Even Just Building The Story Around Potential Smut Helps Me Flesh Out My Stories! And I Don't Even Write

Silly Little Halloween Story Idea

Hello everyone! While I'm working on my next au, I had a fun little idea for another Halloween au! I don't really have the time to flesh this out, but I wanted to share it anyways!

Basically, in this au, everything in the show goes the exact same way as in canon, including the ending. Arthur dies, and Merlin left to wander the earth without him.

Except this is Merlin we're talking about here. There's no force in the universe that's strong enough to keep Merlin from Arthur's side, not even death.

So, Merlin starts bargaining with the Sidhe, who refuse to give him any information until he forces them to talk. They reveal that Arthur's soul is resting in the Underworld while his body rested in the lake, kept pristine by its magic until the day he was fated to rise again.

Merlin then takes the natural next step of opening a portal to the Underworld and stepping through it while armed with Excalibur, ready to annihilate anything that gets in his way.

So, Merlin fights his way through the Underworld Doomslayer-style, searching for his king. There are, of course, many monsters that he fights along the way, but they're no match for Merlin's magic and the power held in Excalibur.

Finally, after fighting monsters and making his way to the center of the Underworld, a high-ranking demon finally gives him some answers: the King of the Underworld knows that Merlin is seeking out Arthur's soul, but he refuses to give Arthur back to Merlin willingly.

Merlin then begins his trek towards the King of the Dead's palace, cutting down any beast that stands in his way, until he finally faces the demonic King of the Underworld himself. It was a brutal battle, but Merlin ends up victorious and claims the throne of the Underworld for himself. The demonic monsters, who value strength above all else, are more than happy to pledge their loyalty to a stronger king than the one they had before.

No sooner than Merlin sat on the throne of the dead, he demanded that Arthur's soul be brought to him.

The demon forcibly leading Arthur into the throne room: We have done as you requested, Sire.

Arthur, upon seeing Merlin sitting on a throne with demons bowing to him: Merlin, I've only been gone for half a year, WTF?

Merlin, looking VERY demonic but overjoyed to see Arthur again:

That's all on this idea for now, but I might expand on it later! I think Merlin overthrowing the King of the Underworld and become a Demon King just to get Arthur back would be a fun story lol!

I would love a continuation for the Disir-AU! And I’d love it even more if you put it on ao3 👀

Aww, thank you so much! I'm working on a part 2 for the Disir au, so that'll hopefully be up soon! As for putting it on ao3, I might do that if I reach a point where I think the story is 'finished', like what I did with the archeologist Merlin and immortal Camelot au.

I've thought about this before!! I would really love to see the whole series from Arthur's POV, and I don't mean just showing different scenes either. I'm talking different camera angles, color grading, background music, and a whole different tone to the show!

I say this because it seems like, at times, Merlin and Arthur are going about their lives in two completely different genres of stories.

Because, while we see all the trauma and pain Merlin goes through throughout the entire series and we get to see the series as a whole become darker with Merlin's darkening worldview, Arthur has the opposite experience. As the series goes on, he becomes more lighthearted, growing as a person. It seems like, at some points, that Arthur is going through his life like he's in a fairytale or a rom-com, while Merlin is going through... all of that.

So, in this Arthur's POV, everything, especially in the later seasons, would be lighter, more colorful, more alive than what we see from season 4 onwards. Arthur's POV would look more like a conventional fairytale, because that's what his experience, up until the finale, has been.

You know it would be so funny

If BBC released two versions of Merlin side by side

Like some people would get what is already the show

Other people get the show from arthurs perspective showing scenes where merlin isn't there and arthur is doing stuff etc

And the people who get the arthur version don't get to find out merlin had magic till the last episode.

Imagine the fan theories of those watching the arthur version, especially at seeing old merlin and the dolma.

Imagine all the fans by at least the last season kinda expecting merlin to have magic at that point.

Imagine them seeing the last episode and breaking down cuz how dare it end like that

Then imagine them finding out about the OG merlin show and watching the scenes from his perspective and getting even more devastated at seeing just how much merlin did for arthur.

This would have been truly evil of BBC to do and I respect them less for not doing it

Hello everyone! Thank you all for your support for the "Arthur misunderstands what a warlock is" au! Here's part two! You can find part one here!

