Gwen for the Free Square of my @merlinbingo card (which I used as a reference for this because I got new gouache paints and I love that image so much, so thank you to the mod who chose the background image.)
In a land where magic and tolerance florished-
Kilgharrah was young and hoarded the pride pillows.
Artist’s note:
I liked the sketch better tbh. However, here you have my contribution to the Pride Month, and another fill for @merlinbingo . I have a few alcohol markers I wanted to use again, and I know I should have used thicker paper. Deadline arrived somehow and thus I just made due. (Ok fine. I tuned it a tiny bit with sketchbook because I cut the egdes and scanner was a dummy and made it into a white background)Now I go back to studying stuff no one ever needs. *sigh*
I FINISHED MY FIRST @merlinbingo SQUARE, for C4, “undeserved reputation.” This was perfect because I've been meaning to do Taylor Swift/Morgana art forever. Anyway hooray!! More coming soon<3
Title: You taught me how to value life
About: Myror, the assassin paid to kill Arthur Pendragon (ep. 2x02)
Word count: 1,280
Dear Reader,
You probably remember the tournament in The Once and Future Queen. You probably remember Sir William of Deira. You might remember Arthur's infamous lack of cooking skills...
But do you remember Myror?
Do you remember the assassin who came to Camelot to kill the King's son? The one who was tasked to do so by a mourning father? The one who once bore the title of “Most feared assassin in all the known lands”?
Because I do.
This fic is written for @camelove2021 and @merlinbingo
Day 3: Wait... What? “It’s Wednesday” | Square C5: Myror
Characters: Lancelot, Merlin, Gaius, uther
Word Count: 1315
Warnings: none
Summary: Lancelot tries to find Platform 9 and 3/4's. He ends up with more than he bargained for, which doesn't seem all that bad, actually.
A/N: I'm not dead lmao, anyway this is a fill for @merlinbingo (M4 - Hogwarts AU) and lucky me, just in time to claim the AUgust bonus badge.
I need validation to live, so please lemme know what you think, here or on my AO3
The station was busy, much busier than Lancelot had expected for eight in the morning. People were boarding and disembarking, running alongside the tracks as far as the platform would allow as they waved goodbye, finding their luggage and giving the poor porters hell if they could not. No one spared him a second glance if they had even graced him with a first.
Lancelot was beginning to feel tired and rather dispirited. He had arrived promptly at seven, his social worker having dropped him off on her way to the office. She had not been able to stay and sent him on his way with the wise words of ‘ask a porter to help you find your platform’.
He had asked a porter and received an irritated ‘where are your parents, kid?’ in response. After the second and third porters had similarly sent him off having expressed similar sentiments Lancelot resigned himself to sitting on a bench and observing the people coming and going. If he was lucky maybe he would find someone who would be able to tell him where Platform Nine and Three Quarters was.
The minutes dragged on and soon Lancelot began to feel hungry. He was wondering if he had enough money to buy something to eat when a boy, who looked about his age, darted through the crowd heading straight for a very solid wall.
Lancelot reflexively winced as the boy made contact with the wall, then almost fell off the bench in surprise as the boy passed right through the wall. Confused, he looked around and found that nobody else seemed to have noticed anything. Curiosity flooded his system and he got off the bench, making sure to grab his backpack and suitcase.
Standing in front of the wall Lancelot looked it up and down frowning slightly. It seemed to be as solid as any other wall he had encountered. Hesitantly, he lifted a hand to place against the wall and started when instead of meeting rough brick his hand moved through the wall.
“Move, boy!” A gruff voice came from behind him, “Some of us don’t have all day.”
Startled, Lancelot yanked his hand back and turned around. There was a man looking at him with a mildly irritated expression.
“Now, Uther, no need to be so brash, it’s his first time here.”
The man’s - Uther’s- expression grew darker upon hearing the new voice.
“Gaius, how nice to see you again.”
“The pleasure is all mine, Uther. I know you’d love to stop and catch up, but you’re a busy man, so you’d best be on your way.”
Uther grimaced and Lancelot could have sworn he heard the man’s teeth grinding against each other. Then, without another word the man turned and strode through the wall.
“Go on, boy,” the old man - Gaius - smiled at him, “It’s perfectly safe, done it more times than I can remember.”
