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Arthur had felt Merlin’s sadness like it was a cloak laying heavily on his shoulders, bringing him down, enveloping him completely. Arthur couldn’t imagine what it was that Merlin was sad about, the idiot was always the one with the brightest smile. He had to guess it was because of the attack on Camelot, as it had made Arthur a little more emotional, too. He had to focus on the upcoming battle, because he couldn’t afford to be too distracted.
“Well, look on the bright side, Merlin. Chances are you’re not going to have to clean this again.”
He didn’t hear Merlin’s usual huff of laughter, or the snort at his ridiculous and quite macabre comment that Arthur had expected to follow.
“You must be careful today. Do not force the battle.”
Arthur couldn’t have Merlin be like this right now. He needed his bright and fun friend to wave him off to his untimely death.
“Yes, sire,” he said, in an attempt to lighten the mood. It didn’t work. If anything, it only made the air heavier around them.
“I’m serious.”
“I can hear that.”
Merlin paused for a few moments before he spoke. Arthur could hear that there was something in his voice, he just wasn’t able to identify it.
“Let matters take their course,” Merlin said, an edge of desperation to his voice. Arthur had a feeling he knew what Merlin was thinking of now.
“Merlin, if I die, please…” But he didn’t know how to finish that sentence.
“What?” Merlin asked him, finally finishing to put on Arthur’s armor.
What was Arthur supposed to say in order to finish that sentence? That he didn’t want to die? That if he did, he hoped Merlin would be alright, would be happy again? That he couldn’t shake the feeling that Merlin wouldn’t quite overcome his death?
That he had seen how the death of this stranger had affected him so badly, and couldn’t bear to think of what Merlin would feel if Arthur were to die?
“The dragonlord today…” Merlin averted his eyes, and he only ever did that when he wanted to hide feelings from Arthur, something the brunet must know was difficult to do - Arthur knew Merlin rather well. “I saw you.”
Arthur put his hand on Merlin’s shoulder. He hoped it would comfort Merlin, in a way. He didn’t want to see his friend hurt like this.
“One thing I tell all my young knights: no man is worth your tears.”
“Yeah,” Merlin whispered, almost inaudibly. Arthur could see his eyes fill with tears, and felt his heart break. Merlin was too kind, too affectionate. Arthur couldn’t stand to think that he would have his heart broken many times from today, whether by Arthur’s death, or by something else hurting him.
Even if there was a part of him that doubted if Merlin would actually shed any tears upon his death. Certainly not after the words he had just uttered.
Merlin tried to smile away his tears, like he so often did when some of his deeply hidden feelings were threatening to burst through to the surface. Arthur wanted nothing more than to pull Merlin into a tight hug, and find out why he was feeling this way. It couldn’t possibly be because Balinor had died, right? He was not the best person they had met, not in the slightest.
“Arthur-” Merlin breathed, and then lost the battle against his tears fully. Arthur gave up all pretenses and wrapped his arms tightly around Merlin, comforting him in the only way he knew how. They stood there for a while, Merlin crying in his arms, and Arthur’s heart was breaking even further with every minute that passed, every tiny sob that made Merlin’s body rock against his.
“Who was he, Merlin?” Arthur asked, while Merlin was still crying, but the sobbing had subsided a little. “I’ve never seen you like this. I know he was important, but I’m sure we can defeat this dragon without his help.”
Merlin pulled away from where he had been resting his head against Arthur’s shoulder and looked at him, eyes red, cheeks damp. Arthur had to fight the instinct to brush the tear tracks off his face.
“He… he was my father.” Merlin paused, and all at once, Arthur felt the pieces suddenly fitting together. Merlin rubbed at his own face. “I didn’t know at first, either, it was only after Gaius told me that I knew. I… I was disappointed at first, he was such a… but he came around, eventually. I almost… envisioned what it would be like, to have a father. I wanted to bring him to Ealdor, reunite him with my mother, but… I realized, there’s not a lot of space in my life for good things.”
