G - Do you remember your first OTP, if so who was in it
I think I would probably have to say that was Louis/Lestat, although I didn’t really read fic for it due to reasons of Anne Rice in 1995 ;)
N - Name three things you wish you saw more in your main fandom (or a fandom of choice)
Already answered! But a somewhat lighter answer...
1. More thorki shippers and others who trufax love both Thor and Loki. Folks who are really only fans of one of them, that’s cool if that’s what floats somebody’s boat, but I love them both and that is a lonely place these days, seems like :( ok I fail at this “lighter answer” thing sry. trying again...
2. gah idk just... i wish things were less divided around here these days. fuck. i suck at this lighter answer stuff. ok ok ok one more try
3. More bottom!Thor :D? :D?
T - Do you have any hard and fast headcanons that you will die defending, about anything at all (gender identity, sexual or romantic orientation, extended family, sexual preferences like top/bottom/switch, relationship with poetry, seriously anything)
Oh man this is always such a tricky question for me. Because I’m sure I do have some, but there are a lot of things that I would initially say fall into this category but then just posing the question makes me want to see what would happen if it weren’t that way.
I guess, really minimally, neither Loki nor Thor are straight, but that’s a given, right? And Loki and Thor both love each other deeply, regardless of what else they feel. And... like, my internal sense of Thor always includes a certain earnestness and generosity and nobility of spirit, and my internal sense of Loki always includes a certain spark of cleverness and contrariness and... idk how to explain... a searching that keeps him from ever truly staying still. Those are the basics for me, I think.
foundlingmother replied to your post “I just had a thought. How long did it take from battle of New York...”
The only legit "to be fair" here is: To be fair, the writers probably didn't ever consider the full implication of the muzzle, so it's best if we don't think too much about it because it's super inhumane. Defending denying a person food, water, their voice, just treatment, etc. is weird. You don't have to defend the heroes because they're ficitional. Just say it's bad writing if you don't think the heroes would be that cruel. Like, seriously, there's no need to be like, "Thor knows what Loki can and cannot survive. That means it can't be cruelty of any sort." Thor's not actually on trial here. He's not being investigated. It's the framing of heroes and villains under scrutiny here, and the fact that people try and justify what the heroes do proves how powerful that frame can be.
Exactly! It’s a fair assessment saying it’s bad writing and they didn’t really think about it and this wasn’t the writers’ intent. It’s explaining the story from a real world perspective. A Doylist explanation and it’s totally valid. It can’t be defended from an in-universe/Watsonian point of view though. I’m ok with comments like “I don’t think they kept the muzzle on him the whole time” because not everyone know that it restricts his magic so the second they take it off Loki will escape. But I can’t understand defending the heroes with excuses like “Loki was probably fine because he’s an alien” or “Thor knows it doesn’t hurt him” and that makes it ok? And even these comments really don’t bother me. What bothers me are the comments that are absolutely hypocritical and I have no idea what to say them and I don’t find the mental energy in me to answer them. I just don’t understand how people can’t see the hypocrisy of their argument. They justify villainous/immoral/inhumane actions against villains but condemns the same actions against heroes. For my “The Silenced Silver Tongue” post I received comments like “Loki killed thousands/millions people and he isn’t human so human rights don’t apply to him” and one that totally baffled me was “I understood it like I understood why they had to cut Grindelwald’s tongue” and I was like what!??? I hate Grindelwald but they didn’t have to cut his tongue. In the same movie they showed a spell that could silence someone. So what they did(to another character) was pure torture. And people find it ok because it is done to a villain. And in this post one particular comment really left me speechless: “The Avengers did not kill Loki where he lay, even though they could have”. Like killing an enemy where he lays, defeated, without even threatening anyone and who is struggling to move because of pain, is not a heroic act. It’s what a villain would do. And if Avengers did it or even considered it, they wouldn’t be heroes at all. They don’t get brownie points from me for doing sth that’s basic morality. It’s one thing to defeat an enemy, and it’s another to kick someone when they’re down.
