Work Text:
Arthur was covered in hearts. That’s the price you paid when being king, and a decent enough king that most of the kingdom loved you. They were mostly on his back, covering the entire expanse of skin with small little markings that symbolize a system of twenty-five people that love him per heart. He was covered in hearts.
Some scattered onto his arms and the back of his neck; a few had floated onto his chest, some the upper of his legs, but mostly they covered his torso. A shifting, large canvas of hearts that showed how loved he was in Camelot. While a heavy expectation to keep, he saw it mostly as encouragement.
Morgana had almost just as many, being a beloved member of the court, and the eye of many in the land. Hers, unlike Arthur’s, had arranged themselves fashionably, riding up her arms in swirls and curling down her neck and back like necklaces, permanently inked on her skin.
Arthur liked to show his off with pride some days, choosing to spar with his knights without shirts, like young adolescents that just want to tumble rowdily. They were also covered in hearts, marks of appreciation and gratitude from the people they protect. Much like their capes of red, they wore their marks with pride.
When Arthur picked up Merlin, he didn’t particularly care how many hearts he had, because when it came to the commoners of the land, they all had a relatively average amount. Loved by their family, loved by their friends. Merlin’s hearts probably didn’t need to start breaking up into twenty-five per heart systems, so it was no surprise that compared to Arthur, his manservant’s arms were bare, his neck empty, and in fact covered by that ridiculous kerchief.
So when he accidentally walked into Gaius’ chambers when Merlin was shirtless and saw three little hearts printed just over his right shoulder bone, he blinked in surprise for only a second before carrying on with what he came to do. It wasn’t until later in his own room after Merlin had retired that he laid in bed, staring up at his curtains, mind hard at work.
That must’ve been impossible, only having three hearts. Surely there must’ve been more elsewhere, since Arthur didn’t get a peek at his chest.
Merlin had three people who truly, irrevocably loved him. To Arthur, it sounded weird. It felt wrong. As sleep threatened to overcome him, he was left with the nagging thought of ‘Come now, that’s a joke. Who doesn’t love Merlin?’
~@~
“How’s your mother?” Arthur asked suddenly, as Merlin was puttering around his room, cleaning here and there while also tossing spells behind his back to get things done efficiently. Ever since the ban had been lifted, Merlin had taken to using his magic like there was no tomorrow, yet insisted on keeping his manservant roles when Arthur coined him court sorcerer. Since then, he had seen Merlin shirtless quite a number of times, and there were still only three little hearts. It was maddening, the way they stood silent on Merlin’s back, unlike the way Arthur’s own collection would shift and pulse whenever new denizens of his land came to life and proclaimed their oath to their king.
A little startled at the sudden question, Merlin paused his sorting and straightened up, turning to Arthur with a raised brow that he must’ve picked up from Gaius over the years. “She’s fine,” he said with a shrug. “Her little shop’s been doing well here. Why?”
“I was just wondering,” Arthur shrugged, seeing Merlin’s eyes narrow in suspicion, since Arthur never simply ‘wondered’ and they both knew that. “And Gaius?”
“Also fine,” Merlin said with brows now completely pinched in confusion. He set down the clothes and turned to face Arthur fully, arms crossed. “Why’re you so curious?”
“Is it a crime to inquire about the wellbeing of your family?” Arthur said.
“No, but it is when you are,” Merlin retorted, walking over to the table and leaning against it. “And you see Gaius almost every day so there’s no point in inquiring about his wellbeing when he breaks tooth and nail making sure you don’t screw over yours.”
Nonplussed, Arthur glared at him. “Shut up, I’m just- “
“-Trying to be nice?” Merlin finished for him, a teasing look in his eyes that Arthur immediately quieted at, feeling heat prickle at his neck. “It’s appreciated then, Arthur, even if you weren’t actually trying to be at all,” he snorted, straightening up and returning to his work. “My mother is doing fine, thank you for asking.”
“You are really making this ‘courteous’ thing very impossible to do, you know.”
“And you are horrible at making conversation casually when bringing something like that out of the blue.” The last of the shirts were folded and spirited away into the closet as Merlin turned around and dropped onto a chair by the window, slouching a bit. “What’s up, your royal pratness?”
Arthur sighed, too tired to argue. Sometimes just speaking to Merlin was a battle on its own, and it took every part of his will not to crave and storm out of the room because the other’s wit and sarcasm was too much. “I simply was just curious. I remember long ago when you mentioned you didn’t have much family and your mother and Gaius were practically the only ones.”
At that, Merlin slowly nodded. “Yeah, Gaius is my kind-of uncle anyway. I guess Will was like a brother but,” he shrugged, and Arthur tried not to think back on that day. “Those two were the only ones I had when it came to my magic.”
