Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Merlin had discovered early in life that he had a natural talent with the mind magics. His mother, Hunith, and his father, Balinor, used to play chess together when Merlin was young. He would sit on his father’s lap, watching them move the beautifully carved wooden pieces back and forth. He was about six when he decided he wanted to learn how to play. And so he did, by taking the information from his father’s mind. At that age, he didn’t really understand what he had done, but he understood that his father had been proud. His mother warned him not to do it to others, and he didn’t understand why, but he listened to her anyways.

Playing chess together that night was one of Merlin’s clearest memories with his father. A few months later, Balinor and Merlin were in a car crash. Merlin had survived, but his father hadn’t.

He’d always wished he could remember more about his dad, but he got plenty of stories from his mum, mostly about the adventures the pair of them went on before they had Merlin. Balinor had to travel a lot for his work and Hunith refused to stay behind. They went all over the world, meeting magic folk and sharing knowledge. Merlin was never certain what exactly his father’s work was. He knew it had something to do with his magic, but when he inquired further, Hunith always answered “he did a little bit of everything, but he always did good.”

The couple had settled down once they were expecting Merlin, and Balinor took a job at a school so he could raise his son. Merlin had known the school was a school for magic students. When he was old enough to start in school, Merlin had begged and begged to go there, but his mum had refused.

Merlin’s magic was highly tied to his emotions at that age, so when he was angry, his magic raged, whirling around him like a storm. Though he was not an especially temperamental child, even intense excitement could lead to objects being thrown around and his anger tended to break things. He got better at controlling his magic as he grew older, but he still slipped up enough that Will, his best friend, had figured out his secret.

Will had moved to Ealdor less than a year after Balinor died, at a time when Merlin was still angry with grief and avoiding the other children at school. On Will’s first day, he sat next to Merlin, saying he didn’t want to be friends with the other kids either, they were stupid, and he and Merlin should become best friends and rule the world together (or at least the playground, which at that time was their world). They grew close and were soon inseparable. Will was the first person Merlin told when he figured out he wasn’t straight. Merlin was the first friend Will told about his father, who was in prison. They did everything together, which was why Will was so upset when Merlin left for Camelot.

—

Merlin had forgotten all about the mysterious magic school his father taught at by the time Camelot Boarding School sent him a formal offer letter when he was 14. Merlin could sense the magic on the letter the moment his mother brought it inside. It wanted to be read — it reached out to Merlin like a siren call. Before he knew what was happening, he had snatched the letter from his mum and headed off to his room to read it in private.

It turned out Camelot was not a normal boarding school. The letter described how it was instead the training camp and headquarters of EMRYS, the England Magical Recon Youth Sector, a branch of MI6. They did teach maths and history and such, but they also had classes in mind reading, battle magic, disguises, and more - skills that would be of use to a spy. Some particularly talented older students were chosen for missions.

His mother had been supportive of his going - she was told that he was to receive a full scholarship to a prestigious boarding school for the remainder of his schooling. When Merlin approached his best friend Will to tell him, he told Will the same story, which resulted in a shouting match the whole of Ealdor could probably hear. It wasn’t until later, when Merlin told him the real purpose of the school, that Will forgave him for leaving.

--

Merlin started at Camelot that autumn. It was the first time he had been away from home for an extended period of time and at times he missed his mum and Will. While Merlin felt freer at Camelot than he had in Ealdor, on account of not having to hide his magic, he also felt different from the other students. He was popular, but only because of his magic - everyone wanted to hang out with him and sit with him at lunch, eager to be associated with Camelot’s most powerful student.

It was clear from the start that his magic was exceptional. Merlin hadn’t known how unique his gifts were - Ealdor didn’t have many other magic users to compare himself to. But at Camelot, Merlin excelled in all his magic classes, able to learn new concepts quickly and perform new spells on the first try. He quickly progressed through all the material taught in Camelot’s magic classes and started independent study under the tutelage of a teacher named Gaius.

Gaius was an older professor with slightly straggly shoulder-lengthy white hair and a perpetually raised eyebrow. He was kind but strict, always willing to lend an ear but not putting up with any funny business. In their time together, Gaius became a close mentor to Merlin.

