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Arthur knew he was dying.
His side felt as though it was constantly being sucked clean. As if his insides were slowly oozing from the wound that Mordred had left in him. Taking a shuddering breath, he tried to clear his mind as he looked across the fire to see Merlin currently feeding it.
Merlin. Magic. God, how could he not have seen it? What servant could have survived all that Merlin had? He had been a fool not to question it.
Still… While the anger and betrayal sunk deep and stung more than the hit from Mordred ever could… That wasn’t necessarily the main source of his anger. Gaius’ explanation to him had been playing through his mind all day. Merlin wasn’t just magic. No, no. He was the most powerful warlock ever to walk the earth. He was Arthur’s protector.
Protector. Merlin. Protecting him.
After all these years, Arthur felt more offended by that than anything else if he was completely honest.
Merlin was his responsibility. From the moment he entered the royal household under Arthur’s name, Merlin had been his responsibility. Arthur had never considered it could go both ways even with Merlin’s wild attempts to sacrifice himself.
“Arthur?” Merlin asked gently, catching his eye. “Come on, you need to eat.”
“Have you always been this scrawny?” Arthur asked critically as his new servant stumbled about the room. They had just finished yet another round of snipping at one another that had left the prince both frustrated and somehow more relaxed than he’d been in days. Merlin was a strange one. Then again, most of those from the countryside were… And skinny too, apparently.
“Yes,” Merlin sighed “I didn’t grow up with an abundance of food.” He added, taking a plate of Arthur’s leftovers and hitting him with a hard gaze. Arthur scowled at him, but felt a slight stab of something in his gut.
“What about now?”
“What about now?” Merlin repeated calmly, pouring him a glass of wine.
“You have an abundance of food here, don’t you?” Arthur derided and Merlin scoffed.
“Sure.” He remarked casually and Arthur stared
“Sure…?” He repeated and sat up a bit straighter. Despite everything… His servant was now a citizen of Camelot – and Arthur did not allow his people to go hungry. “Merlin, if I ask you something, I expect an honest answer.”
“I get more here than I did back home.”
The answers were vague, but Arthur still got the gist. Biting his lip considered his options as he watched his servant clean up the room. He really was skinny. It really wouldn’t do to have someone of the royal household looking so malnourished.
He waited until Merlin had gone, dismissing him with no more than a wave of the hand before drifting down to the kitchens. It was dark now, the only thing lighting his way being torchlight. As a child, Arthur almost always snuck in for a late night snack and knew Mary would still be there even in the depths of the night.
“I’m afraid I’m fresh out of apple pie.”
Arthur felt a faint smile touch his lips as he peered into the empty room. Pots and pans were stacked high and the floor was still slick, having just been cleaned. He took a few more steps forward to see Mary herself bustling about, her eyes just flickering over to see who it was.
“I’m actually not here for me.” Arthur told her, moving to where she was rolling out dough. The head cook had been around almost as long as Gaius. When Arthur was born she had just turned fifteen, old enough to enter the kitchens. He wondered vaguely what chaos awaited after she left them.
“I see,” She said, flipping the dough over. “Well what can I do for you, my lord?” She asked.
“When you send Gaius his food, make sure he’s receiving extra.” He told her and Mary lifted an eyebrow. While the physician didn’t quite receive meals from the palace, his father made sure his occasionally got rations from the kitchens. With the man aging and so enthralled with his word, he tended to forget some of the simple things like going to the market.
“Ah,” The cook nodded “Yes, that boy Merlin is living with him now, isn’t he? He’s a skinny thing, he is.” She chuckled and paused in her work to turn to him fully “I’ll try to fatten him up for you.” She said and Arthur gave her a polite smile, nodding his head. Giving her a word of thanks, he turned again, boots squeaking on the floor when Mary gently called him back.
“Prince Arthur?” He turned in the doorway. It was too dark to see her expression, but her voice was soft. “That’s good of you to be looking out for him, sire.” She said. Arthur blinked, a little baffled at the compliment. Unsure of what to say, he gave her a slight nod before turning out the door.
Arthur took the food, not really tasting it as he did so.
Part of him wondered if Merlin had eaten recently. The other part of him said he wasn’t supposed to care for the wellbeing of a sorcerer. Or…Warlock, as Gaius to elegantly put. One of the same, in his opinion.
Merlin watched him, critical eyes gazing over him as he finished the food and laid back. He wanted to just sleep…To give into the nagging voice inside his head saying to let go – if only just for a moment.
Unfortunately, Merlin seemed to disagree.
