uneasy under the clenching of his thighs.

Arthur nods, though he doesn't relax much. "Good," he says. To a degree, he might even mean it.

He's still thinking about it, though, as they run through the forest, in spite of the dark, headed to the lake.

About how the warlock got into the castle unnoticed, when the real Cenred was out there for all his people to see. How demurely he'd moved in the Hall, almost unnoticed even in plain sight. How all the serving passages had been known to him like the back of his hand.

He thinks of words spoken in the chaos of fight, a promise of greatness that rang true and well-known, repeated and committed to memory. He thinks that the last word the man spoke his way, the last address he used after my lord, sire and king, might have been another, much-used title of his.

A Cenred who was younger, a Cenred with blue eyes, glowering and scoffing and uttering, "prat."

If he's to be found, miracolously, among the refugees when no one else caught sight of hide or tail of him during the fight, Merlin - technically, his servant - will have some explaining to do that Arthur has all intention of drawing out of him.

Ooh, I like this! Arthur trying to be a good caretaker (but not always succeeding because he doesn't know what he's doing, but he's trying all the same) always hit me in the feels!

Sick fic except no one is sick.

Merlin is tired of the tavern excuse and at this point, Arthur doesn't really believe the 'gathering herbs' thing either anymore.

So, Merlin tells Arthur he's sick.

Except he didn't account for the fact that Arthur becomes a terrified worryward of a mess. Merlin, thinking he's got some time alone, is now chained to his bed with Arthur feeding him soup and 'checking his temperature', only that Arthur has no clue what he's doing.

Merlin on the other hand can only think of the assassin and.... 'Actually, this is nice.'

Baby Aithusa AND baby Merlin?! I cannot handle all of this cuteness! 😍

Full of Snausage!

(Inspired by this post)

Some days it really does feel like it's me and my 300 open ao3 tabs vs reality.