During their private lessons, Gaius taught him magical theory as well as advanced spells. Merlin learned that while the Camelot base curriculum covered a range of magics, most people had an affinity for one or two types over others. Gaius specialized in healing magic and other magics that had to do with the body. The head of school, a cryptic old man called Kilgharrah, specialized in predictive magic. This was different from seeing visions of the future, as a seer was able to do - it was instead the ability to sense the most likely outcomes of various hypothetical situations. There were not many who specialized in either type of divination magic, as those who were not born with a talent for it were unable to learn. It turned out to be the only branch of magic Merlin was unable to excel in.

--

Merlin was chosen for a mission less than a year into his training. It was unprecedented - for the most part, a student needed to complete a minimum of two years at Camelot before being considered for a mission, but Merlin’s raw power and his magic’s versatility were unparalleled, making him a uniquely qualified candidate. He was also able to teleport - a skill that was unheard of in practice, though it had been theorized to be possible. Knowing he could get himself to safety if anything went wrong, he accepted his first mission before he even turned 15.

In the two school years since then, he had been on seventeen more missions, some lasting months and others less than a day. He sometimes felt he spent more time away from Camelot than at it, but he knew he was doing good, like his mother had always said of his father.

—

Merlin had just started to settle back at home for the summer before his last year at Camelot when he received a summons. It was in code, but it took mere minutes for Merlin to decode.

Falcon,
Mission with Lionheart at Pendragon Estate Music Academy. Learn harp before briefing on Friday at 7pm.
EMRYS

It seemed his summer wouldn’t be a relaxing one. With a pang, he thought of Will and their plans to spend the summer hanging out, going on bike rides and watching bad movies. He’d have to call and cancel their plans for tonight - it seemed he would be going to the philharmonic to “learn” harp, and there was no way Will would go - he refused to be within 100 feet of any violin ever since his mum had forced him to take lessons in year 6.

Though he regretted the loss of normalcy in moments like this, he was also filled with a sense of excitement to be departing on another adventure.

Chapter Text

Merlin looked out the window as his mum drove them up the driveway to the Pendragon Estate. The residence was more of a palace than a manor, and Merlin was glad he had chosen to wear the new blazer his mum had gotten him for Christmas.

Apparently the program was quite prestigious, and the students were expected to dress as professionals during rehearsals and meals, so during the briefing, the agency had provided him with an entire wardrobe of fancy clothes: button down shirts, new trousers and ties, an assortment of shoes and belts, even a suit and bow tie. While he couldn’t wear any of the new clothing in front of his mum, he had at least worn what had been his nicest outfit.

He wanted to make a good first impression, because he was arriving a week later than all the other participants. While his lateness might be viewed as suspicious, it was necessary, as Camelot had a mandatory two-week break between missions and his previous mission had concluded only a week before the program started. Merlin was glad he had gotten to spend some time with his mum and Will the past week, but he also knew it would make him stick out, which could hinder both his efforts to remain inconspicuous for the mission and any attempts to get close to the other students.

Of course, EMRYS has fabricated a cover story for his late arrival: that the original harpist had backed out last minute, and it had taken a week to get the paperwork ready for Merlin to attend. In reality, the ensemble didn’t originally include a harpist, but the hostess, Lady Morgana, had been convinced to add another instrument to her orchestra.

Lady Morgana was their informant. She had contacted the agency a month ago with claims that her father, Lord Uther Pendragon, was planning a mass genocide of all magic-users in the city of London. After her claims were verified, a plan was made for two EMRYS agents to attend the summer music camp she was hosting at his estate, as his security was very tight and it was difficult to get an adult on the estate for any amount of time, let alone close enough to Uther to gather the needed information.

Merlin needed to be one of the agents, as he had the best mastery of mind reading and manipulation of all eligible agents and could learn to play an instrument instantly and flawlessly enough to pass for someone who would actually be chosen to be in Lady Morgana’s ensemble. The other was a rookie, codename Lionheart, chosen because he was actually a musical prodigy.