As a quick recap, is this au Uther spread propaganda that warlocks were soul-eating demons in order to justify killing young warlocks. When Merlin finally reveals his magic to Arthur, Arthur's fairly chill with it, up until he realizes that Merlin's a warlock. Then, Arthur thinks that Merlin needs to eat souls in order to survive, and orders Merlin to kill a prisoner who was going to be executed the next day to make sure that Merlin was "fed".

And without further ado, on to the new stuff!

In the days following the... meal that Arthur had provided him, Merlin still wasn't looking any better, much to Arthur's dismay. Arthur agonized over the situation for many nights, unable to come up with any solution. They didn't have any criminals currently being held in the dungeons, and there weren't many bandits left in the woods for Merlin to feed on.

However, despite Merlin still looking tired and restless in the days following his "meal", he started to slowly look better after a week had passed, so Arthur, with a heavy heart, counted his plan as a success. Eating the criminal's soul really had reinvigorated Merlin, and wasn't that just terrible? As guilty and sick as Arthur felt about the whole situation, he could only imagine how Merlin had felt, carrying this burden for his entire life.

Merlin was such a gentle and kind soul, crying over unicorns and sick kittens! Arthur knew that this terrible burden must haunt Merlin like nothing else, being forced to devour the souls of others in order to keep himself alive.

Based on his observations over the past months, Arthur could see that Merlin never went actively hunting for prey, only waiting until an enemy of Camelot showed up for him to quietly dispatch. Arthur could see plainly that Merlin would rather starve than seek out a meal, and that most certainly was a problem.

Arthur wasn't sure what would happen if Merlin starved himself, if he would either lose control over himself and devour whatever poor souls he could find or would simply weaken and wither away, but Arthur wasn't keen on seeing such a thing happen. Merlin seemed to be able to go several weeks in between feedings, and there generally was one execution a month with how many bandits, assassins, and vengeful sorcerers came to Camelot, so if he...

Arthur swallowed dryly as guilt and self-disgust welled up in this throat. He... he didn't want to do this. Hell, he knew that Merlin surely wouldn't want to do this, even if it is for his sake!

But what other choice did he have? As awful as it was to admit it, Merlin's life meant far more to Arthur than any enemy's soul. If Merlin wasn't going to actively seek out souls, then Arthur had to hand them over to him, whether Merlin liked it or not.

Meanwhile, Merlin wasn't having a very good time.

He had thought that he was prepared for any negative reaction from Arthur to the news of his magic. And Arthur had been so accepting of Merlin's magic when they finally sat down together and talked about everything! Arthur had even become accustomed to seeing Merlin use magic for his chores! Arthur was comfortable with him, magic and all!

But Merlin had been so, so naive and hopeful. He had hoped that showing Arthur the softer, more mundane uses of magic would give him a new perspective on magic, teaching him that magic was not just the fearsome weapon that Arthur had been raised and conditioned to view it as.

And Merlin had thought that he was doing so well. Arthur didn't so much as bat an eye when Merlin used magic to scrub the floors or polish his armor! Arthur was comfortable with eating magically-heated food and sleeping in clothes covered in protection enchantments!

Arthur was clearly still comfortable with Merlin, and he still trusted Merlin! Merlin had shown him the softer side of magic, and yet...

Yet Arthur had taken him down into the dungeons and ordered him to execute a prisoner with his magic.

Arthur had looked him dead in the eyes and told him to kill the imprisoned noble in cold blood, and then was too disgusted with Merlin to even watch as his loyal manservant carried out his orders, harshly twisting the noble's neck with a simple spell.

Merlin couldn't fall asleep that night. Every time he closed his eyes, he either saw the noble's blank, dead stare or, even worse, Arthur's stern expression as he ordered Merlin to take a life with his magic.

It wasn't the first time Merlin had killed someone with his magic, not by far, but it was the first time he had done so outside of battle, on an unarmed enemy. It was the first time he had killed on Arthur's orders, and he wasn't sure who he was more disappointed in: Arthur or himself.

But the worst part of it all was that it proved Merlin wrong: he hadn't made as much progress with improving Arthur's opinion of magic as he had thought.

Arthur clearly still thought of magic and now, by extension, Merlin himself as a weapon, one that could be harnessed against his enemies. One that had been used against his enemies for years, without his knowledge.

Merlin felt helplessly stuck. He had done all he could to show Arthur how wonderful magic could be, yet the only use Arthur saw for it was as an executioner's blade!

Was that truly the only use Arthur saw for Merlin now that he knew the truth? The very thought of it hurt, it made Merlin want to curl up on his bed and sob and never have to face the world ever again.

