Merlin Headcanons

Books and Bunkers

A/N: Set in a futuristic, post apocalyptic bunker. Return fic.

. . . . .

The latest monster vanquished, Arthur had nothing better to do than examine Merlin's library. He'd never had the chance before. He was unsurprised to see it was extensive. The man's had centuries to build it up after all.

There were books of magic, as he'd expected. Science and medicine like Gaius had owned. Exactly like Gaius had owned in a few cases. There were a few books on cryptozoology. Arthur flipped through one. Merlin had scribbled notes in the margins, full of theories, corrections, and occasional confirmations or skeptical comments. Arthur snorted at some of them. At least the bunker wasn't short on entertainment.

Merlin'd written some books himself. Some had been written under pseudonyms; others had never been published. He hesitated over one marked 1650-1655 before withdrawing his hand. Merlin deserved some privacy.

. . . And considering the state the guy had been in when they'd returned, he wasn't sure he wanted to know what had been going on in his friend's head. He had a sneaking suspicion it would make him fell guilty. Which was ridiculous. It wasn't his fault he had died.

Of course, a great many other things had been his fault. Like the fact Merlin's chest had more scar tissue than unblemished skin. A lot more.

He continued his study of the shelves. Conspiracy theories, guides to modern conveniences that had ceased to exist -

And Arthurian legend. A whole room of it. His breath caught. Anthologies, parodies, poetry, historical studies . . .

He grabbed books off the shelves at random and flipped through them.

Red. Red ink everywhere. Whole sections had been crossed out. Somewhere along the way Merlin gave up on corrections and just started heckling the bigger mistakes.

One of the books painted Arthur as the villain of the legend. Scorch marks like fingerprints scarred the pages. It was barely held together by a few threads of duct tape.

One passage, however, was underlined.

"Oh, don't blame Arthur," Morgana said. "I don't. He's stupid, true, but he's not actually wicked."

Arthur chuckled. Of course Merlin would - He froze.

"Who do you blame?"

"His shadow. Merlin. There isn't water enough in the world to wash the blood from his hands. If you knew what he had done to me, you would go mad."

Arthur lowered the blood slowly. He picked up another one, desperate for evidence it had only been a phase.

"I wrote that one."

Arthur jumped. Merlin nodded to the book in his hands. "It's as true an account of our adventures as I could write. The editor made me cut out some bits. She said it was too implausible. The word my beta used was 'ridiculous'. Apparently you should have had brain damage from all the times you got knocked on the head."

"Maybe I did."

Merlin's lips twitched. He picked up a parody. "I wrote this one too. I thought it would help. To make fun. Some of our stunts were pretty close to it anyways. The goblin. The troll. The 1500th time you didn't see anything strange in a falling tree branch . . . "

"The mightiest warlock to ever live tripping over his own feet . . . "

He grinned. Briefly. Then he looked down. "I had to cut the death scenes. There wasn't anything funny about them."

"No," Arthur said quietly. "I guess not."

"Those were my favorites." He nodded to a corner.

"What are they?" He moved over to take a look.

"Fringe theorists mostly. A few fantasies. I wrote a couple."

He scanned the titles.

Every single one dealt with his return.

"Guess I don't need them anymore."

"Guess not." He glanced over a few more. "Zombie apocalypses? Really, Merlin?"

"Says the man who fought two undead armies."

" . . . Fair enough."

"Merlin!" Gwaine yelled, sounding panicky.

As one, they ran from the room. Gwen was standing by a mirror and a shattered glass. Gwaine stood frozen behind her.

"What's wrong?" Arthur demanded. Merlin was already muttering spells to check his wards.

"I - I - "

"I was teasing her. Went a little too far and BANG! The glass blows up."

"My eyes were gold. Why were my eyes gold?"

Merlin relaxed. "Magic."

"Gwen has magic in this life?"

"Doesn't work like that. She's always had it. She's only just now expressing it."

"You don't sound surprised. Gwen sounds surprised. Why aren't you surprised?"

A book flew off a shelf towards him. "Ever hear of mandrake roots?"

"Merlin, this is 600 pages long at least."

"712. Better get to reading, sire!"

"Merlin!"

He ducked around a corner, a true grin glowing. "I'll get you a book of beginner's spells, Gwen. You'll be killing griffins in no time!"

Gwaine looked thoughtful. "Hey Gwen, if there's a spell to turn hair pink - "

"No."

"Not even on the princess?"

"No!"

Gwaine pouted.

. . . . .

A/N: Gwen has magic because cutting it off earlier felt abrupt and because my sister really wanted a longer story about Gwen having magic. For those of you who have wanted expansions on other of my stories and are wondering why your requests have not been similarly granted, I will say only that you don't where I live. She does. And she's very, very good at looking pitiful in order to get a story written.