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Dec. 20th, 2011 05:05 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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merlin_holidaysTitle: Protective Instincts
Recipient:novemberlite
Author:heeroluva
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Arthur/Merlin
Word Count: 1507
Contains: violence, ambiguous age (Merlin’s a teen), werewolf!Merlin, AUish
Summary: Following his instincts, Merlin rescues a man, not knowing that he’s the King and so very much more.
Author's Notes: Sorry that the sex didn’t happen. I hope you enjoy this!
Disclaimer: The characters depicted herein belong to Shine and BBC. I make no profit from this endeavor.
The baying of hounds woke Merlin. They were close, too close. The men on horses weren’t much farther behind. He didn’t even bother to gather his meager belongings. There was no time. With nary a thought, Merlin let the change slip over him as fluid as water. It barely took a moment. One instant he was a gangly teenager standing on two feet, the next he was a wiry black and tan wolf standing on four feet.
Merlin ran as best as his injured leg allowed. As a wolf, he healed fast, but having a large chunk of his thigh muscle ripped out tested his abilities. The other wolf was a black monster that took great pleasure in killing, and despite Merlin’s attempts he just wasn’t strong enough. The worst part was that whenever Merlin got near him, he couldn’t reach his magic. It was there, he could feel it, but it would not obey him, and for that reason more than any, he stayed away from the other.
However, last night had been different. Something had been pulling him, some instinct had demanded that he move, that he was needed, and Merlin didn’t have time to think about it before he just acted as he was overcome by his wolf like he hadn’t been since the first change.
Bursting into a clearing, Merlin had found the other dragging a body. The scent of blood had enraged him, and he had just acted, barreling into the other, jaws snapping against air as the other twisted out of harm’s way. The fight had been long and brutal, thick fur coats matted red with blood, but Merlin knew that he could not back down, that he couldn’t run. He knew undoubtedly that the man was important. Another part claimed the man was his.
The other seemed to realize the importance too and moved to go after him, but while the other was stronger, Merlin was faster and he got to the man first. Placing himself protectively between them, he snarled, his lips pulled back exposing his teeth, his ears erect and forward, and his tail raised high.
A sudden movement from the man and a startled oath drew Merlin’s attention, and it was the kind of opening that the other was looking for. His teeth sank deep into Merlin’s thigh, shearing through muscle and flesh, severing tendons. With a high pitched yelp of pain, Merlin twisted and bit, but the other pulled back, lost his footing, and went sprawling. Seeing his exposed belly, Merlin took his chance.
His teeth raked against the soft skin there, leaving bloody trails in their wake, and for the first time the other let out a sound of pain. Finding his feet, the other tucked tail and ran. A part of Merlin wanted to give chase, but he knew his leg was useless right now.
The movement of metal against metal drew his attention back to the man as he shifted. Blue eyes locked with gold, and for the first time Merlin took note of the Pendragon coat of arms on the man’s chest. A knight from Camelot! He was a long way from home then.
Hesitantly, Merlin took a small step forward, his back end hopping to accommodate his injured leg. The expected fear wasn’t there, just an odd curiosity. There was a certain look to him, an odd glaze to his eyes that suggested to Merlin that the man was drugged.
Dropping his head, he tugged at the bindinga holding the man, and when they did not budge, he used a bit of magic to make them comply. Free of them, the man slowly sat up, and a hesitant hand rose to Merlin’s head. His eyes closed as his ears were scratched, the tip of his tail twitching in pleasure. But Merlin had shown too much already he knew, and with a bit of magic pushed the man into sleep. There was a town not too far from there and with a bit of effort Merlin had taken the man close enough to where he’d be found.
He’d waited. It hadn’t taken long truly, and when the man was safe inside, Merlin had slowly made his way back to his camp, pleased to note that the other wolf seemed to be long gone. At least for now.
