Chapter Text
“What's with this obsession! No one’s ever even met him and somehow he’s our king?” A young sorcerer by the name of Dyann rants to himself as he leaves the annual druid festival (ish) which celebrates the prophecy of Emrys. Let's just say he was getting pretty sick of it.
A few seconds ago, everyone had been fawning over how powerful Emrys must be and how great it will be when he brings upon Albion. It's a time said to bring peace and equality to all people, especially those with magic like the druids. A time where people will change to fit magic into their everyday lives.
Dyann doesn’t want things to change, he’s doing quite well in the charcoal business thank you very much. Besides, sure Emrys is supposed to be the most powerful warlock of all time but does he know how to turn invisible like Dyann does? I don’t think so! Or… he doesn’t think so.
Dyann ducks into his tent/cave/home and absentmindedly starts fiddling with a lump of clay he has on his wall of sorcery ingredients. Getting out a grimuar he used on a daily basis to improve his skills, Dyann got an idea. The young sorcerer had a terrible awful idea.
“I know how to doom Emrys,”he muttered as his lips began to curve up slightly. He quickly opened the book to two spells, two pages sure to bring the downfall of Albion.
The first page included the elements of a simple magic tracking spell, and the second for selected memory loss. The third spell he knew by heart, he would use this as a child to steal food and even now to gather simple potion ingredients.
In the end he had created a lifles golem awaiting instructions (from the lump of clay he earlier handled) and a poultice tied off by a used cooking string. Dyann then picked up the mini mud monster and whispered a spell.
“golem parva, clara magicae invenio, invenire, bardus est invenire quod maneat in omni fortuna atque dormit,” his voice, like most when saying a spell, was heavy with the weight of magic. When he opened his eyes, you could see the irises gleam gold with the power.
The effect was immediate, the small creature of mud began to look around animatedly before spotting the poultice that happened to be the size of its torso. It ran over and hefted it up, the size making it a little awkward. Soon it was off running toward the direction of Camelot.
Dyann sighed and relaxed physically as he watched the stubby pair of legs climb over the forest terrain. “It won’t be long until news arrives with the death of Emrys.”
The golem (which I've now decided to name Desmund) had a long journey ahead of it, but it persevered. For a human the journey was no less than three days, but for its small legs you could expect at least triple that. Then again, it's not like Desmund had to rest at night, that itself cut the journey in half.
All in all, it took a while before it reached the gates to the lower town. Camelot was currently the equivalent of the five-o'clock rush hour as citizens were rushing around getting last minute supplies and the merchants were beginning to close up shop and head home.
Weaving around the bustling people and making its way down incredibly narrow alleyways, Desmund still holding the oversize poultice snuck past the bored guards and into the citadel courtyard. The spell cast on it was seeking Emrys a.k.a. the most pure magic a human form can take, with a goal of finding the place he sleeps. It wouldn’t be too difficult if it weren’t for the flight of stairs it took to get to the physicians chambers and finally more stairs to Emry’s own small room. Besides that, the only entrance was the small window that overlooked the city.
Desmund's enchanted consciousness decided to take its chances. It began to struggle up the stairs, not being caught because apparently not one of the guards had the sense to look down.
When Desmund finally got to the door of the phasicions ‘office’, an old man who seemed to have a permanent skeptical/‘done with you’ expression was closing the door while sternly telling off another person. It just snuck through, going under tables and around big barrels and boxes, only pausing when it sensed the magic of Emrys in a tall lanky guy with high cheekbones and big ears.
“I know, I know.” Emrys replies to the old man while cleaning his face from what appears to be horse dung. “‘Magic is a secret to be guarded with my life.’ as you’ve told me many times. No one saw anything. George usually does it half the time so it's not like it's suspicious. Maybe he has magic!”
“Don’t go accusing other people like that, it's exactly what Uther does.” Emrys sighs and droops. “You know I’m only trying to keep you from trouble.” The old man says a bit calmer now.
Emrys sighs again “Yeah I know. Though you know me, I never listen.” they both chuckle.
“Now go finish your duties for Arthur.” the old man points to the door which Emrys starts to walk too. “And no magic!” and with a salute, Emrys is out the door.
