#merlinmellark

[merlinmellark]

Two sides of a coin,  Forged together for all time.  A red string of fate,  Loathe to separate.  A king and his lifeline. - merlinmellark, 2025

[merlinmellark]

"It's lonely. To be more powerful than any man you know and have to live like a shadow."

day 7 prompt: BURDEN for: @25daysofmerthur

[merlinmellark]

Fair

“You’re cheating, Merlin!” Arthur scolded, swinging his sword in an arc high above his head before bringing it down on his servant. “Stop using your magic!” 

A few months prior, when Merlin had anxiously revealed his magic to Arthur, the prince had initially reacted harshly: demanding to know why Merlin had concealed this information from him for so long. But then his face had softened and he had reminded Merlin of how dangerous it was for a creature of magic to be dwelling within the walls of Uther’s Camelot. Nevertheless, after some grumbling, he had promised to keep Merlin’s secret on the condition that he only use it when it was absolutely necessary (which also translated as only with Arthur’s permission), and to always keep him in the loop of what was going on in regard to any magical threats to the kingdom. 

‘My father may not approve of magic, but that doesn’t mean we can’t utilise it when needed.’ Arthur had explained, Merlin nodding his head in eager agreement, grateful that the prince hadn’t looked down on him and cast him away. He had hoped that this development in their relationship would generate some sort of mutual respect between the two of them, and that Arthur would view him as something slightly more valuable than just a servant. Sadly he had been wrong. The only thing that had changed was that Arthur now used his knowledge of Merlin’s magic as a form of teasing and torture as often as he could. Which, as it turned out, was very often indeed. 

“I’m not, I promise!” Merlin yelped, expertly dodging the blade Arthur brought down on him once again, if only by a hair’s breadth.

Arthur had preferred to train out on the edges of the forest recently – something about it being easier to concentrate away from the loud brawliness of the other knights. As Arthur’s simple servant, Merlin had had no other option but to assist him, lugging the sword training equipment along behind him as they went. 

“Good, because I’ll put you in the stocks myself if you are.” Arthur quipped as Merlin blocked one of his more aggressive blows with a battered wooden practice shield. Merlin was panting, his entire body weary from exertion. In a moment of credence, Merlin raised his own sword, which sharp-eyed Arthur reacted to immediately, meeting the strike with his own. Their blades clashed together, the firmness of it sending vibrations shivering down Merlin’s arm. Unfortunately for Arthur, his block came at an awkward angle – which Merlin took advantage of. Using the last dregs of his strength, he pressed down hard on his sword, forcing Arthur’s wrist to twist until his sword slipped from his grasp and tumbled to the ground. 

Arthur let out an indignant noise and glared at Merlin. “I knew it!” He spat, red in the face. “You are cheating.” 

“What?” Merlin barked, watching in outrage as Arthur stooped to the ground to collect his disarmed sword. “Oh, c’mon, Arthur! I won that fair and square.” 

“You’re lucky we’re out here and not on the training field.” Arthur carried on, but there was a flicker of something light in his voice, indicating to Merlin that perhaps he wasn’t being as serious as he’d initially intended. “You know, if my father saw you using magic as powerful as that, Merlin, he would have you hanged." A playful atmosphere sprung into the air between them as Arthur grinned wolfishly, lifting his sword once again and returning to a fighting stance. 

Merlin narrowed his eyes and steadied his own feet. “I already told you,” he said with a grin of his own. “I’m not using my magic. I’m just that good.” 

Arthur threw his head back to let out a laugh, and Merlin took the moment to rush forward, hunching behind his shield and using it to bash into the centre of Arthur’s chest. The force of it sent the two of them crashing roughly to the packed earth. 

Merlin lay on top of Arthur, his face just peeking over the top of his shield. “There, what did I say!” He cried, smugly. “Just. That. Good.” 

Arthur was breathing quickly and heavily underneath him, and suddenly Merlin was all too aware of how close they were, how certain parts of their bodies were pressed up against each other in a way that was surprisingly not that unpleasant. Something blazed between the two of them, and Merlin couldn’t resist studying the prince’s face. His blonde hair was tousled, hanging over blue eyes that twinkled with something Merlin struggled to interpret. The sight of the prince of Camelot pinned underneath him sent a hot flush searing across his cheekbones. 

“Okay, okay!” Arthur chuckled a little raspily, clearly unaware of the effects he was having on his servant. He good-naturedly slapped the top of Merlin’s bicep, his words laced with a softness that tickled along Merlin’s jaw when he spoke. “You won, fair and square. Now get off me. I’ve got a cramp in my leg.” 

[842 words]

day 17 prompt: fair for @merlinktober

psst: my AO3!!

[merlinmellark]

Summon

Arthur liked to think of himself as a kind prince, a respectful prince who only did what was right for his kingdom and his people. So naturally, he was against the premise of stealing. Nevertheless, Arthur had had to summon a mighty amount of willpower not to shuffle closer to Merlin just so that he could steal some of his warmth. 

They were sharing a bed, you see. Not by choice, Arthur would like to point out. They had been on a long day’s hunt for pheasants, but had been caught off guard by an unexpected storm that had kicked up, forcing the two of them to seek shelter in a nearby village. 

