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Chapter Text

Arthur groaned as he rubbed his sore shoulder. One of the knights he had been training with today had slammed into it earlier, and now he was feeling the effects the hit had left. He was sure there would be a bruise, and moved the loose tunic off his shoulder to inspect it.

Sure enough, he began to see the tell tale red splotching that indicated that he would sport a nasty bruise for a few days, though he noted that his soul mark looked completely unaffected, even though it was right in the middle of the red mark. He found himself staring at the image on his skin, wondering when he’d meet the person it represented. 

Absentmindedly, he began to trace the outline of the golden falcon. Ever since he was young, he wondered if he would even ever be able to meet his other half, and how the mark would help him find them. He hoped that the golden color meant they were noble or even royalty, that way he could marry them easily. However, in the back of his mind, he knew that wasn’t what the color symbolized. 

His chamber door opened suddenly, ripping him from his thoughts. Merlin walked in, holding something small in his hands. 

“Sorry I’m late Arthur, I just saw that training looked rougher than normal, so I went to Gaius and grabbed some of his…” Merlin trailed off when he saw Arthur’s exposed shoulder, quickly averting his eyes. He was always like this, Arthur mused, always awkward whenever Arthur had his mark showing.

“Well, what are you waiting for then? Get on with it Merlin,” Arthur said, removing the tunic entirely. He knew that Gaius’ salves always helped, and he was secretly grateful that Merlin had thought to grab one. He felt a swell of affection in his chest, but quickly stifled it. 

That had been his problem lately. More and more, he caught himself thinking of his manservant in a way that was not entirely appropriate, and he had to try to quash those feelings. It always made him feel especially guilty when he thought of his soulmate, and even though they hadn’t technically met yet, it made him feel unfaithful. 

But gods, it was hard to ignore these feelings, especially when Merlin was rubbing a cooling salve on his sore muscles with just the right amount of pressure. He had to suppress a groan of relief as those thin, pale hands expertly massaged away the pain that had set in. 

When Merlin finished, he began to busy himself tidying up the chamber. He normally would have done this in the morning, but had spent that morning in particular gathering herbs for Gaius, and thus had only brought Arthur breakfast and fetched his training gear. 

Arthur watched him, sitting down in his favorite chair at the table. He grabbed a goblet of water that had been left on the table earlier and sipped it, not really minding that it tasted odd from sitting stagnant for several hours. His eyes followed the dark haired man as he moved sporadically through the chambers, absentmindedly licking his lips when Merlin had to bend over to pick up Arthur’s discarded tunic. He breathed in sharply and darted his eyes away when Merlin turned back around, holding the tunic.

“Are you going to want to put this back on?” Merlin asked, offering it to the king. Arthur looked back at him as though he hadn’t been paying attention, then nodded and stood up to let Merlin put it back on. Merlin rolled his eyes but obliged, and Arthur felt an odd feeling in his belly when the back of Merlin’s knuckles grazed over his sides. 

“Well, I’ll go and get your dinner,” Merlin announced, before striding out of the room. Arthur nodded as the doors closed, only just then noting what Merlin had said. His mind was wandering, thinking about the man, and the fact that he should definitely not be thinking about the man.

‘ This would be easier if Merlin would just find his soulmate, ’ Arthur thought, slumping into the chair by the fireplace. Of course, it would be best to find his own soulmate, but he knew it was likely that he may still pine after Merlin afterwards. The problem was, it seemed that Merlin didn’t care about his soulmate. 

The man always kept himself as covered as possible, even in the hottest of summer days, clearly hiding his soulmark. He and Arthur had only talked about Merlin’s soulmate once, and after that conversation, Arthur had never broached the subject again.

“What’s your soulmark look like, Merlin?” Arthur asked one night when the two of them were in the woods alone.

“Why do you care?” Merlin had snapped back. Arthur raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“I was just curious. I mean, you’ve seen mine, why can’t I know about yours?” He asked. Merlin looked sulkily into the dying fire. 

“It doesn’t matter. I don’t want to talk about it,” Merlin muttered, his tone dark. They sat in silence for a moment before Merlin excused himself, muttering an excuse about needing firewood. 

Arthur pulled himself back into the present, wishing he had pushed Merlin to talk about why he didn’t want to discuss it. He briefly considered asking him when he brought back his dinner, but decided against it. Merlin had sulked for two days after that discussion, and he didn’t really want to repeat  that. Despite how much he complained, he did actually enjoy Merlin’s chatter and their banter. 