Still, despite Arthur ordering Merlin to execute a man with his magic, Merlin persisted in his efforts to show Arthur the more wonderous side of magic. He doubled down on showing Arthur all of the useful littler enchantments that he knew and all of the beautiful things he could create with his magic.

And once again, for several weeks Merlin had thought that he was making progress! That was, until an assassin targeting Arthur was caught by the knights and sentenced to die the next day.

That night, when Arthur sent for Merlin, he knew exactly what Arthur wanted.

Once again, Merlin slowly followed Arthur down to the dungeons, he was fighting tears the entire way down. Was this supposed to be his punishment for lying to Arthur for ten years? Forcing him to commit atrocities with the magic he was trying so hard to show was not a thing to be feared?

Arthur slowly led him to the same cell as before, with the assassin tied to a chair in the middle, just as the noble had been. Merlin turned to Arthur with tears in his eyes, only to be met with grim determination from his king.

"Please," he nearly sobbed out, hoping his friend would take pity on him, "please, I don't want to do this. My mag- I'm not meant to do this. This is not what I was made for, what I was born to do."

Merlin thought that he saw tears gathering in Arthur's eyes as well for a split second, but they were gone in an instant, replaced with cold determination.

"I know that you don't want to do this, but despite what any of us may wish, this is what you are meant to do, Merlin. You must do this."

Merlin lowered and shook his head slowly, unable, or perhaps unwilling, to process the awful things that Arthur was saying. How could he possibly think that? He really did think so low of Merlin that he would claim all Merlin was good for was for, all his magic was good for, was senseless violence.

"No, Arthur, I won't- I can't do this!"

Merlin looked up again, ready to plead with Arthur, to try and make him see reason, only to see Arthur at the door of the cell, blocking the only exit.

"I'm sorry, Merlin." Arthur's voice was thick with sorrow and remorse, and Merlin didn't know why. Why was Arthur doing this? Why would he feel so remorseful over something that was completely unnecessary?! Merlin stared at his friend in shock and disbelief as Arthur cleared his throat and spoke again.

"I'm sorry, but you need to do this. Neither of us are leaving until it's done."

Merlin choked back more sobs and slowly turned to face the prisoner, wondering how Arthur could be so cruel.

Merlin made the deed itself quick, not wanting to make this any longer than it needed to be for everyone involved. A simple flash of gold in his eyes, and the assassin was dead.

Merlin was unable to sleep that night, too haunted by the anger in Arthur's eyes to find any rest.

What was perhaps even more disturbing for Merlin was Arthur's insistence on still acting normal, like nothing was wrong at all, in the days following the execution. Arthur's willful avoidance of the topic was confusing and frustrating in equal amounts.

Still, Merlin continued serving Arthur. He had to hold out hope that things would get better, that Arthur would learn that magic was more than just violence. What other choice did he have? He had gotten this far with his destiny, he couldn't stop now, not when they were so close to the golden age!

The weeks went on, and Merlin thought he saw more improvement in Arthur's opinion of magic, but doubt was always present. Merlin held his breath now whenever Arthur sentenced criminals, praying that none of them would be sentenced to execution, as he knew what would happen next.

However, as more weeks went by and no executions were scheduled, Merlin slowly let himself relax. Perhaps Arthur had seen reason after all!

Merlin carried this hope with him into the spring, which brought with it more frequent hunting trips and patrols. And when he and Arthur went on a hunting trip or a patrol, trouble was always found.

In their current situation, "trouble" took the form of an angry Sidhe, which still held a grudge against Merlin for murdering two of their own and ruining their plans to take over Camelot.

The good news was that Merlin was able to beat the Sidhe, banishing it back to Avalon. The bad news was that the Sidhe had managed to land a rather powerful spell on Merlin, which left him with several broken bones and various injuries.

Merlin groaned where he laid prone on the ground, glad to see that everyone else was unharmed, but unable to ignore the pain burning throughout his body. Anyone else would have probably died from his injuries, but even now he could feel his magic mending his bones and flesh. But despite his magic already trying to heal him, everything hurt like hell.

As Merlin tried to sit up, Arthur rushed over to his side, supporting him as his back protested his every movement. Merlin smiled at Arthur gratefully, trying to alleviate his friend's worry, but he soon became concerned that Arthur took a blow to the head while fighting, as Arthur started rambling nonsense at him.

"Merlin! You haven't eaten in week! It's no wonder you got so hurt, you've been starving yourself you idiot! You... you'll recover, right? You have enough energy and magic to heal yourself?"