The only good thing about this, is that it gave me some angsty fic ideas which I may or may not add them to the pile of my unfinished fic ideas. Like I’d like to see a story where they can’t find a way around the Tessearct for Thor and Loki to go to Asgard and the situation really frustrates them because they can’t feed Loki and no needle can break his skin for an IV and they struggle with their guilty conscious because Loki looks more gaunt as days pass and someone(probably Bruce) finally says fuck it and takes the muzzle off of Loki. Or another scenario in which Hydra kidnaps Loki for their experiments and when the Avengers finally finds him and Thor sees Loki’s state he rips the damned thing off and starts apologizing to which Loki only laughs weakly and says these pathetic humans were creative but not competent. Both of the stories continue with Avengers and Loki bonding and friendship and finding about Thanos. The trope I love in Loki and Avengers fics :D
@foundlingmother replied to your photo “Thor Ragnarok: “Hey can I copy your homework?” Thor(2011): “Sure, but...”
Also copies some of TDW. People are like, "Ragnarok shows that Thor can outsmart Loki!" or "Ragnarok shows them acting like siblings!" The sequence of scenes where Thor and Loki are getting to the hangar and have their chat in the elevator is a cheap, mean-spirited rip off of the escape from Asgard and skiff chat. Thor had been shown to trick Loki in TDW and they'd acted very amusingly brotherly, while also being in character and the film not wholly siding with Thor.
Abso-fucking-lutely. Some of the more, er, intense Loki stans who have disliked Thor from the very beginning alleged that these instances of trickery in TDW were cruel or abusive: when Thor handcuffed Loki without warning, then unexpectedly pushed him out of the ship while he was handcuffed and didn’t know there was a skiff positioned below them. I don’t have a problem with either of those actions. Yeah, they’re a little vindictive, but we already knew that there’s tension between the brothers. The pushing out of the ship thing could even be seen as a bit of indirect revenge for Loki’s dropping Thor out of the helicarrier in The Avengers -- much milder, but in both cases, the perpetrator is perfectly aware that the target will not be significantly harmed (Loki knew that Mjolnir could break the glass of the cage, so Thor could get out before hitting the ground).
The “trickster tricked” gambit in Ragnarok is categorically different because Thor not only leaves Loki in horrific pain for an indefinite amount of time and tells him smugly that his fundamental nature is unworthy while relishing his agony, but leaves him vulnerable to being killed if the first person who comes along is unfriendly (and there were a lot more unfriendly than friendly people around). And you’re completely right about the difference between their conversation in the skiff in TDW (fondly known as the “bro-boat scene” and written by Joss Whedon) and in the elevator in TR. In TDW, Loki expresses concern for Thor in his indirect, taunting way; “You had her tricks, but I had her trust” is kind of a low blow, but Loki has a chance to retort just as harshly, and the conversation ends with a kind of detente, neither of them having gotten the better of the other. The elevator scene, by contrast, involves Thor saying things that are calculated to devastate Loki, manipulating him through “reverse psychology” while claiming -- not very convincingly, considering the “maybe there’s some good in you” line -- to be accepting him for who he is. Loki, meanwhile, is not given the opportunity to respond with his own perspective or show any kind of agency that subverts Thor’s expectations; he’s shown as predictable, easy to manipulate, and hence weak and kind of stupid.
The “get help” bit is also a mean-spirited, half-assed take on the (brilliant!) scene in TDW where Thor and Loki use Loki’s illusions to trick Malekith into pulling the Aether out of Jane. I totally fell for it the first time I saw it and thought Loki was actually betraying Thor again; I was delighted when it turned out to be an instance of the two of them coordinating in battle the way they used to, taking advantage of Loki’s unique skills and even his reputation for untrustworthiness. Even if it was Thor’s plan initially, he needed Loki’s wholehearted cooperation to make it work -- and he needed to place his trust in Loki to that extent. The example in Ragnarok of Thor and Loki coordinating the way they used to just involves Thor using Loki, not as an agent in his own right, but as a body -- an object -- against Loki’s will (a classic example of treating him, very un-Kantian-ly, as a mere means, not also an end in himself). As other people have noted, the movie also makes a point of having Loki -- the master planner from previous movies -- say he doesn’t have a better plan, again making him seem weak and kind of stupid.