Merlin, having spent so much time away from Camelot on missions in the last two years, was not actually familiar with Lionheart, though it was assumed that he was. He was too embarrassed to admit such during the briefing, as it was part of his job to know all other agents he might be partnered with. He hoped the other agent would approach him upon his arrival, otherwise he’d have to confess to Gaius, who would be their handler for the mission.

Gaius would be acting as conductor for the ensemble but would not be in residence, thus he was intended to serve mostly as a messenger for sensitive information. Lionheart’s role was support and reconnaissance, while Merlin would be in charge of gathering intel from Uther.

“I don’t think I’ve seen a building this big that wasn’t a warehouse or a skyscraper,” his mother interjected, interrupting Merlin’s train of thought. And indeed, the palace was huge. The U-shaped building was made of a tan stone and was intricately decorated, with many balconies and tall windows. The driveway looped around a grand fountain, behind which the entrance was flaked by two dragons carved from the same stone as the house.

A staff member in a red uniform opened the door for Merlin’s mum as soon as she stopped the car in front of the entrance. More staff in the same uniform were making their way over, so Merlin hopped out before anyone could open his door for him. They proceeded to take all his luggage out of the trunk, which given the size of the wardrobe he packed, was no small feat.

He had only a moment to look around from a standing vantage point before he was engulfed in a hug from his mum.

“I love you, my little bird. Have fun.” she told him warmly.

“I love you too, mum,” he replied, hugging her back. He was glad the other students weren’t there to witness it, as no matter how often he told himself he was wise enough not to get embarrassed about such things, he was still sixteen.

As his mother let go, Merlin was able to see a pale woman with dark hair in a white pantsuit approaching. Merlin recognized her from the mission files. This was the Lady Morgana.

She was a tall woman, made even taller by her heeled boots, which Merlin judged to add an extra 3 inches. As she got closer, he could make out the same sharp features and precise makeup he remembered from the pictures in her file. Her green eyes were accented by her emerald green necklace and earrings, which, for all Merlin knew, could be actual emerald.

He saw her start to introduce herself to his mum, and he took the opportunity to look around. He took note of the sounds he could hear, any security personnel, the locations and range of a few visible security cameras, as well as several locations for potential hidden ones. He made sure to keep his face looking awed, as if he were merely amazed at such a beautiful sight.

Soon though, his mum was giving him one last hug. “Be safe,” she whispered with one last squeeze.

There were times when Merlin thought his mum might know about his work with EMRYS. She had never been formally informed, and he was of course discouraged from disclosing any information. But every once in a while, she would look at him with a sad but proud expression, like she knew more about what he was up to than she let on.

She had always been a relaxed parent, letting him get up to whatever with Will as long as he didn’t hurt anyone and was home before dark. But ever since he started at Camelot she had given him even more freedom, not asking what he’d been up to when he got home after midnight for a mission or how he had gotten new scrapes and bruises while supposedly going out with Will.

Part of him knew that she knew, but he was glad she never confronted him about it. If she had asked him to stop, to come home where he was safe, he was not sure he’d have been able to make the difficult decision to stay with EMRYS, even knowing he was their best agent and that his work saved lives.

He watched his mum drive off before turning and following Lady Morgana into the palace, with three personnel carrying his luggage behind them. She directed those carrying his bags one way, but took Merlin another way.

“I’d like to introduce you to our other students as soon as possible,” she told him. “Then we can get you set up with a harp. We have several you can choose from, so you will spend the rest of the afternoon deciding on one while the others are in rehearsal.”

Merlin had yet to even touch a harp, and though the knowledge of how to play was integrated into his memory, he was glad he’d have some time alone to practice the logistics before playing in front of anyone else.

--

Morgana led him down a hallway. He could hear the sounds of an ensemble playing, a Mozart concerto, his memories told him. But it was missing a vital part - the harp. This particular piece was a concerto for harp and flute. It seemed he would be taking center stage in the arrangement. He was relieved to find that the piece was one the harpist he borrowed memories from had performed several times, so he wouldn’t have to spend time memorizing new music on top of everything else.