He let his gaze drift down to his shoulder again, pulling the tunic back to get a better look at his mark. The falcon glowed brightly against his skin, a golden that looked almost molten. The bird appeared to be flying, wings stretched wide, it’s flightpath made a straight line to his heart.

His thoughts drifted again, trying to imagine what his soulmate looked like. Arthur didn’t know if it was a man or a woman, as generally the way to tell a bird's gender was through their coloring, and since his was instead colored with a gold that rivaled his crown, he wouldn’t know until he met them. 

But no matter if he imagined them as male or female, he kept returning to the same description; dark, wavy hair, bright blue eyes, tall, thin, clumsy…

He shook his head. He was trying to forget about his feelings towards his manservant. It would be unfair to his soulmate if he was still pining for Merlin when he met them. 

As if on queue, the manservant in question entered, carrying a tray of meat, bread and cheese. Arthur hoisted himself up and sat at his table, wincing at his sore muscles. The salve had helped, but there were still some remaining aches deep in his body.

As he ate, Merlin continued to tidy around the room, checking if anything needed mended or polished and grabbing Arthur’s nightclothes and placing them on the bed. Arthur wouldn’t be turning in for a bit, but Merlin always liked to be prepared. 

After Arthur finished with his meal, he grabbed his goblet and refilled his wine before returning to the chair by the fireplace. Merlin sat in the chair next to him a moment later, an action that would have been inappropriate between any other master and servant, but neither of them cared how it might be seen to others. They sat in comfortable silence for several minutes, Arthur occasionally sipping his wine and glancing at Merlin. 

He loved how Merlin looked this time of night, the fire casting shadows on his cheekbones, the flames flickering in his eyes. When Merlin crouched down to add a new log and poke the flames with the poker, Arthur allowed himself to, for a brief moment, imagine they didn’t live in a world with predestined love, a world where they could have each night like this, and end it wrapped in each other on his large bed. 

When Merlin stood back up and plunked back into the seat, he forced himself to get rid of the daydream. He hoped that he could meet his soulmate soon, hoping that when they met it truly felt as though the world was changing, becoming brighter by their very presence. And, Arthur thought, he hoped Merlin would find his soon after. That way he could put this useless pining behind him, and see his manservant happy at the same time.

Although, Merlin never seemed to be happy or comfortable talking about soulmates. He had been awkward even the first time he had seen Arthur’s soulmark. Arthur had thought his reaction was odd, and looking back, he still wondered why he had reacted the way he did.

“Well if you weren’t being such a ridiculous prat…” Merlin’s mutter trailed off after successfully removing Arthur’s nightclothes to help him put on his tunic. His eyes fell on Arthur’s soulmark and held there for a moment;.

“Yes, Merlin, it’s a soulmark. And last I checked, it doesn’t affect you. Your focus should be on your duties and yours duties alone,” Arthur said, rolling his eyes to mask the discomfort at the intensity of Merlin’s gaze. Merlin’s eyes snapped back to his, seeming shocked. 

“Right,” he muttered, returning to dressing Arthur. He was a bit surly for the rest of the day, but Arthur ignored it. After all, why should he care if his servant was moody or unhappy as long as he was doing his job and minding his business? 

Arthur inwardly winced at the fact that he had thought that back then, but he knew he never would now. Glancing back at the man that occupied his thoughts, he noticed Merlin’s eyes were drooping.

“Alright Merlin, I’m ready to turn in. Wake up,” he teased. In truth, he likely wouldn’t have gone to bed already, but he could see the exhaustion written on his manservant’s face. Merlin nodded and stood up, almost stumbling over to Arthur’s bed to collect his nightclothes. Arthur stood up and placed his goblet on the table, knowing Merlin would grab it with his other dishes on his way out. 

He strode over to where Merlin was waiting to undress him, and settled into the routine of going to bed. The two moved seamlessly, each well practiced and knowing what to expect after years. They moved in time with each other, Merlin looking tired and Arthur not meeting his gaze, not knowing what he would say or do if they met each other’s eyes. 

Soon, Arthur was laying in bed and Merlin was blowing out the candles and tending the fire, ensuring it would burn for the night to combat the chill that settled in the dark. He then grabbed the plates from earlier and went to the door, pausing for a moment before leaving.

