Chapter Text
Arthur is 2 years old when his eyes first burn gold and his blocks float up around him. Old enough to understand when his nanny tells him that he must never tell anyone, especially his father. Even so young, he hears the desperation and fear in her voice, and promises her.
Arthur is 5 when she burns.
Later that night, he cried, knowing it was his fault. After all, it was his magic that shattered the vase as his father yelled. However, his father blamed her, and she burned.
Arthur is 10 when he truly starts to fear his father. Finally deemed old enough, he stood on the balcony to watch his first execution. Before the pyre was lit, he heard the sorcerer, in a desperate attempt to save himself, scream “what if it was your own son who processed magic?”
“I would rather have no son at all, then a son who had magic,” Uther replied without hesitation.
Later, Arthur laid in bed, understanding for the first time, that Uther would kill him if he was caught.
Arthur is 17 when a brand appears on his thigh. He lays in bed for the next week, unable to sleep wondering if it’s burns he’ll see across his body, a thin band around his neck, or a slice above his heart. The week passes, then 2, then 3 before he finally decides with relief, that his soulmate was able to get away.
Arthur is 22 when he meets Merlin. Bumbling, simple, sarcastic Merlin who saves his life even after Arthur had him imprisoned for defending a servant. Only a week into Merlin’s employment, and Arthur knows that he enjoys Merlin’s company. What he doesn’t know, is that having him around will change everything.