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“Arthur, you’re cold”.
“Well, if you weren’t such a lousy servant, and got this fire going, I wouldn’t be so”.
Merlin just rolls his eyes, scoffing, and turns his back on me.
I feign anger. “Hey, I saw that!”
He mutters something about the ground being wet, so the branches are too, and how is he supposed to make a fire if he’s busy tending to ‘your royal Majesty’?
But only a moment after, the warm colours of red and orange surround him.
“How did you get that started?”
He turns around, his features shadowed from the flickering light of the fire, a defeated look on his face. “Did you want me to start it or not?”
I glare at him, continuing to as he walks towards me. I’m lying against a tree, after being stabbed in the side by a group of bandits. How Merlin survived to drag me away, I’ll never know. He mentioned that if they had recognised who either of us were, we would be in a very different situation to where we are now.
“Come on,” I start, as Merlin checks the dressing he applied to the wound. “Fire’s don’t just start like that”.
He shrugs. “I’ve had lots of practice. I am good at some things, you know,” he adds, almost accusatory.
I nod in agreement. “You are full of surprises, Merlin”.
“Like you would not believe,” he smiles. “Get some rest”.
***
There’s too many of them.
We were travelling through the Valley of Fallen Kings. It was supposed to be a secret route, but of course 50 or so men came running down the sides of the path. Merlin, being the clotpole he is, managed to get struck with a mace to the chest – he couldn’t go on. I dragged him away from the attackers, away from the knights.
When morning came, men came, and we had to move. I laid Merlin down so I could protect the two of us. Typical.
And here we are.
Two is fine, but then more and more men run down the sides of the path. I glance towards Merlin, careful to keep an eye on the 3 people that were now running towards me. He meets my eyes, his eyes focused, his lips moving and his hand up.
Pulling my eyes away from his, I spin my sword in my hand, ready to face them. I can do this, for Merlin.
But before they could even reach me, boulders the size of a small horse block them off.
“MERLIN!” I scream, trying to manoeuvre my way through the rocks, but they fall too fast.
I’m trapped. But I daren’t think of what they’ll do Merlin on the other side.
***
“There’s no disgrace for a servant to lose to his king”.
“Nor a king to his servant”.
The tavern bursts with laughter.
“10”, Merlin says, and that he rolls. He smiles up at me.
“Enjoy this moment, Merlin,” I tell him sternly. “While it lasts”.
He looks at me in mock terror.
I pick up the cup, giving the dice inside a shake.
“Twelve”, I say, just as Merlin coughs. The dice read one and three. Merlin looks around at the people watching, and smiles sneakily.
“You put me off,” I declare, now sure of my growing suspicions.
He looks confused, and asks dryly, “what are you talking about?”
“You just coughed”.
“I was clearing my throat,” he laughs, some worry dissipating from his eyes.
“You just coughed, deliberately,” I emphasise, narrowing my eyes. Now I’m sure of it.
“I knew you’d discover my secret in the end. There is just no fooling you, my lord,” Merlin says, mockingly, and puts all his coins in. I roll my eyes. If he wins this, I’m sure. I’m willing to bet all the money I have on me.
So I do.
I cross my arms, and lock eyes with him. He shakes the cup, and pours out the dice.
“Twelve,” he says, before glancing down. His eyes light up, as he anticipates the heaviest pocket he will probably ever have. But not as they did for a second before, when they flashed gold.
He smiles at me, and cheers for everyone else there.
Now I know. Merlin has magic. He’s a sorcerer. And the idiot thought he could hide it from me.
***
Merlin and Percival walk in front on me, on our way from the tavern to the castle. It’s dark, but a pleasant evening, and of course we’re all warm from the tavern.
We’ve all been on the cider, Merlin more than any of us. And you can tell. He’s giggling like a little girl, and at one point squeezes Percival’s bicep and looks up at him in awe. He looks back at me, his face briefly falling, but returns to a smile soon after. I smile back at him.
He swings his arm around Percival’s shoulders, and laughs. He starts singing off-key, and makes Percival join. He’s surprisingly good.
Merlin stops singing. Percival glances at him, and stops singing too.
“Arthur!” Merlin calls, and turns both himself and Percival around. “Come here and join us!”
“I’m the king, Merlin,” I say, nearing the two of them. “You can’t tell me what to do”.
He laughs, richly. “There’s no shame in following a servant’s orders, Sire”.
“‘No disgrace’, Merlin. Has the cider made your memory fail you?”
He grunts happily, then holds out his left arm. Percival glances warmly at him, then watches me, expectedly.
I stand next to him, waiting. He grins widely, and puts his arm around my shoulders, continuing his melody, if you can even call it that.
