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Arthur was distraught, to say the least.
He had known that Merlin had many scars that littered his body, he'd said as much when asked about why he wouldn't swim, but he hadn't expected that one.
All he'd done was walk in on Merlin changing. He was late for a council session and the king knew he'd taken a rather gnarly hit to the knee whilst on patrol the day before, so he'd already been given some leeway. But when an hour passed and he still hadn't shown, Arthur knew he must have been having trouble fighting the drowsy pain remedies Gaius had given him.
So, he made a show of stomping down to Merlin's room and barging through the door.
For old time's sake.
Merlin startled, his second leg halfway through his pant, and cursed as he finished hopping into it. He turned his back, tying the laces on his trousers hastily.
But his chest was bare.
Arthur had only seen it for a moment but the sight caught his eye so immediately that the image was burned into his mind. There, above Merlin's heart, was a brand.
And it was shaped like his crest.
When his shirt was tugged over his shoulders, Merlin turned back around, clumsily fastening his belt about his waist between glancing anxiously up at Arthur through his lashes. "I, uh, slept in."
"What was that?" He hadn't meant to blurt out the question, but it was all his mind could think to say.
"What?"
Arthur shook his head. "You– you're branded, Merlin!"
Merlin gulped, his eyes sliding to the side as he visibly tried to come up with an explanation. "It's not–"
"It is. " Arthur lurched forward and grabbed Merlin's arm harshly. With his other hand, he pulled at his neckline until he could see the pink and white shape of the same dragon that embellished every knight's cape in the kingdom. He stared at it for a long while, then flickered his eyes back up to meet Merlin's.
Merlin was staring back at him, a defiant look planted stubbornly on his face.
"When did you . . ."
Merlin shrugged, tugging his shirt out of Arthur's grasp in the process. He shuffled away, sitting down on his bed to pull his socks on. "We're going to be late."
Arthur ran a hand down his face in frustration. "We're already late. " Merlin was stalling, Arthur had learned enough about his habits since his magic was revealed to read him accurately enough. He knew he wouldn't be able to shake Arthur's question but he'd be damned if he made things easy.
He took a deep breath, giving in gradually. "It happened when you were crowned," he admitted. "I– I actually didn't mean to–"
"What do you mean 'you didn't mean to'?"
Merlin closed his eyes, giving up on his boots as he leaned back slightly and let out a loud sigh. "I visited Kilgharrah shortly after you became king. He told me that it was important that I make it clear to Albion that I was devoted to your reign wholly and undividedly."
"So you branded yourself?"
"No." He looked to the floor as he recalled what had happened. "I went to the lake to declare my alignment with your destiny. It was . . . a ritual of sorts. I didn't really know what I was doing but I could feel the earth's response and the wind guided the words out of my mouth."
"What did you say?"
Merlin met his eyes, and smiled. His eyes were wet with shining tears. "It wasn't in common tongue, but . . . a rough translation would be 'my heart is yours'."
Arthur looked back down to where the scar was hidden beneath his tunic.
" Mín ferhþ sy éower."
A chill ran up Arthur's spine as Merlin spoke in the language of old.
"Then, my chest . . ." Merlin motioned to it with his hand as he recalled the memory. "It just . . . burned for a moment. But it didn't . . . It didn't hurt. Or maybe it did but . . ."
"Is it a curse?" Arthur asked cautiously.
Merlin frowned at him.
"Would it pain you, if you were to go against that brand?"
Understanding now, Merlin's expression relaxed. "Yes." He smiled coyly at Arthur's sickly expression. "But not because of this."
A breath of relief left Arthur, even as he cuffed Merlin about the head in retaliation for the scare.
"It's not a curse, Arthur," Merlin clarified as he stood. He looked deeply into his king's eyes. "It's a promise."
They stopped for a moment, just standing there face to face. The surety in Merlin's gaze was frightening to Arthur. What good had he done to deserve such confidence? But, if he allowed himself to be selfish, he also felt comforted by it.
A smile split his face and he cupped the back of Merlin's head as they broke eye contact. "Come on. They're waiting for us."