So, let's brainstorm this Sleepover Saturday. What's in Loki's diary? I feel like he wouldn't reveal everything that happened to him, and I'm kind of imagining it being a bit of a disjointed stream of concious to reflect that Loki's mind is struggling to recall what's real and what's implanted due to the suggestions of Loki's torturers.
I definitely agree that it would be very stream-of-consciousness because Loki’s mind is very fragmented and his thoughts are probably coming in little broken bits. I feel like that might be something he’d mention, too - like, he doesn’t actually know what thoughts are his and what thoughts are Thanos’s, and maybe he expresses genuine distress over that.
And I think that, rather than reveal everything that happened to him, bits and pieces of it would come through kind of nonsensically - that is, if Thor had read the diary at the time, he wouldn’t be able to make sense of it, but post-Thanos, he’d understand. References to “him” or “the Titan” or how Loki cannot fail, no matter what the cost. References to pain and torture, without going into detail.
Maybe even a few clues would slip through that prove Loki wasn’t in charge of this plan - he’d say something like how he’d rather slip in quietly, influence world leaders’ minds, take his time to infiltrate governments, etc. “But this is how he wants it. He knows best.” Deferring to someone else’s superiority even though that’s not necessarily in Loki’s character, especially if it’s a bad plan and Loki knows it.
And mixed emotions about Thor, too - how he loves Thor and hates him, how he wants to kill Thor but can’t live without him, just rambling nonsensical things that reveal Loki’s conflict regarding Thor. Maybe his mixed emotions, too, about ruling Earth even though he doesn’t even want to rule, and not Earth, but he needs to feel powerful, he needs to feel that he can control something in his life, he needs to take back what he feels he lost when he was betrayed and rejected by Asgard.
I got a little carried away, but, yeah, I think Loki’s diary would be incredibly revealing to his state of mind, in a way that isn’t immediately obvious but Thor would understand later. Understand, and grieve all over again. Because angst.
foundlingmother replied to your post “Too many times do I see fans of fans of “defend” their faves against...”
But like I just wish we as a fandom didn't feel the need to police how other people fandom. You know? I mean, I just don't get why anyone needs to admit their fav is problematic. Like, whatever. Stans don't irritate me from a storytelling perspective cause I love flaws and conflict, but I'll let them do their thing if they're not being assholes to other fans.
To be clear, what I’m trying to say is not that people must “admit their favorite is problematic,” but rather - perhaps - when people are confronted with any kind of criticism of their favorites in any context, don’t lose their shit and begin attacking literally any other fans within reach who are just going about their business, enjoying their favorites. Like, in that context you can either accept that your favorites have flaws that other people are going to pick up on and talk about or do... whatever it is that these stans are doing for just the drama of it all.
goin with the whumptober thor whump fic for thiss!
in the final chapter, iirc, loki is gonna have a conversation with a healer where he strongly implies his brother was raped against his brother’s wishes, which will lead to so much angst between them heh XD
I don't know if you want a more specific request for BBC Merlin fics, but I'm always down for a good magic revealed fic if you have any ideas on that? Preferably not one where Arthur's just like, "Oh, that's cool Merlin! I love sorcerers!" Please and thank you? :)
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In the aftermath of Nimueh, it happens.
Merlin is joyous as he andGaius return to Camelot, both of them on horseback, and although it weighs onhim, somewhat, to have killed Nimueh and done it so easily… It isn’t that hefeels guilty, because he doesn’t, and he doesn’t think he ever could feelguilty for it, just like he couldn’t feel guilty for killing a monster about tokill somebody, or killing a bandit or a thief that’d kill Arthur.
It’s just that—
It was so easy.
He’d felt so determined whenhe’d risen up from the ground, his own charred skin and the burn of his tunicfilling his nostrils, the wound she’d left when she’d thrown his power back athim eating at his sternum, and it had come to him in the flash ofunderstanding, of inspiration, that magic so often does.
