Work Text:
Lions!
I'm looking for the thunder,
I'm looking for the blackness.
I'm learning how to get up off my knees,
And all it takes is practice.
Be ready on your feet,
No matter the trouble you meet.
I'm not the hunter, I'm not the marked.
Just looking for wisdom in the dark
Lions make you brave,
Giants give you faith,
Death is a charade.
You don't have to feel safe to feel unafraid.
- Lights, “Lions!”
“What.. the hell is that?”
Lexa’s bright green eyes were twinkling wildly with amusement, and Merlin glanced to the plastic container she was holding up. Her eyebrows were raised expectantly, and Merlin felt the barest amount of nervousness slithering across the back of his throat.
“What d’you mean?” He’d prepared it so carefully, but he’d clearly missed something, based on the way his oldest friend was now staring at him.
“You made Arthur homemade potato salad?”
Merlin scoffed far too loudly, his cheeks turning a deep red as he avoided Lexa’s gaze.
“Of course I didn’t,” he replied, as though he couldn’t believe she would accuse him of such a thing. Lexa lifted a brow, continuing to stare him down. After a moment, Merlin finally added in the same haughty tone, “It’s pasta salad, thank you very much.”
Lexa was too busy snickering to notice Clarke sneaking up behind her until it was too late. Clarke planted a surprise kiss on Lexa’s shoulder from behind her, drawing a playful squeal from her girlfriend.
“Did I hear pasta salad?” Arthur’s voice boomed across the park, even drawing the brief attention of several parents milling about the nearby playground.
“Yes, my lord,” Merlin’s voice faltered slightly, and the tips of his ears turned quickly red. “Uh—I mean, Arthur.”
Arthur merely smirked, crossing his arms as he nodded to himself a bit. “Your lord, is it now? I think I like that, actually, mate. Lord Arthur of Camelot. Sounds even better than King.”
Clarke rolled her eyes as she flopped to the ground, laying her head on Lexa’s thigh. “More like Lord of the really-super-annoying people. I swear to god, he finds out he’s like, 15th in line for the throne of a country he’s never even heard of and probably can’t even find on a map, and suddenly he’s spending two hours on his hair and can’t be fucked to do his own laundry now.”
“Morgana offered to do it, I didn’t ask her to,” Arthur lowered himself onto the blanket as well, fixing Clarke with a dour look. “You’re just jealous I’m in line ahead of you, dear sister.”
Lexa gently stroked Clarke’s hair in the unlikely case the accusation was true, but Clarke just laughed. “You do realize to take the throne, you’d have to marry, right?”
“So?” Arthur shrugged, taking a massive forkful of the pasta salad, much to Merlin’s delight. “So we’ll marry then, and the whole ‘Lord’ thing will be all official, because I’ll order it so.”
Clarke just let the moment hang between them, enjoying herself just a little too much as her half brother continued to miss the obvious, as he so often seemed to.
“A girl, Arthur. You have to marry a girl if you want to be king,” Lexa informed him gently, unable to withstand Clarke’s torture of him any longer.
“Yeah, Merlin can’t be your Queen in Camelot,” Clarke added, teasing him as she drew an invisible tear track on her cheek. “Only here in Polis.”
Arthur choked on the large mouthful of pasta he’d taken, and Merlin gave him a heavy thump on the back. The projectile pasta was coughed from Arthur’s lips and pinged gently off the tree they’d set up beneath before falling unceremoniously to the ground.
Arthur coughed a few more times and gave his chest a voracious thump as he shook off the experience. Clarke rolled her eyes at his theatrics, but Merlin’s hand still rested gently at his back, reassuring either Arthur, or maybe just himself, that the danger had passed.
“Thank you, Merlin.” Merlin felt the soaring sensation of pride in his chest that always accompanied the slightest hint of validation from Arthur. From anyone, really, but especially from Arthur.
“You’re welcome,” Merlin replied with a slightly lopsided smile.
“Don’t you mean, you’re welcome, my Lord?” Arthur gave him a mischievous grin, and this time, Lexa rolled her eyes as well.
