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When they try to hang him, he floats.
*
They put him on the pyre at dawn.
He doesn’t burn.
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Bookmark Notes:
“I’m supposed to kill you, eventually. I already tried a sword. That can’t work.”
“Not—about—the weapon—” the sorcerer—Emrys, he called himself—gasps out. His hair looks nearly black against the pallor of his skin. “Should—have—figured—that—out—already—you—clotpole.”
Arthur nearly drops him. That’s Merlin’s word, his and Merlin’s word, just like he is Merlin’s height, and his hair is black and his eyes are blue and he knew those hands and that smile and that faith.
Then Gaius is there, at the sorcerer’s—at Merlin’s—side, and he is easing him away from Arthur as Arthur stands frozen, and Merlin smiles. “Told you you’d miss me,” he mutters as his eyes flutter closed into unconsciousness.
He’s not sure what he would have done, how he would have reacted, but he’s not sure there was anything Merlin could have done that would have made Arthur execute him. Maybe kill the king. Maybe. Arthur would have been willing to listen to his reasons; he probably would have had good ones. -
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Bookmark Notes:
Merlin comes back as a sorcerer and eases Arthur into magic before revealing himself
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Bookmark Notes:
Angsty! And so well written with a nice seasoning of pining
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Bookmark Notes:
arthur being obsessed with merlin for the entire fic and merlin showing him that magic isn’t so bad. IM obsessed