Chapter Text
Gwen never thought, in a million years, would she be good friends with a prince. A prince! But here she was, sitting in Arthur’s chambers having a casual conversation with him.
She’d taken to having weekly chats with Arthur. After seeing how much pressure he’d been under from Uther constantly bringing in new Princesses for Arthur to possibly marry, she thought it would be nice for him to have somebody to talk to. They spoke as if they were old friends, which Gwen guessed they kind of were.
Of course, Arthur had Merlin to talk to, too. But she thought it would be better for both of them. If either of them wanted someone else to talk to, she’d be there.
And, hopefully, Merlin would stop worrying so much over how Arthur was feeling all of the time. Although Gwen supposed, all his worrying showed that he cared, that he loved him enough.
“I love Camelot, more than I can say.” Gwen sat up straight from her place on Arthur’s bed, folding another newly dried dress, upon hearing Arthur beginning to speak again after a few minutes of silence. Gwen wasn’t entirely sure what Arthur was doing, she assumed he was writing something at his desk.
“When I’m here…sometimes I feel I can hardly breathe; everyone expects so much from me. Being here with you and Merlin, and the knights, too, I feel like I can be myself.”
“I like that. You, being yourself.” Gwen admitted benevolently. She watched as Arthur smiled minutely down at the paper. Arthur was silent for another second longer, writing a few meaningless words on the page before him.
“Sometimes I dream of leaving Camelot.”
“Really?” Gwen questioned with a frown etched upon her face. “Where would you go?”
Gwen watched as Arthur took a second to think, “I don’t know.” He responded, with a solemn expression. “Somewhere where nobody knew who I was. I’d get some land and become a farmer.”
“I can hardly see you toiling away in the field all day,” Gwen said with a chuckle.
“Obviously, I’d take Merlin along with me; he can do all the hard work,” Arthur said with a small grin. Because, obviously.
Gwen took a moment to contemplate what Arthur had said. She looked back up at him and uttered, “You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”
Arthur shrugged. “I don’t know. Yes, it would be nice to get away from it all, however, I can’t just leave my kingdom.” He paused to pick an imaginary piece of grit from his shirt. “Perhaps, once I am King, Merlin and I can travel to Ealdor and visit his mother again?”
“That sounds nice,” Gwen assured, sending her friend a small smile. She stood up from where she was perched on Arthur’s bed. “Well, I should get back to work, then.”
Arthur simply nodded. Gwen sighed, picking up the woven basket full of the freshly folded dresses, and took off towards the door. Before she left completely, she turned her head back to look at him.
Gwen’s gaze softened as she took in his melancholy expression. “Perhaps, it’s time you tell your father about your relationship?”
Gwen only just caught sight of Arthur’s shocked expression before swiftly leaving through the opening
Later that evening, as he waited for his useless manservant to bring him his meal, Arthur considered Gwen suggestion. There were some pros and many cons that came with telling his father about his and Merlin’s relationship.
Pros: they wouldn’t have to hide anymore… yeah, that was pretty much it.
Cons: his father would be furious, Arthur would not be able to produce an heir, all those lovely princesses would be heartbroken, his father would be furious and, yeah, his father was going to kill him- them.
Arthur was so engrossed in his worries that he barely acknowledged Merlin entering his chambers with a large plate of food in his clutches. Arthur always shared his meals with Merlin, as Merlin was not fed nearly enough, and Arthur wanted to get some meat on those bones.
“Arthur?” Merlin said, shutting the door, locking it and coming closer to Arthur. He placed the food gently on the table in front of the prince then went to stand behind him, rubbing small circles into Arthur’s tense shoulders.
“What’s got you so tense? Are you thinking again? You know what I’ve said about that.” Merlin teased.
When he didn’t get a response, he moved around the desk and sat in the chair opposite Arthur. Reaching across the table and grabbing the curled fist that laid there, he repeated, “Arthur?”
Merlin’s free hand went to the prince’s face, raising it to get a better look at him. Tears. Arthur was crying. Arthur was crying. Something was most definitely wrong.
“What’s wrong, cariad? Talk to me.” Merlin swiped away the stray droplets, urging Arthur to talk to him.
When he finally did, his gaze stayed glued to the wooden desk. “I was thinking about you.”
Merlin frowned. “Me? Why has that made you cry?”
“Because I was thinking about what my father would do to you if he found out about us,” Arthur admitted with a sniffle. Merlin raised an eyebrow, “I was speaking with Gwen earlier, and she suggested something about telling him.”
“Arthur, I promise you, Uther can’t do anything to me,” said Merlin, a reassuring smile playing on his lips. “He may be the most powerful man in the kingdom, but he is most certainly not the most powerful sorcerer in the world, is he?”
At once, Arthur began to realise that he shouldn’t be afraid of the possible outcome that could come out of tomorrows confession. Merlin would be there, so would the rest of his friends. But, despite all this, there was still a small itch in the back of his mind that told him not to do it.
Nevertheless, he’d made up his mind.
Arthur raised an inch or two in his seat, leaning forward somewhat, to bring their lips together. Kissing Merlin was something that he would never get tired of doing, as cliché as it sounded. Without breaking apart, they stood up straight and moved around the table to be closer. Arthur placed a hand on Merlin’s neck to steady himself.
After a minute or two, they reluctantly pulled away but didn’t go far. Arthur wrapped his arms around Merlin and buried his face into his neck, squeezing him tightly.
“Let’s go to bed, yeah?” Merlin suggested. When he felt the pressure of Arthur’s nod on his skin, he stepped back. He tugged lightly on Arthur’s hand and lead him toward the bed.
Under the safety and warmth of the covers, Merlin placed a loose fist on Arthur’s chest and intertwined their legs.
“And, Arthur?” Arthur hummed in acknowledgement. “I don’t mind if you tell Uther. I’m prepared to face the consequences, just so long as you’re there with me.”
At that moment, Arthur felt safe.