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The Horror and the Wild

Summary:

Arthur dreams of a man with magic,but the magic does not scare him. He is enamoured with it. The whispers he's had since he was small, suddenly stopped. Who is his manservant?

Notes:

The title of the fic comes from the song 'The Horror and the Wild' by The Amazing Devil
I might make smaller oneshots based off of this if people want cus I do feel like it would be fun to play around with this concept more.

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As most people, Arthur couldn’t really remember anything under the age of four except for one thing. Something that is even still, is so incredibly strong in his mind. Around the age of two, Arthur was sitting on a windowsill in his room watching Camelot when suddenly he felt a pulse go through his whole body. It was weird. So weird and scary for a small child, that Arthur went running to his father in hopes of safety, but all that happened was him being shooed away as he had interrupted some meeting. Ever since then, there have been quiet whispers in his head, not always, just sometimes. Arthur decided that saying anything to his father will just warrant a blame for Arthur’s imagination.

These whispers felt protective in a way. Like they had shielded Arthur from the monster under his bed. The whispers always got more louder when Arthur was with his father, like they really didn’t like him. Though Arthur can’t exactly blame them. There were very little times where the father just had a casual conversation and not about all the duties waiting for young Prince Arthur.

Prince Arthur. Not a name that the whispers or even Arthur himself liked. It felt like too much. He just wished he could be a normal child running through the woods each day so the parent could call him one hell of a wild child. Arthur wished this so much, that at the age of six, he decided to tell his father that he no longer wanted to be a prince.

As Arthur slowly walked to his father’s chambers, he wondered about what would happen. Arthur knew what would probably happen, but he just hoped that his father would accept that and just choose another suitable heir to the throne from their Kingdom.

Arthur took a deep breath before he knocked on the looming dark wooden doors.

“Come in” said in that stern gruff voice.

Arthur peeked his head into the room just enough for his father to see him.

“Arthur Pendragon, you should be in bed. I’ll get someone to escort you back to your chambers”

“Wait father, I wa-... need to talk to you” Arthur spoke in small voice as his shoulders rose to his ears.

“Is it really that important that it cannot wait until tomorrow morning?”

A small nod was all that was needed for the King to sigh and sit at the edge of the bed with the young prince.

“So?” Uther asked, already impatient.

“I uh-” Arthur couldn’t even get through the sentence without his father scolding him.

“Stop your stuttering and think of what you want to say”

The prince had to think for a few seconds more before speaking again.

“I do not want to be a prince or ruler of Camelot anymore”

Arthur squeezed his eyes shut as that sentence left his mouth and waited in the silence that came after. He was expecting anything and everything but what he definitely wasn’t expecting was for rough fingers to pass through his hair in what was supposed to be a comforting motion.

“Child, I know that the duties of a prince will seem like too much of a bother, but you must know what is best for the people of Camelot. I was in your situation once, and all I had to do was get out and do something”

Unnoticeably, Arthur’s eyes lit up as he gained hope for the permission to at least explore the woods. It would’ve been better if he hadn’t because all that hope came crashing down at Uther’s next words.

“You want to be a knight, do you not? I will see to it that you start training as soon as possible.”

“Thank you, father. Good night." He managed a small smile as he spoke before standing and heading to his room, not even bothering with an escort. Arthur’s vision got blurry as he scurried to his room as quickly and silently as possible. He flopped onto his bed and cried, until the whispers reassured him everything would be alright. That as a knight, he could go on missions in the woods. That gave Arthur back some of that hope.

 

At the age of twenty-one, Arthur was a fully-fledged out knight and loved making up excuses to go to the woods. The voices were also still there and reminded him not to go too often or else the guards will start suspecting something. Though there were two issues still.

Uther was still being an ass.

These strange dreams he started having.

Arthur couldn’t remember when they had begun but they were sometimes the greatest parts of his days. The dream always went like this: Arthur would ride out into the woods with a crown on his head to meet with someone. He can never recall the other man’s face or name. But they would ride through the woods together, always down a new path, to a cool area where they would make a fire and the black-haired man would show all the cool spell he knows to Arthur. Whenever these dreams first began, he didn’t know how to feel about his dreams showing him a warlock. He never exactly disliked it but it’s weird when you grow up around one negative stigma about something and then seeing it. The longer Arthur had these dreams, the more enamoured he became with magic. It was such a useful and wonderful thing. If only it hadn’t been outlawed in Camelot, then maybe Arthur would see these displays in the city every day. Maybe he’d want to be prince.

