So I posted a Merlin (BBC) one-shot for a reincarnated Arthur au where Arthur is told a story about a man who lives all alone behind some mountains by a lake for his lost King to return. this fic is titled “The Mountains” it has Merthur (sort of)
https://archiveofourown.org/works/44205943
I am going to write and post a sequel for this fic, that I am going to title “The Lake” (this sequel will be more Merthur-centric of course.) That one will be the actual reunion between the two.
And then there may or may not end up being a third part called “The Farm” that is basically an epilogue where the two live together on the farm Merlin built on the shore of the lake while waiting for Arthur.
I am going to link them by putting them in a series together but I need to title the series and was hoping to get some input from you guys. Here are the options I’ve come up with:
The Place I Belong
Take me Home
Home
Forgotten Dream
Remembrance
The Wait
Which do you guys like? Respond in the chat if you have a preference. Or if you have another idea that I might like better.
Currently I am more drawn to The Place I Belong and Forgotten Dream.
I like Forgotten Dream cause of the scene where Arthur tells Gwen that sometimes he’d dream about running away from the crown and the throne and live on a farm somewhere no one knew who he was. And then Gwen asks how he’d manage a farm and he just says “I’ll take Merlin of course he can do all the hard parts” and so it makes me think of that. And plus the whole epilogue one has the two of them living on the farm Merlin Built.
But I also like The Place I Belong cause let’s be real, Arthur Belongs with Merlin. Plus I like the whole romance vibe the title has.
I’m too Gryffindor for this lol. This is probably not what you wanted but this is what happened, so whelp. Bit long but I hope you enjoy!
You hated Merlin. But he was busy and you were nearby and damn him for taking no time at all to drag you to Arthur Pendragon’s bedchambers and beg you to clean up before the prince noticed anything amiss. So there you were. In Arthur’s bedchambers. Cleaning up after the prince. Alone.
It wasn’t too hard a job. Arthur was a bit messy, but it was all just thrown clothes and leftover breakfast, which were no trouble at all to clean. You were nearly finished when you realized there was a sword laying abandoned under his bed. Who loses a sword? You picked up the blade and grimaced at the weight. Upon inspection, you realized it well sharpened and upkept. Perhaps hidden rather than lost? It didn’t matter. You decided to put it back right when the door opened with a loud bang.
You reacted on instinct rather than thought. In a matter of moments you strode to the foot of Arthur’s bed—toward the danger, not away—and held the blade out as though challenging the offender. It was heavy enough that you had to use two hands. You had no training with a sword. You had tried out daggers before, but never a sword like this one, so heavy you could barely wield it. You hadn’t yet comprehended who had come in before your sword met another, it arced and flew out of your hands, and you were pushed back onto the bed where you fell.
The air didn’t clear until a sword was leveled to your throat and you recognized the wielder as none other than Arthur Pendragon himself. His expression was one of surprise rather than hatred and it wasn’t until that moment that it occurred to you that he likely reacted on instinct just as you had.
“I promise this isn’t what it looks like,” you managed to say.
Arthur shook his head slowly. “Y/N?” he asked. “What—what are you doing here?” He looked hopelessly confused, but the blade remained firmly leveled to your throat.
“Um,” you began, throwing an obvious glance at his sword. He hastily moved back and sheathed his weapon, an embarrassed blush settling on his cheeks. “I was just cleaning,” you continued. “Gaius sent Merlin out on chores. It was faster if I did it. I, um, didn’t mean to point a sword at you?”
“Right,” Arthur nodded. “Yes, of course. You were cleaning. Because you’re a servant. And I didn’t mean to point a sword at you either but—” Arthur cut himself off. “Why were you pointing one at me again?”
“You surprised me,” you quickly put in. “I was just about to put the sword back. The door banged. I thought you were an intruder.” You blushed and straightened yourself, moving a few steps back.
Finally, some of the tension in the room settled, understanding dawning on both parties. You did know the prince, of course. You ran into him at times, he had asked for a couple of favours in the past. Merlin was always talking about him too. And Arthur was kind to you, or as kind as a prat of a prince could really be.
