Written for Felicity P's Werewolf Merlin artwork (on AO3 under texasislandr) and for the prompt (paraphrased): A human Merlin comes across a group of hunters threatening a golden wolf. Instinctively Merlin tries to help the wolf, managing to stall the attackers long enough for the rest of the pack to come to the rescue. But his good deed will cost him dearly, as one of the thugs injects Merlin with werewolf venom, telling him if he loves werewolves so much he should join them. As the burning venom consumes him, Merlin feels as if he were dying. He does not expect to wake up in the were-den with a golden Arthur at his side.

Disclaimer: I don't own it, just enjoy it.

It Seemed Like a Good Idea (At the Time)

Chapter 1: Stupid Instincts

When Merlin heard the fierce growling and angry voices down the alley way he was passing, he told himself it would be stupid to get involved even as he sped up to get around the corner and closer to whatever was going on. Despite having magic, and feeling it thrumming beneath the surface of his skin, his control of it was basically nonexistent. Infuriatingly, it always refused to answer his call, never allowing him enough access to be of help to anyone – not even himself. As he raced ahead quietly, Merlin kept reminding himself that it was none of his business, and that one of these days his propensity for helping others was going to get him into some serious trouble. However, when he finally managed to creep up to the source of the noises all thoughts of ignoring the situation flew out of his head.

In the glow of a single bulb behind the empty stores he could see several large and rough-looking men circling around something that he couldn't see but was definitely emitting the growling sounds he could hear. The men were wearing clothing espousing their hatred for werewolves and were pulling guns and knives from pockets, obviously intent on performing their hate crime against the poor wolf they had managed to surround. Merlin tried one desperate pull on his magic to see if it would be of any help, but nothing happened - typical really. He was debating his other options when one of the men shifted and he was finally able to see the wolf they were intent on attacking. He found that he could only blink, dazed at the sight before him. The wolf was beautiful and yet terrifying; sleek golden fur covered one of the largest werewolves Merlin had ever laid eyes on. He was majestic and radiated power, even in his precarious situation. The wolf seemed angry but not afraid. He faced his attackers, watching them all intently, while his back stayed strategically positioned against an empty building.

The only thought Merlin could hold onto was that something so magnificent could not be destroyed.

With no real strategy in place, and no thoughts beyond his instinctive desire to protect the golden wolf, Merlin stepped out from his hiding place. In one swift move, he darted in front of the wolf and faced the angry men. The fact that all of the attackers were beyond surprised at his sudden appearance was most likely the only reason he wasn't shot at immediately. The men all pulled back slightly in shock, looking around to see if anyone else was nearby, and behind him Merlin could even hear the wolf snort in surprise.

Attempting to sound calmer and more confident than he felt, Merlin held up his hand to forestall the mob as he decided to try to reason with them. "I don't know what 's going on here, but brawling in an alley so near to the street is really not the best idea. If I could hear you than others will be able to as well."

The men glanced at each other uneasily, but didn't seem inclined to back down and then one of them stepped forward to face Merlin directly.

"This doesn't concern you kid. Why don't you just move along and mind your own business" he stated in a slimy condescending tone.

Merlin bristled at the name "kid", really this guy may look to be in his 30s and was obviously the leader of the this little gang, but Merlin was not as young as he looked and douchebags like this guys always had the ability to set him off.

"Well maybe I'm making it my concern, pal." Merlin replied in his best cheeky voice, refusing to let this guy bully him.

The leader's eyes narrowed as he glared at Merlin, "We've got business to settle with this creature, and you really don't want to get yourself involved, unless of course you're one of those filthy mutt lovers yourself." He eyed Merlin suspiciously as if he thought he could see the taint of a wolf about him.

Merlin rolled his eyes dramatically, 'filthy mutt lover', really? This guy was clearly a bigot. As Merlin looked over the group again he realized they were bigots with an awful lot of weaponry. Crap.

"You're hunters," Merlin stated. The wolf behind him growled softly again although it sounded derisive and Merlin swore he could almost hear the words "just figured that out, did you? Idiot."

"We eradicate the vermin stalking our streets," the man snarled.

"No, you murder those who are different than you out of fear and prejudice." Merlin retorted, and now he could hear the snarl in his own tone and feel his magic swirling inside him as if it were anxious to be released against this human monster.

