Chapter Text
Curses weren’t an uncommon thing in Camelot. Usually, they were cast with the intention of slowly killing the unfortunate victim, occasionally used to hurt or cause chaos. Merlin had long since accepted that part of his life would be trying to break curses that other sorcerers had placed, while trying to keep his own Magic a secret. If Arthur found out, it would risk everything he’d worked so hard to build, the friendship and livelihood that he had in Camelot.
This curse was different. From the moment it was cast, by a Sorcerer far too powerful for Merlin not to track down, the long-term plan was vague. Sure, it was a chaotic plan, and Merlin winced as he tried to rise out of the dirt he’d landed in. The Knights were shouting threats, trying to reach for weapons while the pain itched over his body.
He knew people had souls. That was a given, considering he also knew that he was only one half of a coin. But the curse, the exact wording that had been given, it sounded impossible. Certainly nothing he knew how to cast, and as his power grew (mostly with Morgana’s help during their lessons), which meant this Sorcerer was powerful.
‘Onto the skin of all those who call Camelot a home, each human shall have a name inscribed into them, of the person they call their love.’
A name, that was currently being carved into each of them, hence the struggling to get up.
‘But only a human can have one love.’
The second part had been spoken with sadness, the robed-man that had cast the spell briefly looking in Merlin’s direction. The Warlock didn’t have time to think about it, because the burst of light had been enough to almost blind him.
He didn’t need to ask to know where the name was being scratched, he could feel the burning on his chest. But it was followed by a continual pain, across his stomach, which left him unable to do anything but watch as the others recovered from their carvings, chasing after the robed-man who vanished into the trees.
By the time he’d made it to his feet, Elyan and Lancelot had returned, out of breath and both grabbing at different parts of their body. Elyan was grabbing at his arm, and even though he was wearing chainmail, Merlin could see the slick blood seeping out from under. Lancelot was holding his thigh, with much the similar issue, and so Merlin quickly forgot about his own pain to aid them.
‘Let me…’
‘Wait!’ Elyan tried, even if he needed help, and it didn’t take Merlin long to understand his hesitance. Once he had, he frowned.
‘I’m the Physician’s apprentice, I’m not going to tell.’ Elyan glanced to Lancelot, who turned his back to give a sense of privacy. Merlin helped Elyan take off the armour and chainmail, rolling up his sleeve and apologising when the Knight hissed.
His trusty satchel had the needed healing items, cleaning away the blood and studying the letters that lay underneath. Both of them stared at the skin, at the name, but neither were surprised. He continued to clean it, before bandaging the cut after applying a salve to it.
‘There, keep it wrapped until we get back to Camelot and I have more supplies.’ Elyan thanked him quietly, turning away so that Merlin could reach Lancelot.
Lancelot, who pulled back.
‘It’s fine.’
Lancelot was the one he trusted, more than any of the others. The one that had been his friend, who knew his secret, and still thought he was a worthy person. Now, however, the Knight shied away from Merlin’s touch, and the Warlock had to hide his hurt just in time for Arthur and the other Knights to come crashing into the circle.
‘We lost all tracks.’
‘And my damned leg is killing.’
‘My back’s the same.’ Leon muttered, trying to turn to stare at his back, only to spin in a circle briefly. Merlin took a step forward, ready to offer out his assistance, but Arthur brushed past him.
‘We need to get back to Camelot.’
‘Do you need…’
‘No.’ Arthur broke Merlin’s sentence, leaving the Warlock to blink in confusion.
Already, the curse was tearing them apart.
**
Camelot was in chaos. It quickly became apparent that people didn’t have to have each other’s names on their skin, that happily married couples were no longer “true loves”. Gaius dragged Merlin around with him to the town, trying to bandage up cuts and give advice to the families that were struggling to deal with the new change.
Every person over thirteen had a name, just one, regardless of gender. Merlin had to make a lot of promises, to people he’d never even met, assuring them he would not betray the trust he offered out by knowing the names etched into them. Once the streets began to empty, Merlin could make his way back towards the Castle and begin the task of sorting out the Knights and Guards.
It took a long time to work his way through, staring at the many names and trying to piece together why the Sorcerer had done such a thing. Each person stared at the name with a different reaction, some with terror, others with sadness, the occasional few being happy.
When the door opened yet again, Merlin glanced up to see Lady Morgana and Guinevere, both looking less than pleased to be here.
‘Are you busy?’ Lady Morgana asked, looking to the piles of bloody bandages that Merlin had worked through during the day, combined with the bowls of paste that he had been made to try and deal with the injuries.
‘Would you prefer to be seen separately, or together?’ Merlin inquired, keeping up his attitude of professional responsibility. He had quickly learned that people didn’t want the usual chatty Merlin, not when they were being forced to face their own heart. Gwen shot him an apologetic smile, like she’d heard of the abuse Merlin had been getting today, while Morgana remained impassive.
‘Separate. If that’s alright with you, Gwen.’ Morgana’s tone softened when she addressed her friend, Gwen looking surprised at the fact she wanted them apart. Within a moment Morgana was gone, leaving Gwen to come and sit down in front of him.