Merlin groaned in pain as he tried to make sense of what Arthur was saying. What did it mater how long it had been since he ate?

"I- I can recover, yes. My magic is doing all it can for me right now, but it'll be slow. I'll probably be fine, I've come back from worse."

Merlin tried to give Arthur his most reassuring grin, but Arthur only paled further.

"But you were... you say that your magic is doing all that it can, but it can't fully heal you right now, can it? You need..."

Merlin watched, confused, as Arthur paused to blink back tears. What on earth was going on?

"You need to eat, Merlin. And there's no- there's no bandits, no assassins, no criminals anywhere around for us to use but you need one!"

Merlin just stared at Arthur, still unable to grasp what was going on. He glanced behind Arthur at the knights, and while Gwaine, Elyan, and Percival looked just as lost as he felt, all of the other knights looked upon Merlin and Arthur with looks of shocked horror.

"Arthur, what are you-"

"No, this needs to be done. Merlin, Camelot needs you. I know that we face much adversity despite accepting magic now, and Camelot needs its greatest protector. There will only ever be one Emrys. But a king? A king is replaceable. Should I fall, Gwen will take my place, and I have np doubts that she will be a fair, just, and wise sovereign for Camelot.

It is fitting, as I have condemned others to this fate for the sake of my kingdom, that I should bare the same end."

"What are you even talking about?! Did you hit your head while I wasn't looking?"

Arthur shook his head, tears now flowing freely down his cheeks. Yup, Merlin decided, Arthur definitely had a concussion. He'd have to get Gaius to check him over once they returned to Camelot.

"No, Merlin, please stop denying the situation. You need a soul to eat if you're going to recover, and I am offering you my own!"

Merlin blinked, wondering if perhaps he was the one that had a concussion instead of Arthur. Because there was no way that he had heard that correctly.

Following Arthur's tearful outburst, Leon rushed forwards, grabbing ahold of a weeping Arthur's shoulders. Good, Merlin thought, Leon was a very sensible man, he would surely make Arthur see reason!

"No, sire! You can't! The kingdom needs you just as much as it needs Merlin! I will offer myself in your place! Merlin, you must take my soul instead!"

... Or not.

Had everyone hit their heads? Perhaps the Sidhe had cast some madness-inducing spell before he had banished it? And why were they going on about souls?

"Hold on now, what are talking about? Why would I be taking anyone's soul?"

Leon and Arthur stared blankly at him, as if he was the one spewing nonsense, until Leon cleared his throat and responded in a hesitant voice, "But... but isn't that how warlocks like you fuel their powers?"

There was a brief pause as the air held still before Merlin finally forced words past his dumbfounded lips.

"YOU IDIOTS THOUGHT I DID WHAT?!"

And that's a wrap on this au for now! Thank you all for your support and your patience! This turned out to be much longer than I anticipated!

A big thank you to everyone who requested this continuation! I'll try to tag you all here, my apologizes if I forget anyone, there were quite a few of you! @veryroadpartystatesman-blog, @cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu, @that-nerd-who-writes-fanfiction, @keitorin3, @chaosofbelievers, @stateofdreaming14, @melodymeddler, @arrowlovesdragons, @notquitehumanwrites, @caraspud, @ikol-art, @linotheghost, @murder-drones-4ever, @error-username-not-available, @theroundbartable, @magicalmischel, @skatercashew, @xxv2axx, @tobythetrashytrash, @auldsusie, @everything-but-the-not-natural, @ramadiiiisme, @idk-anymore-mydudes, @tamaha, @kissme-withyour-cherrylipstick, @merthurogies

Once again, thank you all for exploring this au with me! I'll be back soon with a new au idea! Until next time!

And, as always, thank you for reading through my ramblings! :D

"Why." It slips out of his lips before Arthur's dignity can catch up with his tongue and spare him, at least, this last shame.

Agravaine scoffs. "Your father bartered my sister's life for an heir. He was the mind behind her murder, but you were the hand." A shake of the head. "I'd sooner die than see you on her throne."

There is so much Arthur wants to scream at him. A defense for his father -he loved her-, defense for himself -I was a child-, but he's rendered speechless by the realization that all these months at his court, his uncle had not been on his side for a single day. He's followed plans of this man, he'd killed on his advice, he'd questioned the loyalty of friends who deserved better than that. On a traitor's word, he'd left his walls unprotected as the snake grew inside them.

