Work Text:
The banging in Merlin's head was getting louder, as it had been steadily doing since Mordred became a knight of Camelot. At first he had thought that it was Mordred's doing, their magical connection rattling inside his head, but now he wasn't so sure. But ever since Mordred's knighting he had had a constant headache, one that no amount of Gaius' potions seemed to relieve.
Not that he was going to tell Gaius that. For some reason Gaius didn't see Mordred as the threat that he did, as the threat that he knew Mordred was. He did know it. Absolutely.
He sighed and put his head against the cool wall outside of Arthur's chambers. Some days it felt like he knew nothing at all.
“Merlin, are you all right?”
Merlin quickly straightened as Leon came up to him, flanked by Gwaine and Mordred. They were all looking concerned, Mordred most of all. Merlin felt something inside him flutter and squashed it down as hard as he could, feeling a little nauseous.
“Fine,” he said. “I'm fine.”
He was saved from further discussion by Arthur pulling the door open. “I've been waiting for you,” he told Merlin, before nodding towards the others. “I'll be there presently.” He then grabbed Merlin and pulled him in to the room and it was all Merlin could do not to throw up on Arthur's shoes.
“I have a Council meeting,” Arthur said, “as you well know. Honestly Merlin, I don't know why I keep you around.”
“Me either,” Merlin muttered under his breath, and went to fetch Arthur's jacket.
Arthur paused in his ranting to properly look at Merlin. “Are you coming down with something? I don't have the time for you to be sick.”
Merlin took a fortifying breath and then slowly let it out. Then he put on the face he always wore for such occasions.
“Nothing a day off wouldn't cure,” he said flippantly.
Arthur snorted, apparently pacified. “Jacket,” he said, and held out his hands. Merlin gave him the jacket and then followed Arthur as they went to the Council chambers.
& & & &
The meeting consisted mainly of Leon reading out a string of interminable policies and treaties that had recently been agreed with neighbouring kingdoms. Everyone, including Arthur, looked like they were struggling to stay awake. Merlin shifted from foot to foot, but otherwise tried to keep as still as possible – the quicker Leon finished without distraction, the sooner they could all get out of there.
”Are you all right?”
Mordred's voice echoed through his head and Merlin flinched, trying desperately not to cry out in pain. He resolutely looked forward and didn't reply.
”Merlin.”
Merlin risked a glance at Mordred, who was staring at him, looking so sympathetic that Merlin had to harden his heart even more not to reply.
As Leon began to finish up and Arthur straightened his shoulders in preparation for dismissing them all, Merlin risked another glance at Mordred. He was no longer looking at him, and somehow that made him feel even worse.
He wished he could control the way that Mordred made him feel, but everything was so conflicted. He'd spent so much of his life protecting Arthur that he was starting to think that there just wasn't room for anything else.
”I only want to help," Mordred whispered inside his mind and he did flinch then, catching Arthur's attention.
Arthur dismissed the Council and motioned for Merlin to follow him. “I have training with the knights, is my armour ready?”
Merlin nodded without trying to move his head. “All laid out in the armoury.” Arthur stared at him and he stared at Arthur. “May I -” Merlin asked, waving his hand vaguely towards the direction of his rooms.
Arthur moved closer to Merlin and touched his wrist with a finger. “I'll see you at the feast.”
It wasn't quite an order but Merlin nodded, knowing that no matter how badly he felt he would have to be there.
He smiled quickly at Gwaine and then slipped past Mordred and headed to his room.
& & & & &
Merlin was glad to find that Gaius wasn't there and headed straight to his bed. He lay down on his front on top of the covers and tried to will his headache away.
After a few moments, just when he thought he may as well get up and do some chores after all, he felt a familiar prodding at his mind. It was gentler than usual, less insistent.
”Mordred”.
”Let me help,” Mordred whispered.
”Where are you?”
”Watching Arthur and Gwaine sparring. No one will notice if I'm not paying attention. Just let me help.”
The pounding in Merlin's head was now spreading towards his neck and shoulders.
“All right.”
There was a sound inside Merlin’s mind that was so joyful Merlin felt a corresponding smile trying to form in his own mind. And then all he felt was a cool pressure around his head, his neck, his shoulders, as Mordred's healing thoughts danced through him. Slowly, as he became more confident that Mordred wasn't going to try and peek any further inside his mind than Merlin was prepared to admit him, Merlin allowed himself to relax.
His eyes slowly closed and he let his mind drift. All the worries, the weight he carried, suddenly didn't seem so heavy any more.