“Arthur.” He called, voice soft. He knelt a few feet from Arthur, hesitantly inching forward as he called his name. “We need to keep moving. I promise we’ll rest later, alright?” He asked and Arthur tried to hold back a groan. “I know.” Merlin added, possibly reading his mind. Could he do that?
Giving up on fighting it, he let Merlin pull him back up on the horse, leading it away from their temporary camp. Merlin’s horse followed suit as they quietly moved along the trail, his eyes flickering every which way vigilantly.
They traveled for about an hour before Merlin stopped the horses again, offering Arthur more food and water before lifting under his armor to press the wound underneath. Arthur hissed in pain, jerking back.
“Sorry, sorry.” He muttered “Just let me help.” He added and bit his lip as he pulled out a fresh cloth, putting it over the wound. Slowly, he lifted the chainmail over it again. It was as good as it would get for now.
“Hold still!” Arthur scowled, trying to keep his servant from jerking away. Merlin, for his part, only resisted more. The prince gave a small huff, grabbing the scarf around the other man’s neck to pull him back. “Stop being such a girl!” He complained and continued dabbing at the cut that reached down from the man’s temple to his jaw.
“You’re pressing too hard!” Merlin whined, shoving his hand away. Arthur took a deep breath and looked up. Why? Why did he have to end up with Merlin of all people?
“I’ve had to patch up hundreds of knights before, I think I know what I’m doing.” Arthur shot back at him and pressed extra hard at the wound for good measure. The sword that had struck Merlin got a good slice in, but not deep enough so it would scar. Now that most of the blood was gone, Arthur could see it wouldn’t even need to be stitched up.
“Yeah, well knights have thicker skulls.” Merlin muttered under his breath and Arthur rolled his eyes.
“What was that?”
“Nothing!” Merlin chirped, offering a wry smile as Arthur scowled back. Reaching into the satchel Merlin had been carrying around before the attack, he pulled out a glass jar of ointment. Silently, he thanked Gaius for having the foresight to tell them to bring extra as he helped himself to a large wad of it, caking the side of Merlin’s face in it.
“I could do this myself.” Merlin grumbled “You’re putting on too much!”
“You’re so stupid that you would put on too little.” Arthur countered “Besides, you’re my servant. If you die, that’s on me…And Gaius would not be happy if you died.” He shook his head. Merlin blinked, tilting his head to look at him before Arthur shoved his face forward again, adding another layer of ointment on.
“Great. Now that that’s done, can we please sleep now?” Merlin moaned and Arthur tossed the bandages aside.
“Idiot.”
“Do you need to sleep?”
Arthur blinked, pulled out his memory suddenly as he felt a hand on his shoulder, gently shaking him. Somehow they were on the ground again. Merlin must have lifted him down as Arthur had been daydreaming. Ignoring him, Arthur stared at the fire crackling.
“Right.” Merlin continued, unfazed. “We can only stay here a bit before heading back out, so try to get some sleep.” He prompted and Arthur continued to stare at the flames. He had made a dragon. The crest of his family in those flames. Was it a sign of disrespect or loyalty?
Tilting his head back, he watched the sky. God, he felt awful. The burning sensation had only increased in his side, despite Merlin’s obvious efforts to heal him. Silently, he wondered if Merlin was planning on casting any magic on the wound as he slept. The idea hardened his resolve to stay awake.
“Do you need anything?” Merlin called to him. Arthur looked up and for a second, the scene was familiar. His servant had a harmful of branches in his arms, the forest twittering with life as the sun slowly started to sink, the fire illuminating the shadows it left behind.
It wasn’t the same though. Everything had changed.
Arthur broke his gaze and didn’t answer. He just…Couldn’t understand. He had been manipulated. Lied to. Betrayed. For what reason?
Because you’re my friend and I don’t want to lose you
That couldn’t be the real answer. He refused to believe it.
The fire rose slightly as Merlin fed it, the warmth greeting him and Arthur couldn’t help but sigh slightly at its comfort. His eyes grew heavier as he watched Merlin work discreetly…
“You should sleep.” Merlin said, not looking at him. “You need all the strength you can get.”
“What is wrong with you?” Arthur shouted, staring in horror at the shattered glass that covered the floor. “I asked you to do a simple task!” He growled, looking over to where his manservant was standing.
Merlin only gave a bow, muttering apologies as he knelt to clean it up. Arthur sighed, spinning away to focus on other duties. He could yell more about his idiot of a servant later for breaking things. No doubt it would be coming from his pay.