“Did you have anyone else?” Arthur asked, thinking about that last, third heart. Deceased people didn’t count and they didn’t appear on peoples’ body, which meant that while he was positive Will loved Merlin and vice versa, Will’s heart would not appear on him. So, who was the third? “Anyone else that knew?”
Merlin shrugged. “Not in Ealdor, really. Here, I mean, Lancelot- “
“Lancelot?” Arthur choked, startling abruptly and staring at the other who simply looked at him warily and didn’t even bother to get up to check that he was alright, damn Merlin. “You confided in Lancelot?”
“I didn’t confide in him, idiot, he just found out,” Merlin said with a frown. “And since he wasn’t going to burn me at the stake, it wasn’t that big of a deal – Arthur why do you care so much? All of this was years ago, I’m not really too bothered about magic nowadays, if that’s what you’re worried over.”
“No, I just-“ Arthur tried to say, before stopping. He didn’t know how to respond. For all the years he’d known Merlin, and for all the recent years that they’d discovered the extent of Merlin’s magic together, he hadn’t really asked much about his past. He was curious, damnit. And curious about that third heart.
Merlin stood, shaking his head and walking over to where Arthur sat. He cleared off the empty plate of snacks and headed towards the door. “Not many people knew, if you were wondering. Only essential people, really.”
Arthur watched him leave. “And did they- did they care?” What kind of question is that?
The same idea must’ve been on Merlin’s mind because he stared at his king as if Arthur had just gotten hit over the head numerous times with the washbin that sat in the corner. “I mean,” he shuffled by the door, now looking a little uncomfortable. “No. Which is what was nice. Well, anyway, go take a nap or something, Arthur. You’re being a bit odd,” he said in that normal, playful tone of his but in his eyes were curiosity and concern.
As the door closed behind him, Arthur rubbed the bridge of his nose. That was obviously not the way to go about it, then.
~@~
“Something on your mind, Sire?”
A sudden voice startled Arthur from his reverie as he turned to look at Percival who dropped to a seat next to him on the bench, face flush from exertion. They were doing morning training and Arthur had chosen to sit back and watch his men fight without him.
Percival’s upper arms were ringed in hearts, and Arthur knew that he had more on his back. Coming from a very large family and having a very large kingdom, Percival had quite the number.
“What?” He said, sounding probably like an incompetent bystander than a king.
Like a proper knight, the man didn’t laugh or even break face. “You look like you’ve got a situation on your hands and, nothing against your skill Sire, but you also seemed a little distant in training.” He took a swig from his water flask. “Is there something we can help you with?”
Arthur turned away, frowning as he realized his absentmindedness was so apparent. “It’s not an issue,” he said, although Percival glanced at him and Arthur knew he was going unbelieved.
“Is Morgana alright?”
“Yes, she’s fine as always, pestering me to keep giving her land when I already told her the whole northern area is hers.”
Percival smiled slightly. “Then…Merlin?”
Arthur froze before turning and squinting his eyes at Percival suspiciously. “Why is he your second automatic guess after Morgana?” He was the King of Camelot, surely his top two defining things were not Morgana and Merlin.
By the look of Percival’s open, honest expression, it seemed like it was. “I…well, I figured he would be the next person you’d be worried about, if not the first.” He coughed, knowing that he was blundering into personal areas with the king. “I mean to say, Sire, that at least from my perspective, if Merlin or Morgana were to ever be in some sort of problem- “
“The whole kingdom would be put on hold so that we could fix it,” came another voice and Arthur looked up to see Gwaine and Lancelot coming towards them, bodies heaving with laboured breaths. Gwaine was grinning teasingly while Lancelot was wiping his brow. “What’d Merlin do this time to twist your pants, Sire?”
“He’s done nothing,” Arthur insisted, sitting up when the other knights dropped onto the bench with him, swiping the flask from Percival who gave it up, wordlessly. “I never even said I had a problem!”
“Your face is a total, utter lie,” Gwaine said and the aborted half snort-chuckle from Lancelot simply affirmed that he must’ve looked constipated, brooding about Merlin’s stupid third heart.
Sighing, Arthur rubbed his face and decided that if anyone, he could trust his knights. Could he trust them to keep it from Merlin? Maybe, but since asking the source didn’t seem to work, this was his next best bet. “I’m just curious about his hearts.”
“His hearts or his heart because if you ask me, Sire, they’re practically ghh-Lance!” Gwaine was cut off by a swift smack in the stomach by the other knight who simply shot him a glare.
“What about his hearts, Arthur?” Lancelot asked curiously.