“I’m never gonna live that one down, am I?” They all shook their heads in response to Merlin’s obviously unnecessary question.
“Not bloody likely,” Arthur teased him; but it was okay, because he’d said it while lightly tickling his fingertip behind Merlin’s ear. He always did that; he said so Merlin would know he was teasing him and didn’t mean whatever loudmouth, unplanned, stupid thing he’d just said.
“Alright, so what’s the plan for today?” Clarke asked around a mouthful of sandwich, and all eyes landed on Lexa, as expected.
“Okay, so we’re meeting the others there. We’re going to set up on the sidewalk, Mr. Sinclair and Raven already measured it and drew a chalk line,” Lexa started, sitting up and suddenly all business.
“Wait, why do we need a line? We’re drama queers, I know how to hit my mark,” Arthur scoffed.
“Because if we are half an inch over the line onto school property, we’re going to have a very difficult time graduating once we’ve all been expelled,” Lexa explained patiently.
“That’s still the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” Merlin volunteered. “They can’t kick us out for protesting.”
“They can if we’re doing it on school property, so we’re all going to stay behind the Raven Reyes Holy Line of Demarcation,” Lexa continued. “We have to be smart about this.”
“Why?” Arthur scoffed. “The headmaster isn’t being smart. Gay marriage is legal now, so technically it’s Headmaster Uther that’s breaking a law, you know..”
“And if that’s how laws worked, that’d be a valid argument. But it’s not, so we’re doing this,” Lexa brought everyone back around to the task at hand. “So first we’ll meet up with Morgana, grab the signs from her car and Mr. Sinclair’s van and bring those over.”
Merlin watched with a little smile as Arthur polished off the last of the pasta salad—and without choking on it further, to boot. He handed Arthur a napkin, but turned back towards Lexa and Clarke with a look of concern on his face.
“Mr. Sinclair isn’t coming to the protest, is he? Uther will sack him for sure,” he pointed out, and Arthur and Clarke both suddenly shared his look of concern.
Lexa, however, just shook her head a bit. “No. We’re the only ones that know he’s helping us. I mean.. he’s helping us as our friend Raven’s dad, not a teacher from our school, but..”
“Right then, we don’t know him, he doesn’t know us. So we get the signs, by some magical way that has nothing to do with him,” Arthur nodded dismissively. “Moving right along, are we really meant to just stand on the roadside with a bunch of marker-and-board posters, and hope someone gives a damn about our high school problems?”
“No,” Clarke replied, before Merlin or Lexa could. “We stand on the roadside with our anti-hate posters, and we make a lot of noise.”
Arthur got a slick smile on his face. “A lot of noise, you say? How much is a lot of noise?”
♾
“What’s all this about?”
A young mother had stopped at their table, glancing over the colorful posters—in particular one that Murphy had made and was waving in the air. It proclaimed in fat, black marker outlined in rainbow colors:
Supreme Court Said
MorGwen Rights
June 26, 2015
GET OVER IT!
Lexa smiled pleasantly, wiggling her fingers at the drooling infant hanging from the woman’s shoulders.
“Our friends Morgana and Gwen were voted cutest couple for our senior yearbook. Rather than let a same-sex couple be in the yearbook, our Headmaster removed the category and banned same-sex couples from our upcoming prom. Our senior class has already done a walk-out, during the assembly where the announcement was made. We’re asking for the community’s support on this issue, and we have a petition here, if you’d like to help us out,” Lexa gestured, trying to keep her sales pitch as short and sweet as possible. Particularly because her mouth was getting dry from repeating all of that over and over again since noon.
The woman looked vaguely unsure, particularly as she glanced towards the end of the table, where Gwen was laughing lightly as she tried to help Morgana escape the clutches of a spiral notebook that had become somehow tangled in her hair. To Lexa’s surprise, however, she merely nodded and picked up one of the pens.
