Work Text:
cover art for the story by ueberdemnebelmeer
Strong, warm hands wrap around his forearms and tug him upwards. Merlin is adrift and weak.
Idiot, he hears. What did I ever do to deserve you?
His eyes stay shut because he suspects the salt might sting.
Look at me, Merlin.
So Merlin opens his eyes to see his beautiful prince lifting him towards the surface of the ocean, in full regalia, the King, the Prince, the valiant Knight. Merlin kicks out, fights to die. Arthur, you’re dead, he says, a whirl of bubbles muffling his words but he thinks, from Arthur’s half-sad half-smile, that Arthur understood anyway.
Where are we going? Merlin asks.
Back.
And just before they break the surface, Arthur twines himself around Merlin lovingly, gazes into his eyes with the utmost adoration and regret—why hasn’t Merlin drowned yet—and swears solemnly,
I’ll be better, my Merlin. I’m so sorry.
And he lets go and Merlin breathes in and in until he vomits saltwater out. There are strong, cold arms tight around his middle, lifting him into an HMCG boat, saving his life. Coastguard officers towel him dry, look him in the eye without an apology. He listens to their chiding, complies with their procedures.
Merlin watches the coastline draw near—
“Merlin,” he hears.
“You know him?” an officer asks.
“He’s my little brother,” Merlin hears. “He was trying to save me.”
And then he’s in familiar arms.
“I’ll never leave you again, my sorcerer.”
Merlin reckons it’s permission to start weeping into Arthur’s chest.