By now Desmund has entered Emrys’ small room off of the main chambers (never a good thing to have). After making its way on top of the cot/bet and then under the pillow where it set the poultice. With the fulfilment of its task, Desmund is once again the lifeless clay golem it once was.
It's late at night, when the moon has risen exceptionally, that the tired Emrys comes in and plops on his cot. Underneath the pillow, the poultice begins its purpose and gains a faint glow indicating the spell at work.
Dyann smiles as his plan proceeds to the next step.
+++++++++++++
The air is sweet. Was it alway this sweet? I don’t know, and I don’t care. It's like suddenly all the clouds are literal cotton candy and that affects how the air feels, similar to that on a rainy day. Scratch that, it feels like I am the cloud.
I haven’t felt like this in years, and certainly never in Camelot. I wonder why. Did something happen yesterday? Let's see… I did all my normal stuff for Arthur, cleaned the stables in record time, got a stern talking to from Gaius- what was that about again?
Without even realizing, I’m suddenly taking in all the colors of dawn and completely awake. No grogginess in sight. I wonder for a moment if some sorcerer enchanted me to have the most restful sleep of my life. If so they deserve anything they wish for.
Time to wake Arthur and rub it in his face how awake I am. Is it just me or is everything brighter today?
Going out the door I tie my red neckerchief around my neck and start eating breakfast. “Morning Gaius!” I greeted him.
“What demon possessed you?” I see him chuckle as he starts putting together vials of medicine for his morning rounds. I decide to help him out by bringing him the ones I know he needs. He looks at me with an unamable expression then begins plucking the vials out of the air and placing them in his bag.
“Well I’m off.” I had finished my breakfast and was heading out the door when Gaius stopped me.
“You’ll remember what I said yesterday won’t you,” he says and I just shake my head.
“Yeah yeah.” and I shut the door and begin my daily routine. For a moment I question what Gaius was referring to but decide to ignore it. I have a feeling today is going to be great. For what could go wrong when everything just seems so light and happy.
+++++++++
Merlin basically skips through the hallways of the Camelot citadel. He can’t explain it. He just feels more free, as if this giant weight he never knew he had was now lifted off his very soul. All his senses heightened as an invisible aura of life pulsates around him.
He turns into the already bustling kitchens, heading directly to the head chef already covered in flour. “Good morning Audrey!” He says in a broad voice.
The plump lady scoffs, “What’s gotten into you lately!”
The servant's smile was almost brighter than the sun, “It’s just a lovely morning. Like there's something special in the air today, can you not sense it!”
Audrey’s eyebrows rose above her cap, “No!” She belted out.
“Anyway, I’ve come for the prince’s breakfast and you, being the amazing woman who’s wonderful at her job, I'm sure it's ready and at the highest royal standards.” Merlin said with overly flattering gestures at the head chef.
“Here.” She said while rolling her eyes and handing him a bountiful breakfast plate.
Merlin wordlessly conjures a flower behind his back and exchanges it for the plate. “A flower, to show the Prince’s appreciation.” he says, still speaking grandly to the woman's surprise. “In fact! Flowers for everyone!” Then with an unseen flash of gold the entirety of the kitchens was filled with grand flowers, each in full bloom, or still growing.
Audrey, not to mention the rest of the kitchen maids, were in too much shock to do anything about it. Though one thing was clear. Someone had to inform the king.
Merlin made his way down the halls of the citadel to Arthurs chambers with such a carefree smile everything within a six foot (two meter) radius would brighten up exceptionally. Stone walls felt warmer, torches brighter, and the people confused but all the same happier.
The Warlock gracefully weaved through the halls miraculously not dropping a single grain off the prats plate. At first glance, it seemed to be a carefully coordinated dance only Merlin had so far perfected.
Another servant wearily walked past the warlock but even he couldn’t help but be affected by the joyous mood. Splitting off into another hallway, a large pit seemed to grow in his stomach. A few steps and he was greeted by two guards on either side of large wooden doors. With that continuing nervousness, he brought up his fist and knocked softly on the door.
A ‘ Come in’ sounded from the other side. Upon entering, the servant bowed. “Sire, I bring news from the kitchens. There seems to be a rather urgent matter.”
“And what could possibly be so urgent in the kitchens?” A voice asked behind a changing screen.
