Archive of Our Own ^beta

Merlin was a habitual liar.

This was known throughout the entirety of Camelot, including border villages that rarely received news from the capital. Stories of the prince's manservant would travel faster than the gossip regarding whether or not Lady Angharad laid with her handmaiden and the stable boy on a regular basis.

"You can't trust a word that boy says," people would swear, "but you will never meet a man more faithful."

His name, his physical description—they cared for none of it. All they wanted to know was what ridiculous lie he'd told this time.

"I'm the sorcerer!" on the first occasion that caught the attention of Miss Gwladus and spread throughout the kingdom faster than a dry harvest on fire.

"I was busy removing gnomes from your gardens. Again." on another.

"I think that hare was actually a jackalope, Arthur," on a hunt, as told by a squire invited along. "We should leave it alone."

"Eiludd is clearly a sorcerer," said while pointing at a horse. "In disguise, obviously."

And, of course, the fan favorite, weaseled out of one of the most loyal knights: "Poetry."

Why would they be interested in something bland like an affair of a woman most of them had never met when they could hear the increasingly ridiculous lies told by the prince's manservant?

But someone must have gotten fed up with all of the falsehoods. Someone must have decided, enough was enough. Because Merlin was placed under an enchantment that only allowed him to speak the truth… and nothing changed.

Coded whispers swept the land, spreading the rumor that the prince's manservant would no longer lie to everyone he met. That he would tell the open and honest truth, for a friend of a neighbor ran into a stranger in a bar who mentioned that they had slipped the unaware man a strong potion that was expected to last for at least a week.

To say nothing changed isn't entirely accurate, though. The lies, somehow, became more elaborate and convoluted.

-

"Sorry I was late, a wyvern came by and stole my satchel from me when I was picking herbs for Gaius. Those ones that are strongest when picked just before dawn, that Gaius insists I grab when they are at their prime." As if! As if there was a plant that was most potent at a particular time of day—and as if a wyvern was in Camelot, let alone attacked a lone servant, especially one who escaped unscathed.

"No, no, the wyvern wasn't trying to hurt me. It just wanted my bag, honest. Apparently they like to make their nests out of the plant I was collecting, but they have a hard time picking it cleanly enough from the ground on their own. To be frank, I'm surprised it hasn't happened before now."

Again: as if!

-

Then, there were the increasingly suicidal ones told directly to the king himself! "I apologize for Arthur being late to the feast; I was supposed to help him get ready but I was double-checking the strength of the anti-minotaur enchantments along the east wall when one broke through, and I know that the stonemason's wife is with child, so I didn't want him to have to go fix it when he just spent so long on such a large project, so I had to patch up the wall—twice, if you'd believe it! Not once, but twice a minotaur broke through the wall and I had to fix it! Do you have any idea how long that takes?"

Uther had long since stopped sentencing his son's manservant to the stocks. He was such a loyal boy, dedicated to giving his life for his prince. If only Arthur would stop shirking his responsibilities like that time where he'd gone and fallen head over heels for a lady he'd known less than a day! God forbid the boy learn some tact when crafting excuses for his son.

-

"Oh, yeah, you can ignore that stain. It's just blood from when that sea serpent somehow made its way to the large lake in the western section of the forest, just before the hills. Nearly swallowed me whole before remembering how to chew. That was a nightmare to escape from."

And, so what if the manservant had an issue with wine? It was a little pricey a habit, but at least he wasn't actually getting himself nearly killed—his lack of a wound was more telling than the ridiculousness of the lie.

-

"No, no, don't touch that! It's very fragile, and it needs to remain unblemished for at least another hour before the ghoul it contains is vanquished. It was very difficult to catch, so please don't undo my work. Please."

Ghouls couldn't be contained within solid spaces—everyone knew that! Besides, you had to be a sorcerer to manipulate one into a container, and those containers were just temporary preventatives—ghouls couldn't be vanquished, where did this boy get these ideas in his head?

-

"I know I'm soaking wet and the procession for whatever royal you're entertaining this week is in five minutes, a kappa in the river tried to drown me when I went to wash off the chickweed! It was infuriated that the greens I was holding weren't cucumber—do you know how hard that is to find this far west? It took me nearly three hours to convince it that if it let me go I would find some cucumber for it—and then I had to spend the next hour and a half searching the markets for those eastern traders. It didn't want the ones from the southern traders because they were 'far too small', it said! Can you believe that?"

Nobody had any clue what a kappa was, and they were somewhat afraid to ask. Whatever popped out of the boy's mouth in response to that question would be far too much for anyone to comprehend without fainting.

-

"Sorry if I was acting odd for the past day or so, I was trying to kill Arthur."

That boy had risked his skin for the prince countless times since he'd met him, including purposefully drinking poison to make a point! There was no way that he would have attempted to kill the prince.

-

"Leprechauns," was all he said on an occasion where he showed up with his skin and clothes physically tinged green! And , all of the silver in the vicinity looked terribly gold whenever he was near it for the next week. Not even the artists knew how color theory played into that.

-

"I got beheaded by an angry something-or-other. Apparently, I'm immortal, and nobody bothered to tell me!"

That lie spoke for itself—especially the lack of detail put into it. Clearly, the boy was running out of material and needed to read up on more obscure tales from before the purge if he wanted to come up with anything fresh.

-

"Have I mentioned that I'm immortal?" was the sole utterance when he showed up with his clothes all but burnt to a crisp. How he even managed that, the people did not know. They were, however, eagerly awaiting whatever far-fetched tall tale he told next. Hopefully there would be a return to the incredulity from before.

-

"Sorry for the mess, apparently I'm allergic to something in the last stew that the cook whipped up."

"Merlin, the room is on fire."

"Yeah, apparently that happens when I sneeze."

"Merlin. We're in the cellar. There isn't even anything to be set aflame."

"Allergies can be weird like that."

-

"Oh, this kitten? Yeah, it's actually Arthur. Some sorceress struck him with a glowing green ball and he transformed into this adorable little—ow! Arthur, stop that! Don't bite me, you prat!"

-

"Have you seen Sir Conrad recently? I'm pretty sure that he died or something, because I swear I saw his ghost last night, but I heard that he showed up for his shift this morning. No, no, I'm sure he'll be alright after some rest. It doesn't appear to be anything permanent."

-

"You will not touch him. If you even try, you will be dead. I will kill you."

"And who are you to stop me, the most powerful sorcerer to ever enter Camelot?"

"All of Albion, actually."

-

After the last one, he was appointed Court Sorcerer. Apparently he hadn't been lying all along—would you look at that?