"You're one of those damn foolish idealists, huh," the leader snorted contemptuously. "You think we can all live together in peace? That they won't simply overpower us? You want us to live as slaves beneath the weres and magic users that want to rule us? Your idiotic kind is almost as bad as that thing behind you. You betray your own people, maybe you should just join his then if you are so intent on believing their lies over your own kind," the man yelled as he jerked his head in signal to the mob behind him.

Faster than Merlin could track, the gang followed their leader's command and began the attack. Two of the men raced forward to grab Merlin and drag him off to the side so that rest of their group could have an open line of sight to train their guns on the golden wolf again. Merlin flailed and kicked as best he could, struggling against the men holding him. He could hear the low growling of the wolf strengthen into a roar as the men took aim, but before a shot could be fired a nearby howl answered the call of the golden were. Every man in the alley froze for a heartbeat at the new sound.

"Aredian…?" one of the men questioned his leader nervously.

"Shoot him!" Aredian screamed at his men, even as he backed away and peered into the shadows surrounding them.

The men took aim yet again, but the werewolf was faster, it lunged at the man closest to him, wrapping its jaws around his throat before the human could fire. As the others tried to turn their guns fast enough to shoot at the wolf, four more wolves sprang from the shadows. Growling viciously they tore into the knot of men threatening the golden wolf. The sounds of chaos filled the alley; gunshots, swearing, and painful screams from the humans, growling and snarling from the werewolves as their teeth and claws sliced through flesh.

The two men holding Merlin had loosened their grips as they stared in horror at the rapid destruction of their friends. Merlin himself was so transfixed by the grace and power of the attacking wolves (so maybe he was mostly staring at the golden wolf) that it did not even occur to him to try to slip away from his own attackers. It wasn't until his magic gave a frantic lurch within him that Merlin even realized he was still in danger.

"Hold him," a low voice ordered the two men, snapping them out of their daze.

Startled at the angry voice coming from just behind him, Merlin recklessly began thrashing about to try to escape the suddenly tightened grasps of his captors. As he desperately attempted to pull away from them, he had a glimpse of the dark-haired leader smirking at him maliciously. Merlin threw all of his weight at one of the men, hoping to make him stumble, but both of the aresholes outweighed him by several stone.

"I said hold him" Aredian snapped again, glaring at both Merlin and the goons he was fighting.

The men redoubled their efforts and Merlin could feel himself being manhandled to the ground as they punched and shoved him. Over the sound of his own ragged breathing and futile struggles, he could still faintly hear the wolves attacking the gang. He felt as if his own struggle had been going on forever, but if the wolves and humans were still fighting as well then it must have only been moments. One last punch to the stomach had Merlin gasping on the ground as one of the men put a knee on his lower back and wrenched his arms behind him to hold him down. Merlin writhed and twisted frantically, but could not dislodge his heavier opponent.

"Hold his head," Aredian commanded the other attacker and Merlin could feel harsh hands shoving his head against the pavement and holding him still and completely helpless. One of the meaty hands was clasped against his mouth, preventing him from calling out for any kind of help, not that he knew if the wolves would have helped him anyway, but at least they would have wanted to take down Aredian and his thugs.

"You want to defend those filthy mutts so badly, now you can just join them and see if they will have as much mercy for you," Aredian said coldly, and Merlin could see the glint of madness in the older man's eyes as he pulled a long syringe out of a pocket and into Merlin's line of sight. Whatever was in the syringe had Merlin's magic twisting like a whirlwind inside of him. He instinctively tried to shy away from the sharp needle Aredian was moving towards him, but there was nowhere to go, no part of his body he could move from under the restraining hands. In a last desperate endeavor, Merlin attempted to focus his magic and shove against his attackers, but it was too late. Merlin gasped as the needle was jammed into his neck and he could feel a burning liquid being pushed out of the syringe and into his body, leaving a trail of sparking hot pain as it spread. His magic jumped from under his skin ferociously, throwing all three men off of him and into the nearby walls, but the damage was already done.

Merlin's nerves screamed in pain as the liquid crawled through his body, causing him to go into convulsions on the ground. Screams of agony were torn from his throat and hot tears poured from his eyes, but he was lost to it all. He never noticed the three men, the last of the attackers left alive, flee the scene or the five wolves who quickly surrounded him. He thought it was a hallucination when he felt a warm, soft hand placed against his cheek and saw a man's face, haloed in golden light looking at him in concern. But the pain was too much and Merlin succumbed to the blessed blackness of unconsciousness.