Morgana opened a door that led to a side entrance to what was evidently the rehearsal space. She motioned him to step inside and closed the door softly behind them.

The room itself was huge, high ceilinged with large windows spanning all of what would have been the second floor. They let in a lot of light, despite the sun being on the opposite side of the building. In the morning, it would be spectacular.

Merlin turned his focus to the others in the room.

He immediately spotted the familiar face of Gaius at the front, conducting, though in an unfamiliar outfit. It always surprised Merlin to see him outside of the red robes he wore at Camelot. The first time Merlin had seen the robes, he had thought it an eccentric choice. Apparently, it was the traditional dress for magic-users as far back as the Middle Ages, but Gaius later told him it also served the secondary purpose of protecting him from any errant spells from the students, as it was a family heirloom passed down with generations of magical protections woven into the fabric.

Today, he was wearing a green high collared suit jacket with silver buttons running down an asymmetrical cut. He looked much younger out of the ancient robes. His hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, looking much less frizzy than usual, contributing to the comparative youthfulness of his appearance. The look was completed with green circular sunglasses straight out of the Wizard of Oz novel. Merlin supposed the morning sun would be blinding in the conductor’s spot, a design flaw of the room, apparently. However, there was no need to be wearing them in the afternoon. He wondered if Gaius was going for the hip teacher vibe, and whether it was proving successful or not.

Though Merlin was sure Gaius had sensed them enter the room, aware of his surroundings as any good agent must be, he gave no indication that he noticed anything and simply went on conducting, giving Merlin the opportunity to observe the students without being noticed.

Merlin looked around. These were the peers he would be spending the next three weeks with. One of them was a student at Camelot, though as he let his eyes wander over each concentrated face, he didn’t see a familiar one. It wasn’t surprising. Lionheart had just recently become eligible for assignments, meaning he’d started at Camelot after Merlin had started going out on missions. Since then, he’d spent most of his time away, and what little time he had at Camelot was usually spent in debriefings, private lessons with Gaius, and briefings for his next mission. He hadn’t had time to hang out with his peers in over a year, and likely had never even met Lionheart.

The students were in the middle of a section, so Merlin and Morgana waited, listening silently until they reached a stopping point. As this was a flute and harp concerto, so he paid special attention to the girl who was playing the flute part, sitting right in front of Gaius.

Merlin imagined that her beauty was the first thing many noticed about her, but the first thing he noticed was her eyes. They were a deep brown and looked kind, even narrowed in concentration while playing her part. As her part ended, she relaxed her arms and rested her flute in her lap, though her face remained concentrated, listening to the others and counting the measures to keep pace.

His mind analyzed her face in the way he had been taught at Camelot. She had a warm tawny-brown complexion with a small scattering of freckles and a birthmark to the right of her nose. Her chin was well-defined and her cheeks were full and round. Her hair was half pulled up and the part that was down was in thick black curls that reached a few inches past her shoulders.

Before Merlin had the chance to look around at the other students, Gaius ended the run through with a wave of his arms. After a moment of confused cacophony, silence filled the large hall, broken a moment later by Gaius. “I see we have acquired an audience. Lady Morgana,” he greeted with a deep nod. “And this would be the new addition, I presume?” Gaius inquired with a sharp and inquiring look at the lady.

“Yes, Gaius,” she replied lightly with a hint of humor, “this is Merlin, our new harpist.” She then addressed the rest of the students. “I hear everything is starting to come together, and I’m sure Merlin will be a wonderful addition to our group.”

She looked sideways at Merlin, smiling with a hint of a challenge. She knew he was undercover, and she was testing him. If he couldn’t make these children believe his cover story, how would Uther ever believe him? He would have to introduce himself, without giving away his cover.

“Hi everyone,” he said, with a purposefully awkward little wave. “I’m Merlin,” he repeated. He added a moment of hesitation, paired with a glance down at his hands. “Uh, I’ve been playing harp for almost 10 years now,” he added, before looking back at Morgana, again awkwardly, to indicate he was done. He saw a brief flash of approval cross her face before she turned back to address the students.