Arthur’s eyebrows suddenly furrowed and he took a step closer to you. “You thought I was an intruder?” he repeated. You nodded confirmation. “But I saw you. You heard me come in and all but charged for me. If you thought I was an intruder … Y/N, why not run?”
You blinked. That was one of the last questions you had expected. “Oh. Um, generally someone breaking into the prince’s bedchambers isn’t a good sign. They could be dangerous.”
Arthur sighed impatiently. “Yes, obviously. So why not run? Or hide? It’s like you said. It’s dangerous.”
You finally realized what he was getting at and shrugged. “What would happen then? I might be safe. Or I might be found, but let’s pretend I got away. The intruder gets what he came for. Keys to the dungeons or the vault maybe. A jewel or two. Then they run about the castle, kill a few other servants along the way. If I don’t alert a knight in time, they make it all the way to the dungeons and they let prisoners go, and then more people die. Or they take a magical artefact and all of Camelot is at risk, or—”
Arthur crossed the distance between you two and put his hands on your shoulders. You fall silent.
“Y/N,” Arthur sighed. “I know what the risks are. I know that intruders can be dangerous. But surely you know that protecting Camelot is not your responsibility? You could’ve been killed if it wasn’t me who walked through that door.”
You took a step back and his hands fell from your shoulders. “I can’t stand by and watch people die,” you said with narrowed eyes. “I won’t. A-and maybe I’m not so good with that sword. But I have to try.”
Arthur shook his head. “No, you don’t. You should run. Protect yourself.”
“Is that what you do?” you asked, wrapping your arms around yourself.
“It’s different,” Arthur denied, his voice raising. “I’m the prince and I’m a knight besides. It’s my job to protect Camelot.”
“It’s not different!” you argued. “You’re not the only one allowed to protect people—”
“I don’t want to see you hurt, Y/N!”
You froze. Arthur was breathing heavier and took another step closer. “What?” you managed to say.
When Arthur put his hands on your arms, you didn’t stop him. “Look, you could’ve died today. You don’t even know how to use that sword, Y/N. And I-I don’t want to see you dead or injured, especially not on my behalf. You’re too—you’re just—” He fell silent, unable to articulate what he meant.
“O-okay,” you stuttered. “But I can’t just stand by. If there’s a next time I mean. I can’t. Not even—” you blushed “Not even for you.”
Arthur ducked his head down for moment, tightening his hands on your arms just slightly. “I know,” he sighed. “So I guess we’ll have to start tomorrow.” He abruptly let go and stepped back, heading for the table where he began unbuckle and put his sheathed weapon down.
Your head was spinning from the change of pace. “What?”
Arthur shot you a small smile and leaned back on the table. “Well, any Defender of Camelot needs to know how to use a sword.” At your shocked silence, his smile dropped just a tiny bit. “And I suppose I’d feel better if you knew how to defend yourself.” He cleared his throat and looked away.
You couldn’t help but smile too. “In that case … okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You headed for the door, only pausing to pick up the fallen sword and toss it onto the bed. Just before you left his room, you stopped. “And Arthur? Thank you.”
The day Arthur wakes up to find a dragon on his bedside table is memorable, to say the least. Mostly because it starts with the bed-hangings catching fire and ends with a half-naked foot chase through the castle corridors, in pursuit of a tiny winged beast about the size of his fist which nevertheless appears afflicted by a supremely persistent brand of pyromania.
Or: strange and magical gifts keep turning up in Arthur's chambers, a week from Valentine's Day. This sort of thing tends to happen to him a lot, actually.
Looking for a Beta/Co author for an AO3 Fanfic. See Details.
Looking for a Beta or Co-Author from the trans community to help with a fic I plan to write for AO3.
The fic is a oneshot for the Merlin BBC fandom, the ship is Merthur but in this story Merlin is a trans man who ran away from his own royal family because they wouldn't accept him, and is about to be found out cause his birth fam showed up in Camelot for reasons I won't divulge here.
it is heavily inspired by this fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26950681
However while I am not cisgender, I am not trans either. Nor have I had to deal with the struggles people from the trans community deal with.