You are a creature of magic, some unseen voice remindshim, in a voice that isn’t a voice: it whispers across his mind and it tastesof truth, and he wonders what it means, to be a creature of magic, like theDragon… The Dragon, who was willing to let his mother die, and not care, andthe Dragon, who he’ll never let go, never. If he’s a creature of magic, does that make himlike the Dragon? Monstrous?
The lightning hadn’t justcharred Nimueh’s skin or burned her: it had calcified her into something almostlike stone, and when she’d burst outward in a cloud of ash and chips of grit,he’d felt nothing but satisfaction.
“Gaius,” Merlin says quietly,as the outer walls of Camelot come into view on the crest of thehorizon. “Do you think it’s—” He trails off, and he thinks for a secondabout what Gwen had said about killing Uther. It would be murder, she’d said, even hating him, even after he’dkilled her father, and Nimueh had killed a lot of people, but hasn’t Uther,too? “Do you think it’s murder, what I just did?”
“Why?” Gaius asks. “Do you feel guilty?”
“No,” Merlin says. “Butif it is murder, and I don’t feel guilty, I think that’s probably worse. Don’tyou?” Gaius thinks for a few moments, his jaw set and his expression thoughtfulas he looks out at the path before them. When he speaks, it’s delicately andwith a very careful tone.
“I don’t think it’s murder,no,” he murmurs, and he exhales before he continues, “You know, Merlin,sometimes we must see those die, who would do us harm, who would do othersharm.”
“But not Uther,” Merlin says,with the slightest bitterness he can’t quite hold back.
“Arthur,” Gaius begins in alow-suffering tone, and Merlin nods his head.
“Yeah, I know, I— I heard you,before. He’s not ready to be king.” Merlin shifts his grip slightly on thereins, and he feels a strange feeling thick in his chest. He’s excited to getback home, to see his mother healed and safe in her bed, and he’s excited to beback in Camelot, but not to go back into the castle. Not that he doesn’t wantto work - he’s willing to work. Not that he doesn’t want to be back within thesafety of the castle walls, but… Their destinies are entwinedtogether. “I wish I could tell him what just happened. That I saved him,that… Sometimes, I feel like he looks right through me.”
“You’re his friend,” Gaius says softly. “Hecares for you, and he appreciates your loyalty.”
“He appreciates a servant thatwon’t leave no matter how badly he treats him,” Merlin mutters.
“Too good for being a servantnow, are you?” Gaius asks, and Merlin sighs, running a hand through his hairand leaning back on the horse, shifting his position slightly. “No, I knowthat that’s not it. But, Merlin, to tell him what you are… You would doomyourself. I would not see you executed for the sake of your pride.”
“No,” Merlinmutters. “Nor would I.” When they arrive at the gates of Camelot, it isMerlin that takes the horses to the stable, telling Gaius to walk up to thecastle to check on his mother first, and when Merlin comes home, he all butdives into her arms. Every pustule has come away from her skin, and she’s tiredand pale, but well.
Merlin falls asleep with hishead in her lap and her hands in his hair, and when he wakes up, he entertainsher with a swirl of glistening magic that hovers on the air.
☩ ♕ ☩ ♕☩
It leaves him distracted, holed up with his motherand with Gaius: sitting on the edge of the bed, his legs crossed, he shows offhis magic for her like he used to do, when he was only young. Coaxing up embersfrom the fire, he sets them to dance on the air, and he conjures a dragon thatflies on the air and then dives down to devour a sheep made of the same light;he makes a princess and a suitor that dance on the air; he makes a boat that sailson rolling waves, and then bursts into stars.
Gaius smiles at him, praiseshim on the delicacy of his form, and there’s so much sadness in his eyes -Merlin almost imagines him saying it, although Gaius doesn’t dare actually voice it. “I wish you could do that forArthur,” the look in his eyes says. “I wish everyone could see you do that.”