“I don’t really think schools should even have these sort of things at all, honestly. I think it just distracts from the true purpose of learning,” she made conversation as she signed the petition. “But if they’re going to do it, they shouldn’t be telling students who they have to take to prom.” She set the pen down in front of a grateful Lexa. “Rules and laws should be for everyone, right? No special treatment.”
“Right,” Lexa replied, though admittedly she wasn’t even entirely sure what she was agreeing to. It had been three hours already, and she was just happy to have a signature. “Thank you so much for your support, we really appreciate it.”
“Sure thing,” the woman nodded before walking away. Lexa put the pen and clipboard back in place and began rummaging in her messenger bag for the bottle of aspirin she just knew was in there.
Unfortunately, she still hadn’t found it when she heard a commotion from the far side of the protest area, where Merlin seemed to be engaged in a heated debate with some douchebag in a MAGA hat, and he appeared to be dangerously close to losing his cool.
“Listen, dude. I just don’t think schools should be encouraging these deviant behaviors. They’re trying to keep you all safe, dude,” the guy was saying, and suddenly Lexa’s headache had grown three times larger. “You should appreciate it, and stop hanging out with these—“ he finished with a word that made Lexa’s stomach turn with nausea.
Merlin was shaking, his face red even as Gwen, Morgana, and Clarke tried to soothe him unsuccessfully, despite all looking about as sick as Lexa herself felt. Clarke finally shot a desperate look to Lexa, and she stood up and reluctantly joined what was sure to be a lovely and educational social interaction, she was sure.
“Listen, dude. Why don’t you back up just a little bit from my friend here,” Gwaine was telling the man, and Lexa moved more quickly towards the little cluster, getting annoyed as she glanced around to see where Arthur had gotten to in all of this. He was nowhere to be found, though, which was just fitting for the shitshow of a day they were having.
Gwaine was a good friend, especially to Merlin. He had been since long before Gaius had adopted Merlin and Indra had adopted Lexa. There’d been more than a few times since Merlin and Lexa had been fostered together initially, where Gwaine had been there to rescue them—whether it was from a bully on the street, or one of the several abusive foster homes they’d been in over the years, or even just pure, dumb, stupid, gnawing hunger. No matter what, Gwaine was there, and had his friends’ backs—not to mention he usually had snacks on hand, too, just in case he ran into someone who was hungry.
But therein lay the problem: Gwaine was a good friend, but he was most likely to solve a problem with his fists if he deemed it to be an option. Considering he was roughly the size of a brick wall, it was always an option as far as he was concerned. But if he put his hands on the man, there was going to be a lot of really bad domino effect-style fallout from it.
“Are you.. threatening me?” The man asked, pushing two fingers into Gwaine’s chest. Actually, he’d asked it with a terrible slur at the end, but Lexa’s ears tried not to hear it. It wouldn’t do to get Gwaine out of there just to end up decking the asshole herself; a very real possibility.
“I guess maybe I a—“
Before Gwaine could finish the inevitably fistfight-inducing response he intended, he was interrupted by the opening notes of a song they all immediately recognized. A quick glance revealed Arthur was the source of the music—wherever he had gone, he’d come back wearing a long brown trench coat. He stood just a few yards behind the table and picket line, and was holding a large stereo over his head. His iPod was taped to the side of it—and probably had been since he’d first gotten the thing ten years ago—and he was shouting along with the song that was playing.
It was playing so loud, that it drowned out whatever the MAGA guy was yelling; quite effective, really. Lexa watched with appreciation as Clarke and Morgana were the first to join Arthur’s singing. Merlin was still shaking, but Gwen whispered something to him that, combined with the big, goofy smile Arthur was giving only to him, seemed to calm Merlin down just a bit.
Lexa and Merlin joined in the singing; then Gwen, Raven, Murphy, and Gwaine did. By the first chorus, everyone who had showed up for the protest, and more than a few of the people who had stopped by the table to sign were also singing along.
And each and every one of them was looking directly at the MAGA guy while they did.