After dealing with a tantamount of torture from his duties, each more demanding than the last, Arthur came back to his room exhausted. There was no sign of the glass now and his meal was already waiting for him. Arthur tilted his head. Merlin typically didn’t just leave his food out for him. The man dearly loved to be around to tease him as he ate, chattering on about the day as Arthur repeatedly told him to be quiet – each time with slightly less resolve.
Perhaps he thought Arthur was still upset about the broken cups? Noting it as a probable answer, he sat down and devoured the plate in front of him, almost choking when someone knocked on the door.
“Enter.” He called through a mouth of bread. The door creaked open obnoxiously slow, a small head popping in a few moments later. “Chandler.” Arthur blinked. He didn’t often spend time with the Quarter Master. Merlin was his personal servant so he didn’t tend to interact with anyone else serving the royal household.
“Your highness,” Chandler spoke, taking a deep bow as he fully entered the room. Arthur smiled back, pushing the food away from him to stand. “Oh, please don’t bother, sire!” The man squeaked “I don’t wish to impede too much on your time!” He said, adding a small wave of his hands.
“Has Merlin done something?” Arthur sighed. He really couldn’t think of another reason the head of servants would be here. The Quarter Master frowned, brows furrowing together at the question.
“No, no! He was wonderful this month. I only wanted to thank you for letting me borrow him. I hope it didn’t hinder you too much.” He said and now it was Arthur’s turn to frown. What was he on about? Merlin hadn’t missed a day of work (surprisingly) even if he hadn’t been particularly punctual (not surprisingly).
Still, Arthur wasn’t going to be taken for a fool.
“No, everything was lovely.” He smiled back warmly “Is he with you now?” He asked and Chandler nodded eagerly.
“Oh, he’s with Geoffrey.” The other man said and Arthur nodded. The librarian? “It is quite rare for a servant to read and write, he’s been so extraordinarily useful. I promise he’ll be all yours again tomorrow.” He grinned and Arthur gave a reassuring chuckle, ending the conversation with the typical formalities.
Rubbing a hand over his face, the prince sighed. Part of him wanted to just forget the whole thing and go to bed, but the other half needed to know what the Hell his servant kept from him this time.
Muttering under his breath he yanked the door back open and stormed off to the library. It was getting quite late so there was no bustling that the castle typically had during the day. Most of the workers had gone home for the night, the only lights being the torches.
Well, the torches and the library.
Arthur entered the room quietly, a little surprised to see Geoffrey missing from his usual place at his desk. Taking a few more steps forward, he looked around to see most of the room empty aside from one table where Merlin was sitting.
“I’ve finished this one.” Merlin called and closed a book with a snap. Geoffrey’s face peered from around the shelf, glowering.
“Gently, boy!” He snipped “These books are three times older than you!” He growled, and handed him another. “This is the last one. Think you can get it done?” He asked and Merlin nodded, exchanging the book he had just closed for the new one. From beside him, he picked up a wad of parchment and yawned.
“What is this?” Merlin asked and peered down at the table “The Tale of Tales.” He read and looked over at Geoffrey curiously.
“A children’s book. Full of stories on knights and princes and what not. Prince Arthur loved it as a child. It was the only way he could get him into the library at all.” The older man scoffed and Merlin chuckled.
“I could imagine.” He said and ran his hand over the spine. For a second, his eyes seemed lost as he stared down at the worn cover. “We never had books in Ealdor, but my mother would write down stories for me to read.” He mused “I would always try to write her some in return.”
“Is that how you learned? How did your mother acquire a skill meant for nobles?” Geoffrey asked, sitting down in the empty seat next to him. Neither man had noticed Arthur yet, the candles not quite bright enough to reveal him. From where the prince stood, he leaned in a bit more, curious to answer as well.
“My mother is Gaius’ sister. I assume he taught her.” Merlin said and opened the book. He studied it for a few seconds before wrinkling his nose. “Please tell me I don’t need to copy the pictures as well.”
“No.” Geoffrey chuckled “Just leave those pages blank and copy the words down. We’ll find an artist to sketch them out later.” He said and patted him on the shoulder. “Is it alright if I leave you until morning then?” He asked and Merlin glanced up at the librarian.
“Of course, go get some sleep.” He said and Geoffrey gave a small nod, rubbing his eyes as the mention of sleep.
“Thank you, Merlin. And tell the prince I appreciate him letting me borrow you all these nights. I doubt he’s pleased you sleep most of the days away now.” He laughed and Merlin shook his head.
“Oh, he’s hardly noticed.” He said brightly and Arthur stepped back further into the shadows as Geoffrey exited the library, bidding Merlin goodnight once more.