‘I heard that someone punched you earlier.’ She murmured, reaching for his hands while Merlin shrugged. Guinevere was dressed in a gown of purple, far above the things she used to wear when she was just the maid of Lady Morgana. She was now the sister of one of the King’s Knights, trusted by Arthur himself, and many predicted she would end up as Queen of Camelot.
‘This has been a crazy day.’ Merlin agreed, unbandaging the rough job that she must have done. Underneath, blood had dried over the scratched letters, and he recognised immediately that it was too long to be Arthur’s name.
It was not his place to comment, not even on matters of Arthur’s life. He remained quiet, cleaned the cut and wrapped the name up without a word.
‘You won’t tell a soul?’ She whispered, eyes filling with tears.
‘I’m the Physician’s apprentice, Gwen. This is my job.’ He didn’t point out that he was also the manservant of one Prattish King, the same one trying to court Gwen.
**
‘You can’t keep ignoring him!’ Gwaine shouted, fingers tightening around the sword he was holding. He wasn’t actually planning on stabbing the King, Arthur knew that. He was probably the only Knight that Arthur would ever allow to speak to him in such a way, because he knew that his anger came in concern of Arthur’s wayward manservant.
‘Gwaine…’ Percival tried to soothe, only for the Knight’s gaze to snap across. The usually quiet-giant fell back into the role, leaving the King and his Knights in an awkward silence.
The issue was that they were supposed to trust each other. There should be no secrets, which was why Arthur had ordered them here, to reveal the names to each other. Each of them had arrived, and now they were in a stalemate, waiting to see who would break first.
‘Merlin’s the Physician’s apprentice, I can’t take him from that role.’ Arthur lied, knowing he’d been avoiding Merlin on purpose. It wasn’t easy, the moment those puppy-dog eyes were turned on him, he struggled to maintain his cold attitude.
A Sorcerer had cursed the whole of Camelot, and that was a problem Arthur was going to face for a very long time. Naturally, under Uther’s reign, they would have been executed. Burned at the Pyre, without hesitation. But with his sister’s Magical talents and the fact he had been considering how to repeal the age-old ban, he was confused on how to proceed. Merlin would have an opinion on the matter, like he always did, and it was usually a judgement that he could trust.
‘Like you do everyday when you overwork him?’ Gwaine growled out, and Arthur went to defend himself, only to find the other Knights looking ready to agree.
‘I don’t…’
‘You do give him quite a lot of jobs, Sire.’ Leon spoke up, the last person Arthur expected to.
‘And so does Gaius.’ Percival inputted.
‘On top of the fact he’s manservant to the King, one of the higher roles, which means he has to oversee the other servants.’ Lancelot’s addition was unexpected, and for a moment, Arthur was going to laugh. Merlin, looking after the others?
But nobody else was laughing, and Arthur trailed off.
‘I guess I should get this over with.’ Elyan began to uncover his arm, breaking the pattern between them. Arthur turned, watched as the bandage fell to the floor and the name was revealed.
‘Oh…’
‘It’s fine. I know that the names aren’t always the same, and…’ Percival’s hand reached for his arm, the undamaged one, and Arthur saw the look exchanged. The Knight lowered the waistband of his breeches, revealing the top of his leg where the word sat. The two men fell silent, both coming to terms with the fact that each other’s name was permanently engraved, while the other Knights watched.
‘I guess I should go next.’ Sir Leon muttered, turning around and revealing the name on his back.
Arthur froze, unsure of how he was supposed to react upon seeing his sister’s name on his First Knight’s skin.
‘I assure you, Sire, I have no intention…’
‘There’s no need to explain, Leon.’ Arthur quickly assured, figuring it would only get worse when they saw the name on his skin.
Eyes turned to Lancelot, who looked increasingly nervous about the name he’d been given. His eyes found Arthur’s, and the King knew.
‘It’s Gwen.’ He concluded, while Lancelot’s blush darkened.
‘I understand that people can have the same name on their skin…’ Arthur held his hand up to cut him off, reaching for his shirt and dragging it up to just above his navel.
If he thought his men were shocked before, it was nothing compared to their current expressions. He felt a similar way, the moment he’d gone to the river and studied the reflection, traced the cut and admired the blood that stained it.
Merlin’s name, a permanent reminder of what he could never have as a King. Worse, he’d have to find a new manservant to dress him now, would never be able to let Merlin see.
‘Well, this is going to be uncomfortable, Princess.’ Gwaine cheerfully announced, reaching for his neck and yanking the shirt down to reveal the exact same name.
‘Brilliant.’
**
‘I tried using Magic to heal it.’ Morgana offered, while Merlin attempted yet another healing spell. They’d always been difficult to understand, despite being told he was the most powerful sorcerer to ever live. If he couldn’t heal a simple scratch on her skin, how was he supposed to keep Arthur alive?
‘The Sorcerer… They were too powerful.’ Merlin grumbled out. The two of them had started as friends, before the Magic had driven them apart. Enemies would have been a word too far, but they slowly became reluctant allies, both wanting Arthur to reach the throne considering his Destiny. When Merlin finally suggested a truce, a series of lessons began in which they tried to amplify their natural ability to use Magic unconsciously.
