Chapter Text
Arthur was seated gingerly on the edge of Merlin’s bed, looking awkwardly around the small room. By the looks of it, he hadn’t been able to dress himself properly - he was wearing only a simple white nightshirt and a brown pair of breeches.
Merlin, upon seeing this, instantly let out a squawk of surprise and slammed the door shut again. He stayed frozen in the doorway, breath coming in short gasps. He hadn’t planned for this! Arthur - the King - was sat on his bed, and he had absolutely no idea what to do about it.
Could he play dumb? Act like nothing had ever happened, pretend it was just any normal day? Then he shook his head, dispelling the thought. The time was past for that. Could he-
His frantic attempts at improvisation were cut short when Arthur opened the door, regarding him with a small frown. Merlin gasped and froze once more, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.
“Get in here, Merlin.” Arthur ordered, opening the door wider.
Merlin forced himself to not become a stuttering mess, instead letting his back straighten and some of his usual spunk return.
“And why should I do that?” He asked, crossing his arms defiantly in front of his chest. He had already broken one of the foremost laws in Camelot just by existing - what was disobeying the King one more time, next to that?
“Merlin.” Arthur growled again, his eyes narrowing down to slits. Deciding that he had shown enough defiance, Merlin huffed and let himself be shown into the room, hearing the door slam shut behind him. He still refused to turn to face Arthur, though, facing instead towards his small window and trying to maintain his confident air.
In reality, he was trembling with fear on the inside, ready to bolt at the slightest provocation.
“Merlin…” Arthur sighed heavily, then continued. “We need to talk. But you’ve been avoiding me, so here I am.”
“I’ve been avoiding you for good reason!” Merlin said vehemently, whirling around. He saw Arthur open his mouth to speak, and put up a hand to cut him off. “For once in your life, would you just listen to what I have to say?”
The blonde hesitated, eyes flicking uncertainly down to the floor and back up, then nodded slowly.
“I know you saw what happened the other night, so there’s no point in hiding it anymore - I’m a sorcerer. I have magic.” Merlin spread his arms wide, glaring at Arthur as though he was daring him to speak up. He didn’t. “But before you drag me down to the dungeons to cut my head off, or burn me at the stake, or whatever it is you’re going to do, just… well, you should know that I’ve always had magic. I was born with it. I didn’t choose it.” He stared stubbornly at a knot in the wood floor, jaw clenching as he forced away the tears that were pricking at his eyes.
“I didn’t choose… I didn’t want to be born a monster. Before I could even talk, far before I could know what it meant, I was moving things around with just a glance. Stones, sticks, my pillow,” He smiled softly. “My mother’s favourite water jug, pretty much anything I threw a tantrum at. And now I’m here, in Camelot, and I wouldn’t change it for the world… wouldn’t leave you for the world… but I’m risking everything by being here. Just by being born, I’m breaking one of the most important laws here, and so many times I’ve almost been killed just for saving your sorry behind.” Merlin finally looked up, tears clinging to his eyelashes. “I didn’t choose this, Arthur.”
He gazed down at his hands, face contorted with a heart-wrenching muddle of emotions, and swallowed thickly. “I didn’t want… have never wanted… to be like this.
“Merlin, don’t be stupid. I’m not going to have you killed.” Arthur tried to speak as he normally did, but something else made it through - something Merlin couldn’t quite place. “Strange as it is for me, I realize now that not all magic is bad. It’s something that I’ve been struggling with for years now, and you’ve helped me with it. I want to thank you for that.” Merlin gave him a cocky grin to disguise the hope that flared in his eyes - and was then quickly snuffed out by the King’s next words.
“But, be that as it may… I can’t make magic legal in Camelot.”
“What?!” Merlin barked, hot anger boiling up in his stomach, fear and sadness constricting his throat. This was it; he had failed. Albion would never become a reality. Apparently, destinies were such fragile things.
“I’m sorry, Merlin, but now it’s your turn to hear me out.” Arthur said firmly, trying his hardest not to let his helplessness at his friend’s distress enter his voice. Merlin folded his arms, setting his jaw and regarding him with stony eyes. Taking that as a cue to begin, he opened his mouth to speak.