Arthur stared at the pile of books surrounding his manservant and gave a huff.
“You’ve lied to me.” He growled and Merlin jumped, spilling a bottle of ink as he swore, the paper he had been writing on drenched in black liquid.
“Arthur!” He shouted, half in surprise and half in anger. He took a breath. “You scared me.”
The ink was spreading, but Merlin quickly took a few blank papers and blotted it up, discarding the ruined pages and placing the book he had been replicating far away from the mess.
“I see that.” Arthur said dryly. “That doesn’t answer my question.”
“You didn’t ask one.”
“Do you like being in the stocks?” Arthur asked him, temper rising slightly at Merlin’s tone. He was still cleaning the area up, not even looking at him as he shoved papers aside, reorganizing books before sitting back down. A fresh pot of ink was open and clean paper in front of him.
“No.” He muttered and looked up “What have I lied to you about?” He asked and Arthur scowled, moving so he was directly in front of the table, towering over the other man.
“You never told me you were here all month.” He said, trying to keep his voice calm and not accusatory. “Why?”
“I didn’t think it was relevant to my work with you.” Merlin said, reopening the book to start copying it. Arthur reached over and closed it.
“It is when I have the Quarter Master coming to my room to thank me for lending you to them.”
“That was very gracious of you.”
“Merlin.” Arthur snapped “You shouldn’t have been working for me. If you’ve been up all night doing…whatever this is, I should have been informed so I could have gotten another servant to help me. I’m amazed I haven’t been poisoned or boiled alive with how unfocused you’ve been. I’m guessing this is the cause?” He asked and when Merlin didn’t respond, continued “What even are you doing?”
“Geoffrey said some of the books were getting worn down and wanted to make sure copies were made to preserve the works. I was able to help.” He said, gesturing vaguely around him.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I figured I could do both. Besides, you should be thanking me. With me gone, you would have had some other servant take care of you and always complain about them.” He shook his head.
“If I felt that way, I would have ordered you to stay.”
“Then I wouldn’t be able to ensure your favorite book is passed down to your children.” Merlin smiled tiredly, gesturing to The Tale of Tales. Arthur rolled his eyes.
“You really are stupid.” He muttered and walked around the table to fall into the seat next to him. Arthur considered his options for a moment. For the first time, he really looked at his servant and noted the darkness under his eyes. If he had been working during the night and with Arthur during the day, the prince could only guess how many hours of sleep he’s gotten recently.
A wave of annoyance washed over him at the thought. It was like he tried to make his own life harder. Truly, it was a mystery.
Merlin didn’t react, only slowly scribbling down the words in front of him, slowly copying each one carefully. He would pause for a few seconds to scrub his eyes before continuing, his gaze moving in and out of focus.
“Listen to me.” Arthur finally spoke up and grabbed the book in front of them. Merlin blinked his eyes lazily moving from the now empty spot on the table to Arthur’s face. “I’m taking this to my room and you can finish it next week. I’ll have someone inform Geoffrey to expect it then.” Merlin opened his mouth, but Arthur held up a hand “Meanwhile, you get to go back to Gaius and sleep. If I find out you leave, I’ll put you in the dungeon. Once Gaius tells me you aren’t a walking corpse, you can go to stocks for a day.” He added with a roll of his eyes.
Merlin looked like he might argue, but his exhaustion must have worn out because he only nodded.
“Fine.” He grumbled. Arthur might have scolded him for his lack of formality if he didn’t look so pathetic with ink smudged on his nose and lower lip sticking out.
“Come on.” Arthur sighed, “You really need all the strength you can get. Being this useless must take a toll on you.” He said, gently helping him up.
“Hey…Arthur?” Merlin’s voice lulled his consciousness forward. The sun was completely gone now and fire nothing more than an orange spark. “Sorry to wake you.” He whispered “But we need to keep moving.”
His voice was so soft it almost put him back to sleep. The ache in his side prevented it though and he gave a noise of pain.
“I know.” Merlin murmured, absently brushing strands of hair away from his face. Arthur wanted to jerk away but it felt so nice that he just sighed and let Merlin haul him back on the horse. He wondered vaguely if Merlin was really strong enough to get him up there or if he was using some kind of magic.
What does it matter? A voice inside his head asked bitterly, you’re on the stupid horse.
Drunkenly, he leaned forward, letting Merlin wrap something around them as they went back onto their travels to…wherever they’re going. He wasn’t sure he remembered or even knew. Somewhere to save him. If that was possible. Arthur truly suspected it wasn’t, but part of him was unwilling to crush Merlin’s spirit by telling him that. For some reason, the warlock seemed adamant about keeping him alive.