“Flowers, Milord.” The nervous servant said while standing up a bit straighter.
There was a pause, “Flowers Gregory?” the intimidating voice asked, “urgent indeed, are they poisonous.” You could feel the sarcasm from a mile (kilometer) away.
Gregory swallowed, “They were… conjured,” he started, lowering his head in fear, “by sorcery.”
Uthurs boots made heavy footsteps as he walked out from behind the screen, his face seething from both anger and a strange calmness. “Sorcery you say?”
The servant nodded profusely, “Yes, milord-”
“Hush now, Gregory. I am certain we have a suspect.” he commanded more than asked. (1)
Merlin never broke stride once he faced the door to Arthurs chambers. Holding the plate with both hands, he used magic to silently open the door wide enough for him to slip through.
He placed the food on the grand table while simultaneously putting Arthurs outfit together. Then like a man on a mission strided over to the velvet curtains, opening them with a flourish (flourish!). Sunlight quickly filled the room, “Rise and shine!” Merlin announced.
Arthur simply shuffled and buried his face into his pillow. “Again, why is it always the same thing!” Prince prat whined.
Merlin smiled (not that he ever stopped) and grabbed hold of the sheets, “Oh Arthur. It is because to me, only you can match the sun's brilliant beams, and only I can help you to rise and shine like the king you will soon be!” Arthur was now wide awake and had an odd expression on his face. Confused, shocked, mocking disgust, topped with a small blush.
“What?!” he called out, his voice higher than usual, before Merlin tugged on the sheets with a bit more power and they both came tumbling on the ground. “Merlin!”
Arthur couldn’t help but feel a little warmer on the inside from Merlin's proclamation. He may have had a small crush on the boy who took care of him on a daily basis. It was hard not too, especially today with his seemingly more cheerful attitude.
The manservant just laughed at the predicament and Arthur lost himself in the sound before something caught his eye. “Merlin, Watch out!” he grunted as he stood up and took a defensive position in front of the raven haired boy.
“What! What is it?” Merlin asked standing up as well. Arthur shushed him and pointed in the direction of his closet.
“The shirts,” He whispered, still pointing at the garments that appeared to be moving by themselves.
Merlin still appeared confused before a look of understanding took over his features. “Sorry, did you want to wear red or blue today?” he asked as both shirts presented themselves in front of Arthur.
Arthur could only freeze as his mind tried to process whatever this was. He blinked, “What!?”
“I mean you could wear the white one…” Merlin walks over with unnatural joyousness for so early in the morning and takes out the white tunic from the closet. “,but then someone might mistake you for some kind of angel.”
Without the prince ever making a decision, the red tunic, Arthurs trousers, belt, and boots all magically float themselves behind the screen. Arthur visibly flinched away before Merlin popped up behind him to push him behind the screen as well.
“Better get dressed, unless you plan on doing your princely duties like that.” he gestured to Arthurs bare chest. Arthur saw the clothes folded neatly there and he pocked them as if to see if they were dead or alive. Without finding anything wrong with them he started to put them on. He was surprised to find that when he finished he felt warmer and overall more awake.
When Arther finished, Merlin was making the bed and called over his shoulder, “Breakfast is on the table.” and with a flick of his wrist the sheets straighten themselves out.
Over on the table, water was pouring itself out of the pitcher and into Arthers golden goblet. Beautifully arranged flowers were freely growing in the middle of the table. Arthur cautiously sat down and took a bite of ham from the bountiful plate. It was delicious. Arthur had had enough.
“Okay! Am I dreaming?” He asks the universe, and Merlin… but mostly the universe.
“I know right? Everything just seems so wonderful today.” Merlin replied, oblivious to Arthurs downright horrified expression. Arthur couldn’t help but think the worst. Merlin must be enchanted, the food is putting everyone in an overly cheerful state and he’s next on the helpless charts, the citadel will be attacked any moment.
Arthur stands up and sheaths his sword. “Come on Merlin. I know you’re helpless right now but we must go before the magic attacks.” He heads toward the door, waiting for Merlin to follow him.
“Why would I attack you Arthur?” Merlin asks, not moving from his spot next to the fireplace. Arthur freezes and pivots to look back at his servant with wide eyes.