“Not his heart,” Arthur said, shooting a look at Gwaine who was rubbing at his tender abdomen. “His hearts. Unlike ours, commoners have less on average.” The three knights nodded in agreement. It was simply a fact. “And…well, you tell me men, how many people do you think love Merlin?”
While it was a weird question to ask, there was no way around it.
Gwaine then sighed, shrugging. “Truthfully, a lot? I always tell Merlin I love him,” he said, and Arthur had to squash down the thoughts of Gwaine being that third heart over literally anyone else. Hearts were sacred, which is what made each little mark on him and his knights’ bodies so special. Their people loved them unconditionally. Of all people, could it be Gwaine?
“You think so?” He said in response to Gwaine’s words. “As court sorcerer and being who he is, I wouldn’t be shocked if he’d have quite a lot of admirers.”
“His mother and Gaius for sure,” Percival added. “I’m sure Gwen? Since they’re so close they’re practically like brother and sister.”
Arthur nodded slowly. That was a possibility. “So there’s at least three options.”
Lancelot peered at his King curiously. “Why? Do you know how many he has?”
Nodding, he spoke. “Three. Just…just three.”
There was a moment of silence as they all digested that, and while they were used to people unlike them having far less hearts, having only three was nearly unheard of.
“That can’t be true,” Lancelot ended up saying quite adamantly. “I love Merlin as a brother as well but if he’s only got three, then where’s mine?” He said, and Arthur fought the amused smile that threatened to breach his face at the petulance behind the knight’s words.
“Maybe you really don’t love him,” Gwaine teased, to which he received another smack on the arm. “Well, I dunno Sire, but I don’t believe it. Merlin’s well-loved by the whole damn kingdom so maybe your eyes are playing tricks. Or maybe he’s hiding them, what with having magic and everything. Did you ever ask him?”
“No,” Arthur said simply, and he supposed that therein lie the issue.
Taking his knight’s somewhat-advice, he decided to hit the nail bluntly on the head. That night, as Merlin continued his self-chosen duties of cleaning out Arthur’s fireplace and relighting it, Arthur stared at the back of his head for a few, long minutes before he spoke.
“Why do you only have three hearts?”
The log in Merlin’s hand clattered to stone time as the warlock turned to look at him, surprise etched on his face. “What?” He asked with such an intense stare that Arthur felt uncomfortable with this battle of gazes.
“Your hearts. On your back. You’ve only got three. Err, well, I mean I suppose it’s okay that there’s only that many, I was just wondering- “
“I don’t,” Merlin said, cutting him off and rising to his feet. “Have three, I mean. I don’t only have those.”
Arthur frowned, eyes flicking to the bare parts of Merlin which only really included his hands, neck and face. There were no hearts apparent. “I’ve seen you somewhat bare often enough to have only seen the three on your shoulder blade. Where are the rest?”
At the question, Merlin’s eyes flickered away from his and the same, uncomfortable air filled the room. But Arthur stood strong, gazing at him curiously, ignoring the feeling that Merlin didn’t really want to share. He was curious, and by all means he’d find out the answer to the question that had been pestering him for the past several weeks.
“This’ll be a bit demoralizing…” Merlin muttered as he took one look at Arthur’s expectant gaze and ungracefully tugged the kerchief from his neck and tossed it onto the table. He then wrestled the tunic over his head and Arthur blinked, expecting an explanation and not a display of…well, whatever this was.
Merlin continued to strip and even went so far as to pushing down his trousers a little deeper on his hips, causing Arthur to choke quietly when they went so low as to showing off the coarse, dark hairs protruding from his navel. He stared, trying not to seem as if Merlin’s awkward, bumbling, failure of an excuse to strip was as eye-captivating as it actually was.
“What are you-“ He started only to pause when Merlin turned around to show off his back, lifting his arms from his sides to show off his completely bare upper torso. On his shoulder blade were those three, infuriating little hearts.
“Fielhem mercuth, madter nighem.” Merlin said, and Arthur shot up straight in his chair as colour – colour – began to bloom.
Hearts appeared all over Merlin’s body, gradually growing to life. A bit like Arthur’s, they were scattered aimlessly, and a bit like Arthur’s there were quite a few. Completely unlike Arthur’s, there were an alarming amount. Hearts popped up dotting all of Merlin’s back until it was completely covered, and the three on his shoulder blade blended in with the crowds. They overflowed onto his neck, stopping just shy of his face, and spilled onto his arms, stretching all the way to his wrists. They went so low as to falling under the waistline of his pants and that’s probably why he had shown off as much skin as he did – to shove Arthur the extent of how many hearts he actually had.
But what was completely boggling Arthur out of his mind was the fact that every single heart was coloured. Unlike the black hearts that filled the bodies of everyone in the realm, Merlin was covered in massive rainbow, shades filling in each heart until it looked like children had taken to his body with affection. He searched and found the three original hearts. Blue, yellow, and red.