When he opened his eyes again he realised, with a pang almost of disappointment, that Mordred's presence was no longer with him. He blinked a few times and got up – realising with a jolt that it was already dark.
There was a knock on the door and he startled further as Gaius appeared, holding a couple of bottles in his hand.
“Ah, you're awake. I thought this might help with your headache...”
“What time is it?” Merlin interrupted. “When's the feast?”
“Are you going?” Gaius asked, as Merlin barrelled past him.
“Of course I'm going,” Merlin said. Then he stopped. “Am I? What time is it?”
Gaius, giving in to the inevitable, sighed and put his potions back on his worktable. “You still have an hour to get Arthur ready, if you insist.”
Merlin was out and dashing down the corridor before Gaius has even finished talking.
& & & & &
He barged into Arthur's room to find Arthur standing in front of his wardrobe, clearly struggling with a decision about what to wear.
“Why is it, do you think, that you are so utterly incapable of knocking before you enter a room?”
Merlin shrugged and moved over to sort out Arthur's clothes. “The red one, I think, sire,” he said, taking out a few items and moving them over to lay them out on Arthur's bed.
Arthur watched him and then took off his shirt. “I do have other servants.” Merlin looked up, surprised. “If you're ill, I do have other servants who can dress me.”
“I'm not ill,” Merlin said. “Not any more,” he added quickly.
Arthur decided to take him at his word.
& & & & &
Merlin thought he was prepared for seeing Mordred after...after whatever it was they had done. But he was wrong. Seeing Mordred sitting there, in between Gwaine and Percival, felt as if he'd had a cold bucket of water tipped over his head. He stumbled a little with the tray of sweatmeats he was presenting to Arthur, who had to steady it for him.
“I thought you weren't ill,” Arthur hissed, between a smile.
“I'm fine,” Merlin said.
Gwen looked over from her conversation with one of the visiting dignitaries. “Is everything all right?”
“Yes, do you need a refill?” Merlin asked, juggling the tray of sweetmeats with a jug of wine in a way that was making Arthur look a little twitchy.
“No, thank you Merlin,” Gwen replied and, still looking concerned, she turned back to her conversation.
Merlin slipped away then, off to the side and out of sight of Arthur who put on his fake smile and began talking to the woman next to him. He was relieved that the King and Queen were now too preoccupied to pay him any attention, but less so that Mordred was also not looking at him. Before he would have welcomed flying under the radar, but now he found himself overwhelmingly disappointed.
It was only at the end of the evening, as Merlin was escorting Arthur and Gwen back to their room that Mordred looked up and caught Merlin’s eye. It was as if the sun had suddenly deigned to warm him, and Merlin's magic danced just under his skin until he clamped it down, harshly, as Mordred's expression turned smug. He hurried out of the room then, and didn’t look back.
& & & & &
Merlin spent the next week trying to avoid Mordred. This was proving rather harder than he had anticipated, given that Arthur had developed such a fondness for him. And given that all the knights obviously respected him.
He was a good fighter – raw talent, clearly nurtured outside of Druid circles, without the finesse of the knights of Camelot. And he was a quick learner, picking up on moves much faster than those younger than himself. He also moved elegantly, as if not a single movement was to be wasted. And though serious, he could and did share in their jokes, and took all their ribbing good-naturedly and when he smiled...
...Merlin sighed and turned away from the practice ground, looking out instead to the woods outside the castle. Mordred was going to kill Arthur, the vision had been clear. Then change it.
Merlin startled and turned back around, but Mordred and Arthur were sparring and Mordred's face was one of fierce concentration, he wasn't even looking in Merlin's direction. In fact, just as Merlin had been seeking to avoid Mordred, Mordred never seemed to look at him any more.
Merlin wanted, suddenly, desperately, to talk to Mordred, but once Arthur had knocked Mordred on to the ground and then laughed and pulled him to his feet, they disappeared inside and Merlin's legs, like weights, refused to let him follow.
& & & & &
“You've hardly eaten anything in days. Are you coming down with something?”
Merlin looked up from his bowl of stew. “Sorry, Gaius, what did you say?”
Gaius put down his own spoon and put his hand against Merlin's forehead. “You don't feel hot, anyway.” Gaius looked sternly at him. “Are you going to tell me what you’ve done, or do I have to guess?”
“I haven't done anything,” Merlin said, perhaps a little quicker than he should have done.
Gaius merely raised an eyebrow.
“I haven't – not...” Merlin got up and started tidying the dishes away. “I have some errands to run. For Arthur. I'll be back late.”
Then he dashed from the room, leaving Gaius to shake his head in fond exasperation and retrieve his bowl from where Merlin had moved it; he hadn't even taken two sips himself.