Before he can panic, because ‘oh my god! What have they done to Merlin’ the doors to the prince's chambers burst open. Result of Sir Gwaine, Lancelot, and Leon.
“Good Morning Gwaine, Lancelot, Leon.” Merlin nods to each of them cheerfully but they only stare back with different expressions of disbelief.
Arthur gets over himself as he is hopeful that some of his most trusted knights will tell him what's going on here. “What is the meaning of this?” he asks with all the noble authority he can muster.
Leon speaks up, “We were ordered to take Merlin to the throne room immediately.”
“-But we’re not going to of course.” Gwaine interferes.
Lancelot cuts in with urgency in his voice., “We need to get him out of Camelot!”
A light and free melody splashes away any flickering seriousness in the situation. Merlin's laugh brings all the attention to him. “What are you guys talking about? Besides, you know I can never leave Arthur's side.”
Arthur shakes his head because he’s already confused enough and refuses to try understanding anything else Merlin says. “I’m pretty sure Merlin has been enchanted, what we should be doing is bringing him to Gaius.” he looks to the knights in worry.
“Why don’t we just go see what the king could possibly want.” Merlin says, finally gliding to the door (to the surprise of everyone).
“Whoa now.” Lance says as he stops his friend from going and confirming his death sentence. “You can’t just walk up to Uthur. You do know why he wants you.” he hints strongly.
“I assure you, I have no idea what you're talking about.” Merlin brushes him off and begins off to the throne room. Shaking off the shock of their friend's odd behavior, the knights rush to catch up with him.
Arthur busts through the doors and meets eyes with the king. “Father! Someone’s enchanted my servant!” he points to Merlin's innocent face.
“I mean, I don’t believe so but I did have an overly restful sleep.” Merlin cuts in.
“And what makes you say that?” the king ignores the servant and looks at his son.
Not expecting the complete attention of the king, Arthur takes some time to respond, “He- He’s been acting strange all morning!” Uthur raises an eyebrow.
“Do you even know why he’s been ‘summoned’ here?”
“Well no-”
Uther stands, “Merlin, You have been accused of sorcery. Do you deny this?” Gasps fill the room while Arthur turns to see Merlin still in his overly cheerful mood.
“Of course I deny it.” Merlin says to the relief of Arther and the other knights, “I’m a warlock, not a sorcerer. Get your facts straight!”
“Father! He doesn’t know what he’s saying!” Arthur denies with all of himself. There are other cries of protest from the knights and the just arriving Gaius.
“My boy! What have you gotten yourself into!?”
“There are witnesses,” Uther begins, standing up from his throne, “of Mer lin conjuring flowers in the kitchens. We’ve had to evacuate them as who knows what the sorcerer (Warlock!)’s plan is with them.” The whole court is speechless now. The king addresses the guards, “take him to the cells, he’s to be executed before supper.”
Arthurs mind finally catches up to him, “No, there must be some sort of mistake-” he pleads as Merlin chats happily to the guards escorting him to the dungeons.
“Silence! If I were you, I’d be finding myself a new manservant right about now. And please make sure he’s not about to commit treason.” Uther sighes and struts out of the room because to him, this is a normal Thursday (raise your hand in the comments if you're reading this on a Thursday).
Arthur is left to watch helplessly, but he’s not about to let his best friend be executed without saying anything, so he makes his way down to the dungeons. He’s not surprised to see others join him, what can he say, Merlin was just naturally charming ‘not was Arthur, is , get it together!’.
Down in the cells, Merlin sits comfortably in the somehow warm cell when he sees Arthur and Gaius (the others were told to wait a bit so as to not crowd the room) rush closer to him.
“Oh hey Arthur! Don’t worry, I’ll finish all my chores later!” he says bright as ever.
The prince makes a rare worried expression, “Gaius what is wrong with him?”
“I don’t know sire but we have to get him out of here.”
“That won’t be a problem. They didn’t even shut the doors properly.” Merlin says and the doors pop open. That's when he saw it. Arthur froze. He hadn’t yet entertained the idea that Merlin was actually a sorcerer. Charming Merlin who he may kinda just a little like, couldn’t possibly be corrupted. However, it was that flash of gold in his eyes that made it undeniable. Merlin had magic.