For some reason. As if Arthur didn’t know. Gwen’s voice scolded him from somewhere in the back of his mind. If she were here she might tell Arthur exactly why Merlin was helping him and Arthur very well knew that reason. Merlin had said it out loud himself.
It was just so much easier not to believe it.
“Sire…Is he your…friend?”
The words had tumbled out of the knight’s lips before anyone could stop him. Arthur froze on the spot. A few of his men had paused, curious looks being sent their way while others let their eyes flicker to the door Merlin had just exited out from.
“My servant? Of course not.” Arthur frowned and the knight nodded, a small smile curving at his mouth.
“Very good, my lord.” The knight bowed and Arthur felt something tug at his gut as he stared back at the man.
“Why do you ask?”
The words were said slowly as Arthur removed his gauntlets from his wrists, watching the man closely. The knight – Sir Bowan – blinked at the question. A few others around him offered a variety of expressions ranging from amusement to disgust.
“I – I just wish to know how…Expendable he is, is all.” Bowan said quickly and before Arthur could answer, Leon spoke up, face hardened with anger.
“He’s the prince’s servant which means he is not the least bit expendable.” The older knight said and Arthur recognized a familiar tone the man spoke with. It was the same one he used when people leered at Morgana or were crude to him as a child. Protective. “A person of any rank cannot be expendable at any rate. Not when their loyalty is unfaltering.”
“How sweet of you, Sir Leon.” Bowan sneered back “Sounds as though you already have plans for him then?” He shot back and Arthur rapidly felt a swell of anger overwhelm him as the pieces began to come together. Followed quickly by confusion and disgust.
“Excuse me?” He asked lowly. Was this something that happened commonly? How had Arthur not known? And what, exactly, had he planned on doing? Arthur knew, of course, he hadn’t always set a stellar example of how to treat his household. The idea of one of his men throwing knives at Merlin as he had done in the past...It left a hard pit in his stomach to even imagine.
Bowan froze, eyes widening slightly.
“I – My lord.” He quickly bowed his head “I didn’t mean to speak so vulgarly, sire. I apologize-”
“What were your intentions with my servant?” Arthur asked coolly “After you deemed him expendable?”
Silence. God. How often had he left Merlin alone with his men? The frustration of the situation tugged at him as he looked back and considered gazes that may have stayed a bit too long on the man or smiles that may have not actually been friendly. He wasn’t entirely sure if the planned to hurt him or…Something else. Both felt equally heinous.
“You are a knight of Camelot.” He finally spoke, not receiving an answer “There is a certain amount of nobility expected of you. Chivalry. And dare I say it – decentness. Under no circumstances do you dare touch a servant or member of this household no matter how ‘expendable’ they are deemed. Do you understand?” He asked coldly and Bowan nodded looking away. Arthur’s gaze lifted to the others who all stood, still watching. “Understand?” He added, addressing them all. A murmur went through the crowd and Arthur turned away.
Fury was rolling through him – Gwen was a servant. Had they hassled her as well? He never noticed any bruises or marks on either of them but maybe he wasn’t paying attention... As he dwelled over this fact he almost didn’t notice Merlin waiting for him just outside the room.
“Did you mean that?”
Arthur glanced over at him. What had he heard?
“You’re not a toy.” He said cautiously and Merlin scoffed.
“I know that. I meant the other thing.”
“What thing?”
“We’re not friends?” He pouted and placed a hand over his heart. “After all this time I thought you finally grown to accept it.” He said, voice dripping with over exaggerated emotion. Arthur stared for a moment.
“I truly can’t stand you.” He said and turned away to the sound of Merlin laughing.
Arthur watched as the men were blown backwards with a bitter taste in his mouth. It felt wrong. So, so wrong. Anger rolled over him, but despite his efforts it wouldn’t stay. Maybe it was because he was dying. Maybe it was because of something else.
“So…” He licked his lips, trying to gather his strength to give another scathing remark “How many people have you killed for me?”
The words were tight as they left his throat. Merlin tensed at the question before walking back over and fixing the blanket around his shoulder. Arthur tried not to think of how familiar his hands felt as they fluttered to his face, checking his temperature and pouring some water down his throat.
“Only the ones that would have killed you if I hadn’t done anything.” He said quietly “Only if there was no other way.”
It didn’t answer the question, but Arthur suspected he didn’t really want the answer.
“Are you hurt?”