Lancelot swallowed nervously and turned to face the wall once again.
As if sensing his apprehension, Gaius spoke again, “Just close your eyes, take a deep breath and step through.”
Screwing his eyes shut, Lancelot stepped into the wall and only opened them again when someone tugged sharply on his arm.
“It’s you!”
The boy laughed, “Well, I don’t know who else I would be.”
“You ran through the wall.”
Having successfully maneuvered him away from the wall the boy let go of his arm, “You saw that? You’re observant .. most people don’t realise what’s going on right in front of them. Just, uh, don’t let my Uncle know you saw that. I’m Merlin, by the way, what’s your name?”
“Uh, Lancelot,” he held out his hand, “nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet ya!” Merlin took and very enthusiastically shook his hand. “Come on, we should be boarding soon and I wanna get a window seat and somewhere without people already there.”
“Merlin!” The sound of his name stopped the boy dead in his tracks, “What have I told you about running on the platform?”
“Sorry,” Merlin did not sound sorry, “I made a friend! Lance, come say hi to my uncle!”
Lance walked over at a more moderate pace.
“Good to see you again young Lance.” The man who had helped him was Merlin’s uncle.
“Good to see you again too, sir. And, uh, it’s Lancelot, oh and thank you for helping me before.”
“You can call me Gauis,” the man smiled, “I have a feeling I’ll be seeing a lot more of you in future. Merlin, I’m going now, do at least try to stay out of trouble and do not antagonise the Pendragon boy.”
“Me, get into trouble? I would never!”
“Merlin, I mean it.”
“Fiiinneee,” Merlin placed his hand over his heart, “I solemnly swear that I won’t be up to no good.”
Gaius sighed and ruffled the boy’s hair before turning to Lancelot, “I do hope my nephew does not cause too much trouble for you, Lancelot.”
With that the man leisurely walked into the crowd milling about the platform, pulling a trolley with several boxes stacked on it behind him.
Before Lancelot had time to process this latest interaction, Merlin was talking again, “Let’s get on the train now. That way we can find a good compartment. The porters here know me, so they’ll let us on without any trouble.”
Once again Lancelot felt himself being tugged along by the ebony haired boy who had apparently adopted him as a friend. Merlin looked completely at ease, weaving between the rushing bodies and occasionally waving to someone in the crowd.
True to his word, the porter let Merlin and Lancelot board the train without so much as batting an eye. Inside the train seemed bigger than it had from the outside, the wide walkway in-between the compartments stretching out for what felt like an unusually long distance.
Naturally, this did not phase Merlin in the slightest as he bounced down the carriage inspecting each compartment.
“Lance! I found the perfect one, come on!” Merlin poked his head out of a compartment, grinning.
Eyes wide, Lancelot stepped into the compartment and looked around. It was not the biggest one he had seen in the carriage, but the window was big and it was slightly hidden from the rest of the compartments. He imagined it would be quieter in here than in the other compartments, which he was glad of.
“So, what do ya think, Lance?”
“It’s, it’s nice. I think it’ll be quiet too,” Lancelot gave a small smile, “I like it.”
“Great!” Merlin dropped himself onto a seat and sprawled out as Lancelot tucked his suitcase under the opposite seat. “So what do you wanna do now, Lance?”
“I dunno...what is there to do here?”
“Nothing at the moment. We still got a while to wait and I don’t have my stuff with me now.”
Lancelot slowly slid down the seat until he was lying on it.
“You know any good stories?”
“I know some, dunno ‘f they’re any good though.”
“What kind of stories?”
“Adventure ones, mostly, like Robinson Crusoe.”
“What’s that?”
Lancelot lifted his head to look more directly at Merlin who was now sitting cross legged in the middle of the seat and staring at him curiously.
“You don’t know Robinson Crusoe?”
“Nope,” he popped the ‘p’, “What did he do?”
“Ah, okay, okay so he gets washed up on this island and has to survive..wait lemme tell you how he gets there.”
As he recounts the tale of Robinson Crusoe, Lancelot feels his apprehension fade away until its barely a whisper in the back of his mind. Merlin is the perfect audience. He loves the story and repays Lancelot with one about someone called Beedle the Bard and Lancelot feels that maybe, just maybe, this whole being a wizard thing won’t be so bad.
