Chapter Text
Merlin knew this would happen. Well, he didn’t, but he’d heard enough of what his Mother had warned him about. He sobbed, bit down into his fist to try and stop the sound from travelling, before wrapping his cloak tighter around him. The herbs lay in a mess around his ankles, proof that this had not worked at all, and he placed a hand to his stomach.
Gaius. He’d be able to help, the Court Physician could be trusted in this matter. Sneaking into Camelot was always harder than sneaking out, a couple of spells muttered to keep him hidden. The nausea rose up, the potion he’d taken doing nothing but making bile in his gut. He made it to his home, slipped in through the open door and shut it behind him.
‘You’re back later than normal, did Arthur not…’ Gaius halted, and Merlin dared to raise his eyes to his Uncle. The Physician studied him, from the hooded cloak over his form, to the empty potion bottle in his hand. Then there was the fact that he was probably very pale, apart from his eyes. They would be red-rimmed, Merlin had been crying for quite some time.
‘My boy, what is it?’ That was what he’d been afraid of, the compassion. He stumbled towards his mentor, sunk down onto the bench and swallowed.
‘Something happened. At the last tournament.’ The Warlock had never been more afraid than he was now, leg shaking and his fingers hooked together.
‘Whatever it is, I’ll do my best to help.’ Gaius took a seat opposite him. Merlin couldn’t meet his eye, studied the wooden benching rather than the man that he viewed as a father.
‘Dragonlords, we have a different… anatomy.’ He didn’t know how much Gaius was aware of, so he had to dare to raise his head. Confusion, followed by brief understanding.
‘The ability to reproduce, during specific lunar events.’ Apparently, it was supposed to help ensure more Dragonlords would be born. They didn’t just have to be with a woman, they could sire their own children and bear them.
Merlin placed a hand to his slightly swollen stomach, watched as his Uncle tracked the movement.
‘It was the Knight that Arthur assigned me to. I… If I used my Magic, the King would have found out.’ Merlin knew others had gone through this. He’d heard Gwen whispering tales of what Knights might do to servants, but it was usually only the females. Merlin had never had the unfortunate luck of running into a man quite like the Knight he had been tasked with looking after.
‘Oh Merlin…’ No, he didn’t want sympathy. Nor pity. Merlin could deal with what happened, knowing the Knight would never bother him again. It had been a one-time deal, throwing Merlin down to the stone.
‘I think Lady Morgana might know. We’ve been practicing Magic together, and…’ And she’d spotted the bruising, the way he winced for days after. The fact that he’d become sick, stroppy and miserable had hinted towards things he couldn’t explain. Plus, she’d read his spell-book, knew about a Dragonlord’s anatomy.
‘I tried to get rid of it. With the herbs you use to help women…’ This time he stopped fully. He had no idea how to deal with this, not now that it was out in the open. Merlin finally risked a glance back to his Uncle, who was just studying him.
‘Sit up on the table and let me have a look.’ Merlin did as told, slowly clambered up and sat back after he’d stripped off his cloak. Gaius moved around the table with care, reaching out gently. It didn’t stop him from flinching when a hand reached the hem of his shirt, rose it up carefully.
His stomach was swollen, rounded slightly with just a hint of what had happened. There was still evidence of the attack, despite how long it had been. Fading bruises that had been dug too deep, fingernails that had made marks into his flesh and remained. His stomach was lightly bruised as well, mostly because Merlin kept trying to hit it.
‘These ones are self-inflicted?’ Gaius traced over them, Merlin nodding numbly. The herbs hadn't worked. He’d taken such a high dosage, but nothing had worked.
‘Which herbs?’ He listed them off, the amounts he’d used and in what forms, noted the way that Gaius winced.
‘That could have killed you.’ But it didn’t. And he still had the problem of his growing belly.
‘I just want it gone.’ His Uncle looked saddened, so Merlin looked up to the ceiling, tried to prevent the tears that threatened to fall.
‘If the herbs did not work, then I believe your Magic may be protecting… it.’ He was going to be sick, Merlin realised. Gaius seemed to pick up on it as well, reached for the bucket and managed to get it under his nose in time for him to throw up everything left in his system.
‘We could ask the Druids.’ Gaius finally suggested, while Merlin wondered if stabbing himself in the gut was a viable option. Better that, than have the whole of Albion find out that he was pregnant. And a Dragonlord. And still a male.
‘I tried Magic. It… doesn’t work.’ Merlin felt his throat tighten, especially when a hand came to rest on his shoulder. It was supposed to be reassuring, but Merlin flinched regardless.
‘Merlin, I think it time that Arthur knows about…’
‘No. He can’t.’ He would never tell Arthur about his Magic, would never make the King make a choice between the still in place Magic-ban, and Merlin. He may believe and trust Morgana, but that was because they were brother and sister. If Merlin told him, Arthur would probably have to banish him. He’d leave everything, his job, his friends and his Uncle.
But if he couldn’t get rid of this baby, then the others would find out. Gwen, Morgana, the Knights of the Round Table. Arthur.
‘You think he wouldn’t support you?’
‘He’d be mad to.’ Merlin whispered, placed a hand over his belly and tried not to hate the creature within. It wasn’t his fault, but maybe he should have done something when it happened. Should have told Arthur that the Knight had a habit of touching servants in inappropriate places.
‘We have to do something, Merlin.’ Or he could do what he usually did, pretend until it worked. If he could last long enough, he could have the baby and then… find a home for it. Maybe the Druids would want it, or someone who couldn’t have children.
‘I’ll figure something out.’ He lied.
The door opened quite suddenly, Merlin shooting off the table and his shirt falling to cover his stomach.
‘Merlin, we…’ Arthur halted, looking between Gaius, and him, with a confused expression. Oh right, the tears. Merlin scrubbed at his eyes quickly, tried to pretend that it was nothing more than something in his eye.
‘Nice knocking, Sire.’ He joked, grabbed at his cloak and wrapped it around his shoulders. Just in case.
‘I… should I come back later?’ Arthur addressed the question at him, even if his eyes were on Gaius. Silently asking for answers that the Physician wouldn’t give.
‘No, we weren’t doing anything important. What’s wrong?’ Merlin wished he had more time, needed to eat something to settle his stomach.
‘We’re going on a Hunt. Leaving first thing in the morning.’ That wasn’t good news. Merlin swallowed, before smiling up brightly.
‘Just brilliant, hunting innocent animals and dealing with you idiots.’ The King scowled, before turning sharply and striding from the room.
How was he supposed to keep this a secret?