Arthur glanced down at where Merlin had been thrown, eyes blown wide. He looked whiter than usual, his gaze flickering to the prince to where a man laid dead on the ground.
“You killed him.” He said faintly. His hands were trembling and Arthur slowly sheathed his sword.
“You’ve seen me kill plenty of times before.” He answered, but made sure to stay back. His servant seemed startled by this new development and Arthur didn’t want to frighten him anymore than he needed to. Merlin sat up, eyes not leaving the vacant expression of the dead man.
“You never killed anyone like… Like this.” He said slowly and it took Arthur a few seconds to realize what he was saying – you’ve never killed anyone for me before. The thought made him shift slightly. Merlin bit his lip before rising, wincing a bit when he moved too quickly. Arthur made a mental note to check him for further injuries later.
“It was either you or him.” He said instead and Merlin shook his head.
“He’s a noble. Your father will be upset if he died over a servant.” He said and Arthur felt a spike of annoyance. It was true, no doubt, but the knowledge bothered him. Sighing, he looked at the dead man who had attacked Merlin minutes before and made his decision.
“Ah, but he didn’t attack a servant. He attacked the prince of Camelot.” Arthur told him and Merlin warily wiped some blood from his lip. His gaze kept switching from Arthur to the noble before nodding.
“Thank goodness you were able to defend yourself.” He said quietly and their eyes met “Thank you.”
Arthur nodded.
“I would do it again.”
And he would.
“Tell me more.”
It was a command, even if it was weak and Arthur could barely keep his eyes open. Merlin steadied him. They were almost close to their destination and Arthur needed a distraction from Morgana’s dead body that was only a few miles away now. Merlin had been reluctant, but did start to tell his story from his childhood in Ealdor to his exploits in Camelot.
He hated it. How Merlin had given everything – sacrificed everything for him. To protect him. It felt wrong and dirty. Arthur had fought to keep Merlin safe and in the end Merlin’s innocence had been destroyed by Arthur himself. By simply protecting him.
“You’re weak. I’ll tell you more when you’ve healed.” Merlin promised. Arthur pressed his lips together. He wasn’t going to heal despite Merlin’s determination to prove otherwise. Swallowing he stared at his servant, trying to process the man he had thought him to be and the man he was.
“You’re loyal to me.” He finally whispered “Despite…Despite it all. Despite everything I’ve done to you. To your people.”
“You’ve only given me hope.” Merlin said as he readied their things “I mean, if you can be both a prat and great king… I reckon plenty of people can pull off something great.” He smiled and Arthur wished he could reach out and grab him. For him to stop moving so he could look at him and figure out how much pain he was really in. It was Arthur’s job after all.
He wasn’t sure when it had first sunk in. Perhaps after Merlin drank from the poisoned chalice, but it occurred to Arthur that his servant was actually a person. A human. A human that he was responsible for. Merlin was supposed to depend on him for protection, money, well-being… God, when the realization had first hit him Arthur had been terrified. He had never had a manservant before Merlin. He hadn’t considered the responsibility.
He thought he had done pretty well until now.
“You’re not coming.”
“I – what?” Merlin spluttered as he stuffed some shirts in a bag. Arthur didn’t bother to yell at him about folding them properly. He had bigger issues at hand. “What do you mean? Of course I’m coming with you.”
“It’s too dangerous.” Arthur told him “I told Morgana you would work with her for the week.”
Merlin gaped and promptly almost tripped over his own feet, solidifying his previous decision as he reached out to catch him. Merlin muttered something he probably didn’t want to know under his breath.
“What use would I be to Morgana?”
“What use are you to me?” Arthur snorted and sighed when Merlin simply stared at him, defiance dripping off of each of his features. “If you follow me…”
Merlin simply shrugged and went back to packing Arthur’s clothes.
When Arthur set out to leave the next day he had to send Merlin on the other side of the castle (twice) to make sure he didn’t follow them. Still, that somehow didn’t stop him since he appeared with medical supplies in hand after Arthur got clipped by a bandit.
“Sire…Is that your servant?”
Arthur sighed and pulled out the spare bag he had packed for when Merlin inevitably arrived. They didn’t acknowledge it, but silently exchanged bags – Arthur receiving one full of Gaius’ best healing herbs and Merlin getting one full of his clothes and food.
“Two weeks in the stocks or one week in the dungeon. Your choice this time.”
“Dungeon.” Merlin said immediately “At least there I can take a nap.”
“Stocks it is.”
