Chapter Text
When he’d finally broached the subject of Merlin’s magic the night before Arthur had thought that he’d had ample amounts of time to work through the anger and betrayal he’d felt towards Merlin since learning of his magic in the woods a week ago. In truth he’d only waited so long to discuss these things further with his servant because he wanted to be sure that he could do so calmly and fairly, without causing Merlin to fear once more that Arthur wanted him dead.
For the most part what Merlin had told him had only cause him to feel humbled and a little bit in awe of the man before him. He wondered at Merlin’s resiliency and his ability to face death and immense threats without showing any signs of his struggles to those who knew him best.
Merlin had killed for Arthur, watched friends die needlessly, and yet the boy was still cheerful and unassuming. Arthur could remember the first time he’d killed anyone and how it had taken a few days for him to really start feeling normal again afterward. The prince found himself wishing that he’d known of Merlin’s struggles at the time if only so that he could have comforted the other man and supported him in the aftermath. But Merlin had had Gauis for that, at least.
This was a fact that Arthur had gleaned on his own from Merlin’s stories. Although Merlin had not outright admitted whether or not the physician knew or supported Merlin’s magic it was clear that the man had to have known and was probably quite helpful in Merlin’s endeavors. As Arthur lay in bed after talking with Merlin through the night he thought that he might need to talk to Gauis about some things later as well.
Arthur’s suspicions were confirmed that morning when Merlin began his story about Balinor. If Gauis knew so much of the Dragonlord’s past then he clearly knew of Merlin’s as well. Arthur hadn’t a clue what Merlin was getting at what when the first thing he had mentioned that morning was Balinor the Dragonlord, but once he mentioned the man’s stay in his village, Ealdor, Arthur’s mind began to race as he started to put the pieces together. He knew that Merlin had grown up in Ealdor without ever knowing who his father was, and he remembered how much the man’s death had affected his manservant.
“He didn’t leave her alone, did he?” he asked, unintentionally voicing his own conclusions to Merlin’s story aloud.
Merlin’s reaction was as much of a confession as the one he voiced moments later. Once more Arthur was forced to reevaluate his opinion of the slight boy in front of him. But even this new revelation was not enough to make Arthur angry. Rather he found himself deeply sad once more, knowing that Merlin had suffered greatly, had watched his father die in his arms and had been unable to truly express his grieve or mourn his passing properly. Another sacrifice Merlin had made for Arthur.
It wasn’t until Merlin’s confession that the great dragon was still alive that Arthur grew truly angry. He wasn’t angry about the lies. He was used to those by now. He was angry because the dragon had killed his people and threatened his city, and he thought that he’d defeated that threat. In every other story Merlin had told him, every other lie he’d revealed, Merlin had always managed to defend Arthur and Camelot, but not this time. This time Merlin had allowed a magical enemy of Camelot to live and to escape.
Merlin knew the dragon by name, called him kin. If the dragon returned, would Merlin side with it once more? Merlin insisted that the dragon would obey his commands, but how did he know for sure? Arthur had maintained his trust in Merlin till now despite all the lies and yet somehow this one little detail was enough to make Arthur question where Merlin’s loyalty truly lay.
Arthur had been pacing as he considered these things but needed to be close to Merlin when he confronted him on this, close enough to see the truth of his words in his eyes. He approached his servant quickly, trapping him in his seat so he couldn’t escape Arthur’s question. While he didn’t want to frighten Merlin the way he had a week ago, he did intend to make the boy uncomfortable, hoping to offset him enough that whatever reactions Merlin displayed would be honest ones.
He’d never once questioned Merlin’s loyalty before but he did so now, solemnly but without anger or any hint of threat, and Merlin never once looked away from him. Arthur felt a shiver of energy run over him as Merlin spoke and he knew somehow that what Merlin said was true. There was a strange quality to his words as he swore death to Arthur’s enemies.
When Merlin placed his own hands over Arthur’s and leaned in close to speak of destiny and the future Arthur felt something deep in his chest that he had never felt before. It was as if something inside of him had been slightly off, somehow wrong up till now, and Merlin made it right. The intensity of the deep blue of his servant’s eyes became too much and he had to look away. As his gaze fell he found himself drawn to Merlin’s lips and overwhelmed with a need to seal their moment in a deeper way and he almost moved the scant inches needed to meet Merlin’s lips with his before he caught himself and moved away.
He said the only thing he could think to say then.
“I believe you, Merlin. I think it is abundantly clear that in all your dealings since coming to Camelot your actions have spoken louder than your words.”
He could see that Merlin was nodding but wasn’t quite ready to meet his servant’s gaze once more.
“Now, what is this destiny you mentioned?”