But Merlin can count his blessings, really he can. Arthur knowing his secret, for one. For months he'd worried, he'd dissembled, he'd had Gaius lie for him, all to prevent his magic becoming the final sin that kills him. For months Merlin had shivered every single time Uther walked past him, a delicious shiver, half fear, half daring, and Arthur had begun to look at him askance, had even pretended to misunderstand the reason, just to get Merlin's outraged denials. Merlin doesn't think he was serious. He hopes he wasn't. And then one day, one ordinary day, they had been hunting, and they were attacked – and how safe can Uther call his kingdom when that's a normal ordinary day? Of course, the beast had been magical, and after the gryphon, Merlin has a feeling for those creatures now, a certain taste in the air, a certain tingle at the back of his throat. It's as though Merlin wants to talk to them, somehow, in a language he only half remembers. It didn't stop the beast though, as Merlin recalls – a salamander, that spat fire from its eyes – Merlin looked it up afterwards, the smell of Gaius' potions and pills astringent in his nostrils, dust lit up in the sunlight, and it's a wonder that he doesn't associate hunting trips with medicines, not counting the herbs he brings back on occasion, and Gaius isn't grateful enough. …show more content…
The beast had spat, and Merlin had protected. The glowing golden dome that he'd conjured might have been a bit flashy, he'll concede, but Arthur was busy throwing up his own shield to protect his eyes at the time, so Merlin had thought he hadn't spotted it. Merlin loves Arthur, but it's not as if he's the most observant man in the world. Comes of sticking his nose up in the air all the time, Merlin has been known to remark. Arthur has also been known to cuff the back of his head. But this time, the magic really had been too blatant, and even Arthur had