"You will not get away with-" His heroic, if empty, threats are silenced by the gag that Cenred returns to his mouth, a bored expression on his face.

"We should just kill him and put his head on a spike on the inner wall. That will stop the peasant resistance quick enough."

On his knees in his own hall of ceremonies, Arthur has no idea of the state of the fight outside. He'd ordered his men to surrender, to spare their lives at least, but some refused the order and kept fighting in the streets. And for some forsaken reason the people of Camelot joined them.

When all he can see are streaks of smoke rising in the thin darkness of the evening, shades of orange painting pictures on the ceiling, Arthur can only imagine the carnage that is being consumed in his streets. The mere though pierces through his chest like a spear.

"Let the peasants die if they want," Agravaine waves a hand. "Believe me, I wouldn't mind killing my nephew right now either, but we need to secure this allegiance and his head might be our only way there."

"Yes, Morgause mentioned," Cenred stalks lazily to the long table of the feast he interrupted. He searches among the plates for a piece of dried fruit, then takes off one blood-soaked glove to toss the treat into his mouth. "Why is it that we need this wizard, exactly? I've seen what a single High Priestess can do; I can only imagine what a pair of sisters could achive." Agravaine looks pointedly at Arthur. Cenred rolls his eyes, and gathers for himself another sweet plum. "He's going to be dead in a few hours anyway. What does it matter what he hears?"

"You know it's not the magic that we lack, it's legitimacy," Agravaine seems, at least, as disgusted as Arthur feels. Except, he leans against the table to stare down at his bound and gagged nephew, so maybe not that disgusted.

As long as they're toying with him, at least, they are not toying with Guinevere. That is the one thought that keeps Arthur's spine straight through the humiliation: that his wife was sent to the dungeons with distracted orders, along with other prisoners of lower rank, men and women both, so maybe, just maybe, she could live through this ordeal. If it is Arthur's time, maybe it doesn't have to be hers as well.

"Legitimacy? They are blessed by the Goddess and I am the rightful king," Cenred scoffs.

"Not of Camelot. But fear not, Morgana has the claim to the throne, it is not the succession line that is in question." With the tip of the same dagger he'd used to cut the cape off of Arthur's shoulders, the clothes off his chest and back, leaving him in trousers and linen shirt, Agravaine points to the windows and the screams still rising beyond them, coming muffled into the air of the room. "The prophecies of old are the problem. They still have power over the Old Religion folks. You think the Catha were the only ones who turned on us? You think the druids will be the only to refuse the priestess' call? This is only the beginning."

"The Cathas are a dying breed and the druids have never seen a fight in their lives, who cares on whose side they choose to make their stand?" The fruit's seed is spat on the floor. It echoes against the tall walls and the broken bodies of the soldiers who died trying to save their king. "They will see that we cannot be stopped soon enough, and then-"

"Can we not?" Agravaine interrupts. "It is way too early to make such a bold claim, my lord."

Cenred meets Agravaine's eyes very slowly. He picks a small morsel of cheese, swallows it with lazy abandon and then picks at a piece of something left between his teeth with the nail of his little finger. "This wizard?"

"A fraud, most likely," Agravaine shakes his head. "Claims the throne of First of the Dragonlords, but everybody knows Uther put an end to that kind long ago. Still, rumours have spread and now many of the magical creature believe him to be the mythical Emrys. The greatest sorcerer to ever walk the Earth. The right hand to the king of prophecies."

"If you truly think him a fraud, then why do you suppose we need an allegiance with him? I cannot understand this. Why cannot Morgause and Morgana just kill him?"

"A fraud on our side is better than the true thing in hiding. So long as Emrys doesn't side with us, we will meet opposition from those who interpret it as his hostility. We need his support, if we are to turn all of magic against Camelot." Then, because Cenred arches a brow dauntly at him, Agravaine scoffs. "Furthermore, there is no hint as to who this person could be, or where. This is our chance for a meeting, and we must open it with a tempting offer, just in case."

"Ah," Cenred turns back to the table, taps his finger on the wood a couple times as he surveyed the spread of goods. He chooses a cup from a knight' seat - Gwaine's, Arthur's head scream, and good knows if the knight is still alive to reclaim it one day - and pours himself from a pitcher. Rich dark wine fills the goblet to the brim. Agravaine rolls his eyes at the big mouthful the king takes. "And how exactly are we supposed to recognise this great wizard?" Cenred says, licking his lips from stray drops.

