Chapter Text
Arthur groaned as Merlin shifted in his sleep again.
The noise of the workers was driving him insane. More correctly, the noise kept waking Merlin, and Merlin was driving Arthur insane, but details are for betas.
“Arthur! Arthur!” Merlin squirmed. Like many omega, Merlin had the ability to go from slow wave sleep to hyper alert instantly (probably the only reason Uther still hadn’t had his way… well that and Merlin’s increasing range of paralysis spells).
“Yes, Merlin?” Arthur sighed.
“…noiioooiiiise!” Whined Merlin. Omega whining was just like regular people whining (but with more elbows).
“You want me to go down there and tell them to stop?” Asked Arthur, who could make out Merlin’s nod in the dim light (it was important to keep a candle lit at night because Merlin was a vivid dreamer and it was vital he realize Arthur was not a baked lamprey in hot sauce (Merlin’s dreams were oddly specific) lest his future reproductive success be thwarted). “But they're working under the King's orders.”
Merlin grumbled something unsavory and booted Arthur out of bed.
Arthur hadn’t come back (Morgana strikes) and the noise had continued… which might have been bearable on its own, but Merlin needed Arthur for other things. He’d tried chewing on George for a while, but it just wasn’t the same.
Hence Merlin found himself poking around the excavation site in the middle of the night.
Hmm. Rock. Rock. Dead guy. Rock. No Arthur. Rock.
Omegas never actually killed people (if one discounted ‘accidental’ deaths like those Morgana inflicted, blanket feuds and ye olde history of sexual cannibalism; romanticized by many alpha as the ultimate expression of love (and many omega as a ‘dating up’ strategy ( ingest the pest and find a quality mate! )), but Merlin had been the only one at the scene when the body had been found.
“What do you think happened?“ Gaius asked Merlin, just in case he knew something (unlikely, there was no evidence of any bite marks so obviously Merlin had arrived only moments before the guards.
“Dead.” Stated Merlin expertly. Merlin didn’t really get what all the fuss was about. There were always dead guys in tombs. Always. This one was just a little fresher than normal.
“Do you think the tomb might be cursed?” asked Gaius nervously causing Merlin to narrow his eyes. Gaius had been all stanky about not getting that rabbits foot talisman back yet, but Merlin needed to play dumb and hope it passed through in one piece like Gwen’s necklace had last week (there were always risks associated when it came to putting things in your mouth).
As Gaius worked his way across to Merlin (who was busy stripping the corpses left boot) he triggered a trap. A stone bird shot a dart but Merlin, without turning from his task, raised a hand, causing a plate to fly up, preventing the dart from hitting Gaius.
“You just saved my life!” exclaimed Gaius. ”Thank you.”
Uther chose that moment to appear (as he often did). Merlin had been well and truly brainwashed by Gaius (using Hunith’s patented ham and broom approach to omega reconditioning) that he must not use magic casually and particularly not around the King, let the plate fall (unfortunately the omega concept on horizontal and vertical was rather fluid (and not just in the bedroom) so it smacked Uther in the face as it fell).
“What idiot did that…” Uther accused, before immediately stopping his rant. “Oh you!” he purred, sidling up to Merlin.
“Were you born clumsy or do you work at it?” Asked Arthur jealously, still looking peaky from his earlier run in with Morgana.
Merlin preened to acknowledge Arthurs compliment.
“Well this is quite a find.” Declared Uther (whether Uther was talking about finding Merlin or the tomb would remain unanswered). “You see, Gaius, I was right! There is treasure to be found under Camelot!” (still unclear) “Which of my predecessors do I have to thank for all this? Gaius?”
“Uh… I'd have to look into it, Sire.” Answered Gaius, who we must recall was an elderly gent who had just been pulled out of his warm bed in the wee hours to look at a corpse.
“…and how did he die?” asked Uther, curious in how the dead excavator had gotten Merlin’s attention. Because Uther also had socks too and he was prepared to play dead…
“He seems to have unwittingly triggered a trap here.” Answered Gaius (it was glaringly obvious once one noticed the dart in his neck, the same kind Gaius had recently avoided with Merlin’s intervention).
“To deter grave robbers!” Added Arthur, desperate to earn Uther’s approval.
“Well there's plenty in here people would want to steal.” Uther grunted, eyes never leaving Merlin’s behind. “And some gold too. Have them secure the tomb. Guarding it is your responsibility, Arthur.”
“Yes, Father!”
“…So this jewel, what size would you say it was?”
“About this size.” Said excavator Tom (not to be confused with smoked pigeon), holding his closed fist to Cedric.
“My word, really? About that size, you say? Well, I never.” As an alpha, Cedric had much interest in things with monetary value. ”Here you are! Drink up!” He poured Tom another drink. “And, uh, this tomb… I bet they got that locked up nice and safe, haven't they?”
“Tighter than the King's braies.” Chuckled Tom.
“Yeah. Must be a way in, though.” Cedric coerced.
“Not unless you’re an omega… You’d need the keys.”
“Right, right, right. And who's got the keys?”
Cedric, we must understand, was a bit of a conman. Between the alcohol, persistence and his alpha charisma, Tom didn’t stand a chance.
“Only the Prince. But don't get your hopes up. He keeps them in his private chambers, and there's only one person allowed in there, same one as Uther wouldn’t mind in his knickers.”