“What…” He gaped. Merlin had more bloody hearts than he had.
“I told you,” Merlin said peeking over his shoulder as if he could read Arthur’s mind. Then he turned around and the same overflow of colourful hearts reached his chest. “It’d be a little obnoxious if I walked around like this, so I normally hide them.”
“How are they…” Arthur had the strongest urge to reach out and touch, but he held himself back by squeezing the arms of his chair tightly.
“Coloured?” Merlin glanced down at his body, dropping his arms so that he could poke at a few. “That’s also magic. I do it because I’m,” he flushed a little, “curious. About who’s who.”
“What do you mean?” Arthur asked, and this time he couldn’t help but stand up and take a few subconscious steps forward. Luckily, Merlin didn’t notice and simply shrugged.
“I break it up into population, mostly.” He tapped at a light green heart. “The green ones are druids and the orange ones are some dragons.” He pointed at hazel ones that seemed to be in league for most-hearts. “These are the people of Camelot and ever since I became court sorcerer they fluctuate in numbers,” he said with an amused smile. “Magic is still a hit-or-miss with many.”
Arthur eyed them, follow the haphazard trails around his chest, under his arms, and skimming his waist. “The purple?”
“People outside of Camelot.”
“You know people outside of Camelot?”
“Arthur I’m from outside of Camelot.”
Swallowing back admitting to his stupidity, he nodded. So, people from little towns like Ealdor then, perhaps. “And the grey?”
“Other people that work in the castle and the knights.”
There was a hefty number of grey ones and Arthur nodded to himself. It made sense, with how kind Merlin usually was to the other castle staff and the way people like Gwaine and Lancelot spoke about loving him as well.
Merlin let him gaze at his body for a bit longer, doing quite well not being squeamish under Arthur’s hungry gaze. There were so many of them, and the colours only exacerbated their effect on the eyes and attention. Merlin was like a walking rainbow and every minute or so, another heart would pop up or one would fade. The shifting, multi-coloured canvas of his skin was so mesmerizing to watch that when Merlin spoke, Arthur didn’t even hear him until he heard the annoyed ‘Arthur’ coming from the sorcerer’s mouth.
“What?” He asked, eyes flicking up to Merlin’s curious ones.
“I asked why you were so curious.” He said, mouth twitching in a smile. He had crossed his arms over his chest and though that did nothing to hide how many he had, Arthur still internally grieved at the disappearance of the hearts.
He had to force himself to recall what he was even asking about. “The three on your shoulder blade. If you can cover all of these up, why do you choose to show off three? And what do their colours mean?”
Merlin muttered a word in a language he didn’t know, and the hearts began their slow fade into nonexistence. He watched, enraptured, as the colours first faded then the hearts themselves, slowly clearing Merlin’s skin until it appeared like nothing was ever on it in the first place.
“To make sure it doesn’t look like I’m hated by the entire world,” he grinned, reaching towards the table past Arthur to grab his tunic and kerchief. Arthur’s eyes followed him and he saw the three hearts on his shoulder blade once more, black, like the rest of theirs.
“Why three?”
“They’re the three that matter.”
“Who do they belong to?”
At the question, Merlin hesitated for a millisecond while shrugging on his shirt before popping his head through the whole and giving Arthur a half-glance as he began putting on his kerchief. “Dunno,” he said casually. “I’m assuming one’s my mother and another’s Gaius, at least. Blue and yellow are kind of their colours so I figured as much.”
That made sense. “So what about the red one?” At that question, Merlin completely froze. After a second, he slowly finished the kerchief around his neck. “Dunno,” he repeated, but this time he didn’t look Arthur in the eyes. “It’s the only red one I have so I figured…something important, yeah?” Finally, he looked at his King, flashing him an all-too big smile.
“I suppose that makes sense,” Arthur hummed in thought, unhearing the soft snort from his manservant. “Well, Merlin, at least you’re absolutely covered in the damn things and weren’t the unloved, neglected man I thought you were,” Arthur announced, patting the other on the shoulder.
Merlin rolled his eyes, swatting off his hand and turning back to the fireplace. “Thank you for the support, Sire, it’s good to know that at least the King cares whether or not I’m being emotionally cared for,” he said sarcastically.
“It’d be nice to know who the hearts are from,” Arthur said absently as he went towards his cabinet to find his bedclothes. “For someone without so many, I feel like you could pick out who actually cares, you know? But for us they all kind of blend together.”
“True,” Merlin replied just as distantly from his spot by the fireplace.