Merlin was pulled from his memories and twisted away just in time as a horse suddenly appeared before him, rearing in just as much shock as Merlin felt. Trying to avoid the flailing hooves, Merlin lost his footing and collapsed on his injured leg with a whimper.
“Change,” the horse’s rider suddenly ordered.
Merlin was shocked to note that it was the man from last night, but even more so by the order.
“Change now before they are upon us,” the man ordered again.
The sound of dogs and horses even closer made up his mind, and standing, Merlin shifted. He didn’t expect to suddenly be hefted up onto the horse’s back, hissing as his leg was rearranged so that he was straddling the horse, his back pressed up against the metal of the man’s armor. A sudden flick of the man’s wrists and they were off, the horse’s long strides covering ground much faster than Merlin’s own limping gait had, and it was not long before the sounds of the others faded into the distance.
Finally, some undetermined time later, they stopped by a trickling creek. The man slid off behind him, and Merlin was left gauging the distance between him and the ground and whether he could make it on his own. The choice was taken from him as the man pulled him off, and set him on the ground. Merlin swayed on unsteady legs, his thigh burning from injury and overuse.
For long moments the man stared down at him, and Merlin wondered what now. It wasn’t every day that he got rescued by knights on horseback, or that he exposed himself and didn’t expect instant death. Finally the man broke the silence. “You saved me,” he said, sounding puzzled. “Why?”
Merlin gulped. That was a question that he hadn’t expected, that he wasn’t prepared for because he didn’t have the answers himself. He just knew he had to. “Would you believe me if I said it was instinct? I was miles away, and I felt you. I couldn’t not come.”
A frown darkened the man’s face. “So it’s a spell.”
“No!” Merlin yelped. “Definitely not. I would know if someone put a spell on me.”
The man’s eyes sharpened and Merlin realized what he’d said. It wasn’t so long ago that magic was punishable by death, no questions asked, in Camelot. While that rule had been abolished when Arthur had become King upon his father’s death, many were still not trusting of magic.
“You’re a wizard and a wolf,” the man said in awe. “Emrys,” he breathed.
Wide-eyed, Merlin jerked back with shock, colliding with the side of the horse. That was what the druids called him, a name that he never knew the meaning of, and that they never explained.
Suddenly pulling off a glove, the man’s hand rose and Merlin held his breath as it approached his face. When the calloused hand cupped his cheek, Merlin couldn’t help but nuzzle into it.
Lifting his eyes, Merlin met the man’s, puzzled by their wetness. Was he crying?
“I’ve been searching for you for over a decade. The dragon said you were supposed to come to Camelot years ago, but evil forces conspired against destiny. Despite their attempts, you persevered. “
Merlin’s mind was whirling. Dragon? Camelot had a dragon? And then Merlin remembered his dream. The dreams he’d ignored. The dreams that had urged him to Camelot. The dragon was real then. And then it suddenly clicked into place. “Arthur,” he whispered, dazed. “You’re King Arthur.”
“Yes,” Arthur replied simply. “What is your given name?”
Merlin might have answered, he wasn’t sure. Everything was so overwhelming. This was too easy. After all the years of running. It was all for not. He could have had this.
“Say yes, Merlin.” Arthur murmured in his ear.
Merlin didn’t know what he was saying yes to, but in this instance he would have agreed to anything. Nodding, he froze for a moment as lips brushed over his own. A sudden heat overcame him, and Merlin reacted without thinking, trying to press closer, opening his mouth for more, whimpering as his hands slid over heavy armor wanting, no, needing to touch flesh.
Sometime later they were both sprawled on the the blanket that Arthur had had enough sense of mind to tug from his saddle. Naked and panting, the slickness of sweat cooling along their skin, Merlin should have been embarrassed or shocked by his actions. He didn’t know this man, not really, but somehow Merlin was as content as he’d ever been. And when Arthur lazily smiled up at him, Merlin knew that this was where he was supposed to be.
