Merthur One-shots

The Wisdom Of The Ages

Summary: Saving Arthur while disguised as Dragoon the Great was all well and good until the king decided the old sorcerer deserved a reward. On the run from Arthur, Merlin finds sanctuary in an elderly women's social club. What was supposed to be a one-time visit becomes a regular part of Merlin's week, as he returns each Friday to discuss recipes, commiserate about aches and pains, and lament the state of his love life.

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It began with the pies.

Actually, no, it began with Arthur, who'd managed to get himself in trouble yet again. Of course Merlin could deal with the assassin, but he'd needed a disguise to do it without getting caught.

Magic might have been legal in Camelot for a few years now, but that didn't mean Merlin was ready to have a very uncomfortable conversation with Arthur, one that would lead to discussions about trust and hurt feelings, then very likely end with Merlin being named court sorcerer.

Making the king's bed was by far preferable to being the king's bureaucrat. Besides, Merlin was pretty sure Arthur would have him magicking the bed made if he knew (not that Merlin didn't already do such things when no one was watching) and why on earth would Merlin possibly want a council position added to his regular chores? No. Better (and easier) to keep the magic a secret, even if it did sometimes require Merlin to hobble through the castle corridors as Dragoon the Great.

And that was exactly how it started. Merlin, or rather Dragoon, had saved Arthur, and the king had seen him do it. In Uther’s day it would have led to a call for the guards to apprehend Merlin. Now, in this shining new era of acceptance and reconciliation, Merlin still had to run, or rather totter away, fleeing an entirely different kind of danger.

Impressed with what he’d seen, Arthur was trailing after Dragoon, calling out his thanks along with a job offer.

“You can read this parchment if you’d like,” Arthur panted from behind. “It outlines all the benefits of government service. Court sorcerer is a full council position. At your age, wouldn’t you like something less physically demanding?”

Yes, Merlin thought, yes he would. But not a council position.

Arthur had almost caught up with him (Dragoon's aged joints could only carry him so quickly) when Merlin bumped, quite literally, into an unexpected savior.

“Oi! Watch it. You almost made me drop my… oh, hello.”

Merlin recognized the look of desire on the old woman's face for what it was. He’d seen it reflected back at him in the mirror countless times as he’d helped Arthur dress, not that Arthur ever seemed to notice.

“Are you, um, coming to the meeting? What am I thinking? A handsome figure such as yourself has better things to do. Unless…”

“Is the meeting in a room with a door that closes?”

She nodded.

“And does the king ever attend?”

She shook her head no. “We don’t get many gentleman callers.”

The thundering footfalls behind them made Merlin’s mind up for him. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

The meeting, as the old woman had called it, turned out to be a kind of elderly women’s social club that met in what appeared to have been guest chambers at one point. The bed was missing, as was the wardrobe, but there were chairs arranged close to the hearth. A long table stood next to the wall, laden with numerous covered dishes.