“It’d be convenient to find out who that red heart is at least,” he said, starting to change. From the fireplace, Merlin didn’t deign to answer and when Arthur looked over, he saw his manservant gazing lost in thought at the small, growing flames.
The next day had his knights invading the privacy of Arthur’s rooms and for once, it was not for audience with him.
“I knew it!” Gwaine hooted as he circled Merlin, eyes wide in wonder as he took in the many hearts. “I knew you had a shite ton!”
“I said that,” Lancelot mumbled, but was just as captivated as Gwaine was, staring at Merlin who was standing in front of them with a slightly awkward smile, his arms shoved in his pants pockets. “Who would’ve thought you’d accumulate this many, Merlin, though it’s not surprising at all what with all the things you do for the realm.”
The warlock shrugged, reaching up to scratch at his head. Arthur was leaning by his desk, thoroughly entertained by the discomfort the other man was going through. Ever since he had told the other knights of his findings, they demanded their wish to see it as well and Merlin complied, seemingly happy at the attention, despite awkward at the stares.
“Yeah, well, when it got to the point that more kept popping up, I had to figure out how to conceal them before someone in the lower towns started wondering why Arthur’s lowly manservant had twice as many hearts than he did as crown prince.”
“No need to show off your fame, Merlin,” Arthur said pointedly.
“Just telling the truth, Sire,” Merlin quipped back with a teasing grin.
The knights laughed at that and finally Gwaine stepped back, allowing Merlin to visibly breathe in relief now that he was not under scrutiny. “They’re just hearts like yours,” he reasoned.
“Yeah, but yours are far more interesting to look at,” Lancelot said honestly, and Merlin smiled in thanks.
“Do I have a heart? I better have a heart,” Gwaine said, eyes roving Merlin’s chest, probably picking out all the grey ones and wondering which was his.
“You do,” Merlin said confidently before coughing and following with a quick “I mean, I’m sure you do. You’re like a brother to me.” The back of his neck prickled red even under the hearts and where Arthur was standing behind him, he could see the flush rise. He watched the colour appear curiously. “It’s, um, probably this one,” Merlin said casually, pointing at a grey heart on the far right of his stomach.
“Brilliant,” Gwaine crowed. “I knew I had one on there. I’m sure you’re one of mine as well, Merlin.”
Giving him a smile, Merlin looked at Lancelot. “Yours is probably this one,” he said, pointing at one on his upper arm, closer to his shoulder. Very specific, Arthur thought.
Lancelot chuckled and nodded. “Thank you, Merlin. Like Gwaine says, I’m sure you have a spot amongst my many as well.”
“How about Arthur’s?” Gwaine suddenly asked, and from behind him, Arthur could see the red flush brighten again as the muscles in his back suddenly tensed. Arthur himself felt a little awkward and he shuffled by his desk. What, did he love Merlin? Well, they were close, for sure, and some days he’d seem like his best friend, some days they’d feel as close as brothers, others even more so.
He’d never thought of owning one of Merlin’s hearts but now that the question was said, he couldn’t help but wonder. Did he love Merlin enough to earn him one on that colourful array of hearts?
Hell, first he had to confront the idea of did he love Merlin at all.
Merlin shrugged, barely sparing a glance at the king behind him. “Maybe. Dunno,” said, in that same tone of voice he used the other night. “Perhaps if he did, it’d show up rosy pink. Or a vomit green,” he teased, and Arthur straightened up indignantly.
“Excuse me,” he said, brows knitted and arms crossed. “I’d like to hold myself up to a better standard than those ghastly colours. If anything, it’d be-“ He stopped before he could finish it, because while Lancelot and Gwaine had yet to put two and two together, he could see the tension in Merlin’s back immediately rise, matching Arthur’s sudden seizing in his chest. As he watched, the muscles on Merlin’s back tightened and naturally, his eyes gazed to where they moved.
Unable to meet his eyes, Merlin was looking anywhere but him and Arthur had to stop himself from knocking something over when he stared at the little heart over his shoulder blade that seemed to call out to him mockingly, jeering at him for never having caught onto it before.
If anything, his heart would symbolize him and what he stood for. A colour that matched him and his kingdom, and that he wore with pride.
His heart would have been red.
~@~
They studiously avoided talking about it, like the grown men they were. As soon as Gwaine and Lancelot left, Merlin practically flew through the rest of his chores then claimed that he remembered Gaius needing to see him, before bolting out the door. Arthur was left to sit at his desk still a little dumbfounded at the little red heart that had once aggravated Arthur but was now sending him reeling.
That was his heart. It must’ve been.
Or was he flattering himself in thinking that his heart was red, and he was so important to Merlin enough that he’d choose to show it off on his shoulder?
But Merlin’s reaction after he had caught Arthur’s expression during that was a sign enough that the other man felt awkward in the room.