Agravaine's face twists in barely contained disgust. "Well, he's going to walk in here and demand the prince of Camelot's head for himself, for one. Morgana sent word through the grapevine, that the prize is his to claime. How hard can it be to discern him, then?"

"I was merely thinking about all the times I've seen Morgana disfigure herself into an old crone, or Morgause turn her own appearance into someone else's." Cenred's steps are measured and quiet as he walks the table's edge from the sides to the center, to where Agravaine waits in front of the seats of honor. "It seems disingenuous to assume that, what, he's going to be old and decrepit and wear robes and a white beard? A staff, perhaps? Maybe a raven on his shoulder too, for flavour?"

When Cenred stops, he's just at Arthur's side and looks down on him with a pensive look. The goblet is still in his hand, and the king takes another sip. Arthur strains against his bonds, but he just as successful as another piece of cattle auctioned in the market.

"With all due respect, milord, what are you insinuating?" Agravaine asks, though there's not much respect in his tone of voice.

"Indulge me in a bit of thought." Cenred turns suddenly from Arthur, stands right in front of Agravaine. "Say this wizard is not a fraud at all. Say he is the Emrys of legends, and say that the Catha, the druids, the water sprites and the fae - all those who refused our call were right and he is not happy about this whole matter at all-," he gestures once, wide, with the arm holding the cup to the bloodied room, the scenery outside the windows, the kneeling king at last, "-how are we to know that he's not going to simply walk in here disguised as, say, a soldier? A servant? A noble, perhaps; someone above all suspicions?"

"How dare you." Agravaine has stiffened, clearly at the end of his rope, turning away from Arthur to face the other king instead, where Cenred has moved to his side now. "You accuse me of being an imposter?! I have the lady Morgana's protective sigil right here with me!"

It strikes Arthur all of a sudden, now that he stares at Cenred's calculating profile as he faces off his uncle, that he'd never seen a man of royal blood stepping into a room silently, much less unnoticed. When the attack was started, Agravaine had been sitting at his side, had waited for the perfect moment to point a dagger at Guinevere's throat and force Arthur into stillness; but Cenred, he must have been outside leading the charge, must have been with his men, and he must have entered from the main doors right at Arthur's back, right in Agravaine's face.

Yet, no matter how much he thinks about it, Arthur cannot remember the exact moment when Cenred joined them.

Agravaine has pulled out what looks like a twisted rendition of a druidic rune, and holds it dangling from his hand for the king to examine. It is made of three twigs from petrified trees, tied in a triangular shape with animal sinew and smeared with a thick, heavy substance of dark brown shade, crystalised.

Cenred looks at it with an arched brow and picks it delicately between two fingers to turn it this and that way. "So this is why nothing worked," he says.

"What-"

Arthur sees them both only by the side but that is still enough to see Cenred's eye glow gold, a brief second before Agravaine's talisman breaks off the leather string in his hand. It falls right into the cup and the wine explodes in burst of flames.

Agravaine shouts and falls back two steps. The cup is left to drop on the floor, and Arthur watches it clang against the stone floor only to spill nothing but dark, dry ashes.

The doors open to let inside an endless stream of soldiers in Essetir's colors. Cenred points to Agravaine, "Treason! The snake du Bois turns on us! Seize him!"

It is a useless endeavour, Agravaine's attempt at swaying the soldiers by turning the accusations on the men's king. Arthur watches that knowledge dawn quickly on his uncle's face, and soon the man has a sword in hand and is fighting for his life.

Just as soon, he feels a tug on his shirt and he chokes into coughs as he's dragged to his feet. "Cover me," Cenred orders his men as they let him through. "This prisoner belongs to the High Priestess. Don't let the traitor get him!"

Arthur tries to see - wants to see - the moment Agravaine is overcome by the enemies, but he can only be dragged backwards so far before he starts losing his balance. When he's forced to turn to follow after his captor, he tries to understand what's happening by hearing alone. There is a lot of screeches of metal and grunts of men, but nothing more.

They are in the hallway in a second.

Cenred doesn't take him to the end of it. Instead, halfway through, he pushes against a tapestry on the wall and all but tosses Arthur through the servants door hidden behind.

He should fight, Arthur thinks distractedly; try to get free, at the very least. For what, though? The castle is overrun, he doesn't know where his knights are, his wife is still a prisoner. This man, whoever he might be underneath the face of Essetir's king, has taken him from Agravaine's hands and that is more help than he'd expected to receive, so soon after this last betrayal.

