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“Kill me then.”
Merlin’s voice couldn’t shake anymore if he wanted it to. Not after living under Uther’s reign for so long, not after protecting Arthur at the price of his own neck, not after he was bound by cold iron here in Camelot’s little cell.
Arthur stands before him, eyes hard, jaw working, voice a hairsbreadth from cracking when he says, “I can’t.”
“No?” He says, because it would be easy, so easy. He’s on his knees, his hands chained above his head, his magic trapped by shackles at his wrist. And even if none of that were so he still can’t hurt Arthur. Too much of his wretched heart is tied up in the blue of Arthur’s eyes, in the crooked way he smiles. Too much of Arthur’s soul is lodged protectively between Merlin’s ribs.
Arthur shifts uncomfortably, “You will be banished-“
And Merlin can’t help the scoff that falls past his lips, “Banished. Banished like you banished Gwen?”
And oh, he sees the moment Arthur goes cold and brittle and fragile, the weight of the world resting on his young shoulders and Merlin knows without realizing that he does that he will lose this man a thousand times before he will ever be at peace.
“Don’t,” Arthur growls and it sounds more like a whimper, “Don’t you dare. Can’t you see what I’m trying to do here Merlin?”
Yes, Merlin sees. Of course Merlin sees, because Merlin always sees when it comes to Arthur. He refuses to give in anyhow.
“You’re going to cast me out, just like you did Gwen-“
“Merlin-“
“-without a shred of mercy to spare-“
“Merlin-“
“-because you’re a coward who can’t even look past his own nose to see how much people care about him-
“Merlin-“
“What, Arthur? What could you possibly expect me to say? I’ve been nothing but loyal to you for years, protected you, loved you, and you banish me?”
Merlin's breath come out harsh, his face unexpectedly wet. Arthur is staring at him, inscrutable.
“I am the King, Merlin,” he says. “I can’t break my own law-“
“Yes, you are the King,” Merlin looks him in the eye, unyielding.
Arthur’s breath catches in his throat, and Merlin knows he understood what he had meant. King Arthur, golden and shining, can’t even keep his own servant from banishment.
“What use is your crown if you won’t change things?” Merlin says bitterly.
The cold stone of the dungeon floor is rough on his knees and dark in his gaze as Merlin stares at it, stares until he feels hands under his chin, until he feels the warmth of another body kneeling before him, until the white of Arthur’s tunic fills his vision.
“I’m trying to save you,” Arther says.
“Then do it right,” Merlin says, finally lifting his chin level with Arthur’s. Arthur’s eyes shine in the dim light of the dungeon, and Merlin is fairly certain his match. Then Arthur lets out a strangled groan and surges forward, pressing their mouths together. Merlin gasps against his lips, kissing back at a feverish pace as Arthur’s hands thread into his hair, tilting his head for better access. Merlin lets him, sighing as Arthur’s tongue licks at the seem of his lips, as he lets him in, as he presses back, as Arthur pulls him closer than what should be humanly possible, holding him desperately.
“I’m sorry,” he presses a kiss to the corner of Merlin’s mouth, “I’m sorry,” to the underside of his jaw, “I’m sorry,” to the crook of his neck. Merlin doesn’t pull away, can’t bring himself to want to as Arthur slows, wrapping his arms around Merlin’s middle, and stays there. And Merlin wishes to God that Uther hadn’t been so cruel, that he hadn’t made Arthur feel like upholding his legacy was the only way for Camelot to prosper.
“So am I,” he says into Arthur’s golden hair, stacking kisses against his crown because he can’t do much else with his hands tied.
They sit in silence for a long moment.
“Ask me to stay,” Merlin breaks it, “For once in your life Arthur, just say what you want.”
Arthur pulls back, imploring Merlin with those blue blue eyes, mouth swollen, tears staining his cheeks, “I can’t.”
And Merlin’s lips quirk up in the saddest smile, “I know.”
He leans his forehead against Arthur’s, “We were meant to be so much more than this you know.”
He places a last kiss against Arthur’s shuddering mouth.
Merlin is gone by morning.