Or was he overthinking it?
He liked Merlin. He really did, despite how many troubles he’d put him through or the teasing he’d send his way. He liked Merlin, and his quirky little things about himself, like his big ears or the way his jokes seemed to always edge on the dark side of humour. It brought Arthur out of one too many dark holes in his life. He liked Merlin, even though many a woman had come vying for his attention and his hand in marriage throughout the years, yet he always found his way back to Merlin’s company in the evening, usually complaining about each lady’s irritating characteristic that drove him up a wall.
Yes, sure. He probably loved Merlin.
In fact, and Arthur’s chest grew tight with realization, he probably not just ‘loved’ Merlin but was downright in love with him as well.
And with how long that little heart had been on Merlin’s shoulder – with the assumption that it was his heart – he’d been in love with Merlin for a while.
He sprang out of his chair and lurched towards the door, throwing it open and looking at the guard down the hall who turned to him. “Get the apprentice sorcerer, any one of them,” he demanded, and the guard nodded, turning on his heel. He needed confirmation about something. Or perhaps reassurance. And he knew that when it came to magic, only magic users could answer the question.
While he knew that Merlin took on a few apprentices here and there in the castle, he had never really spoken to them aside from the initiation day where granted them allowance under Merlin’s wing. Aside from that, he spoke to none of them, always choosing Merlin’s counsel over anyone else’s.
When a young man came knocking on his door, Arthur opened up to someone swathed in ‘apprentice robes’ which honestly just seemed like Merlin giving his apprentices hell. He swallowed down a smirk as he ushered the young man in.
“Your name?”
“Minean, Sire. If you’d like Court Sorcerer Merlin, I could find-”
“No, no that’s fine Minean. I’ll be requiring your services instead,” Arthur said with a wave of his hand, watching that promptly shut the apprentice up. His neck flushed with what could be embarrassment or anxiety and frankly, Arthur didn’t have the time to dwell on it. “Has Merlin taught you how to communicate with the other apprentices across the realm?”
“Of course, Sire,” Minean said in the tone of voice that made it sound like communicating with someone on the complete opposite side of Camelot was simply child’s play. Arthur stamped down the feeling of inferiority. “Good. As you’d assume, I’d usually have Merlin connect me to Morgana but for today I’ll be testing your abilities to do the same.” Just like that, the request for Minean rather than Merlin was justified and now it was a ‘test.’ Minean immediately nodded and walked towards the familiar basin sitting on a table by the wall.
The apprentice was probably doing everything extremely by the book in case Arthur was paying attention (he was not) since it took twice as long for Morgana’s face to appear in the bowl of water than it usually did with Merlin. “Thank you Minean, I’ll send word of your success to your mentor,” he simply said which made the apprentice nod happily and out of the corner of his, Minean seemed to practically skip out of the room.
His sister’s face filled the water and he leaned close to it, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Morgana,” he greeted, to which she simply smiled in bemusement and returned with, ‘Arthur. How’s Merlin?’
“How did you- “
“Seer, Arthur. I thought by this time you’d figure out that I can just tell.”
“Magicians and their bloody magic,” he muttered under his breath and he knew she heard him because she rolled her eyes. “He has my heart on his back,” he said, to which she raised a brow.
“What? If that’s your odd way of saying he has your heart then probably find better ways to describe your feelings, Arthur, because that was not even corny, much less pathetic.”
“I’m not describing my feelings, well, no, I suppose-“He exhaled hard. “Merlin has a lot of hearts. Like you or me,” he started off slowly.
Morgana nodded. “I can see that. He’s well loved by many different communities. And this is surprising to you…?”
“It’s not, but he’s sorted them all by colour and each heart stands for a different person, kind of.”
At this, Morgana finally looked interested. “Oh? And?”
“He chooses to conceal most of them with magic but my heart, or at least I’m guessing it’s my heart, is on his back.”
“Arthur, you’re precious to me, but sometimes you’re an idiot. You and Merlin have been inseparable since you took him on as your servant. Surely you’ve come terms that you care for him deeply by now.”
Waving his hand haphazardly to describe his current feelings now, he nodded. “Well yes, of course I do Morgana, it’s just that now I think I’m in love with him rather than just simply loving him like a friend or brother.”
“To be quite frank, Arthur, that’s kind of what I’ve been referring to.”
“What?” He asked, aghast.
“You being in love with Merlin. And him obviously caring about you in return. Oh come on, please don’t tell me you’re that much not in tune with your own emotions.” She stared at him with a frown and with the way Arthur stared back at her helplessly, she got her answer. Sighing, Morgana shook her head. “Listen, I don’t know why you called me after this revelation when you should’ve just called Merlin and talked about it. You said he had your heart on his back, right? That he chose, over all the other hearts, to show off yours?”