He also seems to know the layout of his castle almost better than Arthur himself. He takes turns without hesitation, navigates the labyrinth of the easement passages with ease, knows when to tread quietly for they are passing by occupied rooms and when to hurry in a quick run to gain advantage on those who must be looking for them.

At one point, Arthur hears Cenred's voice, but it is beyond a wall and it souds absolutely enraged.

This Cenred doesn't seem to notice, too focused ahead of himself.

Arthur hasn't truly used this passages in a long time - ever since he was a boy trying to evade his tutors -, but he figures out their path with the landmarks he can, until Cenred stops by a door and turns to meet his eyes with a mistrustful look. "This will be much easier if you have your hands free," he says, and Arthur tenses all muscles when he hears a horse's neigh. "Can I trust you not to stab me in the back?"

As efficiently as he'd gagged him, this Cenred frees his mouth. Arthur spits dust and saliva at his feet, and glares, but nods stiffly.

"Very reassuring." Still, the man walks around him. A sound of blade against leather, then blade against rope, then suddenly Arthur is free.

The temptation to turn and punch is strong, but he holds himself back. Instead, he grabs Cenred by the wrist when the man reaches for the door. "I can't leave," he declares. "My people-"

"What, you really think it's just peasants fighting out there?" The sorcerer shakes his head somewhat pityingly. The urge to punch him grows stronger. "Your knights never made it to the dungeons. They should have ensured a safe route for you and your queen, by now."

"Camelot-"

"-is lost. There is nothing you can do now. Go, find shelter and regroup. You have allies that will help you retake your throne, but you need to live to save your people from the shadow of Morgana's tyranny."

The man - Arthur thinks, for a second, he sees the dark eyes of Cenred turn blue before they flare in gold - makes a quick gesture of the hand, and several thuds sound off from behind the door. When he pushes it open, brazenly, Arthur finds six soldiers of Agravaine lying on the ground. Their horses, saddled and ready, huff at the new arrivals but none screeches in alarm; they just stand meekly where they are.

Bridles are offered to him. Arthur takes them hesitantly. "Go," he hears, from the back he watches running to the door of the stables. "I will try and help as I can, but you must be quick."

There is not much to say to that, so he climbs on the horse. Cenred grabs the handle of the stable doors and meets his eyes for a confirmation. "Is it true?" Arthur cannot help but ask. "Are you Emrys, and do you oppose Morgana?"

"What is it that's so hard to understand about hurry-" Cenred glares at him. "That is what the druids call me, and I less oppose Morgana than I serve you."

Something tugs at Arthur's chest, a boiling in his blood that smells like a battlefield after victory. "Why," he asks, even though something in his bones screams that it's true and right and owed to him, yes.

Cenred's whole face softens lightly, years shaved off him for a second. "Because you will be the greatest king of all, and I will do anything in my power to see it happen."

"Must be a lot of power, if you're such a great wizard."

"Technically, a warlock."

"Yet you cannot give me back my castle right now, because-?"

A flash of disbelief runs across the man's face, then it's Cenred's face again, twisted in annoyed mask. "Oh, just get going, you-"

He pulls the door open mid-sentence. Arthur sees the soldiers outside that stop on their tracks at the gesture, sees the recognition on their faces, and instinct takes over.

His heels find the horse's flanks and they are running, flying past Cenred as he gets shrouded in shadows, and they are in the courtyard, then past the inner gates, then past the middle ones. He's in the lower town faster than any regular animal oughts to be able to run and then, in a second he's surrounded by red.

Bright, rich, powerful, familiar red.

"Sire!" Leon shouts as he brings his horse up to Arthur's side. "This way."

Percival closes ranks behind them, shielding Arthur from any possible stray arrows aimed at his back. At the last gates, Elyan and Gwaine are fighting tooth and nails to keep Cenred's men from reaching the argans and raise the bridge. When they see their companions arriving, Elyan manages to get on his horse, grab Gwaine by an arm to pull him up as well, and they are all off.

They are on safe ground outside of Camelot when, with a creak, the iron bars of the gate come crashing down on their own, and the elevating bridge lifts of its own accord, closing all the way up in spite of the voices ordering to lower it down again.

Arthur's blood keeps pumping into his ears, making rumbles of his knights' voices, until they reach the forest edge and he sees it. A single horse, with a single knight in crimson cape, and sitting astride, still in the blue dress of the feast, Guinevere.

She shakes in her seat, but Lancelot is quicker and, rather than letting her jump down and run their way, he pushes his horse in a gallop to meet them.