“Good night, Arthur.”

“Good night Merlin.” 

Chapter Text

Of course they were attacked today. Of course Merlin managed to predict it.

Arthur slashed at the bandits, at one point hearing Merlin yell his name and turning to see a bandit fall off his horse. If that one hadn’t fallen, he shuddered to think what would have happened. 

After running his blade across one of the bandits and killing him, he turned to see if any more were coming. His eyes darted for a moment before taking in a sight that made his blood turn cold.

Merlin, collapsed on the ground, barely stirring and breathing heavily. 

Arthur rushed over and threw one of Merlin’s arms around his shoulder, holding it with one hand and using the other to hold him at the waist.. He dragged him deeper into the woods, hoping beyond hope that they weren’t followed as they staggered. 

He could tell that they were however, two bandits loudly  crashing through the forest behind them. Arthur found a small divot in the ground and staggered over to it, carefully setting Merlin down. They sat there for a minute, waiting until the bandits passed them. 

“They need to work through their anger,” Merlin joked breathily, though it felt flat to both of their ears. 

“They just did. On you.” Arthur’s voice sounded strained even to his ears. He glanced down at Merlin and saw him chuckle, though it looked strained and Arthur could clearly tell he was in pain. 

Arthur pointedly looked away from Merlin, unable to see the look on his face. After listening and determining that the bandits had gone, he picked his friend back up and they staggered away, Arthur hoping to put as much space between them as they could, not waiting to give them the chance to finish the job on Merlin.

“A night's rest and you’ll be polishing my armor. It could definitely do with a scrub.” Arthur said, deciding they were safe for the moment and hoping to check Merlin’s wound. He set Merlin down as gently as he could and caught his breath. He raised his hand to move his friend’s tunic, freezing when Merlin grabbed his wrist. “Don’t,” Merlin whispered. Arthur gasped exasperatedly.

“I have to check the wound, Merlin, I need to see how deep it is,” Arthur said in a tone that barred no argument. Merlin’s hand tightened on his wrist, before his eyes met Arthur’s. When he saw the glare directed at him, he finally let go, looking away.

Satisfied, Arthur lifted his neckerchief a bit and pulled the neck of the tunic down a bit. Arthur sucked in his breath sharply at seeing the deep, bleeding wound. Merlin turned back to look down at his chest, and a grim look covered his face. 

“I’ve seen worse,” Arthur lied, “I’ve definitely seen worse.”

“Yeah, on a dead man,” Merlin shot back. Arthur looked away, refusing to meet Merlin’s eyes. 

He glanced down at the wound again, hoping that it would somehow have changed, when a splotch of red caught his eye. His gaze traveled higher, to just below the hollow of Merlin’s throat, where he saw the outline of what appeared to be a red animal.

Quickly, before Merlin could react, he pulled the neckerchief up a little further, and blankly stared at what he saw. 

A large red lion.

There was a beat of silence between the two, both of them frozen, Arthur staring at the soulmark and Merlin staring at Arthur. Slowly, Arthur raised his eyes to meet Merlin’s, a hundred different emotions swirling in his chest.

“Merlin,” he said, “what is the meaning of this?” 

Merlin was silent, eyes locked on Arthur’s. Vaguely, Arthur noticed a flit of terror in the azure eyes that stared back at him. Finally, Merlin tore his gaze away, looking back down at his chest.

“Nothing,” he mumbled, moving to cover the mark again. Arthur grabbed his wrist before he was able to, grasping both of Merlin’s hands in his left and using his right to grab his chin and force him to meet his eyes again.

“Really?” He asked, his voice low and almost dangerous. He saw the faint look of fear jump back to the other’s eyes. “Because to me it looks like your soulmark. And to me,” he looked pointedly at the mark, “it looks like you are my soulmate.” 

Merlin squirmed weakly underneath him as Arthur continued to inspect the mark. Lions were, of course, known to be symbols of kings, and generally those with lions as soulmarks were destined to be with royalty. It was the red that enforced that this mark symbolized Arthur. He knew that if he had held up his cloak to the mark, (if he hadn’t thrown it off during the fight,) the color would be a perfect match the color stained on Merlin’s skin. 

Arthur looked back up at Merlin, and as the feeling of shock left the forefront of his mind, it was replaced with feelings of elation and pride.

