The Story Of The Once and Future King and His Servant

CHAPTER 3: The Dragon's Call ("Special")

The dungeons were filthy, dark, and cold. Being thrown into a cell picked up so much dust that it made Merlin sneeze and cough. It only took a few minutes of silence before he began to feel the anxiety build up. 

He’s in a cell of the kingdom that mercilessly kills his kind. Was this what the other sorcerers felt while they waited for their impending death in the morning? No. They had to have felt much worse. Merlin is only here for talking back to the pompous prince, which he had to remind himself a few times.

Then his thoughts turned to the apparent Prince Arthur. The one who got him here in the first place. Thinking of the blonde made him irritated, but better at the same time. He paced in the small cell for the first few hours. The mind that was once filled with the ruthless execution of innocents was refilled with the gorgeous man that had Merlin’s knee buckling. Concentrating on keeping himself up helped pass the time by.

But Merlin started to feel a dull pain at the bottom of his feet. He tried to ignore it, but the pain grew and with a groan he sat in the corner of the cell. Knees held up to his chest. His head went back to Arthur, who’s hair shone along with the Sun, eyes that rivaled the blue of the sea, muscles that could cover Merlin’s whole body. Merlin blushed as he buried his face into his knees.

Though his image spoke. The words Arthur spoke earlier today came out and the picture perfect man he thought up cracked. He groaned and the blush turned more into an angry flush. 

Why do this one boy have so much power over Merlin’s emotions? They’ve never met. Obvious by how Merlin didn’t know to recognize the bloody Prince of Camelot. That was their first interaction and it was horrible. Yet his magic reacted to Arthur. It’s one thing when his magic only makes itself known to save someone or to some sudden movement to stop something and another when it’s bubbling up and aching to be released just to the thought of that posh prat.

Why is this happening to me? Why now? Merlin is not going to lie and say that he has complete control over his magic, but he’s better than when he was three, happy, coincidentally objects were floating by his head or when he was five and angry, accidentally breaking a nearby vase. But it’s still dangerous. The one he can’t stop thinking about is the son of a man that would love to have Merlin’s head and if not for his magic, it would be because of his desires for another male.

Merlin stayed in the same position for hours, unable to tell the time of day, as he self-loathed. Barely moving even when a serving girl accompanied by a guard dropped by with a stale bread and cheese. Eventually, he started to nod off and allowed himself to drift off into a dreamless sleep, finally freeing himself from Arthur Pendragon.

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Merlin!

The familiar voice echoed in Merlin’s ears, startling him awake. He didn’t have enough time to process his surroundings when his name was called out again. His hands immediately went up to cover his ears. 

The voice was so much louder that it hurt as his eardrums rang. He questioned how his ears weren’t bleeding or the floors weren’t shaking just like the core of his body. Stop! What do you want?! Merlin screamed in his head, hoping to respond to whatever or whoever is causing this. 

All he got was another shout of his name. Stop! Stop! Please, tell me what you want from me!

“Merlin!”

“I said stop!” Merlin yelled out loud now. A gust of wind suddenly appeared and a new sound of something creaking was heard.

“Are you out of your mind?!” Merlin looked up. Gaius stood in front of him. He shifted a bit to block all view of the erratic sorcerer. “Your eyes.” He whispered in alarm.