And even though Gaius doesn’tsay it, he’s bold and thoughtless and stupid in the next few days, out riding withArthur, when he’s hunting in the forest. Merlin’s never understood hunting, andin the aftermath of what happened with the unicorn, he understands it evenless, killing some defenceless creature just because you can. He doesn’tunderstand how a man can be so cruel, or want to lean into pointless killing.
Merlin doesn’t think about it,and it’s stupid, he’s stupid, but he has to act fast. It’s a break in the rockthat does it: as the knights are all camped around the fire, and Arthur iswalking with Merlin as he looks for rosemary in the undergrowth.
It’s just one man.
He catches Arthur by surprise,knocks him over the head - he doesn’t see Merlin because Merlin is crouched onhis knees, and Merlin doesn’t think, doesn’t wait to see if Arthur is reallyunconscious.
“Move,” he whispers in the old tongue, and he wieldsArthur’s sword with as much ease as anything, brings the hilt of it down hard on theguy’s head, to knock him out… He topples like a sack of bricks, and Merlincalls, “Knights! Knights! Here!”
And sees too late that Arthuris wide awake, his elbows back in the dirt, his eyes focused on Merlin.
Merlin’s blood runs cold, butthe knights come, and Arthur doesn’t say a word. Merlin looks at the bruise onthe back of his head, and Arthur doesn’t say anything to him or the knights -he doesn’t talk at all. Arthur doesn’t say a word to anybody until they comeback toward the castle.
Merlin studies his face, feelsthe real and genuine fear in his chest as they ascend the stairs and come intoArthur’s quarters, and he puts Arthur’s riding clothes away, sets his bag onthe shelf. It’s started to rain outside - started just as they came into thecastle - and Merlin looks at Arthur’s reflection in the pane of thewater-streaked window, at Arthur’s stiff-lipped expression.
He expects him to break thesilence as soon as the door is closed behind them, but he doesn’t. The silencegoes on and on, swelling like the ocean before a wave, until Merlinsays, “Do you want me to fetch your dinner, sire?”
It’s the first words he speaksto Arthur, the first he dares to say: with the silence broken, Arthur looks atMerlin, his blue eyes dark and shining with some deep, new incomprehension.
“How many times have you savedmy life?” he asks, soberly.
“Once or twice,” Merlin says,very slowly.
“Not the times I know about,”Arthur says immediately, his voice sharp and abruptly biting. “Not— Notthose times. How many times, Merlin, have you saved my life? The real number,the true number.”
“I don’t know what you mean, sire,” Merlin says, feelinghis voice falter, and Arthur slams his palm down so hard against the table topthat the whole thing rattles, two of the candle holders shaking in their place,and a metal mug falling to the ground.
The clatter echoes in thequiet of the room.
“Don’t lie to me,” Arthursays, his voice thick, and he looks like he might burst into tears, his cheeksred, his eyes shining even more. “Don’t you dare. Tell me. Becausethat— That wasn’t the first time, I know that that wasn’t… That can’t havebeen the first time. How many times have you done that, when I haven’t seen itcoming?”
Merlin looks down at his boots.
How many times has he waitedfor this moment, and prayed it would come? How many times has he wished,desperately, that it would come out all of a sudden, and Arthur would get it,and Arthur would forgive him, and everything would be fine, how many times…?
This isn’t like it’s been inhis daydreams.
Arthur is staring at him, withso much horror on his face, so much desperation, and Merlin cannot standit.
“That’s why I came toCamelot,” Merlin says softly, his voice barely more of a whisper: his voice isthick too, and he feels like he might start crying. He’s just so tired, and sodesperate, and so terrified he can feel his heart beating in the back of histhroat. “You asked me, in Ealdor, why I came to Camelot, and that is why,Arthur, because I have magic.”
“Why Camelot?” Arthur asks,his voice harsh and barely under control. “Why come here, and not gosomewhere else?”