As such I am looking for either a beta or coauthor from the transgender community to help me make sure that I accurately portray the struggles that Merlin has to deal with. Must have gmail as I use google drive to write my fics and one-shots and will need to share the document with you.
As I am writing this there is no draft or work text for the fic. Only a detailed plot outline.
If you are interested send me a DM on insta. Username styxhuntress. Please include the following in your message.
Whether you want to co author or simply beta the one-shot.
If you want to co author the fic please provide a link to where ever it is that you post your own fics, assuming you do post your own fics. If you do not post fanfics I would appreciate a small writing sample (100-200 words) as I want to find someone who's writing style goes well with my own.
How much experience you have as a beta (if you plan to purely beta read the fic.)
“You’re making the usual supply run for Gaius for some herbs in the forest. Merlin accompanies you. Danger ensues, and in a panic, Merlin uses magic. You never knew.”
It's an OC fic because I don't like second person. Word count is around 3k because I'm a lunatic.
I take imagine/oneshot requests too if you're interested!
Sneak peek at this one:
"Run!" she shouted to Merlin, reaching back for her sword and shooting upright. She barely registered the click of an arrow loosing from a crossbow, barely heard it slicing through the air, before she reacted. One moment she was standing and the next she was weightless, falling in the place that Merlin had just been. She was sitting up before she had even registered she'd hit the ground, and then—
Everyone was dead.
It wasn't a good day to be in the woods. Ana didn't typically travel with Merlin when he searched for Gaius' herbs, but this day was an exception. With the dark clouds rolling in, no one wanted to be caught in the woods alone, and Ana would only speed up the process of gathering. With luck, they would both be back in the castle before the first drops fell from the sky.
Ana had practice collecting herbs, though Merlin certainly had more. Still, she found that she already knew where to find the herbs on his list, and could identify on sight which she could pick and which required digging, which she could store together and which she dared not crush between her fingers. Ana was staring critically at two plants in her hand when Merlin appeared just behind her, looking over her shoulder. Ana jumped when she felt his breath on the side of her neck and he smiled guiltily. She should have heard him coming, but she had been far too preoccupied with her findings.
"I can't tell the difference," she told him, holding up the two leaves she had in her hand. They were both the same yellow-tinted green hue, with pointed ridges and thick veins. If she hadn't collected them from two different spots, she wouldn't have known they were different plants at all. Merlin grimaced and plucked one from her hand, tearing it gently. He showed her the inside edge of it, clearly lined in yellow.
"This one is poisonous," he told her, crushing it and dropping it to the ground. "Look, you can see it here, this stem grows thick where it touches the base of the leaf." He used his pinky to poke at the plant still in her hand, gesturing to the stem in question. She felt it and realized it was textured.
"Right," she sighed, slipping it into her pouch. "You always know, don't you?"
Truthfully, Merlin had an advantage over her. The poisonous plant wasn't natural; he could detect a tiny bit of magic in it and he always could. He didn't have to look for the tiny signs he was showing her, he just knew. He didn't say this though, instead just nodding. "I gave Gaius the wrong ones a few times. He wasn't happy."
Ana grinned at him as she knelt down and picked a couple more from the base of a tree. "I imagine he wouldn't be. His business is healing, not murder."
Merlin laughed. "A plant like that would give you a stomach ache," he told her. "You'd be fine by morning."
Ana watched him carefully as she stood up, adjusting the shortsword in her sheath as she did. "You picked up a lot, you know. About Gaius' healing. You could probably become an apprentice or something, if you wanted to."
Merlin chuckled and shook his head. "Nah, not me," he assured her. "It seems more impressive than it is."
"So you say," Ana hummed, taking the list from his hand and looking over it. "We need the aethrils, but after that, do you think we could risk going back?"
Merlin peeked and shook his head. "We need to get some more dreamroot. We didn't get enough for him to make his powder."