“And his mother and Gaius’.”
“And yours. Arthur, darling, you’re a fool if you don’t realize that means something.”
He was. He was also a fool to not have realized it from the beginning. Swallowing hard, he rubbed his face. “Then just tell me, is it possible for those with magic to determine which heart belongs to who?”
Morgana thought for a moment before nodding confidently. “I’m a seer, so it’s probably a little roundabout for me, but for Merlin it’s more than possible.” She smiled faintly. “If you’re so sure it’s your heart, then even if it wasn’t, you still love him. And I know he knows that.”
Arthur nodded mutely. That was true. Whoever’s heart that was – and it made him dizzy realizing he so desperately hoped it was his – then regardless whose it was, Arthur still loved him.
And maybe, just maybe, if Merlin loved him back, he could convince him to show off Arthur’s heart on his shoulder as well.
“Are you all sorted now, Arthur?” Morgana’s voice jerked him out of his thoughts. He looked down at the still water to where she was peering at him with what looked like pity and pride. An odd mix that only Morgana could really pull off. “Are you ready to go find your little sorcerer and tell him you love him forever and never knew it?”
“Yes, but come on Morgana don’t say it like that-“
Morgana’s laugh cut him off and she waved a hand. As she did, the water began to ripple and Arthur knew that she was ending their communication. Before her face blinked out, she smiled at him. “Good luck and send him my regards.”
As the water returned to its clear form, Arthur sat back in the chair with a sigh. “Bollocks,” he mumbled, realizing what he had agreed to do. Time to go find his sorcerer and tell him he loved him.
~@~
Trying to catch Merlin at a time where he could rationally explain his feelings proved to be the single hardest thing for Arthur to do. Not because he couldn’t ever find Merlin, but because the damn sorcerer knew exactly how to weasel himself out of any and all situations that could potentially breach into personal feelings.
He didn’t allow himself any extra time in Arthur’s rooms aside from doing his chores, and even those were minimal at best.
“Merlin-“ He tried, as soon as Merlin was finished folding, but the man simply saluted his king half-way out the door.
“I promised Gaius I’d help collecting herbs,” he said, for the fourth time during those past three days. Arthur knew for a fact that Gaius didn’t need four stocks worth of herbs to help him get through the next week.
“Damnit, Merlin wait-“ Arthur said in vain, for the sorcerer had already disappeared.
What was more aggravating was that not only was Merlin just avoiding him and having the time of his life with his other friends like Gwaine and Lancelot, but that he was damn well aware of what he was doing.
He slipped out of Arthur’s grasp with the most obvious of tactics that it riled him to an ungodly degree, enough so that even Percival had to stop him mid-strategy planning to point out that he was talking about a completely different part of the map and that Arthur just looked distracted, if not upset.
It wasn’t until he physically grabbed Merlin by the arm and shoved him into a corner of his room was he able to get a word in.
“By the order of your King, I command you to not run away,” he hissed, watching Merlin’s move to try and sneak under his arm halt, aborted. “Would you stop running away from me for once and just listen to what I have to say?”
It wasn’t exactly the way he wanted to start this particular conversation, but it was better than nothing.
Merlin gave him a look. “Well, see here’s the funny thing Sire, I don’t particularly want to hear what you have to say.”
“You can’t talk to me like that,” Arthur said, disbelief flashing through him as he reeled at how adamantly Merlin apparently didn’t want to have this conversation. “It’s important.”
“I’m sure it is, Arthur, but what I think is more important is running a kingdom effectively and not letting something like this worry your pretty little head.”
“My pretty little-“ Arthur spluttered, “for your information, Merlin, this has been driving me up a damn wall, so if you want an effective kingdom, then it’s in your best interest to listen to what I have to say!”
Merlin stopped squirming for once, standing still and sighing heavily. He shot Arthur a look, one that he knew well enough to understand that it said: ‘you giant idiot.’ “Alright. Alright, I’ll listen you out.”
“Good,” Arthur said with a frown. “I love you.”
Merlin frowned back. “I know.”
Arthur paused, unsure where to go from there. “You know. Right then. So why did you keep running away from me when I tried to tell you?”
“Because I knew, you clotpole, and I was hoping we could spare the embarrassment of having to say it to each other. You’re so blindingly obvious that I could barely be in a room with you for more than five minutes without feeling your ‘I want to talk’ energy. You know I love you too, Arthur, now that we’re clear about that, can we move on?”
Completely blindsided by that reaction, Arthur, stood in shock, eyes blinking rapidly as he tried to process what Merlin had just said. He loved Arthur too. He… loved? Wait –
“Merlin, wait,” Arthur said, grabbing the other’s arm once more before he could slip out of the corner. “Wait, I don’t think you’re hearing me.”