***
Percival leaves first – the knights’ chambers are in the outermost areas of the castle.
“Come up with me, Merlin. I have to ask you something”.
He looks at me, then glances longingly in the direction of the physician’s office.
“It’ll be quick,” I promise him.
He closes his eyes, yawning and stretching at the same time, then nods.
“It had better”.
I lead us towards my chambers, ready to expose Merlin for the liar he is. Not to anyone else, of course. I couldn’t do that to him. I’ll expose his lies to himself.
Wrapped up in my own thoughts, I don’t notice Merlin tripping over a lone wheel, bringing me down with me.
“Merlin! You clotpole! My hand just missed that horse’s…”
He had not been so lucky.
I scrunch my nose at the foul smell, and get us both up. He’s drunk, and he’s dirty. It can wait.
“Actually, Merlin, I can talk with you later. Go and get yourself cleaned up, and be up early for the training session tomorrow morning”.
Merlin raises his eyebrows in disbelief.
“If you hadn’t asked me to come with you, Arthur, I would have gone straight towards my bed, and wouldn’t have fallen into this” – he gestures at his face, and shakes his head. “The things I do for you, Arthur”.
“Hmm.” I begin to walk away from him. “Goodnight, Merlin,” I call over my shoulder.
He scoffs, but eventually says it back.
***
Drinking normally makes me as tired as Merlin, but tonight is different. My body is aching from fatigue, but mind is racing, full of thoughts of Merlin’s magic.
All the times where things appeared to be hopeless, but turned around, and we won the battle. All the times attackers would disappear, or a sword would fly out of someone’s grip. All the people Merlin warned me not to trust, despite my insistence he was wrong. All the knowledge he held about magic, or sorcery – him and Gaius. Knowing when and when not magic was involved in someone’s actions – if they were acting of their own will or not. The times he brought me back to life. The times he has managed to stay alive, despite being incompetent with a sword. All the lives that have been taken, and saved, by Merlin’s magic.
Surely it is too much for one man to handle. Especially as a manservant to a prince under my father’s rule, and then now, to me as king. Having to hide a part of yourself, for fear of being called a traitor and being burnt at the stake.
I lay in bed, tossing and turning as I try to recall anything out of the ordinary, laughing at how obvious it all was; it turns out there’s a lot. My thoughts stop briefly as I remember my trousers falling down in front of Agravaine and the knights. How humiliating it was. Only now can I laugh at it, knowing who caused it.
Think of the devil.
“Arthur?” Merlin asks, rubbing his eyes as he opens the door to my chambers and walks in. “You’re already awake?”
“Oh.” I sit up quickly and look around, surprised to see the sunlight streaming through the gaps around the curtains. “Yes, I am”.
Merlin studies me. “That’s unlike you, Sire”.
Only now has my mind caught up with my exhausted body. I lay back down, pulling my covers over me.
“I don’t think I slept at all last night,” I mumble through the quilt.
I hear Merlin creeping towards me, his warm breath on my hair as he crouches next to me.
“Do you want me to delay the training session?”
“No,” I sigh, and eventually sit up. “I said it will happen, so it will. Help me get me dressed, please”.
He does so, and starts to put my armour on me.
“Merlin,” I say, as he looks from tightening the straps to meet my eyes. “Do you remember when my trousers fell down during one of the council sessions, and then you wrestled me to get them back up?”
“Yeah”, he says, smiling, his eyes shining, as if remembering a fond memory. I look at him.
“That’s a great memory, but why bring it up?” He asks, dragging his hands from my shoulders to cross his arms.
“How did that happen?” I cross my arms to mirror him.
He frowns. “Good question, Sire. I imagine your belt wasn’t tight enough. Sorry, that must have been my fault,” he adds, bowing mockingly.
I cross my arms tighter. “No, that’s not it. I remember it fitting quite well”.
Merlin looks confused.
“And aren’t you always saying my belts are too tight?”
He pauses. “Yeah. Where are you going with this?” He cocks his head to the left curiously, still keeping eye contact with me.
“Nowhere,” I answer, after a few quiet moments. He smiles quickly. “That’ll be all, Merlin. Thank you”.
Merlin turns around quickly, but not before I see his features contorting sourly. He looks confused. Worried, perhaps.
I grab the nearest breakable to me – a glass vase gifted to me from one of Camelot’s visitors – and throw it at him.
“Merlin”.
He turns around, and raises his hand as the vase nears his face. It stops, and so does Merlin. Through the clear glass of the vase, I see his eyes widen, and the glass falls to the ground, smashing beyond the point of repair.
He gulps. “Sire”, he whispers, before almost sprinting out of the door, looking only at the floor while he does so.
“Merlin!” I call after him, and try to catch up with him, but he’s gone.