“Like I said, I realize now that not all magic is bad. But that’s not to say that none of it is. Look, Merlin, you can’t deny the number of magical attacks there are on Camelot. This last one killed my father, almost killed me, and it even came from within our family. Morgana, of all people. Magical and non-magical, people are dangerous, and the ban on magic is one of the best ways I have right now of protecting us - of keeping us safe. Is that important to you? Because the safety of my people is the most important thing to me. And, like it or not, I’m going to ensure that however I see fit. I’m the King now, Merlin, so that’s my job. And I intend to do it.”
“Yes, Sire.” Merlin bit back an angry tirade of protests and stared longingly at his bed, chewing his lip. There was a grain of sense to what he was saying, though he could find quite a lot of problems with it. And he didn’t feel like arguing; he was exhausted as it was, and self-centered clotpole as Arthur was, he would only make it worse.
Arthur searched the servant’s face for a moment, knowing that he was holding something back. It pained him to see the younger man so defeated, since his rebellious spark had been part of what drew them together in the first place, but he decided that now was not the time to push it.
And anyways, there was one more thing that Arthur wanted to discuss - the kiss.
Merlin stepped forward and flopped tiredly onto his mattress, his face mashed uncomfortably against his pillow, but unable to muster the will to move it. He felt the bed dip as Arthur sat down by his legs, and grunted.
“Was there something else you wanted to say?” He muttered, his speech slurred by his still-smushed face.
“Yes, actually. I… the other night. The, ah… the- our kiss. We kissed.” Arthur’s cheeks began to heat up, and he fought not to let it show.
“Ah.” Merlin deemed this worthy of movement, and finally dragged himself over to lay on his back. “Stellar observation, my lord, really.” He was going to continue, possibly something about getting Arthur on a research team of sorts, but Arthur shot him a look that cut off his sarcastic rambling.
“Merlin. For once in your miserable life, do shut up.” (Arthur defaulted to insults and orders whenever he was anxious, or sad, or- well, pretty much feeling any emotion at all.)
“Yes, sire.” Even exhausted, Merlin could still muster impressively annoying levels of sass.
“The golden sparks that appeared. That was you, right? What… what was that?” Arthur decided to ignore his servant’s continued snarkiness.
“Oh, that. Um… well, it kind of just happens, you know, whenever I feel strong emotions.” Merlin blushed. “I can’t really help it, it just sort of… wells up and spills over at the edges, I guess. It’s only ever positive emotions - I’m not fully sure what would happen with a negative one.”
What he didn’t say was that he had an idea, and wasn’t too keen on finding out whether it was correct.
“And if you were to feel those strong emotions, could you do it again?” Arthur glanced over at Merlin through half-lidded eyes, his tongue flicking out quickly to wet his lips.
“I… yeah, I guess so. Why?” Merlin didn’t have time to wonder however, as Arthur leaned down and gently cupped the back of his neck, pulling him into a kiss.
It started out soft and slow and tender, with a hint of uncertainty. Then Merlin pushed himself up onto his elbows, never breaking the kiss, and pulled Arthur closer with his teeth around his bottom lip. Arthur groaned at the sudden flash of pain, and the warlock took the opportunity to deftly slip his tongue into the other man’s mouth.
Arthur nearly groaned again as he felt Merlin’s lips and tongue sliding against his, working at him with an experience that he didn’t want to think too much about. Then he decided that the servant had been in control long enough, and began attacking Merlin’s mouth with a renewed fervor.
He moved his hand from the servant’s neck to his soft dark hair, closing his fingers around it and pulling slightly, then eagerly swallowing all of the small whimpers and mewls of pleasure that Merlin let slip. Finally, reluctantly, he pulled away, both of them gasping for air through red and swollen lips. Their eyes met, two startling shades of blue competing for dominance, and a spark of understanding passed through the gaze that both were determined to hold longer than the other.
“So?” Arthur said, still not looking away.
In place of an answer, Merlin let a shimmering golden glow creep into his eyes, still locked onto the other’s. A sparkling mirage of a miniature dragon appeared, soaring effortlessly around them and breathing small spurts of fire, until it came to rest on Arthur’s nose. Arthur jumped back and shook his head, startled - and was the first to break eye contact. Merlin, ever the epitome of a subtle and mature adult, stuck his tongue out.