& & & & &
Merlin didn't often come to the Knight's wing; he'd been a few times to see Gwaine, and deposit him back in his bed after a night at the tavern, and once to watch a card game in Leon's rooms, but mostly he stayed away. It was partly due to court etiquette, as manservant to the King he was, technically, above all the other servants, though he didn't much feel like it, and he certainly never showed that he even knew such precedence existed. And partly it was because, Gwaine aside, he always felt that they were Arthur's friends before his own, and that he shouldn't get in the way of their particular bond.
It was perhaps silly to think like that, but Merlin knew it to be true deep in that place within himself that he never questioned.
So it was that he found himself outside of Mordred's room. All Knights of the Round Table, as they were dubbed, had their own rooms, as opposed to those who had to share in the dormitory further along the wing. Mordred's rise to such a Knight so quickly had raised a few eyebrows in the Council, but they were mostly getting used to Arthur's ways by now, even if they did mutter behind his back. Both Merlin and Arthur knew exactly what was said about him, but they both pretended they did not.
“Are you intending to stand outside there all night, or would you like to come in?”
Merlin jumped and then shifted nervously as the door opened, and Mordred was standing before him. He looked dishevelled, as if he had been asleep.
“Did I wake you?” Merlin whispered.
“Yes.”
“Oh, I'm sorry, I'll - “ Confused, Merlin turned to go, but Mordred reached out and grasped his wrist.
“What did you want?”
“I - “
“Do you have another headache?”
“No,” Merlin shook his head. “Not since that night, when you – I haven't really thanked you. So, thank you.”
“You're welcome.” Mordred looked at Merlin for a moment, expression completely blank before he let go of Merlin and started to shut the door. “Good night, Merlin.”
The door closed completely and Merlin stood there, unable to decide what he wanted to do. But there were sounds further down the corridor – Gwaine's distinctive laugh – and he moved on, drifting through the shadows so he wouldn't be seen; even though he had done nothing wrong and as the King’s servant he could go practically anywhere in the castle, he still felt like he should hide himself.
& & & & &
Saxons had been encroaching on Camelot's lands and, after kidnapping the daughter of a noble and stealing all her jewels before tying her to a tree, Arthur had decided to ride out to the area himself. It was the first time that he, Merlin and his knights had been out for some time, and Arthur was clearly enjoying being able to relax around his men and not be subject to court etiquette. Merlin however, felt more tense than ever, since Mordred was asked to join their party.
“Who died?” Gwaine asked, sidling up to Merlin.
“What?”
“You look like someone's just died,” Gwaine said again. “In fact, you've looked like that for – actually I don't remember the last time I saw you smile.”
Merlin smiled, the biggest smile he could. “There, now you've seen me smile.”
“Merlin.” Gwaine looked over to the front of their party, to where Arthur and Leon were riding together, talking. “If you’re in trouble, if you need any help, you know all you have to do is ask.”
Merlin felt himself warmed by Gwaine's words despite himself. His smile this time was genuine. “I'm not in any trouble. Not the kind you could help with, anyway,” he amended gently. “But thank you.”
Gwaine patted his arm. “You're my friend, Merlin, remember that.”
Merlin nodded at him, too emotional to find the words to express how much Gwaine meant to him, and then let his horse fall back slightly, so that Gwaine went to join in Arthur and Leon's discussion.
It meant too that Mordred had to either slow down and join Percival, or continue at his current pace and draw level with Merlin.
“I don't think I'll ever understand you,” Mordred said. Merlin looked over at him and then quickly away. “All these months you've treated me with distrust, and then, and then I don't know what you’ve been doing.”
Merlin opened his mouth to speak, but found that he couldn't.
“Is this what being the most powerful sorcerer the world has ever known, does to you?”
Merlin looked around sharply, but no one was paying their conversation any attention. “No, I think it's just me,” he replied honestly and startled a genuine smile out of Mordred.
“Then we're possibly all doomed.”
Merlin caught the twinkle in Mordred's eye. “Probably,” he agreed.
& & & & & &
“I'll fetch the firewood,” Merlin said, to no one in particular. He didn’t know why he bothered; it was always assumed that this was Merlin's job and no one paid any attention until the fire wasn't roaring.
“I'll help,” Mordred said, so quietly that no one but Merlin would hear.
Merlin nodded a little tentatively, and they headed off into the woods together.
They collected the firewood in silence, and Merlin was beginning to think that Mordred wasn't going to say anything at all, until he reached for Merlin's firewood with his magic and dropped it on the floor.