***
“Gwaine!”
I catch Sir Gwaine on his way up to the castle, a while after our training session ended.
“Have you seen Merlin?”
He thinks, then says, “Well, he’s not in the tavern – I’ve just come up.”
I look at him in disbelief. “We’ve just had training!”
“And I’ve just had a drink! No, I haven’t seen him since” – he ponders – “yesterday”.
“Thank you, Gwaine”.
“Sire”.
We cross paths, as I make my way to the physician’s office, wondering if Gaius knows where Merlin is.
“Gaius,” I say, walking in. He looks up from herbs he is crushing. “Have you seen Merlin?”
He places the pestle on the table next to him. “No, Sire. I haven’t seen him since he came in after seeing you, then left without a word. Did something happen between you two?”
“Nothing too serious,” I reply.
“I see. Try the forest, Sire”.
“Thank you, Gaius.” I look out of the small window in his office, then back to him. “Magical day, isn’t it?”
“Sire?”
“Yes?”
He clasps his hands, bowing slightly at me. “I hope you find him and bring him back safely.”
I smile at him. “Of course. He is my servant, after all. And friend,” I add.
He returns the smile. “Thank you, my lord”.
***
I decide against a horse, hoping to watch how Merlin acts unknowingly in my absence. He sits next to a small fire, holding a few flames in his hand, yet feeling no pain. The flames dance in his palm, moving freely. They morph from one shape to the next – from a horse, to a dragon, to a pair of figures embracing. It’s incredible. He sobs, then quickly extinguishes the flames.
I step out of the bush I’m hiding in.
“Merlin,” I begin.
He stifles another sob.
“Sire,” he says, immediately looking down.
I sit down next to him, warming my hands with the fire.
“Why’d you run away, Merlin? You know I wouldn’t have you put on the stake,” I joke. My face darkens. “I’m not my father.”
He looks up at me, the delicate skin around his eyes red and swollen, and slowly looks down again, a pained expression on his face.
“Merlin, anything that couldn’t be explained, I now know is you. You’ve never sought credit, but thank you, old friend. From the bottom of my heart. For looking out for me, and Camelot. For everything.” I breathe in, and out again. “And for being my friend.”
I look at him, and see he’s looking at me too.
“You’ve changed me, for the better,” I add.
“You’ve changed me, too.”
I smile at him. “In a good way?” I ask, hopefully.
Merlin swallows. “Both good and bad,” he says.
I nod, understanding. “You had to hide who you are.” I pause, thinking things over. “Well, not anymore. I’ve thought about it, and I’m going to lift the ban on sorcery”.
Merlin catches my eye, laughing bitterly. But he sees the look in my eyes. “Really?”
I nod, as he reads me with too many things to name in his eyes. Some tears, too.
“Come here, you clotpole,” I say, putting an arm around his shoulders, rubbing his head. Merlin giggles, tears still streaming down his face, and wraps his arm around my shoulders, and buries his face in my neck.
“Thanks, Arthur.”
I hum in appreciation, until I feel something wet coming from his nose.
“Can’t you magic that away?”
Merlin laughs again, and rubs his nose on the side of his hand.
“Disgusting,” I say, rolling my eyes, smiling at the same time.
We stay in a half-embrace for a while. The quiet roar of the fire, and Merlin’s uneven breathing are the only sounds in the forest. Every so often, he reaches up to wipe a tear from his cheek.
I finally speak. “Never change, Merlin. I-”, I say, faltering. “I love you the way you are”.
Merlin sucks in a breath slowly, shaking, understanding my words.
“Everything I do, Arthur, I do for you,” he says, hesitantly, slowly. “You know I love you. Very much,” he adds, looking at me.
He smiles at the tears in my eyes. “Are you going soft on me, Arthur?” he asks, sarcastically, lovingly.
“No,” I insist.
“I won’t tell anyone”.
“You’d better not,” I say, pointing at him. I pull him up. “Come on, let’s go back to the castle for supper”.
Merlin nods, and puts out the fire.
We make our way through the trees, leaning on each other as we walk.
“I think Gaius knows I know, unless he didn’t get my hints,” I mention. “Was he the only one who knew?”
“At first, but then Lancelot knew right from the start, and Gwaine… just found out, I guess”.
“Gwaine knew?”
“And Will, from Ealdor,” he says, his face dropping.
“Sorry.”
He nods, curtly. “Oh, and two dragons,” he adds, grinning.
“Dragons? Two?”
“Yeah, I can talk to dragons,” he says, casually.
I look at him, awe overwhelming me. The bright spark in his eyes is back, and the spark in mine grows.
We walk on, towards our kingdom, a warm feeling in my heart.