Before you read, this is a fanfiction of a fanfiction I'm reading. That in this fanfiction Merlin is a steampunk puppet with a mind and will of his own, and that Nimueh is using him as a tool to overrun Camelot.

(It's on AO3 called The Clockwork Servant by raven_of_hydecastle.)

Merlin stared.

Nature's noises were clashing together to form something almost chaotic, but very melodic at the same time.

His shoes and neckerchief were off, and so were his top layers.

His gears were visible and moved at a constant and jerky rhythm as he continued to stare at the river.

He'd never needed to drink or eat anything, and his Master often tidied him up every once in a while, but he'd been feeling a want lately, quite frankly it was disconcerting.

The want was to bathe in the river.

He didn't think he were supposed to feel, and it scared him.

He stepped into the marshy cold of the waters.

It wasn't cold to him; He didn't need to generate heat, but the movement of the river felt calming and nice, and so he ventured deeper into the water.

Knee-deep was where he was at now. He was feeling a thrill at the thought of doing something for himself.

Waist-deep, then elbow-deep into the river.

He was smiling.

This was exciting and he never really got to enjoy himself around Nimueh. He liked her goals, but she didn't really care about him as a person.

(Person?)

The sounds of the birds screeching and the pine-needles clashing was a background noise Merlin very much enjoyed.

It was far different than the crowds of Camelot.

The crowds of Camelot made him self conscious.

He wasn't as well coordinated as others and thought he looked very odd with his ears poking out the way they did.

And the thought of the crowd knowing about him also made him very, very scared.

But birds couldn't tell, they could only stare. And they didn't stare. They only saw him for a person, and he found that comforting.