There was one thing that really confused Arthur in these dreams. In each and every dream, at some point, the man would call them the Horror and Wild (Arthur being the Wild). It never made any sense to him as to why that was such as significant thing in the dreams. More so why the other man was horror, that man could not hurt a fly if he tried.

 

It was an average day in Camelot with Arthur and his mates walking around the city centre. Arthur did know that they weren’t his actual friends but it just felt better to pretend and have friends than have none.

They were doing some ‘moving target practice’, and as fun as the name sounds, Arthur didn’t love the execution, but he played along. Throwing darts at some poor citizen holding a wooden shield in front of their face. They might be a worker at the castle, they might not. Arthur genuinely can’t name any of the castle servants apart from Guinnevere and Arthur only knows her because she is Morgana’s personal maid.

Then some scrawny guy comes up to them. Probably new to Camelot because Arthur would’ve at least seen that bold red scarf.

“Come on that’s enough” The stranger says weirdly calmly.

“What” Arthur realised this newcomer most likely does not know he is prince. Maybe he could introduce himself and apologise or something? No, his friends are here. He must keep up the act.

“You’ve had your fun my friend. I’m Merlin” He spoke with an outstretched hand, awaiting a handshake of sorts.

“Do I know you?” Arthur didn’t just ask this because of the phrasing ‘my friend’ but also because something about this... Merlin guy felt familiar.

They exchange a few more words in which Merling has to apologise for his phrasing whilst Arthur has to be an absolute jerk about it, Gods Arthur hates this. Even with his goal of wandering the woods came true, he still had no one to call true. Arthur was however wondering why the voices have gone completely silent. Yes, they go silent sometimes, but this feels different.

The conversation unfortunately ended with Merlin swinging for Arthur’s head, but years of knight training gave Arthur quite the upper hand. He guessed he could at least introduce himself now.

“Arthur” He waited for some sort of apology or excuse but all that he saw, was a glimmer in Merlin’s eyes and small smirk appear on Merlin’s face.

However, Arthur did still have to throw him in the dungeon because he threatened the prince with multiple witnesses so if he didn’t do something, Uther would be waiting at the doors.

 

The last thing that Arthur expected to see the very next day was Merlin. An argument of sorts ensued. And once again, the voices were silent but something about them felt both happy and sad. They’re giving Arthur a headache without even speaking.

 

Which is one of things that fuelled his decision to swing a mace a poor Merlin. That and his jabs at Arthur being a royal prat. Funny? Yes. Annoying? Absolutely.

 

“He is to be your personal manservant” Uther spoke almost begrudgingly.

“What?” Arthur understood why and was quite excited too because Merlin wasn’t afraid to talk to Arthur like a normal human being. Arthur was weirdly happier chasing Merlin through the bazar than he was with his friends, moments prior. But it did start to creep him out that the whispers hadn’t spoken once that entire day.

This should be interesting.

 

After one full year of Merlin being Arthur’s manservant, they had become comfortable with one another. Arthur had dropped the fake friendships he had to focus on the real one he got. Merlin, visually, knew every aspect of Arthur’s room and where everything is placed. It is incredibly rare for Merlin to have any need to go into one of the drawers or chests in Arthur’s room, which he hoped would stay that way. As much as Arthur wasn’t a particularly secretive person, he did have books on sorcery in one of his chests hidden by useless junk. These weren’t the books that Uther would have on ‘How to Recognise and Eliminate Sorcery’ or ‘Kingship in 1000 Words’, no. Arthur kept a neat collection of books like ‘Ancient Fire: Druidism' and ’The 21 Lessons in Magick’. Essentially the books that would ruin his whole reputation as the prince of hating magic.

As much as he l-LIKED Merlin and trusted him, he felt as though something would happen if Merlin found them. Arthur would ask the voices for advice, but each time gets reminded that they are no longer there. At least that’s Arthur’s theory for the moment.

But of course, things rarely go right for Arthur.

 

“Arthur?” Merlin spoke as he wiped down the surfaces of some dressers.

“Yeah?” Arthur replied tiredly as he sat at his desk. It was evening and Arthur had just finished the most boring meeting about trade that he’s never been in.

“What do actually you keep in your drawers and chests? You don’t seem like someone who would have many things.”

Arthur’s eyes widened slightly, and he hoped that Merlin kept to being oblivious and did not notice. He had to pull himself together before speaking again.

“Rude, I have many things. But I don’t really know, some junk I just threw in there and forgot about.” Arthur thought that that was enough of the truth.