Yes, thought some primal, selfish monster in the back of his mind, Mine. All mine…

Merlin was his. He never had to feel guilty for pining over him, because he was his to love. He was the one that he was destined to be with, the one that he could live out the rest of his days with. 

However, as quickly as the happiness hit him, it left, replaced by anger and confusion. Merlin clearly knew, as evidenced by the fact that he tried to hide his mark, and he had clearly known all these years. How come he never told him? 

Then, a new thought invaded his mind. Did Merlin not want to be his soulmate?

Hurt rolled through him like waves. Was Merlin disappointed that Arthur was his soulmate? Did Merlin hate that he was bound to the king in such a way, and that was why he hid it? 

Arthur opened his mouth, not sure what he was going to ask or say, when there was a sound off in the distance. Arthur quickly realized that they needed to move. 

“We have to go, or else we’ll be mercenary mince meat,” Arthur said, standing up.

“Leave me,” Merlin whispered. Arthur looked at him pointedly.

“Now’s not the time for jokes,” Arthur said crossly. “We have a lot to talk about, and you do not get to die before that happens.” With that he picked Merlin up and threw him over his shoulders, ignoring Merlin’s groan of pain. He set off at a brisk pace in the opposite direction of the sounds he heard a moment before.

Soon, they reached a shallow fissure in the ground, rocks surrounding the sides. Suddenly, Arthur noticed a man running at them, sword drawn. Realizing that he wouldn’t be fast enough to run away with Merlin over his shoulder, he gently set the wounded man down, drawing his sword. 

He ran at the bandit, determined to keep the fight away from Merlin, and blocked when the man swung his sword at him. They parried a few times before Arthur sung his fist into the man’s face, knocking him to the ground. He turned around quickly when he heard footsteps running up behind him, blocking as another mercenary thrust his sword forward, clearly having originally intended to run Arthur through when his back was turned. 

He kicked the man over before returning his attention to the one he had knocked over. He had stood again, and Arthur was forced to fight the both of them, blocking their swords with his own before finally running the both of them through the chest. 

Just as he dropped the second dead bandit from his sword, he heard yelling and the roar of footsteps. He turned and saw that several other mercenaries were running over the rocks, swords drawn. To his relief, he saw that they were all ignoring Merlin, intent on killing the king. Steeling himself, Arthur adopted his fighting stance and set his jaw in a determined scowl.

CRASH

Arthur jerked his head up, startled at the sudden noise. A loud rumbling followed as rocks began to fall right in between Arthur and the mercenaries.

Between Arthur and his soulmate.

“ MERLIN! ”

Chapter Text

Arthur stood there, arm outstretched, completely frozen. It felt like hours that he stood there, when really, it was only seconds. 

No, no no no no no no no…

He had just found his soulmate, he couldn’t afford to lose him now. 

He ran out of the fissure and over, hoping to find where they had been. After a few minutes of running around, he saw the group of bandits walking away, dragging Merlin with them. The man looked pale, and Arthur knew that if his wound was not treated and soon, he likely didn’t have much time left. 

He was just about to charge at them (a stupid move he knew Merlin would disapprove of) when he saw that someone else was joining them. He hid instead, wondering if this was their leader. The figure stepped closer, and Arthur saw who it was clearly.

Agravaine.

A small smile appeared on his face. His uncle would recognize his servant and free him. He knew how Arthur cared for him. He was about to reveal himself when he noticed the way the bandits seemed relaxed. Curious, he watched as his uncle’s face turned into a grimace, and watched as he beckoned the men onward.

Confused, he followed them. Were these different bandits than had been on the other side of the rockslide? Had Agravaine somehow heard about the attack and hired people to find them?

No, that one had definitely been in the crevice. He had been at the front of the line before the boulders had fallen. Dread settled in his stomach, and he wanted to reveal himself and demand an explanation, but even he knew it would likely not end well with their numbers.

They walked a short distance before going up a small hill. Arthur went around the side a little ways so that he could continue to follow them and not be seen.

“We lost how many men?” rang out over the hill, soft and yet somehow powerful. Arthur’s blood ran cold as he peeked from over a ridge in the hill. A short distance away, facing his right, was Morgana.

“And you bring me how many?” she spat as she turned towards Agravaine. The mercenaries that had been dragging an unconscious Merlin laid him on the ground at her feet. “Or should I say, how many servants?” As she spoke, she kicked Merlin hard enough to turn him unto his back. Arthur saw red.