“You’ll forget by the time we get back.” Merlin challenged him and Arthur smirked. Little did he know Arthur had already told the guards to arrest his servant upon their return. Eventually he would learn to stop throwing himself in the midst of danger after Arthur.
At least he truly hoped.
Arthur was pulled back to reality by Merlin’s fingers pressing into him, turning his face side to side while he examined for damage. He wasn’t really for sure why – they both knew where the damage was.
“Damn,” Merlin swore lowly after placing a hand on Arthur’s cheek. He ripped a piece of cloth off, dumping water on it before pressing it to his face gently. The king groaned at the sudden contact with cold water, but didn’t find the energy to jerk away.
“Are we…Almost there?” He breathed out. He was trying to keep his breathing steady, but each time it inhaled it felt a bit like drowning. Merlin nodded, struggling to keep him steady as led their horses closer to what appeared to be a lake further out. His hands were shaking, he realized.
“I’ve kept you alive for this long,” Merlin murmured “It can’t be this that kills you.”
Arthur was about to retort when he realized Merlin wasn’t talking to him at all. The quiet reassurances were for himself. Arthur swallowed. He wanted tell his idiot servant that he would of course survive, but there was some doubt niggling at him. He doubted even Merlin’s magic could save him now.
It had been a long time since he worried about death… The last time he hadn’t even been concerned for his own.
“I’m fine,” Merlin whispered, voice sluggish as he desperately clung onto the tree beside him for support. He took a step forward and would have immediately fell if Arthur hadn’t jumped over to grab him. “I got it.” He mumbled and Arthur sighed.
“How is it you managed to survive the doracha, but not this?” He demanded, pressing a hand to the servant’s pale face. Heat was radiating off of him. “We need to get you somewhere you can recover.” Arthur told him and Merlin immediately shook his head.
“I’m coming with you.” He argued stubbornly, barely keeping his eyes open. Arthur pressed his lips together, trying to keep the panic inside. He didn’t know too much medical practice outside simple battle wounds and some infections. Merlin appeared to be plagued with neither of these issues.
“You are coming with me,” He agreed to do nothing other than appease him for the next couple minutes as he scanned for somewhere safe for them to set up camp. There weren’t many ‘safe’ places in bandit country, but he would have to do his best for the time being.
Merlin could die. After everything, he could die right now. If Arthur couldn’t figure out what was wrong and how to fix it, who knows how long he had? They were still a day away from Camelot. Arthur wanted to pick some of the herbs he knew was good for reducing fevers, but Merlin was obviously not having it. Not without him dying beside him apparently.
“Arthur?” Merlin hummed and the king felt a hand curl tighten itself into his tunic. He turned to give him his attention, but that was all the other man said.
How was he going to pull this off?
Somberly he managed to set up camp, dumping Merlin a pile of blankets with the firm order not to move as he tried to think of some kind of plan. He had searched their things to find any trace of an enchantment or something, but there were none. How could his servant had caught some disease that Arthur hadn’t? Grinding his teeth, he tried his best to think as Gaius would.
Too bad the only one of them that had any actual medical knowledge was half-asleep.
He could do this. He could. He had to.
Taking a cloth, he dumped some of his water on it, inching closer to smooth it over Merlin’s face. The man shifted slightly in his sleep, but other than that – didn’t react to it.
“…please don’t die.” He whispered, knowing Merlin probably couldn’t hear him anyways. It felt good to the words out – to just say it and let the reality of everything sink in.
Merlin didn’t die.
“…please don’t die.”
But Arthur would.
He doubted Merlin knew he could hear the words. They sounded smaller than the snippets of reassurances the man had been chirping all day. They sounded scared.
Gaius had said he was powerful. Possibly the most powerful of his kind to exist.
If that were true…How could he ever sound like that? So helpless and young?
For the first time, Arthur replayed the series of events from the beginning. Since the moment he met Merlin. Perhaps that was when his story started after all. The light. Nimueh. Will. All those magical creatures. Sophia. Vivian. All those battles… All those coincidences that saved his life. The old man. The dragon. The shield with the snakes. The battle with his father. Elena. All those days in the tavern... Morgana.
It had all been him.
Arthur hadn’t built this kingdom himself. In fact, he hadn’t done a damn thing on his own.
Maybe that should have upset him. Instead he just felt… Regret.
Perhaps he hadn’t looked after Merlin as well as he had once thought.
Then again, Arthur sat here with his body draining bit by bit. It would seem that was a truth for Merlin too.
“How? How have you managed this?”
It was a good thing the man was immortal. Otherwise he would have certainly died long before Arthur met him. Even now, Arthur was a little convinced that he might still get killed out of pure defiance alone.