Arthur chose to ignore that last comment for the moment, because his heart was threatening to overtake his head. He could be good for Merlin, they could be good,
together
, but this wasn’t the moment for that kind of talk, if there would ever be a good moment for that.
“Why didn’t you tell me before?”
Merlin shrugged. “Because he was a dragonlord. I knew you would put two and two together.”
Arthur frowned at him, took a step back. Gave himself a few moments to try and decipher what it was that Merlin was trying to tell him - when things clicked further.
“You’re a sorcerer?”
Merlin nodded, tears in his eyes once more, hands shaking by his sides.
“I didn’t want to tell you, that Balinor was my father, because… because you would realize that I’m a sorcerer, too, and I didn’t want to put you in the position to choose between me or the kingdom.”
“You know what I would have chosen.”
Merlin looked at him silently, then nodded rather sadly. “Yes. But I couldn’t allow you to do that.”
They stared at each other for a long time, neither averting their eyes this time, perhaps trying to say words that they couldn’t say but were heartfelt either way, and lived inside their hearts daily.
“I’m so sorry, Merlin,” Arthur whispered, putting a hand on Merlin’s upper arm. He wanted to hug him again, but now that he wasn’t crying anymore, it felt like that invisible barrier that they both pretended existed had been pulled back up again. “He was… he seemed…”
“He was flawed, he’s been hurt, by…” Merlin didn’t say it, but Arthur knew what was implied. “But… I could see what my mother saw in him. He seemed nice and kind, and… he died, trying to protect me, and… I always had this idea of a father in my head, and I hate to say it… I’m glad he wasn’t like that. He wasn’t perfect, but… he was my father. And I’m glad I got to meet him, although… I wish our time together could have been longer.”
He rubbed at his eyes once more and stepped towards the table, lifting Arthur’s sword and handing it to him. Arthur took it without protest, looking at the blade first before seeing how Merlin picked up a sword of his own.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m coming with you.”
Arthur ignored how the idea of Merlin coming with him on a trip that was inevitably going to end in many fatalities quite frankly terrified him, and shook his head.
“Merlin…”
“Arthur,” Merlin said, holding his sword tightly with two hands, and Arthur fleetingly thought that he should really teach his servant how to use a sword rather than just polishing it. “Being a dragonlord is passed down from father to son. My father got it from his father, and his father before him.”
Merlin squared his shoulders and walked to the door, resolutely, as if their moment from before had been forgotten, as if Merlin hadn’t bawled his eyes out in Arthur’s arms.
Arthur followed him, mostly hesitant, not knowing what Merlin was planning on doing. It was only a fraction of a second before Merlin said it that Arthur realized where Merlin’s thoughts were.
“I’m the last dragonlord, Arthur. I can stop the dragon.”
And Arthur was not quick enough to stop his heart from fluttering stupidly as he realized just how powerful Merlin was, and how Merlin, of all people, would be the one to save Camelot.
~...~
After Merlin had helped Arthur into his bed, as if he hadn’t just been the hero of the day and had given all the credit to Arthur, for obvious reasons, Arthur found it was impossible to shut off his thoughts, as they often were these days. He kept replaying his acquaintance with Balinor in his head, wondering how he hadn’t caught on to the resemblance between him and Merlin, and how Merlin’s tears over his death had inspired some confused thoughts inside of him.
He hadn’t wanted his thoughts to stray for too long, because things never ended well when he did.
He remembered one particular moment, when Merlin had been gathering some more firewood shortly before they all went to sleep, and Arthur and Balinor had been left alone. Arthur hadn’t known that he was Merlin’s father yet, but he knew the man had come from, or had lived in, Ealdor at some point, so there was certainly a connection there.
He had chalked their connection up to the little village. He hadn’t known any better.
“You and Merlin,” Balinor had said at one point, poking at what little remained of the fire. “What’s the deal?”
“The deal?”
“You seem awfully close for a master and his servant.”
Arthur hadn’t known what to respond to that, because he knew it was true and he once again tried his very best to keep his mind from touching upon that subject for too long.
“We’re… just friends.”
Balinor had raised an eyebrow at him, but hadn’t bothered him about it further - at least, for a minute or two.
“He seems like a good kid,” Balinor had continued, looking in the direction where Merlin had left only ten minutes ago. Arthur had nodded and stared at the fire.
“He is.”
“Seems like he would do anything to keep his home safe.”
Arthur had nodded again. Merlin had proven time and time again that he was pretty selfless in his efforts to keep the people he cared about safe.
“He’s… he’s a good man.”
Balinor had nodded his agreement. “Make sure he stays that way. Keep him true to his heart.”
It was the closest this stranger could come to telling him to keep Merlin safe - him , the man who was obviously and inexplicably in love with his manservant. Balinor had sworn to his son not to tell Arthur what they were, because Merlin’s life could possibly be in danger in that case, and in hindsight, Arthur respected Balinor greatly for doing this.
He would always try and keep Merlin safe, and happy, and loved. Even if they were just friends .
Arthur visited the physician’s chambers that night, while most of the castle’s inhabitants were already fast asleep, and he would be lying if he said that he was surprised to see Merlin sitting in the middle of the room, hands cupping a mug, eyes focusing on a spot in front of him, deep in thought.
Gaius was asleep in his bed, snoring softly.
It wasn’t until Arthur sat down in front of Merlin that the brunet noticed that he had company in general. He seemed rather surprised to find that his company was Arthur. He immediately straightened his back and his clothes.
“Sire? Is everything alright?”
“I wanted to check up on you,” Arthur said quietly, not wanting to wake up Gaius. He wanted to have this moment alone with Merlin, just one little moment. “How are you?”
Merlin sighed and hunched over his shoulders a little again, looking down at his mug.
“I can’t sleep.”
“Me neither.”
Neither said anything for a while, but the moment wasn’t uncomfortable at all. If anything, Arthur appreciated being in Merlin’s company, because his presence always calmed him down a little.
“Why didn’t you take the credit?” Arthur asked, but he knew the answer because it was a stupid question. Merlin just raised an eyebrow and caused Arthur to smile a little. “Right.”
Merlin lowered his hands into his lap and when he lifted them, he was holding a little wooden dragon, his fingers wrapped around the edges carefully, almost tenderly, as if he didn’t want to break it, despite its appearance showing no signs of being fragile at all.
“I wish I could have known him a little more. Asked his favorite color, or… what his dreams were, when he was with my mother. But, I suppose, in the end… it was meant to be this way. He couldn’t have returned to Camelot, your father would have probably executed him after saving the kingdom, and we would be none the wiser. And now… I got his powers, and I got to save everybody, and… I felt him there with me, you know. He was speaking to me, in my head. I still feel him, in my heart. He has always been there, in a way. I didn’t realize it yet. I got my powers from him, and I always guessed it to be true, because my mother doesn’t have magic, but… it’s that part of him that I carry inside of me. My magic, I got it from him. That way… it’s like he never really left at all.”
“I’m still sorry, Merlin, that he died.”
Merlin shrugged. “Well, there’s no helping that, anyway.” He looked over his shoulder at Gaius, still peacefully asleep. “I suppose… I’m not completely without a father.”
When Merlin looked back at Arthur, there were tears in the corners of his eyes, and Arthur stood and walked around the table, taking his stool with him and placing it beside Merlin’s. He sat down again, their arms touching, and put one hand on Merlin’s, which were still holding onto the little wooden figurine. His thumb rubbed the top of Merlin’s hand.
“I have to admit, I thought you would sell me out to Uther when you realized I was a sorcerer,” Merlin whispered with a little quiet chuckle, looking down at their hands. “Is that why you’re here?”
Arthur shook his head and looked to his side.