“Hurry up, Merlin!” Snapped Arthur.
Merlin rolled his eyes in annoyance. While it might appear Merlin slept a lot, it was really a series of carefully moderated power naps alternated with bursts of activity. Merlin’s typical nightly routine generally involved putting Arthur to bed. Nap(and snack). Nap. Snog Arthur. Nap. Breakfast. Nap. Interrupted as the schedule had been Merlin had been robbed of two snacks and 18 minutes of sleep, and his blood sugar was suffering (while he had eaten both his own and Arthurs breakfast to compensate and managed to reclaim 26 minutes of sleep by foregoing Arthurs morning kiss, that was hardly the point). And now he had to sneak out of the castle and go hunting (mmm liver).
“Well, there's a surprise.” Arthur stated genuinely surprised, looking at the strappy whatsit that had come loose. Usually George was so thorough… but then he had to deal with Merlin’s terrible mood this morning, so he could hardly be blamed…
“Would you like me to fit the girth properly for you, Sire?” Interrupted not-George.
Merlin’s eyes snapped up. An alpha. There was an alpha. He glanced at Arthur expecting a reaction.
“Thank you.” Said Arthur, confused. Alpha did not servant. This must therefore be a beta.
“It's an honour to be of service to the Prince.” Cedric wheedled.
“An honour. Do you hear that Merlin?” Arthur preened.
“Allow me the honour of brushing your clothes down.” Cedric suggested, causing Merlin to gasp. Touching Arthur was Merlin’s thing…
“The honour.” Arthur stage whispered, smirking at Merlin. Somehow, despite Arthur living in a castle, being son of the king and sometimes even wearing an actual crown, Merlin had never actually acknowledged Arthur as royalty. Or at least Arthur didn’t think so… maybe ‘prat’ really was what they called princes in Ealdor like Leon had suggested… (Leon wasn’t wrong, it just wasn't normally to their faces).
“Anything else I can do for you, sir?” Cedric asked patiently.
Arthur considered. Merlin was still sluggishly following. “Well, you can give Merlin here a kick up the backside…”
Cedric chuckled in reply. There were certainly things he would like to do with that omega’s backside… but he had to convince the prince he was a beta if he was going to get close enough to steal those keys… “I wouldn't wish to deprive you of the pleasure, sir.”
“Ha! What's your name?”
“Cedric. I've come to Camelot in search of work.”
“Good. You can be a beater on the hunt. We're short of a man or two.”
“You're too kind, Sire.”
Merlin glared. Alpha weren’t meant to act like betas…
Where was George? It had been over an hour and Merlin hadn’t had his snack yet. He growled grumpily and went to investigate Arthur’s saddle bag. Which was empty thanks to Cedric leaving George unconscious and hog tied in a broom closet (the last place Merlin would think to look) back in Camelot. Merlin angrily smacked Arthur in the side of the head.
“Merlin…” Suggested Cedric, holding out a piece of beef jerky.
Merlin growled and took it. He might not like or trust Cedric, but he wasn’t going to die of starvation for the sake of his pride.
“You just saved my life!” Arthur admitted. How could George possibly forget to pack supplies for Merlin? Was he unwell?
“Honestly, Sire, it was nothing.” Cedric coaxed.
“I shall be forever indebted to you.” Arthur stated, watching Merlin chewing on the dried beef. “You must be rewarded.”
“No, I couldn't possibly.”
“Come on. What do you wish for?”
“I desire only one thing, Sire.” Cedric hesitated, eyes flashing to the omega and away. Later.
“Anything!” Agreed Arthur readily (Uther would be protesting vehemently against such a dangerous promise… if he wasn’t back in Camelot stuck in his own pit trap wearing nothing but socks at that moment).
“A position in the royal household.” Cedric suggested.
“Good. Consider it done.” Arthur agreed. “Ha-ha!” he exclaimed as Merlin visibly perked up (stopped sulking) as the food disappeared.
“What's wrong?” Asked Gaius.
Merlin made some vague gestures and grunts.
“I… see… “ Gaius said diplomatically. When Merlin was in one of his moods it was best to distract him. ”Come look, I found this inscription on the sceptre.”
Merlin looked at the inscription which made no sense to him at all.
“I’m not sure what it says. Sigan would have known many languages.” Gaius explained.
Merlin froze. Sigan? The tomb of Cornelius Sigan?
Well of course he knew who Cornelius Sigan was!
“You didn't grow up in Camelot, but for those of us that did, Cornelius Sigan was a figure of nightmare.” Gaius explained, presuming Merlin had no clue who he was talking about. He was a powerful sorcerer that could change day into night, turn the tides, and legend has it, his spells helped build Camelot itself.”
Cornelius Sigan was the greatest omega to have ever existed in Camelot (until his tragic death where he had suffocated under a stack of what was reported to be no less than 200 very fine blankets) and rumour had it his tomb was filled with many magnificent treasures, gifts from his many, many alpha suitors, and thousands of black feathers (it had taken several generations for the raven population to recover) which one can only presume were his obsession at the time of death.
More importantly, no less than 200 very fine blankets.
“In the end Sigan couldn't bear the thought that his wealth and blankets would die with him, so he became obsessed with finding a way to defeat death itself” Gaius continued, “let us hope for all out sakes he did not succeed."