“You're the voice, try and understand it! Make a noise and make it clear, oh, whoa!” Arthur shook his head vigorously from side to side as he wailed along before shifting the speaker to one hand and cupping his other around his ear, as though he couldn’t hear anyone else singing.
They chorused together even louder, “We're not gonna sit in silence! We're not gonna live with fear!”
Arthur moved closer with the stereo and a wicked grin on his face, unceremoniously handing it off to Murphy and continuing his path to Merlin. Lexa felt Clarke slide her hand into hers, and they watched Merlin and Arthur share a chaste, but lingering kiss before sharing one of their own.
That did it; the MAGA guy threw his hands up and stormed off before Morgana and Gwen could offend him with their own kiss. They all began clapping and cheering, and a few of the cars in the road began leaning on their horns and shooting thumbs ups out their windows. From the parking lot behind them came the unmistakable sound of Mr. Sinclair, too, leaning on the horn of his van.
Lexa rested her head on Clarke’s shoulder, watching the others as they continued to dance, sing, laugh, and let out empowered whoops while high-fiving one another.
“Oy, Merlin, who sings this?” Arthur teased Merlin, but they were laughing together.
“Just think, this is what our prom could look like,” Clarke whispered, nuzzling her head lightly. “Everyone having fun, laughing..”
“Mm. Telling the Headmaster to take a hike by aggressively singing at him?” Lexa pointed out, reasonably enough.
Clarke just shrugged. “Maybe.”
“I don’t think that’s going to work,” Gwen volunteered, though hesitantly; she was never one to break up a good time with logic, even if it was the truth.
Arthur shrugged, unperturbed as his arm wrapped loosely around Merlin’s narrow shoulders. “Worked just now, didn’t it? That prat fucked well off.”
“That prat’s not the Headmaster, though,” Merlin replied, but Arthur just made a face.
“Okay, then we’ll play something else for Headmaster Prat, then,” Arthur dismissed the problem, poking at a few buttons on the now blessedly-lowered stereo. The first notes of “P.Y.T.” came out, and Clarke gave him a dubious look, even as Lexa found herself compelled to start singing along immediately.
“What does this song have to do with standing up for equality?” Clarke addressed Arthur, who simply looked at her as though she’d gone insane.
“Nothing?” Arthur replied with a look of mild confusion. “Why, what did the other one have to do with it, either? You just said we needed to make a lot of noise. I was noisy. With John Farnham,” he added, pointedly glancing at Merlin, who just shrugged.
“Besides,” Arthur continued, beginning to dance and trying to entice Merlin to join in the merriment. “Headmaster’s just jealous that he’s a pratty old thing, and no one wants to love him.”
Morgana, Gwen, and Gwaine seemed compelled by the Michael Jackson bug to also begin singing along, even as they fumbled in the sudden flurry of clipboards and pencils. Dozens of people had been drawn in by the musical performance, it seemed, and Raven was already running as quickly as she could with her leg brace to Mr. Sinclair’s van with one of the last blank petition forms; ostensibly to make more copies of it.
If the last few minutes had been any indicator, they’d have enough names down by sunset to make the Headmaster think very seriously about how many enemies he really wanted in the community over a stupid dance. It was a good day, and as Clarke playfully punched her brother before whispering something sweet in Lexa’s ear, they watched their friends fighting for a better world. A kinder world. A more tolerant world. A world without the hatred that had thus far plagued their current one.
Maybe, just maybe, Clarke couldn’t help but think, watching as her brother quietly hugged and comforted an emotionally exhausted Merlin. She finished the thought out loud, but softly; where only Lexa could hear it.
“Maybe Arthur wouldn’t make such a bad king, after all,” Clarke admitted very, very quietly. She bit her lip briefly, then added, “You know, if the other 14 people die, I mean.”
Lexa just smiled.
Colin Morgan (Merlin) & Bradley James (Arthur)
dorking out to John Farnham’s “You’re the Voice”:
Eliza Taylor (Clarke) and Alycia Debnam-Carey (Lexa)
dorking out to Michael Jackson’s “P.Y.T. (Pretty Young Thing)”: