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Merlin’s mind was foggy, he couldn’t think straight, but he knew he had to fight to keep awake and try his very best to keep Arthur and the king save - well, Arthur, at the very least. It was hard, however, when unconsciousness was pulling at all of his insides. He already only vaguely remembered smacking Arthur across the cheek.
Arthur was looking at him intently for a few seconds. Merlin knew he really didn’t want Arthur to go out there and face the faceless knights all by himself, but once Arthur set his mind to something, there was no way in hell that you could ever convince him to change his mind.
“If I need a servant in the next life…”
“Don’t ask me.” Although Merlin knew very well that he quite enjoyed being Arthur’s servant, despite the prat being so… prattish , most of the time.
Arthur smiled at him, eyes a little droopy with the sleep that he was trying to fight, face wet to aid him in that struggle, and Merlin felt his heart flutter ridiculously in his chest. This was most certainly not the time, Merlin, stop being such a girl and get back to the task at hand, which was to save Camelot from yet more peril. But when Arthur didn’t move to get out of the throne room, and instead remained leaning against the door staring at Merlin, the young sorcerer paused himself, and for a moment or two allowed his feelings to take hold of his heart.
“If I die, Merlin-”
“You won’t, Arthur.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do, because I know you, and you’re a great warrior.”
Arthur was silent. Merlin almost forgot why they were there in the first place, and nearly got completely lost in the deep blue of Arthur’s eyes.
“I love you, Merlin,” Arthur whispered, never once taking his eyes off Merlin’s. All the air seemed to be knocked out of Merlin’s chest at those words, and he was at a complete loss for words. “I wanted you to know that, in case I die.”
“Arthur…”
“Protect my father, alright? I will come back.”
Merlin nodded numbly, watching as Arthur braced himself, readied his sword, and opened the door - Merlin quickly put the bar back and then leaned against it, taking in deep, unsteady breaths. When his eyes focused again, he saw Morgana staring at him, and no doubt trying her own best to register what Arthur had said.
“Uh… he, uh…” She shook her head, and focused on the situation at hand. “He won’t survive out there.”
“I know.”
“We’ve got to do something.”
Merlin still heard Arthur’s word reverberating in his head, and now that the initial shock had worn off, could already feel what they were doing to him, to his heart, to his brain, how it filled him with warmth and hope and strength.
Strength. And Kilgharrah had told him time and time again that Morgana was dangerous, and that she shouldn’t be allowed to unlock her full potential, but Merlin knew her, knew they were friends. He guessed it would be a massive mistake, and he would probably regret it greatly in the future, but at that moment, he didn’t care anymore.
“Morgana, I have something to tell you.”
She listened to him with shock and surprise, which eventually turned into comprehension and relief.
“You have magic, too?” she asked him, her hands visibly shaking, and he walked up to her, and held her wrists, gently, not wanting to scare her in any way. He nodded.
“I can help you, Morgana. I have a lot to learn myself, but… I’m sure that together, we can manage it. I know there’s still good in you. Perhaps under Uther, we can’t live our true selves, but Arthur will set things right, you know he will. Please, let me help you, Morgana. I know there’s good in you. Magic doesn’t have to be used for evil, it can be used for good, too.” For good measure, he held up his hand, seeing it shake more than feeling it, and used what little focus he had left to conjure up two butterflies, watching how Morgana was surprised and followed them in curiosity more than anything else. “I can show you, there’s good in the world. Just trust me. Do you trust me, Morgana?”
“Merlin, I…”
He rubbed his face, trying against reasonable hope to stay awake. He was running on his last bit of energy here, and he could only hope that he was getting through to her. He knew she was approaching more sinister paths, and he didn’t want her to go down that way.
“What do I do?” she said eventually, reigniting hope within Merlin’s heart. He smiled gently at her and nodded. He knew that there was good in her, he just had to convince her some more.
~...~
The crisis was averted again, and Merlin had spent a considerable time in Morgana’s chambers, just the two of them, talking over what had happened, and the pact they had made. She was upset that she’d had to betray Morgause, but her trust in Merlin was greater.
When he was certain that she was alright and that she would sleep through the night comfortably, he called for Gwen to finish up before making his way to his own master.
Who was shrugging off his armor by himself because Merlin had been otherwise occupied. Merlin hurried to his side and helped him, but when Arthur looked up at him, they both stilled their movements.
That’s when Merlin remembered what had gone down before in the throne room, and realized that he had completely forgotten about it due to his ordeal with Morgana. And he was instantly filled with a bit of shame, and mostly embarrassment, because they had both been under the influence of something, and Arthur had thought he was going to die - surely, his words weren’t true, right?
“What I said before, Merlin…”
“No, I understand. We were both pretty hyped up.”
Arthur nodded, perhaps taken back by Merlin retreating into what they had always been. But he seemed to accept it, at least for now, and went along with it.
Truly, Merlin knew how he felt on the matter, but he was not ready yet to face the true extent of his own feelings, let alone see where this thing could lead, if it ever could lead anywhere.
“Alright. I’m glad we got through this.”
“Oh boy, me too,” Merlin said, glad to change the subject a little, and they quickly delved into this comfortable territory that they both appreciated more than anything. Before they knew it, they were bantering again, like they always did, and Arthur dismissed Merlin with a pillow thrown to his head.
Merlin stood in the doorway, looking at Arthur, and took in a deep breath. Just before he was able to leave, however, Arthur spoke, his voice uncharacteristically soft and gentle.
“Good night, Merlin. Sweet dreams.”
It was probably the first time Arthur had ever said anything like that to Merlin. He wasn’t surprised when sleep was pushed away that night by the butterflies in his stomach.