It's strange, but when the Prince is in a good mood it seems like all the rest of Camelot follows his lead. Arthur laughs and the kingdom laughs with him.

Not that there's been much of anything to laugh about in Camelot for some time. They are at war and under siege once more. The lower town still shows signs of the Great Dragon's attack. There is an empty space at court that speaks loudly to the losses of Camelot. Merlin feels the loss and the fear and the disquiet. It seems to have seeped into the bones of him making him both quieter and more withdrawn.

Oddly enough Merlin's pain seems to bring out the playful side of Arthur's nature. The more Merlin retreats the more Arthur advances. He gets more creative in his insults. He comes up with new and amusing things for Merlin to do until Merlin snaps out of his fog and realizes that he's been sorting Arthur's horse feed by the size of the grains for twenty minutes. Arthur is Arthur. Both the Prince and the Prat and he always manages to take something one step too far. Like when Arthur demands Merlin muck out the stables - and provides him with a ladle to do it.

Merlin puts the ladle to good use.

By the time they're done they're both covered and stinking and as difficult as it is they manage to keep straight faces for all of two minutes.

It's just one moment. A small dot in the bigger picture. But it's something. A bit of light to push back the encroaching dark. It's not much but they'll take it.



Merlin
Merlin
277

It seems to the casual observer that Merlin is not, in fact, a very good servant.

He is rarely on time for anything. Then there's that unfortunate tendency to drop things, lose things, trip over things or generally muck things up. It's said that there is a family of mice living in the walls of the Prince's chambers. Sausages have been known to go missing from his breakfast plate. The Prince's finest clothing is rarely immaculate and occasionally threadbare in places. Merlin's even been overheard insulting Prince Arthur more than once with a shocking familiarity.

But the one thing no one can disparage Merlin about is the care of Sonata, the Prince's horse. Her feed is mixed for her alone. Her stable is cleaned twice a day. Saddle, bridle, bit, blanket, stirrups, every bit of equipment is tended to by Merlin himself. Inspected with his own hands. He is with Sonata when she is shod.

He is the same way with the Prince's armor. It may not always gleam brightest but it is always sound and Merlin sees to it personally. He can put it together and take it apart in his sleep and thanks to Guinevere he knows what flaws to look for. The Prince's servant is not much interested in the trappings of the crown. Finery and frippery don't register to Merlin as things that are worthy of anyone's concern. He's sworn to protect Arthur and so he does. In doing so he focuses on those things that can mean the difference between life and death.

The Prince may ride into battle with a hole in the toe of his sock - but his horse will never stumble and his armor will not give way.

It's another way Merlin and Arthur are alike - both of them terrible on the surface, but exceptional in the ways that count.



Merlin
Merlin
Word Count 310

I imagine I would say "You should be more careful." I would be right. More than my child self would ever know. When I was a boy I was careful all the time. I spent most of my days making sure my friends and neighbors didn't suspect anything about who or what I am. My mother and William were the only ones who knew. Now it's different. Now, so many know my secrets. I've been lucky so far in many ways. I haven't been publicly exposed. Yes, I've been sent to the stocks but I have never once been sentenced to the pyres like so many before me. My younger self would fear that exposure more than anything. More than living and dying without anyone knowing what we can do. He'd be right to worry. I worry too. The difference is that he would have done anything to protect his secret at all costs. But now that I'm older I can see more clearly. There are moments when there's more at stake than just one life. I'm as careful as I can be, but not as careful as child me would like. Merlin Merlin 192

More than once since coming to Camelot I've wanted to command the Great Dragon. I wished to have him answer to me instead of me running to answer his call. To ask the questions and get answers in return instead of riddles. There's nothing that I wouldn't have given to have the source of so much knowledge and understanding about magic at my fingertips, the books can only tell me so much and none of them are as old as the dragon.

Now I've got what I wanted. The Great Dragon Kilgharrah is mine to command. As he's the last dragon I am the last Dragonlord. We're brothers connected at the soul from one magical creature to the other. When I speak he must obey. It is everything I wished for. But the price of my command was like the price everyone pays for great power - too high. All the time I wished to have the Great Dragon under my command I had no idea that doing so would mean inheriting the gift from my father. My powers grow every day in ways I had never imagined but so does the price being paid by those around me.

I won't be seeking to command anyone ever again.

There isn't much that's left from when I was a boy. My mother and I had enough and not much more. Life in Ealdor doesn't really allow for people to gather things. We ate what we could grow, we wore what we could sew, everything that was used up or broken down got turned into something else. No room for waste.

When I arrived in Camelot it was with the clothes on my back, a letter in my hand and very little else. Possessions can come or go, set them down, turn around and they may well be lost forever. Look away and they break beyond repair. The most valuable, precious thing a person can own can be stolen, broken, or lost.

What I have from when I was a child isn't a thing. It's not something that will break or can be stolen or lost. My magic. I don't remember a time when I didn't have it. I used to hope and pray that I would wake up without it and that I would be like everyone else. I won't say that I've stopped hoping for that completely. There are times when I would rather not have this kind of power, I would sleep easier if I didn't have to make the decisions I've made because of it or have seen the things I've seen. But now, after meeting Balinor, I realize that what I have is about more than just me. It's been passed down from generation after generation. It was in him just like it's in me. It can't be broken or stolen or lost. It's with me always just like he was - even when I didn't know it.



Muse: Merlin
Fandom: Merlin
Word Count: 283

It feels like he's been living on borrowed time ever since he'd arrived in Camelot.

Not that it's just time he's borrowing, there's been: borrowed books from Gaius, borrowed courage from Arthur, borrowed insight from Gwen, borrowed information from the dragon, borrowed cleverness from Morgana, borrowed magic from the very heart of Camelot itself.

But none of it frightens Merlin more than the borrowed time. It's a constant game of give and take, push and pull and the only place he seems to be getting with it all is deeper and deeper into the pit. He borrowed from the dragon to save Camelot but the price may very well cost all of Camelot. He borrowed from his mother her very life in order to spare a kingdom and for his oath he got what he needed: a command to murder. He poisoned Morgana to save the kingdom but he knows he's simply borrowing time. Morguese won't allow Morgana to die and eventually the two of them will return and Camelot will once again be under siege - but only if the Great Dragon doesn't destroy it first.

Merlin's been constantly borrowing time every since he's come to Camelot. But now he fears time has run out and all his debts have are coming due.


Muse: Merlin
Fandom: Merlin
Word Count: 214

[Private]

No. I do not.

I think I understand now what Gaius has been trying to teach me since I've come to Camelot. I can never confess what I am able to do unless I want to be burned alive.

This is King Uther's Camelot and all of us answer to him.

Gaius carries my secret with him. He is the only one I can entrust with it. Whatever tie I had to the Great Dragon is severed. By his actions, not mine. But he knows my secret as well and I know better than to think that he is done with using me in his attempts to break free. And then there was Nimue. She knew the part of me that is always on the fringe, just out of my sight.

Nimue talked of the 'Old Religion'. She said we were both creatures of it. So did the Great Dragon. But what they spoke of, what they wanted of me...that cannot be all there is to the old ways. There is more to the Old Religion than selfish gain, than terrorizing those who cannot fight back, there is peace in it, beauty, strength. But Nimue twisted it, perverted it with everything she touched until I do not know if I want any part of it now.

Gaius says I'm to be a great warlock someday. Now I do not know if I believe that is true but I will not waste the time we have arguing with him over it. Gaius is getting older every day and I will not always have his wise council to temper me.

When Gaius dies my secret will be mine alone to carry.

I can make no confession.

[/Private]

I have a confession to make: my prince is a royal prat.