“My mother thought a citywould be better for me, than the village. She thought maybe I could findsomeone else like me, and I…” He thinks of Gaius, and his mouth isdry. “I haven’t found anyone. It’s… But it’s part of me, you know. Idon’t hurt anyone, Arthur, I’ve never hurt anyone except to protect you, toprotect anyone—”
Arthur is breathing heavily, looking not atMerlin, but instead into the middle distance, and Merlin takes a step forward,saying, “Arthur, I know that your father says that magic is…”
“When I was sick,” Arthurwhispers. “Just— Just days ago, I was in a coma, and all of you thoughtthat I would die, that it was inevitable… Did you do something? Did you— Wasit magic, that helped me?”
“Magic has helped you so many times,” Merlin says,looking at him with his hands clenched at his sides. “So many times,Arthur, I’ve helped you, and…” He’s rehearsed it in his head, how he’d say itif Arthur ever found out.
Our destinies are entwined,one speech begins, before it trails off into oblivion. I was told of a prophecy, andit mentioned me and you, starts another, and then the words run out. I would give my life for you,Arthur, readily and willingly, and according to this big old dragon under thecastle, begins another, and that one is… probably the worst. “AndI’d never hurt you. I’d never hurt anyone. Remember Anahora, and the unicorns,the qu— the tasks, that you had to complete? I would have died for you, youknow that I would have. And I know that you are kind, and noble, and that youshow mercy, and what you have to understand is that magic—”
“You’re right,” Arthur says. There’s heavy emotionin his voice, but also a stiffness, an iron-hard composure, that hadn’t beenthere before. “I am merciful.”
Merlin feels himself sag inrelief.
“I’ll explain from thebeginning,” Merlin says, but Arthur holds up his hand.
“From this moment forward, youare relieved of your duties as my servant,” Arthur says. “Your last wageswill be given to you as normal at the end of the week, and I will inform thesteward that you wish to focus on your duties as Gaius’ apprentice.”
Merlin stands very still, hislips parted, and he stares at Arthur, his eyes wide. His blood isn’t cold, now- it feels like it’s not even moving in his veins, and he can barely feel hisheart beating, can barely stand to breathe.
“And if I ever hear,” Arthursays, “from anybody, that you’ve used magic in public, or to hurtsomeone… I will have you executed, like so many sorcerers before you.”
“Arthur,” Merlin says, andArthur bows his head to keep from meeting Merlin’s gaze.
“Get out,” Arthur says, andMerlin heaves in a breath, and he runs. He doesn’t remember, later on, actually passingby the different corridors in the castle or leaving out toward Gaius’ cottage -all he remembers is the pound of his feet on stone and then on the wet groundoutside, the soak of the rain in his hair and his clothes, the way Gaius putshis arms awkwardly around Merlin’s body when Merlin lets himself sob, and wishes thathis mother had stayed one more day instead of going back to Ealdor yesterday,because he wants her here, wants her—
“What happened?” Gaius says, but Merlin isinsensible, can only sob and feel like a child for crying, like he’s just alittle boy, and it’s so stupid, so stupid, and it’s his fault for not being morecareful and not thinking—
“He saw me,” Merlin chokes out. “He saw me…And he let me go.”
“Oh, Merlin,” Gaius whispers,and Merlin cries until he can’t cry anymore.
☩ ♕ ☩ ♕☩
“Teach me more anatomy,” Merlin says the next morning,when he has risen from dark dreams and ill-gotten sleep, and Gaius glances upfrom the book he is reading, staring at him. Merlin stands in the doorway, andhe knows from the look of his reflection in his wash basin that his eyes arered-rimmed and with heavy, grey-purple bags underneath him; his lips arechapped; he’s pale.
“You should rest,” Gaius saysquietly.
“I’ve rested enough,” Merlinsays, and he sits down heavily at the bench across from Gaius, rubbing hard athis eyes. “Teach me.” He can see the reluctance and the uncertainty in theold man’s face, see his hesitation, but then he slowly sets the book aside,nods his head, and he goes for his books on anatomy.
The lesson is long, and hard, and boring, andMerlin is grateful for every second of it.
It distracts him from thinking, from panickingabout whether Arthur will change his mind and turn him in, from wondering ifArthur will ever speak to him again, even worrying about how he will fill hisdestiny, if Arthur will never speak to him again.