“Arthur was within our grasp,” Agravaine said. Betrayal rose in Arthur, deep in his belly, and with it, anger. He had trusted this man, and the whole time, he had been working for Morgana.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” his half sister shot back, venom in her voice. 

“The rockfall was hardly our fault,” Agravaine said. There was a brief pause. “I must show my presence in Camelot. The old physician already suspects me.” 

Gaius had suspected Agravaine? Why had Arthur not been made aware of this?

“Gaius is shrewd. You should take care. After all,” Morgana sneered, “if your true nature is revealed, I really don’t know what use I’ll have for you.” 

“Morgana-” Agravaine started, but she turned away from him, and Arthur could see that her face brooked no argument. There was a pause. Then, “I’ll dispatch this servant.” 

Arthur almost jumped to reveal himself as Agravaine drew his sword, but stopped when he heard Morgana.

“You will do no such thing,” she said, voice calm. She walked sideways to look at Merlin, her back now turned on Arthur. “Arthur is strangely fond of the boy.” She paused. “He could prove useful.” She paused again before turning and walking away. “Very useful indeed.”

 He saw Agravaine sheath his sword as the two men that had been dragging Merlin earlier picked him up again, following the witch. 

Arthur’s blood ran cold. What was Morgana intending to do with his soulmate?

Chapter Text

Arthur followed Morgana and the bandits carrying Merlin to a small hovel, hidden deep in the woods. He saw the two bandits follow her in, then leave a few minutes later. As quietly as he could, he snuck over to a window that happened to be open and peeked inside.

Merlin was still unconscious, now with his hands bound together and tied to a rope above his head. He watched as Morgana grabbed a bucket from nearby before throwing it.

SPLASH

Merlin sputtered at the rude wake up, struggling a bit as he realized that his hands were bound. He coughed as Morgana set the bucket back down and turned to him. 

“Good morning,” Morgana said in a sickly sweet voice. Merlin stared at her.

“Is it?”

“Oh, don’t be like that. We have a lot of catching up to do. After all, I haven’t seen you since you condemned my sister to a slow and painful death, thwarted my plans to take over Camelot, and forced me to live in a hovel.”

Morgana’s words sent Arthur reeling. Was that true? How had Merlin been able to do all that? How much had he been hiding from Arthur?

“Couldn’t do me a favor, could you? Let Arthur know. He sees me as an underachiever, but I’m quite proud of those accomplishments,” Merlin groaned. 

Arthur’s heart felt heavy. He knew he made fun of Merlin quite a bit, but they were all in jest. He thought Merlin knew that he cared for his company more than he cared for his work. And, Arthur mused, it’s no wonder Merlin was terrible at his job, he was too busy thwarting his evil half sister. 

“I can die happy,” Merlin added, leaning closer to Morgana, voice deep.

NO , Arthur thought, you are not allowed to die today!

“Oh, you’re not going to die,” Morgana said. Arthur felt a sense of dread, moving to the door, cracking it open just as she said quietly, “Oh no, I’m not going to make it that easy.”

Fury overtook him at the thought of anything more happening to Merlin. He threw the door open the rest of the way, drawing his sword as he did so. He saw Morgana jump at the sudden sound, whirling around to look for the source. A look of shock crossed her face, before turning into a triumphant smirk.

Arthur pointed his sword at her. He chanced a glance at Merlin and couldn’t read the look on his face.  He turned his eyes back to the witch, who was now laughing.

“Oh, isn’t this sweet?” She stepped away from Merlin, who began to pull against his restraints. “Crashing in like a knight in shining armor. I should thank you.” Arthur began to back up as she stepped closer, the dangerous look in her eyes contrasting with the fake sweetness in her voice. “Showing up here, alone might I add, is much easier than me having to infiltrate Camelot so I can kill you, or enchanting Merlin to do it for me.” She turned and gave the struggling man a grin as what she said sunk in. 

“You’ll never have power,” Arthur spat, knowing that those words would divert her attention from Merlin. Sure enough, she turned back to him, the smile gone, replaced by a look of rage.

“We’ll just have to see about that,” she said, her voice low and dangerous. Arthur finally charged at her, swinging his sword to strike her through the chest. She raised her hands quickly and Arthur found himself flying back. The sword clattered to the floor.

Arthur was pressed against the wall, held in place by the spell. She moved toward him, chanting in a deep voice.

“NO!” 