“No.” Merlin said and slowly looked up from where he was trying to scrub the blood off of him. Arthur sighed and walked over, yanking the wash cloth out of his hand to dab at the wound. Merlin seemed frozen – eyes blown wide as he stared with his chest rising and falling a bit faster than it should.
“Don’t get me wrong, it was very brave of you to stop that man from killing them but did you have to do it in the stupidest way possible? We both know there are easier ways for you to stop this nonsense outside of jumping in front of a knife.” He said with a click of his tongue. Merlin blinked.
“I… You…” He managed and looked around. They were alone in the alleyway, cars zipping past, oblivious to them tucked away to the side. “Do I know you?” Merlin finally managed and for a brief moment, Arthur felt a stab of panic. Surely, he hadn’t gotten his memories wiped away, had he? He stopped patting away the blood to meet his eyes. There was shock. Disbelief. A smidge of relief mixed in with an overwhelming amount of hope. No, he hadn’t forgotten… Though after thousands of years Arthur was sure he had probably seen some doppelgangers and needed to be sure.
“You do.” Arthur said and put a hand on each shoulder to look him over. Now that the blood was gone he could see the rest of him was in relatively good shape. “I…What is that?” He asked, pushing back the unruined sleeve on Merlin’s arm to see a variety of scars ranging from burns to claw marks to everything in between. Merlin stared down.
"I...Still scar like a normal person, but..." He tried again, dazed. "Are you really here?" He asked and reached out, grabbing at Arthur’s shirt before letting go with furrowed brows.
"Yes," He finally said with a weak smile. "I’m here. Confused. A little alarmed by all the witchcraft surrounding me, but here." He said and narrowed his eyes a little at the very bizarre world around him. A hint of amusement crossed Merlin’s lips. "We should - alright." He interrupted himself when the other man launched himself at him.
Arthur had only hugged Merlin once before and even then it wasn’t quite like this. No propriety. No wariness of people watching with disapproval or concern of whether or not this was proper. It was just relief and pain and happiness and warmth that had him squeezing back as Merlin’s hand curled into the back of his shirt as if he might escape.
"I thought you’d never come." He whispered and Arthur closed his eyes. He didn’t want to ask for how long he had waited for. The answer seemed far too precarious for when emotions were already so high.
"I’m sorry I kept you waiting." He said instead and when Merlin finally let go, bit his lip. "Come on. We need to get you food and maybe to a physician - or, um, doctor? Whatever they are called here-"
"What? I’m fine," Merlin dismissed, giving a breathy laugh "No, I need to explain some stuff to you. I’m sure you’re overwhelmed. And, uh, not really witchcraft here. It’s called science. It’s a sort of-"
"You’re still bleeding." Arthur interrupted. Merlin sighed.
"I can’t die." He told him and Arthur narrowed his eyes before picking up the injured limb and squeezing. Immediately, Merlin flinched. "Ow-"
"So you still feel pain then?” Arthur asked wryly and tugged him along "I can find some cloth and wrap it."
"You’re not here for me." Merlin said impatiently, but didn’t pull away. "You...You came back to save the world or something. To take care of Albion." He told him "I’m here to take care of you." He added on fiercely. Arthur wanted to roll of his eyes at that, but knew it was undoubtedly true. He couldn’t scoff now that he knew all Merlin had done. Still...Arthur wasn’t one to let old habits die easily.
"You live in this world, right?" He asked, gesturing around vaguely. Merlin shrugged. "And I’ll assume you’ll live in Albion once I figure that out?" He reasoned. Merlin nodded. "Good. Then we’re in agreement." He said and pulled him along. Merlin made a noise of objection.
"Agreement to what?"
"Well," Arthur said and stopped walking for a moment to look at him "I can’t stop you from looking after me. But you said yourself I was to look after Albion and since you have allied yourself there...It’s only fair I start with looking after you."
Merlin stared.
"...I’m only letting you get away with that logic because the last time I saw you, you died."
"I plan on using my death to win all foreseeable arguments now that I don’t have a crown to use.” Arthur informed him.
"You can’t do that-"
"I can. I died. Have you died? No. That means by default I win.”
"I’m not sure how you’ve managed to annoy me within five minutes after I waited thousands of years for you to come back." Merlin muttered and Arthur could only grin in return.
Maybe king and servant weren’t necessarily right right roles for them here. Neither were sorcerer and king, either. This though...Whatever this was...Well. It felt right. It felt equal and important and...Safe.
Hopefully that was all he could make Albion to be.