When Gaius finishes the lesson, he reads throughthe chapters they’d gone over again and again, drilling them into his head, andwhen Gaius makes his rounds of the city, he goes with him, passing him theright things from his box of supplies, comforting family members as Gaiustreats his patients.
“You’re not angry?” Gaius asks as they come backinto the house, when the sun is beginning to sink down below the horizon, andMerlin begins to eat stew on the fire. “To have lost your work in the castle?”Merlin shrugs his shoulders, looking down at the pan instead of turning back tolook at Gaius.
“No,” Merlin says. “It wasn’t that much moneyanyway, and I barely ever bought anything with it, except books, now and then.”
“That isn’t what I meant,” Gaius says.
“I know,” Merlin replies. He hears Gaius sighsoftly, but he doesn’t argue with him, doesn’t ask any more questions, andMerlin spends the evening, after they’ve eaten, practising spells in the quietof his bedroom. He has always practised nightly – this is no different.
(Except thatit is different, isn’t it?
Becauseusually, he wouldn’t have quite so much time to practise – he would bepolishing Arthur’s shoes, and setting up his clothes for the next morning, anddousing the candle as he left Arthur to sleep in his bed. And Arthur wouldsleep so soundly on his comfortable mattress, on his soft pillow, the handsomeplanes of his face neatly shadowed by the moonlight from the window, andsometimes, Merlin would hover for a second as he finished up his work in Arthur’squarters, and watch him sleep, before he came home to study.)
☩♕ ☩ ♕ ☩
Merlin.
The voice wakes him in the dead of night, andMerlin sits up straight, hearing the voice echo through his rib cage and on theinside of his skull, ringing through him like the peal of a bell he’s standingtoo close to. He knows that voice, knows its rich and sonorous tone, and theway it echoes whether he hears it in his mind or in his ears.
Merlin. Merlin!
No, Merlinreplies, forcing his voice to radiate outward from his chest with a burst ofmagic. No.
Merlin! the Dragon calls in hismind, and Merlin rolls over, wrapping the pillow tightly around his head andpressing it against his ears, but it makes no difference at all. The words arecoming into his head, after all, not coming into his ears.
He is up the whole night, and an hour before dawn,he finally relents, standing up from his bed and moving sleep-deprived throughthe hall beneath the castle, a torch in his hand as he rapidly descends thestairs. He stumbles when he comes into the great caverns beneath Camelot, and hesends a stone whistling down into the depths.
“You are unsteady on your feet, young warlock.”
“Well, that happens to humans when you don’t letus sleep,” Merlin snaps, rubbing his hand hard at his eye. “I told you. I’m notinterested in your advice anymore, or your help – you don’t care about me, youjust care about my magic.”
“You practised your spells for so long tonight,”the Dragon says, his voice quiet, and sly. “For many hours…”
“Arthur found out I’m a sorcerer,” Merlin says. “Hewon’t speak to me. Are you happy now?” The Dragon leans forward, and Merlinbreathes in as he comes in close enough that Merlin can see the reflection ofhis face in one of his big, yellow eyes, close enough that he can feel the heatthat radiates from his snout and from the hard scales on his nose and jaw.
“It was foretold,” the Dragon says smugly. “All iswell.”
Merlin can’t help the desperate thrum of hope thatvibrates in his chest, and he looks the Dragon in the eye, his lips parted. He’sbreathing heavily, and his heart is beating a little bit faster in his chest.
“What do you mean?” Merlin asks, slowly.
“It was foretold,” the Dragon repeats, leaningback. “This is as it should be.”
“You mean he’ll forgive me?” Merlin asks, hisvoice coming out rapid and quick and clumsy from his mouth. “You mean that he’lllet me back into the—”
“You are no servant, boy,” the Dragon says, in atone of satisfaction. “This was inevitable, and will bode well for youreducation.”
“I told you I’d never let you go,” Merlin says.