“Merlin will be spending the afternoon picking out a harp, so he’ll join us all at dinner,” she informed them all. “Chef Audrey has prepared something special to welcome our new guest, so be sure to get there on time or you’ll miss out.”

One student whooped at the news, eliciting a few giggles from the others. Morgana smiled and nodded at them once more in dismissal of their attention, then turned and motioned for Merlin to follow her once again. Merlin took one more look around, catching Gaius’ eye briefly before turning to comply.

--

Morgana led him down a series of halls, up and down flights of stairs in various directions, and finally, after several minutes, she opened a door to a room that was full of instruments.

He looked around the room. It was large, though not as large as the rehearsal room. It was obviously a storage space, as half-full shelves and random furniture dominated the space. However, the richness of the decor spoke to a different intended function, which was odd for a subterranean room. The floor was covered in a deep red carpet with gold brocade and the walls had dark wood paneling. The two long sides of the room has red arches with electric candelabras. What finally gave it away was the graduated floor, something he had only seen in theaters. This must have been a home movie theatre at some point, perhaps as long ago as the early 1900’s.

Set in a half-circle on the uppermost section of the room were four beautiful harps. Even before he’d gained knowledge of harps, he’d have been able to tell that these were priceless works of art. Each was carved with intricate designs.

Merlin was immediately drawn to one that was carved in the shape of two dragons with their necks entwined at the crown. The dragons on the harp were gold, though the rest of the harp was not painted, just a simple medium reddish-brown wood.

It reminded him of the little wooden dragon figurines his father would carve for him. It was one of the only taste Balinor refused to use magic for. He would take a tiny Merlin on his lap and show him how to sand, with the grain. What a finished carving should feel like in your hands, which he always said couldn’t be replaced by magic. He found himself reaching out to touch the dragon, to feel the finish, but as he realized what he was about to do, he pulled back on instinct.

Morgana chuckled. “You’re allowed to touch them, you know. In fact, it’s what you’re here to do,” she joked lightheartedly.

“I suppose I am,” he replied, smiling back at her. “They’re beautiful,” he added, still stunned that he would be allowed to interact with such art.

“Well, you can get started on picking one out,” she told him, “and if you finish with that before I send someone to escort you to dinner, you can entertain yourself by looking around this room. It’s used as storage now, but there may be some hidden gems around. Might help you get acquainted with the palace. You never know when that might come in handy,” she finished with a pointed look, and with that, she turned and exited. He heard her heels clicking down the hall.

This was another test, he was sure. Morgana wanted him to figure it out for himself, to see if he was as skilled and stealthy as he’d need to be for the mission.

He’d never encountered a civilian quite like Morgana. She was sharp and inquisitive. She didn’t automatically trust that Merlin would be sufficient for the mission until he proved it to her. She had an air of competence, but more than that, she seemed to comprehend more than anyone he’d ever met.

He had interacted with all sorts of informants before, from frightened to arrogant, and yet Morgana was different. Though she had some of the pride and loftiness of the arrogant ones, she wasn’t trying to control Merlin’s actions as they did. She seemed cautious, but was in no way fearful. She was certainly able to put up an act, flawlessly, a skill many of his peers struggled with, and himself too, on occasion.

Merlin could only guess at what had caused her to be that way at such a relatively young age - she was only 26, according to the briefing, and her brother Arthur only 23. Perhaps it was a result of growing up a lady, interacting with the peerage and needing to maintain an appropriate facade from a young age. But it seemed to Merlin to be more than that. She seemed to be analyzing him with the same scrutiny he was taught to use at Camelot.

She couldn’t be part of the agency, however, or he would have been told during his briefing. He had heard tales of other EMRYS agents being left out of the loop of classified information on missions, but Merlin had the highest clearance of any student. The only person with a higher clearance than him at Camelot was Kilgharrah; even Gaius wasn’t allowed to know some information Merlin was told for his missions if he wasn’t directly involved.

So unless she was somehow an even more secret agent than him, that couldn’t be the case. But there was just something about her. Either way, he had to prove himself to her before she would fully trust him. He decided to get the harp decision out of the way before starting on Morgana’s challenge.