Ana nodded and followed him when he began heading in the correct direction. "You know," she began thoughtfully. "I used to live so close to forests like these. But kids . . . we would just starve, get sick, die or recover. All the plants in here, they were just plants. But now every single one of them is a different kind of medicine."
Merlin gave her a side glance, his steps slowing. "If Gaius was always around, everyone would be a lot healthier," he mused. Ana pretended that she couldn't see the sadder look in his eyes, the look that told her his life in Ealdor was not as different as she may have thought to her own.
As they continued walking, Ana began to feel uneasy, and not just because of the topic of conversation. They slowly fell silent and Ana was hyper aware of the quiet between them, thick and—
And not just around them. Slowing down, Ana put her hand out to touch his arm gently. Merlin slowed in suit and gave her a confused look, opening his mouth to speak to her. She shook her head quickly, waving her hand in front of him to shut him up. When they stood still, she became certain. The woods were silent. There were no critters that she could hear, and certainly no birdsong. Part of her thought it was because of the coming rain, but she couldn't bank on it.
Something must have scared the creatures away.
Ana put her hand on her shortsword and Merlin's eyes followed the motion. Ana didn't move to pull it out.
"I get the sense we should run," Ana told him quietly. She could fight but Merlin couldn't. As strong as she was, Ana didn't trust herself to protect him and herself at once.
"Brilliant idea," someone said from behind them. Ana turned around quickly, her sword out before she could even see who she was facing. It was too late. The man who had spoken stood only a few feet away, his sword safely stowed. And that told Ana everything she needed to know; he had nothing to be afraid of. She could hear the shifting in the woods, and she caught the sound of a click. She dropped the sword without a word. Merlin made a sound of confusion but Ana just looked around more openly, enough to attract Merlin's attention to the situation. There were two other men, one on either side, both wielding crossbows pointed directly at them. "But I'm afraid it came a bit late."
Ana clenched her jaw and crossed her arms, not unaware of the archers tracking her movements. "What the hell do you want?"
"That's no way for a lady to talk," the man said, shaking his head. "Even if you are a servant."
Ana wanted to swear. He knew they were from the castle. It was a funny thing how quickly you could gain enemies just by being near to the prince or king. Ana didn't need to ask any further questions. "What do you want?" she repeated. She knew the answer. They wanted to get to the prince or the king, to get information. Feigning confusion was the safest bet to assure them they knew nothing.
"You know what I want," the man scoffed. "The king needs to fall. And you have the information I need to make it so."
"We don't," Merlin said, taking a step forward. He froze when the archers followed his movements. "We're just servants, we don't know anything. I-I just work in the stables. She's in the kitchens. We've barely even met the royal family."
"And you also don't know the entrances to the castle? You don't know the rotation of guards? You don't know what food the king eats to poison him?" The man took a step forward. "You, girl, you had a sword. You learned how to use that in the castle without knowing how to get past the knights?"
Ana shifted and crossed her arms. "We're servants. We don't have time to watch the guards,we don't know what entrances are best, we go through servant entrances. We don't have what you're looking for. Just let us go and we won't say a word."
The man shook his head slowly, putting a hand on the hilt of his sword. "No, I know a lie when I see one." He gestured to Ana. "Come this way, slowly."
Ana bit the inside of her cheek but took a few steps forward, aware of the archer on her right following her path.
"Let's see if servants are as brave as knights. Boy, you'll want to answer me if you want her to live, do you understand me?" The man looked to Merlin and must have found the answer he was looking for because he took another couple steps toward Ana and took his sword out, holding it in front of him, still a foot from touching her. It was redundant and for show as long as the archer was on her right, but it did the job of reminding Merlin the stakes. "You said you worked in the stables? When does the king leave the castle then? Or the prince?"
"I-I don't know," Merlin answered quickly, his voice slightly higher than usual. "The prince sometimes goes on hunting trips. But he just went on one, I don't know when he'll go again. . . . You don't need to hurt her, we'll talk."
"I need more than that. Think hard. How do I get to the king?"