Merlin tried not to react, but clearly failed judging by the quick twitch of Mordred's lips.
“What are you doing, Merlin?”
“Collecting firewood?”
“I wish you'd confide in me. I could help. Whatever it is that is worrying you – I could help.”
“Nothing's worrying me,” Merlin said, far too quickly. He leaned down and picked up his dropped firewood.
“I often thought about you,” Mordred began, voice a low timbre that sent shivers along Merlin's spine, “when I was hiding. Hiding myself, hiding my magic. Forging new identities. Burying myself under layers of lies.” He stepped forward, stopping arms length away from Merlin. “I know what's it like, more than you can imagine. We're alike, you and I, whether or not you choose to believe that.”
Merlin had a denial formed quickly, but for some reason he couldn't speak; Mordred's words were a little too much like the truth.
“Merlin! Firewood! Now!” Arthur shouted and Merlin breathed a sigh of relief.
“We should go,” Merlin told Mordred. He turned away and walked back to the others, not relaxing until he felt certain that Mordred wasn't going to say anything else.
& & & & &
In fact Mordred didn't address a single word to Merlin all night. This wasn't particularly unusual; when out camping like this Merlin would often keep quiet and listen to the others' talking, smiling at the knight's jokes but feeling a little bit like an outsider, even after all these years. No matter how kindly they treated him, he wasn't a knight and couldn't pretend otherwise. Mordred though, Mordred was one of them, and fitted in as seamlessly as if he'd been born in Camelot.
A small part of Merlin was happy that the knights were so welcoming, that Arthur didn't distinguish between high and low-born when creating knights. But a larger part felt jealous that he'd never have that.
He was interrupted from his daydreams when Arthur sat down next to him and handed him a bowl of stew.
“This is probably your best yet,” Arthur said. “You should try it.”
He pointedly waited until Merlin had taken a few mouthfuls, before shifting until he was more comfortable.
“I don't expect you to tell me what's wrong, you generally don't. But if there is something I should know...”
Merlin shook his head before Arthur had finished. “Really, Arthur, I'm fine, I'm just...”
“Is this about Mordred?”
Merlin stilled. “Mordred?”
Arthur just looked at him. “He's one of my best knights.”
“Yes.”
“You don't like him.”
“I've never said that.”
“You don't need to.” Arthur sighed. “Hard for you to imagine, but I'm not completely blind. Have you two had an argument?”
“No,” Merlin, chancing a glance over to where Mordred was sat, listening to Gwaine tell one of his impossible to believe stories. “No.”
Arthur looked like he was going to say something else when a flaming arrow landed right in front of him. Everyone jumped to their feet, Arthur pulling out his sword and directing the others to do the same, even as he grabbed Merlin's shoulder and pulled him behind a tree.
“Sire, there!” Mordred shouted, pointing towards a small outcropping where a dozen Saxons were clambering down towards them.
“We can circle around them, sire,” Leon said, “along the water's edge.”
“Right, go, lead the way,” Arthur commanded. “Gwaine, Mordred, you two take up the rear.”
He pulled Merlin along with him and they ran towards the water, only to find a dozen more Saxons waiting for them. None of the knights hesitated, but charged into an attack. Merlin ducked to the side and used his magic to trip two of them up before they could barrel into Leon, he then found himself thrown to the ground by a swift kick from behind and barely had enough time to roll out of the way as a sword came crashing down near his head.
The Saxon roared as he went in to strike again and Merlin was furiously trying to think how he could use his magic without being seen, when another sword appeared and stopped the Saxon's. Merlin looked up to see Mordred standing above him, and then launching into a counter-attack on the Saxon, easily finishing him off.
“Are you all right?” Mordred asked, pulling at Merlin's jacket to help him up, but keeping his eyes on their attackers.
“Fine,” Merlin said. He allowed Mordred to pull him behind, protecting him as another Saxon came in to attack.
A second Saxon raised an axe and threw it straight at Mordred, but Merlin managed to deflect it easily with his magic, and it embedded itself in a tree near Mordred's head. Mordred turned to look at Merlin with an unreadable expression on his face, then calmly finished the Saxon off with a blow to his abdomen.
Merlin ignored the twinge of something in his gut as his and Mordred's eyes locked. Instead he pushed past him and went to find Arthur.
“Everyone all right?” Arthur asked.
“Percival's injured,” Leon told him, helping to move Percival onto a rock.
“Let me look,” Merlin said, pulling at his bag. He carefully peeled back some of the cloth from Percival's trousers, revealing a deep cut to his upper thigh.
“Will he be all right?” Arthur asked.