Without any word, Merlin threw the rag lightly into a tub and went towards one of the chests. Arthur wasn’t fully paying attention, trying not to fall asleep.

“What are you doing, Merlin?”

“Looking at what you consider ‘junk’, your royal pratness” Merlin spoke with a smirk.

Arthur chuckled lightly as he rested his head on his arms, closing his eyes for a bit. In that small moment, he saw the man again, but due to being only half asleep he heard that familiar voice laugh. ‘The Horror and Wild me and you are, sire’.

Arthur shot up right as Merlin spoke. The man had said sire.

“Arthur, what is this?” He questioned, confused, holding up a few books.

The books. Arthur’s ears were ringing as realisation hit him. Merlin is the man. Merlin is the last dragon lord. Merlin is a sorcerer.

So many things suddenly made sense; the oddly lucky fallen branches landing on their enemies, how Arthur always seemed to miraculously survive the most fatal injuries-

“Arthur? Are you alright?” Merlin stood up worried, books still in hands.

“Y-yeah, what is it you asked?” Not the fucking stuttering again

Merlin didn’t look convinced in the slightest but repeated his first question.

“I asked what these books are, sire. These books are... interesting for you to have.

“Let’s just say I’m not like my father” Arthur couldn’t bare lying to his best friend. Even though Merlin has technically lied for an entire year. It could be considered betrayal or even treason. Arthur was angry but understood exactly why Merlin did so.

Merlin’s eyes widened. But, less so in shock than in realisation. Merlin looked at Arthur and Arthur looked at Merlin. They stared, both waiting for the other to say something. Merlin thought it’d be smart to first prove his theory before anything else.

Athur was not expecting Merlin to chuckle. That warm, chuckle that always makes Arthur smile.

“Boy are you a wild one, sire” Low and behold, Merlin’s theory proves correct at Arthur’s next words.

“Is that an insult, you absolute horror?” Arthur gave a light-hearted laugh as he stood and walked towards Merlin until he was right in front of him. He now understood how Merlin was a horror. He’s probably killed hundreds, if not, thousands for Arthur’s protection but for some reason, that did not scare him.

“Do you take it as an insult, prince?” Merlin leant forward, knowing full well that Arthur despises the title from all the dream conversations.

“But that, I do find insulting, sorcerer.” Arthur also leant forward, knowing that Merlin would hate Arthur for saying that in a castle full of guards and Uther.

“Am we interrupting something Arthur?”

The two spun around towards the door to see two giggling people. Morgana and Guinnevere. Arthur’s face reddened slightly at the realising what Morgana was thinking whilst Merlin just rolled his eyes.

“Before you say anything, we heard you and it’s fine” Morgana and Guinnevere waltzed into Arthur’s chambers fully, Morgana closing and locking the door.

“I have magic as well”

Arthur’s eyes widened. For how long? Since birth like Merlin? Or a later development? Merlin was simply confused, how had he not sensed Morgana’s magic sooner?

“Me and Gwen were thinking of running somewhere where magic wasn’t necessarily outlawed” Morgana knew that meant making up a reason to leave for Uther. Or maybe she should just go missing?

Finally, one of the boys spoke up.

“You could go to Ealdor, it’s where I’m from. I’m sure you could stay with my mum for a bit while you look for a house” Merlin knew his mum wouldn’t mind. And now for Uther.

“If you just go missing, Uther will send search parties everywhere. Maybe either of you can wipe his memory of Morgana? And then Guinnevere could pretend she quit?” Arther suggested, after all, he was basically trained on how to make a plan. Merlin raised a brow at him with a sly smirk. Wordlessly commenting on Arthur's immediate want for them to use magic.

They all agreed on that plan and knew that no one would dare question the King if he claimed that there was never a Morgana staying at the castle.

 

Another year went past, and Uther passed away. What no one at the castle knew, is that Uther’s death wasn’t an unfortunate tragedy. It was a rather well-made drink out of foxglove flavoured with wine. And when the current King tends to go missing with his royal sorcerer in the woods for a few days, no one questions it anymore.

As the two men rode in the Moon’s dim light through the Valley of Kings, where Uther was now buried, King Arthur slowly stood atop his speeding horse with miraculous balance and yelled.

“WITNESS ME OLD MAN, I AM THE WILD” As Arthur shouted those words into the night, Merlin made fires dance in the sky and around Arthur, making the crown cast an orange light around them.

Merlin’s eyes shone gold for his King. His one and true love