Recipient:
novemberliteAuthor:
heeroluvaRating: PG-13
Pairings: Arthur/Merlin
Word Count: 1507
Contains: violence, ambiguous age (Merlin’s a teen), werewolf!Merlin, AUish
Summary: Following his instincts, Merlin rescues a man, not knowing that he’s the King and so very much more.
Author's Notes: Sorry that the sex didn’t happen. I hope you enjoy this!
Disclaimer: The characters depicted herein belong to Shine and BBC. I make no profit from this endeavor.
The baying of hounds woke Merlin. They were close, too close. The men on horses weren’t much farther behind. He didn’t even bother to gather his meager belongings. There was no time. With nary a thought, Merlin let the change slip over him as fluid as water. It barely took a moment. One instant he was a gangly teenager standing on two feet, the next he was a wiry black and tan wolf standing on four feet.
Merlin ran as best as his injured leg allowed. As a wolf, he healed fast, but having a large chunk of his thigh muscle ripped out tested his abilities. The other wolf was a black monster that took great pleasure in killing, and despite Merlin’s attempts he just wasn’t strong enough. The worst part was that whenever Merlin got near him, he couldn’t reach his magic. It was there, he could feel it, but it would not obey him, and for that reason more than any, he stayed away from the other.
However, last night had been different. Something had been pulling him, some instinct had demanded that he move, that he was needed, and Merlin didn’t have time to think about it before he just acted as he was overcome by his wolf like he hadn’t been since the first change.
Bursting into a clearing, Merlin had found the other dragging a body. The scent of blood had enraged him, and he had just acted, barreling into the other, jaws snapping against air as the other twisted out of harm’s way. The fight had been long and brutal, thick fur coats matted red with blood, but Merlin knew that he could not back down, that he couldn’t run. He knew undoubtedly that the man was important. Another part claimed the man was his.
The other seemed to realize the importance too and moved to go after him, but while the other was stronger, Merlin was faster and he got to the man first. Placing himself protectively between them, he snarled, his lips pulled back exposing his teeth, his ears erect and forward, and his tail raised high.
A sudden movement from the man and a startled oath drew Merlin’s attention, and it was the kind of opening that the other was looking for. His teeth sank deep into Merlin’s thigh, shearing through muscle and flesh, severing tendons. With a high pitched yelp of pain, Merlin twisted and bit, but the other pulled back, lost his footing, and went sprawling. Seeing his exposed belly, Merlin took his chance.
His teeth raked against the soft skin there, leaving bloody trails in their wake, and for the first time the other let out a sound of pain. Finding his feet, the other tucked tail and ran. A part of Merlin wanted to give chase, but he knew his leg was useless right now.
The movement of metal against metal drew his attention back to the man as he shifted. Blue eyes locked with gold, and for the first time Merlin took note of the Pendragon coat of arms on the man’s chest. A knight from Camelot! He was a long way from home then.
Hesitantly, Merlin took a small step forward, his back end hopping to accommodate his injured leg. The expected fear wasn’t there, just an odd curiosity. There was a certain look to him, an odd glaze to his eyes that suggested to Merlin that the man was drugged.
Dropping his head, he tugged at the bindinga holding the man, and when they did not budge, he used a bit of magic to make them comply. Free of them, the man slowly sat up, and a hesitant hand rose to Merlin’s head. His eyes closed as his ears were scratched, the tip of his tail twitching in pleasure. But Merlin had shown too much already he knew, and with a bit of magic pushed the man into sleep. There was a town not too far from there and with a bit of effort Merlin had taken the man close enough to where he’d be found.
He’d waited. It hadn’t taken long truly, and when the man was safe inside, Merlin had slowly made his way back to his camp, pleased to note that the other wolf seemed to be long gone. At least for now.
Merlin was pulled from his memories and twisted away just in time as a horse suddenly appeared before him, rearing in just as much shock as Merlin felt. Trying to avoid the flailing hooves, Merlin lost his footing and collapsed on his injured leg with a whimper.
“Change,” the horse’s rider suddenly ordered.
Merlin was shocked to note that it was the man from last night, but even more so by the order.
“Change now before they are upon us,” the man ordered again.
The sound of dogs and horses even closer made up his mind, and standing, Merlin shifted. He didn’t expect to suddenly be hefted up onto the horse’s back, hissing as his leg was rearranged so that he was straddling the horse, his back pressed up against the metal of the man’s armor. A sudden flick of the man’s wrists and they were off, the horse’s long strides covering ground much faster than Merlin’s own limping gait had, and it was not long before the sounds of the others faded into the distance.
Finally, some undetermined time later, they stopped by a trickling creek. The man slid off behind him, and Merlin was left gauging the distance between him and the ground and whether he could make it on his own. The choice was taken from him as the man pulled him off, and set him on the ground. Merlin swayed on unsteady legs, his thigh burning from injury and overuse.
For long moments the man stared down at him, and Merlin wondered what now. It wasn’t every day that he got rescued by knights on horseback, or that he exposed himself and didn’t expect instant death. Finally the man broke the silence. “You saved me,” he said, sounding puzzled. “Why?”
Merlin gulped. That was a question that he hadn’t expected, that he wasn’t prepared for because he didn’t have the answers himself. He just knew he had to. “Would you believe me if I said it was instinct? I was miles away, and I felt you. I couldn’t not come.”
A frown darkened the man’s face. “So it’s a spell.”
“No!” Merlin yelped. “Definitely not. I would know if someone put a spell on me.”
The man’s eyes sharpened and Merlin realized what he’d said. It wasn’t so long ago that magic was punishable by death, no questions asked, in Camelot. While that rule had been abolished when Arthur had become King upon his father’s death, many were still not trusting of magic.
“You’re a wizard and a wolf,” the man said in awe. “Emrys,” he breathed.
Wide-eyed, Merlin jerked back with shock, colliding with the side of the horse. That was what the druids called him, a name that he never knew the meaning of, and that they never explained.
Suddenly pulling off a glove, the man’s hand rose and Merlin held his breath as it approached his face. When the calloused hand cupped his cheek, Merlin couldn’t help but nuzzle into it.
Lifting his eyes, Merlin met the man’s, puzzled by their wetness. Was he crying?
“I’ve been searching for you for over a decade. The dragon said you were supposed to come to Camelot years ago, but evil forces conspired against destiny. Despite their attempts, you persevered. “
Merlin’s mind was whirling. Dragon? Camelot had a dragon? And then Merlin remembered his dream. The dreams he’d ignored. The dreams that had urged him to Camelot. The dragon was real then. And then it suddenly clicked into place. “Arthur,” he whispered, dazed. “You’re King Arthur.”
“Yes,” Arthur replied simply. “What is your given name?”
Merlin might have answered, he wasn’t sure. Everything was so overwhelming. This was too easy. After all the years of running. It was all for not. He could have had this.
“Say yes, Merlin.” Arthur murmured in his ear.
Merlin didn’t know what he was saying yes to, but in this instance he would have agreed to anything. Nodding, he froze for a moment as lips brushed over his own. A sudden heat overcame him, and Merlin reacted without thinking, trying to press closer, opening his mouth for more, whimpering as his hands slid over heavy armor wanting, no, needing to touch flesh.
Sometime later they were both sprawled on the the blanket that Arthur had had enough sense of mind to tug from his saddle. Naked and panting, the slickness of sweat cooling along their skin, Merlin should have been embarrassed or shocked by his actions. He didn’t know this man, not really, but somehow Merlin was as content as he’d ever been. And when Arthur lazily smiled up at him, Merlin knew that this was where he was supposed to be.
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Date: 2011-12-21 05:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-02-07 07:52 am (UTC)