Morgana flew forward, crashing into a cabinet hard. It fell on top of her and she lay still. Arthur looked over at Merlin, shocked at the sound that had torn from the man’s throat.

Even more shocking was the golden glow in his eyes, disappearing quickly but clearly there.

Both of the men stood still, staring at each other. Neither seemed to breathe, Arthur’s face unreadable, Merlin’s filled with guilt.

Merlin was a sorcerer. He had just done magic. He likely had done magic before, he had been lying to Arthur for years…

A stir interrupted them. Morgana was alive still, clearly unconscious. The movement snapped Arthur out of his trance. He moved towards Merlin quickly, the spell binding him to the wall now gone. He drew his dagger from his belt as he marched towards the other man, jaw set. 

He saw a fleeting look of fear on Merlin’s face, before the brunette looked down at the ground, body slacking. Arthur froze for a fraction of a second, heart dropping as he realized what was happening.

Merlin thought Arthur was going to kill him.

The thought sent Arthur reeling. If he hadn't been afraid of Morgana regaining consciousness before he got Merlin cut down, he would pull him into his arms and reassure him, hold him, promise that no harm was ever going to come to him.

However, they were pressed for time as it was, so instead he simply walked forward and used the dagger to cut Merlin down, catching him as he fell. He clearly hadn’t been expecting that based on the soft cry of surprise that left his throat, followed closely by a groan of pain. Arthur threw him over his shoulder again and swiftly left the hut, trying to put as much distance between Morgana and them.

Chapter Text

After about half an hour of walking, Arthur heard running water. His throat had gone dry a while ago, and he realized with a pang that Merlin’s wound hadn’t been cleaned yet. He followed the sound until they reached a stream, and he gently put Merlin down.

Merlin looked at him, a little unfocused, paler than he should have been. Arthur bent over the water and drank to his fill, before cupping his hands and catching water in them. Carefully, he brought his cupped hands to Merlin’s mouth. Merlin looked at him oddly, and Arthur gave him a glare. Getting the hint, Merlin slurped at the water, and it seemed he needed it more than he let on. Arthur repeated this process a few times before Merlin fell back, laying his head back on the forest floor.

Their dehydration taken care of, Arthur tore off a thick strip of his tunic and dipped it in the water. He walked up to Merlin, pulling the neckerchief up again before dabbing the wound with the fabric. Merlin’s eyes were closed now, though he was clearly awake based on the hiss of pain when Arthur cleaned the wound.

“What are you doing?” Merlin breathed.

“Haven’t you ever seen Gaius clean a wound before?” Arthur asked. He swore he could see Merlin roll his eyes under his eyelids.

“I know what you’re doing, what I don’t know is why.” Arthur gripped the fabric in his hands for a moment.

“Because I told you, we need to talk, and you are not allowed to die before that happens,” Arthur said, repeating himself from earlier. There was a pause. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He whispered. 

“How could I?” came Merlin’s broken reply. Arthur looked up and saw a ghost of a tear roll down his cheek.

“How long have you known?” Arthur asked, still sponging at the wound. It seemed pretty clean at this point, but his hands needed to do something.

“Known or suspected?” Merlin asked. “Because I wondered when I first met you. I knew when I saw your mark.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Arthur repeated. Merlin opened his eyes to look at Arthur. 

“I thought… I thought…” Merlin took a deep breath, “I thought you knew.”

Confusion swept through Arthur. “How would I have known?” he asked.

Merlin raised his eyebrows slightly. “Do you know what your soulmark is?” he asked. Arthur furrowed his brows.

“A falcon,” he said, suddenly not sounding sure. Merlin let out a breathy chuckle and laid his head back on the ground.

“It’s a merlin,” he said. 

Comprehension dawned on Arthur. Of course Merlin had known, he would have been able to identify a mark in the shape of his namesake. Suddenly, his words from the first time Merlin had seen it came crashing back. 

And last I checked, it doesn’t affect you. Your focus should be on your duties and your duties alone.

Arthur gave a quick, sharp exhale as the realization hit him. He could have had his soulmate long ago, but his own sharp tongue had prevented it.

“I’m sorry,” Arthur whispered. Merlin glanced at him, not bothering to raise his head again. 

“After that first encounter, I realized it wouldn’t have worked anyways. You were a prince, I was a servant. You would be expected to marry for political gain. I have magic.” The last sentence was quiet, Arthur almost couldn’t hear it. His heart was breaking with every word. 