Arthur is freezing and in shame. He dares not imagine how many bruises and cuts, how much blood, is on his person to make Guinevere - who has seen many a terrible thing - sob that way. He reaches a hand out and finds hers and the world settles in his skin again.

Camelot is not lost, the wind sings as it ruffles his hair. The earth growls in every thud of hoof against the forest floor, your rule doesn't end today. There is fire in his chest and it promises vengeance. For some reason, his mind keeps picturing lake waters for a safe rest.

"Are we all-" he cannot find it in himself, to finish the question.

Leon is prompt to answer nonetheless. "No, Sire. When we were freed from the dungeons, so were many others. We left all wounded and simple soldiers under Gaius' charge, to find a safe place to hide in the forest. They wait for us at the caves by Lake Avalon."

"Let's go, then." For a moment, he hesitates. Decades old fear clumps his throat with mud. He thinks, truly with belief, that he's going to let it die.

Then, he meets Lancelot's eyes above Guinevere's hair, and many a memory of loyalty, care and friendship submerge him. "When you split-" he asks, to all of them but to him above others, "-did you see...?"

Leon's horse huffs nervously under his rider's command. "Sire, it was chaos. It all happened so quickly, and our priority was you-"

"I saw him," Lancelot says. "Merlin was just ahead of us, with the soldiers of the front line. He was among those that broke free first. He joined Gaius in evacuating as many as possible, I'm sure."

Too sure. Too quick to reply. His horse uneasy under the clenching of his thighs.

Arthur nods, though he doesn't relax much. "Good," he says. To a degree, he might even mean it.

He's still thinking about it, though, as they run through the forest, in spite of the dark, headed to the lake.

About how the warlock got into the castle unnoticed, when the real Cenred was out there for all his people to see. How demurely he'd moved in the Hall, almost unnoticed even in plain sight. How all the serving passages had been known to him like the back of his hand.

He thinks of words spoken in the chaos of fight, a promise of greatness that rang true and well-known, repeated and committed to memory. He thinks that the last word the man spoke his way, the last address he used after my lord, sire and king, might have been another, much-used title of his.

A Cenred who was younger, a Cenred with blue eyes, glowering and scoffing and uttering, "prat."

If he's to be found, miracolously, among the refugees when no one else caught sight of hide or tail of him during the fight, Merlin - technically, his servant - will have some explaining to do that Arthur has all intention of drawing out of him.

Loved the “Arthur misunderstands what a warlock is" au! I completely get it if you’re done with that one and want to move on to the next idea, but I’d be very curious to read how the rest react to finding out how wrong they were? Perhaps some guilt as Arthur realises what he forced Merlin to do? But again, completely get it if you’re done! Thank you for sharing to begin with!

Thank you so much! I'll probably revisit the "Arthur misunderstands what a warlock is" au later on to write the aftermath of Arthur's terrible misunderstanding. It might be a while before I get to it since I have a lot of other au ideas that I want to share, but I will do a part 3 for that au eventually! In the meanwhile, I can say that Arthur is definitely having a rough time with his guilt, but also questioning why Merlin went along with it in the first place. I imagine that conversation would go something like this:

"If you thought that I was some soul eating beast, why the hell would you sacrifice prisoners?! Why would you do something so horrible for someone you saw as a monster?"

"Because you're still you, Merlin! And even when I believed such awful things about warlocks, I couldn't see you as anything but the kind-hearted fool who's the strongest man I know but still cries when he sees a baby deer! Despite everything, I couldn't see you as anything other than my closest friends, and I didn't want to lose you to some terrible hunger when I knew that I could provide for you, however horrible the method was!"

But Arthur's also feeling incredibly guilty that he had also abused Merlin's complete trust in him that way. What did it say about how deeply Merlin trusted Arthur if, from Merlin's perspective, Arthur had randomly commanded him to kill two men, to bloody his own hands, for no given reason, and Merlin still did as Arthur asked. Merlin would go to such lengths simply because Arthur commanded it, and wasn't that just an awful thing for Arthur to think about?

I'll end this for now, but this au will return (after I've posted a couple of new au ideas)!

Thanks for the question! :D

@sugar-coated-prat-dragon They all knew that my ideas were too powerful 😔

New REBLOG Game

Just fucking lie about the previous poster

Baby Aithusa AND baby Merlin?! I cannot handle all of this cuteness! 😍

Full of Snausage!

(Inspired by this post)