Spellbound

[ayoungboy]

This week has been fucking exhausting. He'd been consuling all week and dealing with a threat over in Norway. Somebody trying to brew mind control potions, again. Why couldn't everybody just get along and stop fussing? He's finally back home, in England, heading up the wizarding council while they go over worldwide news, and he gets an invite - no, it isn't that. It's more of a demand, from King Pendragon.

He's a bit tired, really, and didn't feel like dealing with it. "Not now, thank you. Politely decline, for me?" He told the runner. "Send him some magical candy."

He just wanted to go home and finish his book, thank you. He didn't ask for these powers, but if he took a holiday the world would flip out. People held him in high regard for some reason - he wasn't that wise, or old. He was just a young man trying to do right. Yet somehow the King was demanding his presence.

Comments

[ayoungboy]

"Like I said, when it's mishandled. Guns kill people, are they outlawed?" Merlin sighs, shaking his head. "I'm not here to change your mind. What is it you want?"

[royalpratness]

"You can take away a gun from somebody if they're dangerous but you can't take someone's magic away," Arthur argues, getting up from his chair and pacing his office restlessly. "I need information to make an informed decision. Do you really think magic should be legalised completely?"

[ayoungboy]

"You can't." Merlin leans against the wall, watching Arthur pensively. "But I can."

"Yes, I do. The illegality of it and general attitude towards it create a level of animosity you do not want in your kingdom."

[royalpratness]

Arthur is just about to answer when something occurs to him. "Show me what you can do. With your magic, I mean." He has never really seen magic being used up close.

[ayoungboy]

"What do you mean?" Merlin tilts his head a little. He won't be the man's parlor trick, but if he's genuinely interested... "I am...more powerful than the average warlock. What are you asking for?" Not much was out of his realm of ability.

[royalpratness]

"So I've heard." In fact, the term that had been used to describe Emrys was "most powerful warlock who has ever walked the earth". Arthur shrugs. "Surprise me."

[ayoungboy]

Merlin stares at him for a long second before his eyes flash gold, and things begin to lift themselves into the air. Pencils, papers, the desk and chairs. Nust floating, calmly. Merlin smiles and lets his magic wrap around the King, lifting him lightly off the ground as well.

The day was relatively dismal outside, so with another flash of power, Merlin shifted the clouds, letting the sun through outside.

"Is thay sufficient?"

[royalpratness]

Arthur gives a very unkingly yelp when he feels the air around him changing and finds himself floating a few inches over the floor. "Holy shit!" He waves his arms, trying to maintain his balance.

[ayoungboy]

Merlin hides a laugh, watching Arthur with golden eyes as he lets the King continue to float. "I can do much more than that."

[royalpratness]

"Whatever it is, I don't need a demonstation! Get me back down, right now!" Arthur glares at Merlin who seems to find this all very amusing. "I could have you arrested!"

[ayoungboy]

"You asked for one." Merlin chuckles, shaking his head. "I'd be out of the country before you could speak a word. You don't want to threaten me, sire."

[royalpratness]

"And you would do well remembering that I'm your king. Let. me. down." Arthur grinds his teeth, wishing he could punch that git in the face.

[ayoungboy]

"You're a very rude and very short king." Merlin gently sets him down, though he wishes he could have dropped him on his arse.

[royalpratness]

"Short?!" Arthur huffs, squaring his shoulders and stalking right towards Emrys... who turns out to be a few inches taller. Well fuck. "You're not that impressive yourself"

[ayoungboy]

"I don't need to be." Merlin shrugs a little, slightly amused but politely hiding it. "Alright. Is that all, sire? What else would you like from me?"

[royalpratness]

"Dinner." Arthur blurts out before he can stop himself. He hastily takes a step back, clearing his throat. "I mean, I think we should have a meeting. Over dinner. Obviously, this whole magic business is rather complicated."

[ayoungboy]

Merlin blinks, mind heading in an entirely different direction until Arthur clarified. "...I suppose. When and where?"

[royalpratness]

"How about Saturday? 8pm, here in the palace. I have an excellent cook." For some reason, Arthur feels like he's setting up a date rather than a political meeting.

[ayoungboy]

Merlin considers it for a moment. "...if no crisis has occurred, yes sire. I will attend."

[royalpratness]

"Good." Arthur extends a hand, looking at Merlin. "Until then, I'll consider what you've told me today." He doesn't like to admit it, but with the public voicing their opinion on magic quite clearly and Merlin insisting that magic in itself isn't dangerous, Arthur does have some food for thoughts.

[ayoungboy]

Merlin offers a small, faint smile as he takes Arthur's hand, shaking it firmly. The man was hard-headed, but hopefully Merlin could help change his mind. Though he still wasn't too happy about the interruption. "I'll see you Saturday, then?"

[royalpratness]

Arthur squeezes Merlin's hand briefly and lets it go again. "Saturday." He nods, turning back to his desk. "See you then."

[ayoungboy]

Merlin is gone by the time Arthur looks up. Didn't even need to open the door; teleporting. Only reason he came through the front was courtesy.

[royalpratness]

Arthur blinks in confusion when he turns around again and Merlin has vanished.

He spends the rest of the week, consulting with his various advisors about the issue of legalising magic. After several heated discussion, Arthur is none the wiser. It isn't until Friday evening that a plan start to form in his head. The next day, he's waiting for Merlin in the entrance hall of the palace, wearing his best suit (only because this is an important meeting, of course.)

[ayoungboy]

Merlin arrives precisely on time, blinking into existance in the entrance hall. He looks much the same, except perhaps a little cleaner. "Good evening, sire."