When Merlin stumbled for an answer, Ana stepped up. "There's an entrance. To the castle. I don't know how you'll get to the king, but it'll get you in. It leads just above the prison. Some of us use it to avoid the guards when we're feeding prisoners."
That entrance didn't exist. There was an entrance that lead into the prison, but it was barred off with metal and unusable. There were no other hidden passageways leading in or out of there; it would be undefendable.
"I see," the man hummed. "Was cooperation so difficult? At nightfall we'll go and scout the area. But you'll be coming with me to do it." He tilted his sword toward Ana.
Ana heard Merlin take a step forward and then halt quickly. "That wasn't the deal. She can draw a map, just let us go!"
"A deal?" the man laughed. "You're down by two bows and a sword, we don't need a deal. Her I'll take. And if the king dies, I might even let her go. But you I can't have messing with my plans; can't have the king knowing what's happening before he's dead, hm?" The man raised his offhand halfway, and Ana recognized it as the beginnings of his signal for the archer to shoot.
Faster than she could have planned, she leapt forward and grabbed the blade right above the hilt, twisting the sword out of his grip and slicing her hand on its edge. Unable to make use of it fast enough, she threw it away from the both of them and then fell back back, hitting the ground and just managing to dodge an arrow that nearly hit her from the archer on her right.
"Run!" she shouted to Merlin, reaching back for her sword and shooting upright. She barely registered the click of an arrow loosing from a crossbow, barely heard it slicing through the air, before she reacted. One moment she was standing and the next she was weightless, falling in the place that Merlin had just been. She was sitting up before she had even registered she'd hit the ground, and then—
Everyone was dead. Or it looked that way. They flew back, they collapsed, all of them, all at once, and she hadn't touched them, and she hadn't felt a thing, and that wasn't possible, it just wasn't, unless—and when she turned around she had her answer. Merlin was behind her, his hand raised, breathing heavily, gold fading from his eyes. He had magic. Ana didn't even know how that was possible. How was he a practicer of magic in Camelot? Without Gaius or Arthur finding out, without anyone finding out? Ana didn't realize she was breathing heavier or that her fingertips were beginning to shake; Merlin, however, noted it with panicked and pained eyes before he spoke.
"I—I can explain," Merlin said quickly, raising both of his hands in innocence. Ana tensed instinctively at the gesture and he dropped them, concealing a small wince. "I can explain, I swear, but first—" He floundered and then gestured to her.
It was only when she shifted to sit straighter that she realized what he was talking about. She was bleeding. She immediately moved to put more pressure on her abdomen, stifling the bleeding at the cost of pain, her fingertips reaching around the shaft of an arrow to do so. "You want to . . . what? Heal me? Merlin, I . . . I don't even know how you got magic, you can't just—"
"You're going to bleed out," Merlin said, pleading. He took a couple steps forward. "Look, I'm not going to hurt you, I just want to—"
"Don't be stupid, Merlin," Ana scoffed weakly, "I know you're not going to hurt me. Just . . . come over here, all right? At the least you can help me stop the bleeding."
Merlin was evidently cautious, but after watching her expression for another moment, he was beside her and putting another hand on her abdomen, pressing harder. "Ana, I can't heal this without magic," he said, his voice pitching up. "I-I don't know how."
"I need you to explain first, Merlin," Ana insisted, attempting to sound severe. She shook her head. She couldn't let him. Not yet.
"Just trust me," Merlin insisted, breathing in sharply. She felt his hand tremble slightly where he was applying pressure. "I was born with magic, I didn't choose it, I was born with it. I'll tell you everything, but I need to heal you first, please just—"
"I trust you, Merlin," Ana sighed, wincing at the movement. "You're right, I trust you. So . . . so do it. And I expect that explanation after, all right?" Cautiously, and not without a glance at Merlin to see if he would stop her first, she grabbed hold of the arrow, took a deep breath, and pulled it out in a swift motion that left her in dizzying pain.