“How long?” Arthur asked again. Merlin raised his head and looked at him confused. “How long have you been practicing magic?”

Merlin was quiet for a moment. “I was born with it.”

Arthur cocked his head to the side. “Born with it?” he asked. He had never heard of such a thing. Merlin nodded.

“Mum says I was moving things with my mind before I could walk.” Merlin paused. “If you ask the druids, apparently I’m the most powerful sorcerer to ever exist.” There was a moment of silence.

“Good,” Arthur said. Merlin looked at him, shock written all over his face.

“Good?” he asked incredulously. 

“Good,” Arthur said again, voice stronger. “If my soulmate is to be a sorcerer, then I think it makes sense that he must be the most powerful of all.”

Merlin seemed to relax, laying his head back down, before tensing a bit. “So, you’re okay with this?”

“With you having magic?”

“With me being your soulmate,” he whispered. Arthur softened, and he took away the cloth that had, at that point, just been laying on Merlin’s chest. He slowly leaned his head down to Merlin, inches away from his face.

“Merlin, I’m over the moon about it,” he breathed into his lips. And with that, he finally closed the small distance separating them.

Arthur had imagined kissing Merlin before. He had imagined what it might feel like to mold his lips to Merlin’s, how wonderful it would feel.

None of his daydreams even came close to how right it felt to kiss Merlin. It was bright and world-ending, yet at the same time felt as though he was coming home. As he moved his mouth against Merlin’s, he felt the mark on his shoulder heat pleasantly, and he moved his hand that had been holding the makeshift rag, dropping the fabric in favor of running his hand over the expanse of skin under Merlin’s neckerchief that showed the Camelot red lion that he knew would also be warming up.

When they finally broke apart for air, Arthur used that hand to untie the neckerchief, ridding Merlin of the accursed fabric. He understood why Merlin had insisted on wearing them all the time, but Arthur would be damned if he let that continue. He would enstate a new law prohibiting it if he had to. 

He stared at the lion, pride swelling in his chest. He looked at it for a moment before lowering his head down, placing his lips over it. It wasn’t a small mark, so he had to move, letting his tongue dart out a few times, enjoying the gasps that left Merlin whenever he did so. 

When he finally lifted his head from his ministrations, he looked at Merlin. His cheeks and ears were dusted pink, and when he opened his eyes and met Arthur’s, he smiled. 

Arthur had never seen anything more beautiful. 

He looked down at the mark again, when he noticed something. He moved Merlin’s tunic down a bit to ensure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. Sure enough, he was right. Merlin’s wound was gone. 

He raised his eyebrows at Merlin, who looked at him confused. His eyes followed where Arthur’s gaze had been and noticed that the wound was gone. He frowned.

“Huh. Never been able to that before,” he muttered. Arthur’s eyebrows raised even higher.

“Never?” he asked. Merlin shook his head.

“Nope. I’ve been able to heal others, but never myself,” he explained. Arthur chuckled.

“Somehow, that makes sense,” Arthur said. He didn’t explain, even at Merlin’s questioning glance. Instead, he changed the subject. “You know what?”

“No, what?”

“For a long time, I thought that the golden color of my mark meant that my soulmate would be rich or royalty. Instead, it’s the color of magic,” Arthur said. Merlin looked down, a blush creeping up. Arthur hooked a finger under his chin, gently pushing it up until their eyes met. “Show me.” 

Merlin hesitated, clearly a bit self conscious. At Arthur’s encouraging nod, he sat up and looked over Arthur’s shoulder, holding his hand out in the direction of the stream. Muttering in the Old Language, Arthur saw his eyes become gold, and even though he knew it was the exact color of his mark, he thought it was the most gorgeous color he had ever seen. 

He turned his head to see what Merlin was doing, watching as a bit of water rose up, shaping into two knights on horses. Jousting lances formed in their hands as they faced each other. They ran at each other, and when they clashed together, the water became a large orb hovering over the water. It held there for a moment before crashing back down into the water.

Arthur quickly turned back, seeing the molten gold fading. Merlin’s eyes met his again, and he gave a small, crooked smile. Arthur felt his heart melt at that, rushing forward and crushing his lips to Merlin’s.

Yes , he thought as he moved his mouth with Merlin’s, this is right.