“You will,” the Dragon decides. Merlin opens hismouth to reply, to say that he won’t, not ever, but the dragon spreads out hiswings and gives one mighty beat of them, the wind off them punching Merlin backfrom his place at the edge of the outcrop of stone and blowing out his torch,leaving him in the darkness, flat on his arse.
The Dragon flies into the depths of the cavern,his chains clinking as he moves, and Merlin crawls up the stairs.
“Please don’twake me,” he writes on a piece of parchment that he pins to his door. “Couldn’t sleep last night.”
Gaius lets him sleep until noon.
☩♕ ☩ ♕ ☩
“Where is Gaius?” Uther asks as Merlin hands overthe medicine for the old wound in his shoulder. He doesn’t look at Merlin as hespeaks, and instead he focuses on the bottle in his hand, reading the neatlyprinted label Gaius had written on it.
“I’m sorry, sire,” Merlin says, “he’s outside of Camelotat the moment – he had to ride out to Gort, to the East? Their alderman is verysick, and since he’s the village physician, there was no one else to help.” Uthernods his head, and he sets the bottle neatly on the table beside him. His handsbehind his back, Merlin takes a neat step back from the king, and his skinfeels too tight with fear, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. Heknows that if Uther knew, if Arthur had told him, that he already would havesaid something, that he would have had Merlin shackled in irons and burned atthe stake or whatever, but still the fear lingers and bubbles under his skin.
“Arthur says you’ve taken your leave of yourservice to him,” Uther says, conversationally.
“I’m grateful for Arthur’s employment, yourmajesty, but— It was a lot to juggle, both his work and what Gaius gives me,and… Without meaning to, um, to imply that working for Arthur isn’t important,sire, I thought I would serve the court better if I was putting in my earnestas Gaius’ apprentice.” Uther raises his head, and he looks at Merlin for thelongest few seconds – he never usually talks to Merlin if he can help it, andthe scant words he says are usually short demands or insults, but now… Merlindoesn’t know if he imagines it, but he does think that Uther is looking at himdifferently, his chin a little bit higher as he examines Merlin, more respect,maybe, in his face.
“Serving boys are not hard to find,” Uther says, “buta skilled physician is priceless. I have told the steward that I will be augmentingGaius’ wage in accordance with a full-time apprentice on his hands. You shallhave the allowance you had whilst on the castle staff.” He almost throws thewords out, and Merlin gets the feeling that he doesn’t even care, that itbarely gives him pause to put money in Merlin’s coffers even though he isn’tserving the prince anymore.
“Thank you, your majesty,” Merlin says, giving aneat bow of his head and bending his knee slightly.
Is that all it took, to gain the respect of theking, from the beginning?
“Mmm,” Uther hums uncaringly, waving his hand, andMerlin walks swiftly from the hall. As he walks into the corridor outside, henearly walks into Arthur, and he stands very still for a moment. Arthur meetshis gaze.
“What were you doing in the throne hall?” Arthurdemands. For a moment, Merlin keeps his gaze entirely neutral, fixing his stareon Arthur’s and challenging him to look away, his lips pressed together.
“I was giving the king his prescription fromGaius, your highness,” Merlin says crisply, arching one eyebrow in sardonic expectation.“For the injury in his shoulder. Gaius is abroad in Gort, some day’s ride away.”
“Oh,” Arthur says, leaning back on his heelsslightly, and for a moment he opens his mouth, as if he’s about to saysomething, but then he closes it, and he puts his head down. “Right,” he says,and he walks past Merlin, into the throne room.
All will bewell, the Dragon had said. This is asit should be.
Merlin makes his way back to Gaius’ cottage, andhe puts himself to bed.
foundlingmother replied to your post: I am fucking sick and tired of people trashing...
I remember seeing this with Nebula vs. Loki once, and that’s even more wild to me considering that Nebula and Loki have very similar criminal records without being mind controlled. But the person still trashed Loki.
nobody better pit my two younger sibling inferiority complex faves against each other!!! (I know you’re not, responding to op)
all I get from this is that some people are really dedicated to trashing Loki, which...yeah, I did know that. but still disappointing.