“No, Merlin. I meant what I said. I wanted to make sure that you were alright. I could never hurt you, Merlin. You’re my best friend, and I will always do what’s necessary to keep you safe and cared for. I know I don’t often show it, but I think in your heart you know it to be true. I wished too, for your sake, that you could have known Balinor a little longer. The gods know I would have given anything that was mine to give to see a little more of my mother, too. But, well, that can’t be helped, either. Still, I’m happy that you got to meet him, even if it didn’t last. He was a good man, Merlin. I would have been proud with a father like him.”
Merlin looked at the little dragon for a long time, in silence, while Arthur kept his hand where it was, stroking Merlin’s. Eventually, Merlin looked up, and a tear slipped onto his cheek. He took in a deep breath and brushed it away himself.
“I wish you could have known him, as my father. I wish he could have known, that… that I love you.” The words pushed all the air out of Arthur’s lungs but Merlin was still going. “I wish I could have known what he would have thought of it all. If he would have approved of you. I guess I just really want his blessing, or whatever.” Merlin paused, then his eyes grew wide, and he almost dropped the dragon. “Did I say that out loud? I didn’t mean to! Oh no, I really need to sleep-”
“I’m glad you did,” Arthur whispered, and turned Merlin’s face towards him and kissed him gently, tenderly, feeling how the brunet stiffened under his lips before he melted, and Arthur’s heart practically jumped out of his chest. When they parted, long before Arthur was well and truly satisfied, he smiled faintly at the sight of Merlin’s eyes still closed in bliss.
“I think he was trying in his own way to tell me that he approved,” Arthur whispered, lowering the hand that was on Merlin’s cheek to his neck and then his chest. “He told me that he wanted me to make sure that you stayed the good man that you are.”
Merlin blushed and averted his eyes and Arthur elected to just look at him, sitting so close to him, feeling his body heat seep into his very soul, even if only their arms were touching. He finally realized the true extent of his feelings for Merlin, and while he had thought of the words before, he had always done it with a dose of frustration and hatred - he didn’t want it to be like this, he didn’t want to be in love with his best friend. He didn’t want things to change between them.
But he was in love with his best friend. And things had already changed between them. He had to admit, things were going in a different direction than he had first anticipated, but he wasn’t complaining all that much.
“Can you stay here a little longer?” Merlin asked, still not seemingly daring to look him in the eye. It was quite alright. Now Arthur could admire him just like this, mostly without Merlin knowing. “I don’t like to be alone right now.”
Neither did Arthur. “I will stay as long as you want me to.”
They sat there in the middle of the room for ages, even if it only felt like mere minutes to Arthur, looking at the wooden dragon and brushing each other’s hands in silence. When they both got too tired, Merlin entwined their hands and led the way to his room, where they slipped into Merlin’s bed and each other’s arms, cozy underneath the blanket.
Despite the fact that it was rather chilly in the room, the bed was far from comfortable, and they were both still wearing their clothes - they were both out like a light.
~...~
When Gaius slowly opened the door to Merlin’s room in the morning, ready to comfort him in whatever way he could after the loss of his father the day before, he couldn’t have expected to be greeted by the sight of Merlin and the crown prince in the tiny bed, arms and legs entwined and foreheads resting against each other.
He thought of Balinor and Hunith, and how proud they would be of their son, despite the many trials and tribulations that he was bound to face in his future. Balinor could be a difficult man, but Gaius was certain that he would be happy for Merlin, and would want nothing but the best for him.
He awoke the couple a little later, gently, not wanting them to be too startled and shocked. They were too tired, still mostly asleep, when he guided them to the table and served them breakfast. They kept smiling at each other, as if Gaius wouldn’t notice, but he had been young once, too, and he wanted both of them to be happy.
He helped Arthur sneak out later that morning, helping to cover up the fact that he hadn’t been at practice and hadn’t been in his chambers, either. Most people were willing to accept whatever Arthur gave as an excuse. Merlin, of course, followed Arthur not too longer after, to start his duties of the day.
Gaius spotted a little figurine standing on the little table beside Merlin’s bed when he was tidying up, and smiled to himself.
He hoped Balinor would be protecting Merlin from wherever he was right now - in the meantime, Gaius was more than happy to take over that responsibility.