Chapter Text

Arthur awoke slowly, blinking as a sliver of sunlight peeked through the curtains. Merlin must not have completely closed the curtains all the way. As though he knew Arthur was thinking about him, Merlin stirred a little from his spot on Arthur’s chest.

It was rare that Arthur awoke before Merlin, and Arthur knew to appreciate it while it lasted. As soon as his husband woke up, he would be bustling about, ready to get the day started.

Husband. Even though it had been six years since they married and seven since he discovered they were soulmates, he would never be able to get over the fact that Merlin’s was his, that he was Merlin’s .

He lowered his gaze to the man on top of him, tightening his arms ever so slightly around Merlin’s back and waist. Merlin seemed to notice, and unconsciously nuzzled closer in his sleep, causing Arthur to melt.

He lifted his hand from where it had previously been resting on Merlin’s back to run it gently across his jaw, feeling the beard that had grown in. At first, Arthur had been opposed when Merlin began growing his hair out a bit and letting his facial hair grow in, but after a while, he had to admit it made the man even more handsome, the hair covering his ears a bit so they didn’t stick out as much and the facial hair helping Merlin appear older, more regal.

He thought back to the sight he had encountered last night. He had walked into his chambers after being cornered by a lord with questions about his newest proposal. He had endured a twenty-five minute conversation with this man, wanting nothing more than to retire to his chambers and go to bed. When he finally had managed to escape, grumpy and tired, he had opened the door harshly, before pausing.

Merlin had been sitting at his desk, which had been placed across from Arthur’s, scratching at a piece of parchment with a large white quill. He was still dressed as he had been for the council meeting, wearing his silver circlet on his head and the dark blue robes with silver threading that both of them were particularly fond of. Perched on his nose had been his reading glasses, ones he seldom wore, much to Arthur’s dismay. The light from the hearth danced across his face and reflected in his lenses. 

As he stared, Arthur felt calmer, and when Merlin looked up from the parchment he was bent over and smiled at him, Arthur felt every frustration that had assaulted him that day disappear, melting like snow on the first day of spring. He trudged over to Merlin, who had put his quill down and stood up, before throwing him into his consort’s arms. After standing there for a moment, simply allowing himself to be wrapped up in his soulmate, he pulled back and captured Merlin’s lips in his. 

The rest of the memories from that night bled together, though the most distinct one that Arthur remembered  was Merlin underneath him, wearing nothing but his circlet and glasses, soulmark prominent on his chest. That was an image that Arthur knew he would never forget, because he certainly never wanted to. 

Movement on top of him pulled him back into the present, and he saw that Merlin was waking up. He saw him raise his head and blink blearily at Arthur before giving him a small smile.

“Good morning,” he croaked. Arthur grinned. Sleepy Merlin was one of his favorite Merlins, and he knew he never got much time to see his husband like this. In a few minutes, Merlin would be wide awake and charging through his room to prepare for the day, so Arthur had to take advantage now.

“Good morning,” he murmured back, lowering his head enough he could kiss his consort. A few moments passed of the two of them sleepily kissing each other, unhurried and sweet. Then as images of the previous night filled his head and  Arthur realized they were still both very naked from the night before, he began to deepen it, flipping the two so he lay on top of Merlin. He felt Merlin chuckle softly.

“Eager, are we?” he muttered against Arthur’s lips.

“For you? Always,” Arthur said, moving down to Merlin’s jaw, peppering kisses as he went down. He continued downwards, eventually finding the spot on Merlin’s neck that he had marked the night before.

“Mmm, we’re going to be late for the meeting,” Merlin managed to get out between gasps.

“I’m the king and you’re my Consort and Court Sorcerer, we are allowed to be late,” Arthur retaliated, continuing to nip and lick the red spot.

“We were late yest- ahh- yesterday, we shouldn’t be late again,” Merlin reasoned breathily. Arthur huffed.

“I don’t care. Let them wait. The day starts when I say it does. And I say it doesn’t start until I’ve watched you come completely undone at my hands,” Arthur growled. 

A huff followed his words, this time from Merlin. Arthur looked up at him, and Merlin met his eyes. For a moment, the two seemed at an impasse, before Merlin let out a breathy chuckle and cupped Arthur’s face. 

“All right then,” Merlin said. Satisfied, Arthur crashed his lips into Merlin’s as his hands wandered. 

“I love you,” he whispered against his lips. Another chuckle.

“I love you too, clotpole.”