After the immediate shock faded, Merlin's eyes lit up in relief at his new opportunity, his shoulders relaxing minutely. Ana expected him to prepare her, or explain, but instead he gave her an uncertain look, ducked his head, and muttered words she couldn't make out under his breath. After a moment, he applied more pressure to her wound and repeated the words again. She jumped when the wound began to sting, but it was over as quickly as it came. Merlin slowly eased the pressure off her wound and no blood poured between his fingers.
Ana shifted to lean back immediately, putting both of her hands on the place the wound used to be. "Shit," she breathed. "It's not—it's not bleeding. It barely hurts. How did you—?" Ana cut herself off when she saw his expression, nervous and uncertain. "I . . . don't think you're evil, Merlin. I just don't understand. I—why didn't you tell me? And what do you mean you were born with it? And what about all the magic that happens in Camelot? Are you the one doing it? Because a lot of that is—" Ana caught herself and stopped, waiting for him to answer.
Merlin kept his eyes on the ground, propping up a knee and leaning on it. "I was born with magic," he said again. "It's not common, but it happens. Some of the druids are born with magic too. I can't just stop. It's a part of who I am." He risked a glance up to see her expression and then looked down again. "I only use magic to help people, I swear. Like Arthur. I protect him. And I can't tell anyone or—"
"You'll be sentenced to death?" Ana offered. "That's a reasonable answer." She paused, digging her fingers into the dirt as she thought. "I didn't know people could be born with magic. It's, um, it's different. To know you didn't choose it. I mean, I don't think all magic-users are evil but—" Ana dug her fingers deeper into the ground.
Merlin watched her movement carefully but didn't comment on it. "How are you so calm?" he asked. "No one else who found out were, were like this."
"I'm not calm, Merlin," Ana said plainly. "I—I'm freaking out. This isn't normal. Or okay. I just don't—I don't know how I'm supposed to feel right now. You're not the first magic user I've met, but even then . . ."
"But you still trust me?" he asked. His voice was cautious, if hopeful. Ana paused to fully look at him and realized suddenly that he must have been rejected before, that he couldn't possibly be used to acceptance.
Ana opened her mouth and then closed it. It took a moment before she attempted to speak again. "Of course I do. You're still Merlin." After another moment, she even managed the smallest of smiles. "And I have the slightest feeling that Arthur's not lucky at all. Puts all the dropped branches, swords, and chandeliers into perspective."
Merlin's eyes widened and he barked a laugh, far giddier than he should have been. "You don't know the half of it," he assured her. His words were punctuated by the first few drops of rain that began to fall through the trees, splashing dew on their skins.
Ana cleared her throat. "I don't suppose you could stop this rain then?"
Merlin wouldn't have dared try and Ana didn't expect him to. Both of them knew that it was too soon, that she wasn't ready for it and he wasn't ready to witness the reaction. But that didn't keep either of them from smiling at the question, or put a damper on Merlin's mood when he stood up and offered her a hand to stand as well. There was something about the air around them that assured them it would be okay soon.
Gaius would have a word with them when he saw the pair, soaking wet and muddy, with blood dotting their clothes. He would notice Ana's behaviour and Merlin's careful avoidance of the suspicious and realize the secret had been told. Of course nothing would ever be the same. But in that moment, Ana and Merlin thought of none of that. Instead, they hurried home, still shocked beyond what they could express, with an odd sense of relief filling their bones.
It all started when Arthur’s sister decided it would be a good idea to trick him into going on a blind date with her best friend’s flatmate. Arthur and Merlin don’t see eye to eye at first, but decide to fake a relationship for a month to stop their loved ones from pestering them about finding a partner. Their arrangement backfires when they realise they’ve fallen for their own trick, and aren’t pretending anymore…
A story about amusing Christmas presents, dates on skates, strategically placed mistletoe, and revelations of secrets long kept, as well as friendship, finding yourself, and a little bit of love.
Merlin's employees bet him the recipe for the most addictive cocoa in the world that he can't find out what the hot blond who comes into his chocolate shop does for a living within the month. He ends up getting far more than he bargained for.
