Chapter Text
"Merlin?"
Merlin stopped right by Arthur's door, the tray from his master's now eaten dinner in his hands. "Yes, sire?
Arthur walked over to him, and looked at him quizzically. "How do you do this every day?"
The question confused Merlin. "What do you mean, sire?"
Arthur swirled his arms around. "This. Everything you do. It's all just so- insignificant. You do the same things every day, and they are none of them of vital importance. If you were to die, I could find another servant. If I was you, I would have gone mad. How do you do it?"
Merlin sighed. "Well, sire, some people are handed nothing at birth. You were born into a lavish life. You have chance after chance to do very significant things. I was born to a poor mother, and no father. This is perhaps the greatest opportunity that has ever come the way of someone like me. So, maybe what I do is insignificant, but I enjoy it all the same."
Arthur pondered this for some time. "I suppose that makes sense." He thought some more. "You may go."
"Thank you, sire."
As Merlin's boots clicked down the hall, Arthur was left alone with his thoughts. His servant was peculiar. "If I was in Merlin's shoes, I would hate myself. Why doesn't he hate me? And why do I have such an interest in Merlin? I have had servants before, and never once did I question them. Merlin makes me question things."
He paused.
"Why is that? Why does he hold so much of my mind? So often, I find myself thinking of him. Of how he always anticipates my needs, and how he always knows exactly what to say to stop me from becoming violent with my father. He knows me better than anyone, probably better than I know myself. Why is that? Why does he have so much power over me? The only other time I have felt something like this was with Alyssa, back when we were children, and that-" There was a long pause. Almost too long.
"Merlin is more than a servant. He knows me, knows my dreams and passions, knows my inner thoughts. He understands who I am, why I am, and he accepts me in spite of it. He is who I want to be. He- he is who I want to be with." This sentence caused Arthur to sit onto his bed.
"I-" The words seemed to not be able to leave his mouth.
"I-I-" He wanted to say it. He needed to say it. Everything would make sense once those words were there, once they were real.
"I-" He was almost there. At any moment, he would understand why. Why Merlin affects him the way he does. He would understand.
"I- love- Merlin." The words came out with a force. It was is if the words being spoken finally made it true.
"I love Merlin." He said it once more, this time a cheeky grin on his face as he began to believe it.
"I love Merlin." He said it again, this time, a huge smile on his face as he thought of Merlin. He thought of his handsome face, of his dumb smile. He thought of his soft voice, and his kindness. He thought of him.
"Where is Merlin?" Arthur stood up, ran to his door, and screamed down the hall.
"MERLIN! COME BACK HERE!"
He walked back to his bed, a wide smile on his face.
This couldn't happen.
The thought hit him like a blow. Yes, he loved Merlin. But there was no way to know if he felt the same way. Even if he did, there was no way that his father would allow it. His father wanted heirs to the throne, and he would not be able to offer that with Merlin, though he wanted nothing more than to be with him. Their love would be forbidden. They couldn't be together.
He sat on his bed, but this time for a different reason. He did not realize how much Merlin meant to him until that moment. What would he say? What did all of this even mean? Should he tell Merlin? He had to, right? Yes, yes he did.
He was going to tell Merlin.
"You called, sire?" The servant walked into the room, slightly gasping for air. He had ran back as fast as he could when Arthur called for him. He still had Arthur's dinner plates in his arms.
"Merlin." Arthur paused. "There's something I want- need- to tell you." He stood there, the words once again not able to escape his mouth.
"What is it, then?" He was confused. Arthur never had a loss for words. What was so important?
He looked his servant. He wanted nothing more than to run to him, and embrace him, and kiss him, and tell him everything. He wanted him to know how much he cared for him. He wanted Merlin to know everything. He decided this firmly, and almost said it.
But something stopped him. He couldn't do it. He couldn't tell him.
"Oh, polish my boots for tomorrow."
"Of course, sire."
Once again, Merlin ran out of the room.
Once again, Arthur had only himself. He alone knew his feelings. Merlin could never know.
Nobody could ever know.