He sat down behind the dragon harp and strummed, feeling the odd sensation of someone else’s memories informing his motions. It was syrupy and sweet, and had a similar feel to the concert harp the memories were accustomed to. It had gut strings, so it would definitely be loud enough to use with an ensemble. He played a few arpeggios and a short section of a piece from his memories before moving on.

The next harp was black with gold accents, and had nylon strings and had a bit brighter sound. The looser nylon strings may be easier for his hands to work with, as he didn’t have the muscles and calluses a true harpist would have developed, but his memories informed him that a nylon string harp might not do as well as part of an ensemble, as they tended to be a bit quieter.

The third was painted a deep forest green with parallel gilded designs on the soundboard. It was a lever harp, more suited for Celtic pieces than classical. Merlin played around on it for a while, enjoying the sound of the quick ornaments this type of harp was particularly suited for.

The last was comparatively unembellished, a simple concert harp with synthetic strings. It’s sound profile was similar to the first, though it lacked some depth that Merlin couldn’t quite name.

Merlin decided on the dragon harp. He was glad that turned out to be the harp best fitted to the situation, as it was his favorite. While the string tension may prove a challenge, he would just have to reinforce his fingers with magic, as he had practiced on other muscles in body magics class.

--

Merlin spent the rest of the afternoon getting familiar with the layout of the palace, both by using maps that he had found digging around the room a bit and by reaching out his magic to sense the spaces around him. He found the kitchens quite easily, the area with the most activity after the rehearsal room. He sensed his belongings a bit farther away, on the top floor in a large room with only one large bed. That was good. He was worried he’d have to deal with a roommate, which would make sneaking out at night much harder. He refused to use mind magic on civilian children, even just to ensure they stayed asleep. That had been a point of contention during his briefing, but it wasn’t like they could replace him. He had to maintain his moral boundaries otherwise what was he doing this for.

It was a few hours after Morgana had left him in the room when Merlin sensed someone walking down the corridor towards him - a student he had sensed in the rehearsal room earlier. He quickly magicked the dragon harp to play and floated the books to put themselves away as he walked over to the harp. The hallways were long, so Merlin was able to get his hands aligned with the melody playing on the harp by the time the student knocked on the door to announce their presence.

Merlin stopped playing as the student stuck their head in. The first thing Merlin saw was a mop of curly reddish-blond hair, then the boy stepped in and Merlin got a good look at him. He was gorgeous.

His hair stood out the most, parted to one side and flopping aesthetically around his pale pink-tinged face, inviting one to get lost in the intricate curls. His sparse eyebrows were set low over greyish-blue eyes that were kind but serious, with a hint of naive awe that Merlin thought complemented the cute smile he wore on his narrow pink lips.

His cheeks were flushed, as though he were nervous, or rather as if he had just walked up multiple flights of stairs, which Merlin reminded himself was probably the case.

“Hi, I’m Leon,” the student introduced himself.

“Merlin,” Merlin said, sticking out his hand to shake Leon’s. When Leon took his hand to shake, Merlin felt a tingle, which usually meant the person whose hand he was shaking had magic, though Merlin’s magic was known to be temperamental in times of high emotion, such as when confronted with feelings of attraction.

“I remember,” Leon replied and dropped Merlin’s hand. “Morgana sent me to fetch you for dinner, It’s like a maze around here,” he explained.

“Thanks,” Merlin said with a smile, which he hoped came across as flirtatious, but was probably just awkward.

They chatted amicably as Leon led him to the dining room. Leon was friendly, and more than that, he was funny. Merlin knew he was here on a mission, but he couldn’t help but think it wouldn’t be a bad thing to walk out of this with a new friend. Or more.

--

At dinner, he sat between Leon and Gwen, the flautist he would be duetting with. Gwen was kind, asking Merlin about himself and making sure he was included in the conversation. He also made sure to spend some time listening to the others’ conversations, as he was still trying to narrow down who the other agent might be, though casual dinner conversation may not be the best data for such a deduction.

As the meal was unsupervised, there was a bit of rowdiness, mostly at the other end of the table. A tanned white boy with long brown hair and prominent eyebrows talked loudly, and laughed even louder.