‘Compared to you? That can’t be good.’ The Lady concluded, tracing Leon’s name with a delicate care.
‘I’ll try and track them down, maybe try and scry.’ Morgana was better at scrying than he was, but she didn’t take the hint to offer. Instead, she was reading the words of the curse that he’d written down, both in this language and the one of the Old Religion. He’d added in Latin, just to be safe, making a third translation in his Spellbook.
‘Human. Why did he specify human?’ She knew. Merlin could see it in her eyes, the concern that was turned to him. Merlin paused, let his eyes flick golden as he locked the door, before removing his shirt.
When he had finally had time to study his own name, he’d understood the words that had been spoken. Now, Morgana’s eyes skipped over the scars he’d had to explain to her, including the Serket sting (curtesy of Morgana’s half-sister), to stare at the name.
Names.
‘Ah.’
‘I’m not human.’ Merlin whispered, trying to keep the words unemotional, but failing to do so. He could feel the tremble in his lip, the way his heart skipped briefly while the Lady took a step towards him.
‘Merlin…’
‘I’m going to watch Arthur grow old, watch them all grow, and I’m going to be left behind.’ It was a rare day that Merlin saw the compassionate Morgana, the one before her fear of Uther rapidly increased.
‘You should tell them.’
‘And who in their right mind would love a man with three names?’ A Warlock with three names. Morgana’s finger reached out, traced over her brother’s name, before dropping to the Knight’s. Finally, it reached for Freya’s, pausing thoughtfully.
‘Maybe it’s time you tell my brother the truth.’
**
Merlin pushed the door open to the King’s room, halting when he found each of the Knights present. For a moment, the determination that he’d worked up faltered, before he reminded himself what he was doing. This was it, he couldn’t hide this forever, and he deserved to tell Arthur the truth.
‘Ah, Merlin, I…’
‘No. I mean, just shut up for a second.’ Arthur frowned, went to point out that he couldn’t address him like that, but Merlin had spent the best part of a quarter of a day planning what to say to the King. He wasn’t going to let the idiot ruin it.
‘Merlin…’ Lancelot warned, but Merlin shook his head.
‘I’ve got Magic. I… I’m a sorcerer.’ It rushed out quicker than all the explanations he could have gone for, looking up to Arthur and watching as the King went pale.
‘Actually, I’m a Warlock, I was born with Magic, but that isn’t the point. I’ve got Magic, I am Magic, and I’ve been using it in Camelot ever since I arrived to try and keep you safe. And now there’s a curse that I don’t know if I can break and a sorcerer that’s running around who could hurt you and Morgana’s trying to convince me we can do it together but I-’ a hand clamped over his mouth, Arthur’s hand, and Merlin fell silent.
At least Arthur wasn’t killing him. Yet.
‘Just… Just shut up for a minute.’ He would have protested, would have even been offended, but Arthur didn’t look angry.
‘You’ve got Magic.’ Arthur even dared to laugh, to which Merlin shoved the King back.
‘Didn’t you just listen to a word of what I said?’
‘I heard you.’
‘So why aren’t you angry?’ Merlin protested, waiting for his punishment, but nothing came. Arthur ran a hand through his hair, before he laughed again.
‘What’s so funny?’
‘I’ve got the name of a sorcerer carved onto my stomach.’ He remarked. Merlin rolled his eyes, scoffing.
‘I told you, I’m a Warl… wait, what?’ The Warlock halted mid-word, but Arthur just looked amused. His lips curled into a smile, the one that Merlin got when he was being an idiot and Arthur was about to throw something at him. Merlin had to watch as the King reached for his shirt, dragging it up to the stomach that he was long-used to seeing.
Only this time, he was allowed to stare. And he did, staring at his own name and then looking up to those bright eyes that he’d grown to love.
‘Oh.’ What else was he supposed to say? None of the Knights moved, waiting for Merlin to react, but the Warlock was unsure of how to respond. Did they expect him to show his own name? But…
‘I guess I’ll join Queenie in his method.’ Gwaine broke the silence, yanked his shirt to the side to reveal his collarbone. Another chest that Merlin was familiar with, and one he had stared at, but it had also changed.
Because his name was on it, and Merlin was pretty sure he was about to pass out.
‘I get that you can only have one of us, or maybe neither, so I’m just going to point out you’ve always been my mate, Merls, and…’
‘I’m not human.’ Gwaine choked off his sentence, and six confused faces looked in his direction. Merlin swallowed down the dryness in the back of his throat, hesitantly reached for his own shirt.
‘I mean, I’m not sure. But… but I don’t have just one name.’ He took his shirt off carefully, leaving his neckerchief on and feeling slightly awkward at standing shirtless in front of six men that were very well built. Especially compared to him.
‘Do I have to share you with this Freya girl?’ Gwaine asked, but the cheekiness was coming through in his sentence, and Merlin couldn’t help but laugh.
‘So you don’t have an issue sharing me with Arthur?’ The King squawked, like he was not entirely sure how this conversation had turned so drastically, and Merlin did his best to look innocent.
‘I’m sure Queenie’s great in bed.’