Merlin nodded distractedly, already mixing a concoction that would soothe the pain. Arthur patted him on the shoulder once and then moved off to talk to Leon.
“Good thing we never leave home without a physician,” Percival said, smiling and wincing at the same time.
“I'd prefer it if you didn't get injured in the first place,” Merlin replied. “There, good as new. Try standing on it.”
Percival hefted himself up, using Merlin as leverage. Merlin made a put upon face but watched, satisfied, as Percival was able to manoeuvre as easily as normal.
“Thanks, Merlin,” he said. He then drifted off to help the others, leaving Merlin alone with Mordred.
“They are very lucky to have you,” Mordred said.
Merlin looked uncomfortably away. “Thank you,” he said after a moment. “You saved my life.” He turned to look back at Mordred who merely gave the briefest of smiles.
“I rather think you would have managed.” Mordred then turned away, leaving Merlin alone.
& & & & &
Arthur decided that they would make no headway with the Saxon's like this and that the best course of action was to return to Camelot. The journey was a sombre one for Merlin, but everyone else seemed buoyed up by their small victory; it was just another reminder of how out of step he was with everyone else.
It was Gwaine's turn again it seemed, to try and cheer Merlin up. He drew his horse level with Merlin's and then reached over to take the reins of Merlin's horse, slowing them both down.
“You know he won't mind,” Gwaine said, “Arthur. He'll probably complain about it endlessly but he won't actually do anything.”
Merlin frowned. “Do anything about what?”
“You and Mordred.”
Merlin was so startled his horse stopped moving all together and Gwaine was nearly unhorsed himself.
“What do you mean?”
“He likes you, you like him, it happens....”
“I don't like Mordred,” Merlin said, rather too loudly judging by the way everyone but Mordred turned around to look at him. “I mean, I don't - “
Gwaine shook his head. “Honestly, Merlin...”
“I'm not, that's not why I'm. I'm fine.” Merlin tried to move off but Gwaine still had hold of his reins.
“You are not fine. I only want you to be happy. We all do. Even Arthur.”
Merlin looked over to where Arthur was studiously trying to look like he wasn't paying any attention, though nearly walking his horse straight into a tree rather gave the game away.
Rather than carry on the conversation, Merlin managed to extricate his reins from Gwaine and headed to the front of their party, ignoring everyone until they reached Camelot.
& & & & & &
Arthur gave Merlin the next day off, despite Merlin's vigorous protests. And Gaius told him not to return until he'd sorted himself out. Which is why Merlin found himself sat outside under some trees, watching the world go by. None of them understood. He couldn’t give in to his feelings about Mordred. He just couldn’t.
He rubbed at the back of his neck again, the tension in his limbs making his head ache.
”Close your eyes”.
“Mordred?”
There was a small tinkle of laughter. “Who else would it be?”
Merlin shrugged, before remembering that Mordred probably couldn’t see him.
“And don't tell me you're fine. I don't understand why you won't talk to me, Merlin. All the times you've helped Arthur, I'm sure there’s been moments when you’ve needed a friend.”
Merlin was silent, clamping down on his own thoughts. He didn't think that Mordred would force his way any deeper into his mind, but he was prepared just in case.
The silence dragged on for a very long time, until Merlin was convinced that Mordred had gone. He closed his eyes, trying to will the headache away for himself, when cool fingers touched his temples.
His eyes flew open and he stared up at Mordred, who was standing in front of him, gently massaging his head.
“I told you to close your eyes,” Mordred instructed.
Merlin began to object and then stopped. It did feel good. Better than good in fact. He watched, cautiously, as Mordred moved away from him and then made himself comfortable behind Merlin, before continuing by slowly massaging his neck and shoulders.
Mordred slipped his mind inside Merlin's and Merlin couldn’t find the energy to object, he just allowed the wave of pleasure to move through him, his magic moving freely beneath his skin, unconstrained for once.
But when he opened his eyes again, Mordred was gone.
& & & & & &
It took Merlin two hours to work up the courage to go to Mordred's quarters. And another ten minutes to actually knock on the door. In all that time he was aware that Mordred was there, waiting, and yet refusing to do anything to encourage or discourage.
Finally he knocked and Mordred took his time in opening the door.
“I'm sorry,” Merlin said. “You're right. I could do with a – friend.”
Mordred smiled, the genuine smile he usually saved only for Arthur, where his eyes lit up and Merlin could feel his pleasure. He then reached out and put his hand on the back of Merlin's neck, before drawing him into a kiss. Merlin sank into it and then manoeuvred Mordred backwards into his room.
The door fell shut without a sound.