“That’s Gwaine,” Gwen told him, spotting where he was looking. “He’s a bit loud, but he’s really nice underneath all the bluster. He’s really serious about practice too, always gets up early to warm up before our group warm up at 8.” Merlin tried to be less obvious listening into other conversations after that, and he pretended to focus on the food instead.

The food was amazing - succulent steak on a bed of mashed potatoes surrounded by green beans, topped with a shallot-peppercorn sauce and garnished with a sprig of thyme. Dessert was a chocolate mousse that Merlin had never tasted the likes of, garnished with a sprig of mint. He found himself truly distracted by the delicious fare, and so was surprised when he heard Morgana’s voice above the din.

“Alright, we’ve had an exciting day, but that doesn’t excuse you from practice time,” she announced. “I want to hear every one of you practicing as I walk down the hall. Scales and arpeggios until 6:30, then you can move on to the concerto if you wish. Except you, Leon, I want you to show Merlin around a bit. I don’t want him getting lost on his way to breakfast tomorrow.”

“Sure thing,” Leon agreed, smiling brightly at Merlin. This was going to be a good mission, Merlin predicted.

—

Leon took him around the gardens first. How this was a necessary part of the tour, Merlin didn’t know, but he was extremely pleased either way. The gardens were beautiful, and dressed up as the two of them were, it felt almost like a romantic first date.

Merlin hadn’t been on any real dates, though he’d been a part of three fake relationships for missions. The most important rule about dating during a mission was not to catch feelings, and luckily, as all his targets had been female, he’d had no trouble with that. He had felt bad deceiving them though, as they were, for the most part, innocent of their parent’s crimes. Though falling for an incidental civilian was not as explicitly banned, he likely should stop this from happening. Unfortunately, Merlin couldn’t control what he felt. And what he felt was attraction. And nervousness.

Leon also looked nervous about something, although maybe it was just Merlin’s imagination, hoping that Leon was feeling as flustered in his presence as he felt in Leon’s. Merlin felt the urge to get closer to him, to impress him, to hold his hand. All impulses he knew he should suppress, as he was here for a mission.

They strolled around at a leisurely pace, while Leon talked about the palace, the music program, Lady Morgana, and Uther himself. Apparently Lord Uther had stopped in the first day of the program so Morgana could introduce him to the students and parents, though he had said nothing and left as quickly as he could without being impolite. None of the students had seen him since, which wasn’t as suspicious as it sounded, as the estate was large and the students were only allowed in the one wing. Leon was describing Master Gaius when they spotted Morgana and Uther also walking around the gardens.

Even from a distance, Uther looked uptight: he stood stiffly despite the fact he was on a leisurely stroll in the gardens with his daughter. He wore a high-collared jacket like Gaius’, though unlike Gaius’, his was black and had a traditional cut. It was rather old fashioned and the weather was far too hot for it to be reasonable. Morgana was still in the white trousers from earlier, though she had discarded her jacket to reveal a silky green tank.

They walked slowly. Morgana chatted relaxedly, and Uther responded occasionally. Though they were arm in arm, it was clear to Merlin that this was not the same sort of relationship he shared with his mother. There was none of the closeness, and there was instead a sort of formality, as though the private stroll was actually performative. Uther looked as though the conversation was almost a transaction, a necessary exchange of information and nothing more. Morgana looked for all the world as if she were truly engaged and enjoying the time with her father, but based on the information he had, he knew it was an act. It was a good one, too.

Morgana turned them around a corner, heading down a path that would intersect with Merlin and Leon’s, though at their slow pace, they would not reach it until Merlin and Leon were well past. As they approached the intersection, Merlin pretended to trip and delayed their pace by retying his shoe. He stood up just as Uther and Morgana reached them.

“Ah, Merlin, the young man of the moment,” Morgana greeted. “And Leon, how is the tour going? I’m glad you were able to get outside before sunset, I’m afraid with all their diligent practice, the others will miss the sunshine.”

“Yes, my Lady,” Leon responded formally.