Raising a brow, Merlin crossed his arms. “I think I heard you just fine.”
“No, I said I love you.”
“I know that-“
“And by that, I mean I’m in love with you.”
Finally, Merlin stopped talking. His eyes went wide, his hands stilled, and he stared at Arthur unblinking.
“I’m in love with you, you stupid fool. I don’t just love you like a brother, or a friend, or a man-in-arms. I don’t love you like Gwaine does, or like Gwen does, or even how a commoner from the lower towns does. I’m in love with you. I love you like, like I want to know which heart on my body is yours, so I can touch it and know it belongs to you. I love you like I wish I had magic so that I could show off your heart and yours alone. I love you and I just recently learned that I did and every time you ran away from me it made me upset and I realized it’s because I love you and wanted to tell you and-“
He stopped when a hand reached out to suddenly clench his, forcing his mouth to stop moving. When he looked, Merlin was staring at him with an indecipherable expression. Arthur sighed, wondering if this was a good idea to begin with.
“I figured it was okay to tell you, what with you showing off my heart on your back alongside your mother and Gaius’-“
“What makes you think it was your heart?”
Coldness suddenly seized Arthur’s chest like he had been dunked in an ice water pool. Had he been wrong? Had he been assuming this whole time that it was his heart Merlin chose to display? What if he had been mistaken and this entire time, it was someone else that Merlin was proudly showing off, and that his behaviour recently was because he knew Arthur would make some ridiculous confession like this.
“I- I just thought- Red,” he said lamely, watching as a smile quirked the corner of Merlin’s mouth.
However, as the sorcerer took a step closer, hand still clenching Arthur’s, he wasn’t sure what to think.
“And you assume red is your colour and yours alone?” Merlin said, voice low. “That there’s no one else in this world that could stand for such a triumphant, victorious colour?”
“I mean, it was chosen by my father for a reason,” he mumbled, unsure of how to process the way Merlin’s eyes seemed to rove over his face. “You think it’s victorious?”
Merlin snorted, pulling back, leaving Arthur to grieve the widening space between them. “Only you would focus on the fact that your colour means victory.”
“Well, what else is it supposed to stand for, then?” Arthur argued.
The sorcerer simply raised his brows with a look that clearly said ‘Really, Arthur?’
“What? You said triumph. Honour? Valour?”
“Love, you absolute idiot,” Merlin said, and only he could make such an endearing word sound like an insult. He was rolling his eyes and shaking his head and Arthur was trying to fight the flush that threatened to rise from his neck. “You, Arthur, not only stand for triumph, victory, and valour, but love.”
Arthur coughed, now feeling as if the tables had been turned and he was placed in the spotlight. He straightened, trying for composure. “Love, I wouldn’t… I mean, I don’t consider myself…”
Merlin rolled his eyes again but this time his smile grew and he reached across his chest to tap at his shoulder. “I beg to differ. I’ve had your heart on me for quite some time.”
Narrowing his eyes, Arthur followed the hand and wished he could see underneath the clothes, to where his heart lay. “…How long?” How long had he loved Merlin, unknowingly?
“Long enough to know I loved you in return,” Merlin replied, and just like that, the air around them changed.
“You-“ Arthur stopped to clear his throat, face flushing when the awkward squawk heard in it made Merlin laugh brightly. “You do?”
This time, the hand found his again gently, hesitant fingers sliding into his grasp that he tightened immediately. Merlin pressed forwards once more and Arthur moved to meet him halfway, their noses nearly brushing.
“You want me to prove it to you?” The sorcerer asked, brushing his lips gently against the corner of Arthur’s, making his breath pick up with want.
Arthur’s free hand found Merlin’s waist and his fingers tightened against the cloth, pulling him close. “How?” He asked, curiosity colouring his voice.
Pulling back, Merlin grinned. “I could show you which heart is mine,” he said and immediately Arthur snapped to attention. “And just like mine, I could show you the colours of your kingdom, and show you, oh mighty King, just how much you’re loved.”
The colours of his kingdom. He sorely wanted to see it. Yet he also wanted more.
“And you?” He asked, wrapping his arms around Merlin’s waist completely this time, watching surprise and pleasure flit across his face. “Could you show me just how much you love me as well?”
Merlin laughed and Arthur joined him, the sound coming to a stop as lips pressed against each his in a brief, chaste promise.
“Of course. Now must I keep giving you reasons for you to take off my clothes or what are we waiting for here?”
“Blast it all, Merlin. Only you know how to ruin a mood,” Arthur growled playfully as he hauled the other man towards the bed.