“It is not much, my lord.” The head of the village had apologised, showing Merlin and Arthur to the small room that held the only bed in his humble house, wringing his straw hat in front of him. “But you and your servant are more than welcome to use it. My house is your house.” 

And he hadn’t been lying, the room wasn’t much: just barely big enough to fit the rickety narrow bed. It quickly became apparent that Merlin wasn’t going to be able to place his bedroll down on the floor. Arthur had grunted in acknowledgement when Merlin had glumly pointed this out.

“We’ll just have to share.” He had quipped, and noticed with intrigue at the way Merlin’s body went a little rigid at his words. 

“I can find somewhere else to sleep.” Merlin offered, unable to meet Arthur’s eye. “I’m sure someone else–”

“No.” Arthur said, and inwardly cringed a little at how quick he was to cut Merlin’s suggestion off. “No, it would be rude to bother anyone else. It’s bad enough that we’ve taken this man’s bed for the night. I don’t want to inconvenience anyone else. Just… just get in the bed, already.” 

So here they were, lying side by side, arms crossed around themselves and shivering down to their bones. 

“Merlin.” Arthur hissed into the darkness. 

“Hmph?”

“You don’t half squirm around.” 

“Hmph.” 

Their shoulders were pressed against each other, and Arthur was trying to distract himself from how nice it felt to have Merlin’s warm body beside him. 

The wind billowed through the cracks in the wooden walls of the house. Arthur counted the seconds that passed. 

“Merlin!” He snapped when Merlin started shifting underneath the scratchy blankets again. 

“I can’t help it, sire.” Merlin complained, turning his head to face Arthur. “I can’t get comfortable.” 

“You don’t have to be comfortable,” Arthur sneered, rolling his eyes. “You just have to lie there and fall asleep.” 

“Easier said than done.” Merlin replied under his breath, and the pout was evident in his voice as he turned his head in the opposite direction. 

He said nothing in reply, but Arthur silently agreed. 

Another hour or so drifted past, time moving agonisingly slow as the wind and rain continued to batter the sides of the small house, a drought sneaking into the room, collecting at the bottom of the bed and biting at Arthur’s toes. 

It irritated Arthur to hear Merlin’s soft snores leaking into the room. 

He’s only skin and bone! Arthur thought to himself spitefully, Surely he must be colder than me.

But the heat that radiated off of Merlin said otherwise. Arthur nibbled at his bottom lip for a contemplative moment, wondering just how deeply Merlin was asleep, and if he would notice if Arthur were to ever so slightly shift closer to him… 

Just for warmth. Obviously. 

But before Arthur could make a decision on whether or not he should shift himself closer, Merlin was turning onto his side to face the prince. His snores ceased for a moment, and Arthur held his breath, his eyes unblinking. But after another half a second, his servant started to softly snore once again, and Arthur slowly let out the breath he was holding. He was definitely nowhere near sleep now as he let his eyes roam Merlin’s face. He was so much less annoying when he was asleep, Arthur realised, and then caught himself smiling fondly. Not only did he have to continue to summon the willpower not to move closer to his servant, but he also had to summon the willpower to prevent himself from reaching out to brush a stray lock of Merlin’s dark fringe away from his forehead.

[733 words]

day 21 prompt: summon for @merlinktober

[merlinmellark]

Goodbye - Biffy Clyro

video version available here

[merlinmellark]

Devotion

[49 words]

prompt: devotion for @merthurmicrofic

text version under the cut

Some days it slips away from me,  The truth that you are gone.  A thousand years I’ve been alone,  When will you come back home? My heart, it aches for your return,  It streams just like a glen.  The waiting is what hurts the most,  The never knowing when.

This took an unholy amount of time to write - poetry is NOT my strong suit 

[merlinmellark]

day 9 prompt: TRUTH for: @25daysofmerthur

what do you mean this didn't happen in the show?? whaaat? of course it did...

[merlinmellark]

Alabaster

One peaceful spring, a rich noble from across the lands visited Camelot. With him, he brought along a sculptor who, during the visit, fashioned an oval alabaster medallion with a portrait of King Arthur carved into it. It was just a little bigger than the length of your hand, but it was magnificent, the light bouncing spectacularly off its glossy surface. Arthur had gracefully accepted the gift at the time, but had later confided in Merlin, complaining that, “it doesn’t look a speck like me.” But Merlin had to silently disagree. He had marvelled at the way the sculptor had so accurately been able to capture the detail in the king’s strong brow and the slight crook in his nose. 

Many years have passed since then, and time has cruelly slipped away from Merlin. After Arthur, the rest of his loved ones had eventually died out, unable to escape the claws of death. A small part of Merlin’s sanity was stolen away from him each and every time their bones were put in the ground, left to decay alongside the fallen bricks of Camelot. During his many lonely years on this planet, he has always made sure that that alabaster medallion was safe. To this day, he keeps it protected in a velvet pouch and only takes it out when he needs it the most, when his memory of Arthur’s face begins to fade, scaring him beyond all reasoning. During these times, he runs the pad of his thumb over the carving, as if by memorising each little nook and cranny on its surface, he might also be able to reinvigorate his memory of his king. 

It doesn’t matter how many years go by, he tells the carving, I will not forget you.

[293 words]

day 12 prompt: Alabaster for @merlinktober