“It’s Morgana, Leon, and to you as well, Merlin. I don’t prefer to stand on formality like my dear father here,” Morgana added, playfully patting Uther’s arm.

“My Lord,” Merlin said, extending his hand in greeting. Technically, extending a handshake uninvited was improper in this situation, but Merlin needed skin-to-skin contact to plant the idea of a midnight stroll into Uther’s subconscious, and he could pass it off as the social blunder of a clueless teen.

Merlin was glad to see he had taken off his gloves in the evening warmth. Uther was known to wear magic-resistant clothing and gloves to decrease his chances of being cursed, which was a bit paranoid, in Merlin’s opinion. Although, as Merlin was currently using his lack of gloves to curse him, perhaps he was just being realistic.

Morgana looked smugly on as Uther took his hand and shook once. Perhaps she had seen the slight gleam of gold in his eyes that indicated he had just performed a spell. She had orchestrated this somehow, he was certain. Merlin was amazed at Morgana’s forethought, to arrange an introduction to Uther on Merlin’s very first day, the only day he might have an excuse to actually shake Uther’s hand.

Leon simply bowed slightly, the more proper greeting, though he curiously also avoided eye contact with Uther. To anyone not trained in body language as extensively as Merlin, it would seem he was simply nervous. But as Merlin had seen Leon’s nervousness the whole walk, he could tell this was something different.

“Merlin here is the replacement harpist,” Morgana informed Uther. “I was telling you how I thought I’d have to change the piece because the other one dropped out, remember? Well Merlin here was a godsend, truly, so eager to get started as soon as possible, yet the background check took an entire week to come back before he was allowed on the estate. I’m sure he’s been practicing on his own, however, right Merlin?” she said, all with a faux enthusiasm that would have convinced even Merlin if he hadn’t known she was lying.

“Of course I have,” he said, a bit cheekily, emulating a teenager who had certainly done nothing of the sort.

“Well we will see tomorrow in rehearsal either way,” she said mock haughtily. “Perhaps you will join us, father?” she inquired, turning towards Uther.

“Likely not, tomorrow is a busy day,” Uther responded, pulling Morgana along without leaving space for a farewell from either boy.

Leon and Merlin simply watched the pair stroll away. Once they were out of earshot, they shared a glance and burst into quiet giggles. “I didn’t expect him to be so… I don’t know, rude?” Merlin observed. “Even to Morgana! I mean, she was trying to introduce us and he just walked away!”

“Yeah, and his face when you dared to shake his hand!” Leon replied. “Ugh, what a creep.”

“Well it is his palace,” Merlin conceded. “We’re just the little children running underfoot, I’m sure he has more important business to attend to.”

“I’m sure he does,” Leon muttered, almost darkly, and so quietly Merlin wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly.

They went inside to continue the tour shortly after the encounter. Leon spoke about the history of the building and showed Merlin which places they were allowed to go and which they weren’t.

—

When Leon finally dropped Merlin off in front of his room, Merlin couldn’t stop thinking about him, analyzing their conversation and wondering. That little slip-up in the garden had Merlin thinking, what if Leon was Lionheart? Leon meant Lion, and Leon certainly looked fit enough to have been through Camelot’s grueling training program. It would also explain why Morgana kept sending Leon to show Merlin around. She would have already met the other agent, and perhaps she was giving them a chance to exchange any relevant information about the mission in private. Merlin wished it to be true, but if that was the case, why hadn’t Leon said anything?

They had all learned codes at Camelot that could be used to subtly determine if someone was also an agent, and Leon hadn’t used any. Merlin had thought he was a few times, hoped more like, but each time Leon took the sentence somewhere different. Of course, Merlin hadn’t either, but as he was the only student arriving late, the other agent should already be aware of his identity and should therefore be the first one to reach out.

No, Leon couldn’t be Lionheart, it was just Merlin’s wishful thinking, his crush telling him that he wanted to spend all his free time with this kind, gorgeous boy. He resigned himself to asking Gaius to point out the other agent in the morning before practice, already mentally preparing for the scolding and the eyebrow of doom that had smothered many a Camelot student’s self-importance.